Saigneux, hope you're happy. Little sisters, don't waste your time reading this garbage, you'll find it boringAF and it'll make you facepalm forever. Other readers- onward!

I've never slept in a bed this soft," Kuvira said, rolling over and folding her arms between her chest and Baatar's. "It's almost sinfully comfortable."

"There are certain perks associated with being the empress of the most powerful nation in the world," he said, his words vibrating through her chest and raising goosebumps on her skin. "Was the prince trying to flirt with you?"

"Were you bothered by it?" she teased.

She stood on his doorstep, her head cocked to the side. "Hello."

"Spirits, I've missed you."

In half a second she was in his arms again, and she marveled at how even five years apart hadn't changed the way she fit against him or how his hands instinctively fell to the small of her back. She tilted her face up to look at him, taking in the pink lines of the faded scar and the traces of premature grey he had inherited from his father. "You look good, Baatar."

"Come inside," he said, his tone practically saying 'I love you.' She was reminded of a different tour, years ago.

"Come inside," he said, tugging her in. "This suite is historical, it was designed by Chief Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe personally. It's typically only reserved by important dignitaries and heads of state-"

"You say that as though we don't fit the description," Kuvira teased, letting him lead her through doorways framed in darkly varnished rosewood and point out furniture constructed in the classical style, the upholstery of woven imported silk with gold threads in the embroidery. "It is beautiful, though. He was almost as brilliant a designer as you."

"And you say you're unbiased," he said, throwing open the doors to the master suite. The bed was ridiculously large, the sheets a deep green and the skylight throwing the room into a lazy mid-afternoon glow. "May I?"

Kuvira rolled her eyes. "Maybe this once.."

He lifted her easily, spinning around before dropping her on the mattress, laughing as her mouth made a tiny 'o' of surprise as she slipped on the coverlet and sank into the down. "Well?"

"It's so soft." She metalbended the plates of his uniform without warning, pulling him atop her. "I'm not used to a bed this soft."

The living area was tidy, his blueprints and straightedges confined to the desk. She idly thumbed through the papers, seeing the sketches for the new expansions he had written about and finding older ones for completed projects she had seen in her ride through Republic City. "You've been productive," she said, leaning down to read a line of unfamiliar girlish writing on a pink bit of stationary. It appeared to be a reminder.

In a second he had snatched it up, stuffing it into a drawer. "Very."

Kuvira's eyes narrowed. "Was that a note from someone?"

He sighed. "You can't expect me to have not made an effort to get over you, Kuvira."

"Why did you call me here if you're dating someone?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "I said I was free and in the area, why did you say you missed me and wanted to try again? We could have gotten tea and just caught up, I would've understood."

"No," he insisted, taking her hands in his. "I've been seeing her for all of three weeks, it's nowhere near serious. Nothing has ever turned serious with anyone, after you. If I had known I'd be seeing you so soon, I would have politely declined her first invitation. It's been four years and eleven months, Kuvira. Was I supposed to wait indefinitely?"

"No," she agreed. "No, I suppose not, I'm sorry."

"I suppose," she muttered, the lights dim and the image of Wu's horrified face flitting pleasantly before her eyes, "we'll have to wait and see what the world leaders do before we make our next move."

"My mother won't reconsider," he said, rolling off her and lying on his side, "so you can tell the troops to prepare for the march on Zaofu."

"Hmm." She ran a finger along the stubble that dotted his jaw, thinking of the impending conflict with Su with distaste. "Is my face scratched up?"

"Not much," he said, squinting. "Maybe your neck, but it's nothing the uniform won't cover, at least."

"You need to shave," she said, stroking his cheek. "It's been what, two days?"

Baatar chuckled, running a hand up the length of her leg. "You're telling me?"

"No one sees my legs," she said, "so a bit of stubble doesn't hurt the aesthetic. But your face? No, darling... we groom."

He laughed again, taking care to kiss her gently. "Of course we do."

His bedroom was nothing like the plush presidential suite, but they wasted little time before they were at each other with the same single-minded intensity as before, hands everywhere and clothing pooling on the floor in a circle at their feet. "Five years in the field, and you're as beautiful as ever," he said, more to himself than to her.

"Nonsense," she said, her hands running over scars both familiar and new to him. "I look terrible. I've lost weight, I've got dark circles from the insomnia, I'm irregular from-"

"I promise you," he said, his hands fumbling at her upper back as his words tickled her neck, "I haven't noticed."

Suddenly she remembered, and everything ground to a screeching halt as she pulled back to look at him, the blood pounding in her ears. "Wait. You're seeing someone, we shouldn't."

Baatar hesitated, two of his fingers already under the band of her bra. "It's not serious."

"What's happened to you?" she whispered, removing his hands and studying him carefully. "Even if it isn't, I doubt she'd be fine with this. You ought to end things with her first... you're being heartless-" She realized with a start that she hadn't bothered to ask the woman's name.

"Then that's your fault, because you never gave it back." And suddenly he was kissing her, crushing her body to his and his mouth hot and desperate against her own. She found herself rationalizing it away, telling herself that it was just to oblige him, that it was the least she could do after trying to end his life. She tried, but she knew that her excuses to herself were just that- hollow excuses.

"Then maybe.." she said between measured breaths, barely registering the sound of his shirt ripping as her hands followed the familiar lines of his back and sides, "...I can...give it back."

The effort it took him to pull away did not escape her. "If you don't want to, we can stop," Baatar said, his hands slipping down from her ribcage to her waist. "You can go, we can have tea later today, we can pretend this never happened."

"No," she said, the panic in her voice startling them both. "No..." she repeated, forcing her voice to be calm, "we're both going to hell for what we've done anyway."

"What are you saying?" he said softly, his thumbs working tiny circles across her bare skin, and she shuddered involuntarily. "You don't care?"

"It's been five years," she said, guiding his hand to the clasp between her shoulder blades. "I've spent five years of my life without you and desperately wanting another chance, and now you're offering me one? I'm past caring. I know it's selfish-"

He stopped her mid-sentence with another kiss, choked, urgent sounds in his throat and his hands tugging her waistband down. "I don't care," he said, his lips to her ear. "I've missed you so much... I never stopped loving you..."

"That's why you're dating other women then, got it," Kuvira said archly, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing her way down his neck. "You've got an odd way of showing it."

"I'm ending it," he said, his tone dazed and his mind clearly elsewhere. "It's completely casual-"

"Keep telling yourself that," Kuvira said, her words ending in a hiss as he found the angle she had always preferred. They slipped back into their old routine with surprising ease, his faltering pace and her natural discomfort small imperfections in an otherwise idyllic reunion. Kuvira had forgotten how much she loved the sound of her name escaping through his gritted teeth, or the touch of his palms, now newly-callused, against her skin. She had forgotten the feel of his weight suspended over her, or the scrape of his stubble across her jaw. Afterward, she knew the guilt would settle in. Regardless of the outcome, she knew they were going to regret and cherish the moment for the rest of their lives.

"How long?" Baatar asked her, their legs entangled under the covers and her hair disheveled.

"How long will I be here?" She shrugged, the motion hindered by his chest against her back. "A while. I'm working under Korra, so you and I definitely can cross paths again..."

"Kuvira, you don't honestly think I called you here just to- just to satisfy some shallow.." He paused, wrapping his arms around her, and she felt her skin burn under his touch. "I didn't ask to see you just so I could relive a good time."

"I don't think that," she said, rolling over. "I never thought that. But you're clearly trying to move on, even if you're doing a bad job of it."

"Maybe I'm making a mistake," he said, cupping her cheek. "But-"

"'Maybe'?"

"-fine, definitely," he conceded, "but if I am, it's the best mistake I'll ever make," he said. "I don't think I can ever feel the same way about another woman, not even if I try my hardest."

"You're a scientist," she said, smiling. "You've told me that forcing an experiment won't bring the breakthrough, and that many discoveries were really just mistakes in the lab. Stumbling onto the right combination, and the like."

"Well," Baatar said, going for another kiss, "I seem to have stumbled into a mistake that seems quite promising.."

"Have you?"

"And if you're willing to try again...if you're willing to help me experiment..."

"I've never been one to stifle your creativity," she said, sitting up as she regarded him contentedly, "and I'm happy to be your best mistake," she added, knowing from the smile that lit up his face that a breakthrough was imminent and rendering her innumerable slew of mistakes and penances a bit easier to bear.

A/N: Saigneux, I hope it was hot enough and anon, I hope I delivered for ya! And I hope y'all liked the format, I was feeling... experimental. ;) Now, a few things:

1. I hate both of them in this, what monumental pieces of shit. Infidelity? Really? Shame on you both, idc how casually you were dating that woman, Junior. 2. Baatar is a pathetic excuse of a human being if he only is faithful to Kuvira. Baatar, you're a turd and I'm sorry for writing you as a turd. 3. Kuvira, you're better than this. I'm sorry I did this to your character. 4. I do not condone infidelity, eff that. 5. But damn, it all just kinda worked with the oneshot. 6. I'm trash. BAAVIRA TRASH. 7. Zelda commentary reference!
Now excuse me cuz I'm gonna go marinate in shame for a day or two, bye guys