-. Better Beginnings .-

PART I

"So. You and Asami, huh?"

The speed with which he broached the subject made her choke on her tea.

Two minutes and barely one bite of moochi. That had to be some sort of record.

Even the press had the courtesy to touch upon her love life only after a prelude of pleasantries and photographs. That and/or a tongue lashing on why the new trade policy she helped draft would slaughter the economy.

Mako, however, had never been one to procrastinate.

So she swallowed the still-too-hot liquid, pretending to ignore the burning in both her throat and cheeks while struggling to sculpt an answer. It had to have the perfect balance of sensitivity yet confidence.

To her eternal regret, subtlety was still an element which Avatar Korra had yet master.

"Umm...Yeah," she mumbled as the silence started to sour. "Sorta. No- not sorta. Yes, I mean. I meant 'yes'."

All she could offer right then was as direct an answer as possible. Despite its harshness, honesty would forever be her most trusted tool. No matter how painfully awkward.

The cup imprisoned between her palms was failing to inspire warmth. Every item in the room, from the salt-weathered tapestries to the divot marring the varnished surface of their table, was given a thorough once over before she saw no other choice but to see him.

Mako was found to be smirking through a long, exaggerated sip, his eyes glowing like dying embers.

Korra mirrored the expression. He was still the same jerk-bender, after all, who frequently abused the privilege of knowing and pushing her buttons.

Soon enough, the tension dissolved and she felt herself shimmy into their usual, comfortable mould, despite it being nearly three months since they last laid eyes upon one another at Varrick and Zhu Li's wedding. They were just two ex lovers, now friends, catching up over familiar tea and treats; amused by, not ignoring, the somewhat inappropriate memories that this very same dark booth had collected what seemed like a lifetime ago. Their past selves lingered like brilliant spirits in the space between them; young and (relatively) carefree and so very, very much in love.

She had thought back then that she could never be happier.

How naive.

"Just so you know, it wasn't you."

"It wasn't me that what?"

Korra sighed. Was he really going to make her repeat the multiple gossip column headlines that dragged all three of them through the mud?

His unwavering smirk insisted that he was.

"You didn't 'convert' us."

As hoped for, a chuckle was unleashed which Korra translated as encouragement. "Well, obviously you know that's not how it - how we - work. I just...she just...you know?"

"Oh, I know."

There was no need to say anything more on the subject. Both experienced first hand how amazing a person, a partner, Asami Sato was. They both knew that she and Korra had formed a kinship over the years that he could barely comprehend let alone cultivate. Yet. If ever.

He also knew, very well, how passionate both women were. And if they had a small percentage of that fire with one another that they had had with him, in addition to a healthy mental balance, then they would no doubt be content for a long lifetime to come.

To his surprise and relief, the thought brought a calm to the usually frantic waters of his psyche.

Seeing Korra happy made him happy. Asami too. He loved them and they deserved it.

It was enough.

"To new and better beginnings." He raised his cup and Korra followed suit until both rims shyly kissed.

"Ditto."

It was two years later when a radio broadcast first hinted at it. Though Mako knew better than to take such sources to heart. He was in the middle of an especially harsh circuit at the police station's gym when Shiro Shinobi started his celebrity rant between the upbeat jazz ditties that kept them all in pace.

"Trouble in paradise for the Avatar and her lady love, who were seen squabbling-"

Mako let his heart beat drown out the rest as he concentrated on moving faster, easily passing the many younger, more muscular boys from the rookie squad.

He liked running. It brought him back to what was, arguably, a simpler time; to when he ran to dodge cops or proprietors after swiping an unsupervised edible. Now he was in the position of the chaser with a whole city of souls, not just a younger brother's rumbling stomach, depending on his stamina. The many, increasingly gruesome, unsolved case files were weighing down more than just his desk as of late.

Shinobi then said something else troubling. Something about the Avatar returning to the city. It screwed up his concentration enough that his toe caught a hurdle mid jump. Without invitation, he found himself dining on gravel. Over the flurry of cadets and colleagues rushing to help, knowing that nothing short of a stroke could get detective Mako to fumble, the rest of the radio report was drowned out.

Hours later, sitting at home with his twisted ankle resting upon the coffee table, he frantically pawed through the mail he failed to collect all week. Pinned to the wall above the radiator was the last letter he had received from Korra, the once crisp paper now yellowed and curled around the edges. Unlike her previous world tour dictated by shadows, she was making an effort to keep close friends and family in the loop with at least the significant changes in her life and schedule. Last he heard, she was in the Earth Kingdom in the process of being driven mad by Prince Wu and had no intention of leaving until both he and his kingdom showed signs of stable maturity. This, according to recent headlines, was still a long ways away.

He eventually tossed the pile of mainly take-out fliers on the floor to join the many others. The litter was almost thick enough to compensate for the threadbare carpet he never got around to replacing.

There was no new correspondence from anyone, let alone Korra. He imagined they had grown weary by his lack of responses. He didn't blame them.

While running a hand through his thick, black hair that had become a quarter inch too long for his liking, he remembered that Chief Bei Fong had accused him of being depressed a couple of weeks earlier. Not in the classic, obvious sense - as becoming a useless slob was a fate worse than death - but in a way that he simply cared very little for that which he did very well.

It never occurred to him to heed her words until that moment.

So he was depressed. No better time than the present, what with a stupid injury barring the blessed distraction of work, to go visit his brother.

"I'm not depressed," Korra was arguing half a world away. She slouched with her feet propped upon the desk, proving in her usual crass way that she was much too comfortable in someone else's seat. "I'm angry. I suggest you don't mix up the two again."

Suyin rolled her eyes before swatting the Avatar's dirty boots off her speech drafts. "Fine. You're angry. I suggest you get over it fast or at least feign otherwise. Here."

The offending pile of paper was shoved toward her side of the desk once again. It only served as kindling to the fire of the Avatar's rage.

To make a somewhat dramatic point, Korra intended to see the text go up in smoke. Literally. But before the flame summoning gesture could be completed, it was discovered that the iron arm of her chair had been fashioned into a shackle.

The representative from Zoafu was one step ahead of her ward's notorious temper. As always.

"Seriously, Korra? We don't have time for these immature theatrics."

"That little brat had no right to-"

"He's far from hurting anyone. Did you ever stop to consider that, beyond the obvious embellishments, this could be good for the kingdom in the long run? The council is unanimous in its support, so all you have to do is announce the project. Or don't. It's going to happen, regardless."

With a snort of derision, Korra released herself from the restraint, the metal frame bending back so forcefully that it was whipped into sharp spikes. She eyed the speech draft one more time before vehemently shaking her head.

"You do it. I just...I can't pretend to support him with this. I won't! He's blatantly undermining my authority."

"You have no authority here! Not anymore."

For once, she failed to dredge up a retort or even an exaggerated, destructive outburst. One could not argue with pure fact.

While adhering to the promise of a democratic system for his people, Wu's spoiled nature still reared it's ugly head in policy fine print. They were still getting flack for accidentally approving a 10,000 yuan allowance for royal footwear. According to Wu, seeing as his position has been reduced to a figure-head, he needed to maintain balance with bold figure-feet. Korra almost ended his reign with a few missing, figure-limbs.

And yet today, again, he still had managed to blindside her with a proposal to build himself a lavish new home under the guise of a new city hall. A proposal that had made its way through all other Council members and obtained all the necessary signatures before she even had a whiff of its existence.

She could, technically, destroy the project if only by using her media influence to fan the stink of corruption toward the people. It was tempting. If only to make a point. If only for revenge.

The cost would be the little, remaining influence she had over the Earth Kingdom Council. Also, perhaps, what shreds of trust the current government had spent so much time and effort reconstructing. It could crumble a system that, for all its faults and remaining dredges of class warfare, was without a doubt improving the lives of the majority of citizen.

It was difficult to put an exact price on integrity.

Slowly, to prove she had regained control, Korra removed her boots from the desk and ran her hands along the chair back so that it returned to its smooth, glossy original. Her eyes never left those of the woman she has once considered a mentor.

She wondered if all teachers, or all people, were destined to disappoint her. And vice versa.

"Fine. He can build his new palace. But I refuse to go out there and be the one to tell the people we're squandering their taxes yet again."

Suyin sighed for what was probably the hundredth time that hour alone. "It's a government office with a modest budget and we need it. Your support would be appreciated, but I won't force you to do something you don't believe in nor would I stop you from pursuing alternate angles. Our Republic expects the same courtesy. Especially from you."

And with that, the representative turned on her heel and left. Between the closing doors, Korra caught a glimpse of Wu's back from where he stood at the balcony podium along with all eleven other voted-in members from towns and cities across the old Earth Kingdom. He was standing as straight and confident as ever with arms wide open as if to embrace the crowd Avatar could do nothing but slouch further behind the desk as she listened to the jittering of reporters and cameras. Soon enough, muffled laughs and cheers reached her ears, evidence of yet another successful "Wu-ing" of the press.

Korra's lips pressed themselves together so hard she tasted copper.

Perhaps it was indeed a little cramped in these halls; the last surviving wing of the Earth Queen's residence. It also felt a lot colder as of late.

The next day, every newspaper celebrated Prince Wu and the new Earth Republic Council's brilliant design of a city hall/museum to replace the crumbling inner ring palace. It was sure to be a tourist highlight that would assist the economically limping city of Ba Sing Sei back toward stability.

Avatar Korra wasn't mentioned.

Despite the changes to his brother's lifestyle having been announced, described and embellished ad nauseum in letters and phone calls and even singing telegrams, Mako still found himself ill-equipped to process it all at once.

He had not been available for the housewarming nor the wedding nor even a single one of the less formal it's-a-Tuesday-let's-drink gatherings. The former events had been inconveniently scheduled at the same time as popular city festivals when, traditionally, half the police force called in sick. Whether to join the fun or avoid the stress, Mako would never know or understand. Regardless, as head detective he simply couldn't get away, especially across the continent. Bolin had been disappointed but understanding. At the very least, it was an opportunity to vanquish Varrick's high volume sulking by knighting him lack-of-any-better best man.

Mako remembered receiving the pictures in the mail and feeling a rare warmth in his chest that had once been constant. He also remembered dredging up some genuine enthusiasm a few months later when he was informed that he was going to be an uncle. But soon enough, like all other snippets of optimism, the news was overshadowed by bolder headlines of murder, mayhem and chaos. Thus, it took him an embarrassingly long time to recognize the changes in Opal as she waddled over to greet him from the yard of their modest, metal plated house. Only a kick to his ribs from her extended stomach as they hugged, violently brought her condition to his attention.

"You have good timing," Bolin said as he slid a steaming cup of tea over to his brother before settling himself in the opposite chair. "She's gonna be making her appearance any day now! I've got my money down on Tuesday. Wei and Wing are already out of the running by a week."

From the kitchen, Opal tutted her disapproval. "HE'LL be making his appearance when he's good and ready, next month!"

"You keep telling yourself that, sweetie!"

A strained smile inched it's way onto Mako's lips which he tried to hide with a sip.

Bolin continued the playful banter with his wife, poignantly giving his brother many chances to jump into the conversation, all the way through a meal of seemingly endless courses. Nori-wrapped, grilled sea-things, smoked meats arranged into blossoms, towers of pickled vegetables with rice noodles dripping in sauce and spicy pastries shaped like stars - delicacies their younger selves could only dream of now filled their plates to the point of spilling over, as if they were making up for the many meals lost.

Mako was sure to nod when Bolin sought confirmation of one of their pro bending feats. He fashioned polite but awkwardly concise answers to any questions directly posed. He would shrug or release a breathy laugh whenever future plans were mentioned, unwaveringly noncommittal as had become habit. With every vague, uncooperative response they managed to forcefully extract like a rotten tooth, the hosts' shoulders would sag a little further.

By the time Opal excused herself to bed, blaming the aches pregnancy though they were all too aware of other discomforts present, Bolin had come to a disheartening realization.

"You don't have to stay."

His tone contained not one hint of the shameless passive-aggression that had once been his trademark. They sat together on the back deck, tracing patterns in the heavens and wondering when exactly their destinies had been traded like the worn, pro-bender cards they used to collect.

The elder brother took a breath of crisp night air, feeling oddly discomfited by the lack of dust and smoke in his lungs. "I…want to want to stay," was all he managed, hoping it was enough to justify his packed duffel by the door.

"I know you do. I appreciate it."

Mako was halfway down the block, shuffling along as quickly as his crutch allowed, when the screaming started. His brother's screaming, that is.

Along with the breaking of dawn, Opal's water had followed suit.

"Isn't this just delicious!"

The photo was pressed so eagerly into her face that Korra was forced to take a step back. Hoping to humor her girlfriend and end the subject, she took a moment to scrutinize the bundle of fat, wrinkled limbs and beady eyes resting upon what looked to be an iron pedestal. It took a second to realize she wasn't being presented with a dinner option.

"It's a baby, not a dumpling."

"Oh, you know what I mean." After snatching the photo back with a teasing glare, it captured Asami's attention once more. "She's just so perfect! Bolin must be over the moon."

Korra bit back the urge to remind her that that particular friend practically lived on the moon. Instead, she returned her focus to the hundred pages of text sprawled over her desk. A new immigration-policy draft had just been delivered to her as a purely respectful gesture, seeing as it was already to be presented to the Republic Council for final approval early the next morning. She had been unaware that such terms were being negotiated let alone close to being put into practice. The last-minuteness of her involvement must mean that Wu was, yet again, trying to slip something past. Over her dead and reborn body would that happen.

Asami was speaking again. The words floated somewhere over her head and she swatted them away like listless moth-flies.

It wasn't until a bejeweled hand was waved in front of her eyes that she had no choice but to look up, pairing the motion with the most frustrated breath she could muster. "What?"

"I was saying that we should make a point to visit them on our way back to Republic City."

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not going back yet." Korra's gaze was reburied in the document before the mask of hurt and confusion could slip into place. It was an accessory that Asami wore much too often as of late and she had long since deemed it unattractive.

"But we agreed-"

"I know what we agreed. Things have changed."

"No, they haven't. You're not needed here anymore. And I have production on the new airships starting next month that I have to supervise. We need to move on, Korra. Forward." She gave the last word emphasis, reigniting a whole other debate they had been having on nearly a nightly basis.

They stared at each other for a while longer, both wordlessly pushing their independent agendas. A stalemate was quickly reached.

"Fine." Asami eventually conceded, the disappointment evident in her tone. "I'll go visit Bolin and then return to Republic City. You'll stay here."

Korra glanced at the document draft, then at her beautiful, faithful, talented and intelligent girlfriend; a woman that most people would gladly devote their lives to if not die for. Within a few seconds, the most obvious priority couldn't help but garner her attention. The scraping of her desk chair being pulled closer drowned out Asami's heels clicking on marble as she walked away.

"INCOMING!"

Mako barely had time to brace his arms before his niece came barreling into them from above. She had been guarding her reign at the very pinnacle of an iron monstrosity that passed for a jungle gym in Zoafu, a good 10 feet above the ground, before deciding to abruptly and dramatically abdicate the moment a familiar adult wandered close enough. It was difficult to be less impressed with her daring than terrified for her safety.

"Spirits, Kira!" He set her down before fixing her with a mock glare; the perfect vision of a stern policeman. "What did I just tell you about being more careful, huh?"

"You told me to look before I leap." she explained matter-of-factly while brushing at what was probably permanently embedded mud streaked across her tunic. "I looked. I saw you. So I lept!"

Before he could even attempt to argue with her flawless logic, she was running off, reminding him that he had little authority over those under the age of five.

He returned to his seat on the bench, vigilantly staring as she did a shrieking circuit around the playground, her long, dark ponytail trailing behind her like the tail of an especially bright comet. He smirked at the comparison, believing her almost equally destructive as a piece of molten rock hurtling through space. Also, equally awe-inspiring.

Amber eyes followed closely as Kira began her assault on a giant, metal ant-pede half buried in the sand. It had been fashioned by her uncle Huan as some sort of artistic protest, but was quickly requisitioned as a plaything by a growing army of nieces and nephews to the point that he had no choice but to reassign it. Between the legs she was beginning to climb, Mako's attention was diverted by two other figures taking advantage of the creature's shade. There sat a woman, her long wavy hair swept aside by a pearl comb, holding the hands of an infant who was obviously just learning to stand. Both were staring at him intently, fixing him with identical wide smiles and sea-green eyes.

He made his way over, if only to ensure that Kira didn't meet to her untimely death on his watch.

"Hi, you."

Her voice was exactly the same. Soft and slightly musical. Funny, he expected anyone who had dated Avatar Korra for so long to have earned a raspiness from all the screaming.

"And who is this?" Mako asked, gesturing to the babe whose knees had buckled and was now frantically clawing at the sand. The little one's smile had since been replaced by a scowl, annoyed and surprised that a substance so solid on the ground refused to keep together once in his tight, chubby fist. Mako sympathized. He knew the feeling well.

Over the following hour, Mako learned that the boy's name was Hiro, he was 7 months old and he was one of two children Asami had recently adopted. Her daughter, Kimi, was 3 years old and was being watched by friends back in Republic City while she finalized a contract here in Zaofu for materials.

"Hiro's a bit too young to leave just yet," she explained while bouncing the child on her knee. "He goes where I go. It's tough, but I'm managing with some hired help. I wouldn't trade it for the world."

They parted that day with polite but empty promises to meet up for a meal once they were both back in the city.

Always the engineer, Asami could recognize a faulty structure long before it actually fell apart. She had outgrown the habit of building on unstable foundations. From the moment she had decided she wanted to raise children as well as redirecting the lives of some unfortunate city orphans, steps had been taken to make it happen. It never mattered that those steps took her down different, lonelier paths.

Mako and Kira waved them off as their gorgeous, new satomobile pulled away from the curb. When they disappeared over the horizon, he started to feel strangely satisfied by the feel of his boots sinking into the sand.

It was as if the very earth had finally decided to make room for him.

More sake was clumsily delivered to her table, the escaped splashes converting her newspaper into something now only useful as a napkin.

A few weeks ago, this may have set her off on a tirade, blaming everything from the server's general incompetence to the pottery maker's faulty design. Lucky for both, she was too exhausted to attempt anything of the sort. Not tonight at least. Not when the wind, rain and humidity were howling just loud enough to set her teeth on edge and keep her skin in a perpetual state of cold, sticky dampness.

Korra pulled the steaming carafe closer to pour herself a cup, purposefully smearing Wu's front page smile as she did so. The cheap rice wine tasted like liquid fire in her veins, warming her hollow places for a glorious few seconds before condensing into the fog which cradled her brain.

She poured herself another. And another, less than a minute later, for lack of anything better to do now that her reading material had been requisitioned.

Then another.

She allowed herself to get just past the point of numbly drunk and bask in its glory before prompting her blood to burn off the excess. The purpose of tonight wasn't to embarrass herself or give the public more ammunition against her causes; it was to simply have some time not feeling.

She should have known that such a luxury, easy and uncomplicated for most, for her would be akin to a sharktopus attempting to live on dry land. Only a few, increasingly painful breaths could be seized before she was dragged back to the depths by instinct. Yet that did not stop her from repeatedly trying to fight both nature and fate.

It was upon her fourth round of this that he decided to walk into that very same izakaya; one that she had purposefully selected for being remote, dark and unpopular enough to retain anonymity. As he sidled up to the bar, his coat and hair dripping dark, blood-like splatters onto the bamboo mats, she acknowledged that the Spirits were most likely toying with her. They were often prone to do so nowadays in an attempt to garner her attention.

Korra made a mental note to track the specific ones responsible and give them a piece of her mind. Or, better yet, a taste of her fists. Most likely it was Shin-Lei and Shu-Lai; twin, flower-like entities that did very much enjoy both entangling and unraveling human lovers. The Spirits' involvement and influence over human affairs was a secret privy only to the Avatar, as people may understandably panic if they knew how much they could control if they wished.

As the bridge between the two, Korra liked to think she was beyond their meddling. She took another, deep gulp of sake and this time let herself marinate if only to prove she could handle it.

"Fine night for forgetting, huh?"

Mako had a glass of amber liquid halfway to his lips, one that the bartender slid over to him without even having to be asked, when he first locked eyes with her.

His expression eventually morphed into one of mild surprise even though the instinctual reaction, which she only caught a glimpse of, was agony. As if her very skin were radiating poison. She recognized the look because, brief though it was, she felt exactly the same.

Mako took a second to consider his glass before downing its entire contents and then moving to join her.

She approved the decision. It made things easier if they were equally muddled.

"So," after gesturing for another dose, he slid into the booth across from her as if that were the plan since the beginning. The eight years that separated them were silently placed on a back burner to simmer and condense. "You and Asami, huh?"

Korra shot him a wry grin, impressed if not annoyed with his daring. "Done. A long time ago. But you knew already that."

Mako's sympathetic smirk was already buried into a fresh glass.

"You? Bolin mentioned something about a girl back in the day," she prayed he didn't pick up on the obvious under-embellishment, as if she hadn't memorized every word about Mako's life that Bolin peppered his letters with. "He implied it was serious."

"Tali." He said the name as if it tasted overly sweet between his teeth. "Tali Linnel. And yes, it is. Sorta."

"'Sorta?'. How romantic."

"Funny you should say that." A black, velvet jewelry box was tossed onto the table and landed like a gavel. It was impossible to feign anything except shock upon recognizing the item and its implication.

In that moment, eight years may as well have been eight hours. It still felt much too soon. Too much. Too disrespectful of what they once had.

"Congratulations," she deadpanned.

"Thank you."

Dragging the box back into his pocket like a dirty bribe, they then finished their drinks in silence. As impetuous as both were, neither wanted to read too deeply into why their paths crossed tonight of all nights. Neither had to know that the reason they were both in that izakaya was not only to forget, but to wipe the slate clean and jump headfirst into shiny, new futures that were looking grayer by the second.

It was after the third carafe that Korra cracked slightly. The salty truth quickly began to leak and pool and tarnish all in its wake.

"I'm suppose to go back to the South Pole tomorrow," she admitted while using her waterbending to messily refill their cups with trembling fingers. "The papers will say it's because I'm overseeing the building of a new healing center for Katara. They'll say that I'm going to where I'm most needed, to my roots, and I'm redirecting my attention to community betterment now that the government is stable. But…"

But I know that everything is on the brink of chaos again, and I feel powerless.

But I am succumbing to a near decade of fruitless exhaustion and am giving up.

But-

"But you know me. You know better."

Mako nodded, using his fire to heat her cup until it was steaming once again. Her struggles with the Council and other leaders were widely publicised and especially well known to him. Over the years, he had found himself skimming any and every newspaper he came across for mention of her name. An obvious pattern soon emerged, as the Avatar title became more of a reference and/or footnote more often than a headliner.

She was being phased out.

For Korra, it was a fate worse than death. At least that end came with re-birth and a fresh chance in new, untainted skin.

Now that her demons were exposed, Mako felt it was only polite to offer them company.

"I bought this ring because I'm more likely to get promoted if I'm seen as a stable member of the community. As chief, I can do more to help the city and weed out corruption. Tali's nice. She'll take care of me and vice versa. But..."

But I don't love her as much as I should.

But she doesn't make me happy, just comfortable.

But-

With her eyes, Korra was both daring him to say it and begging him not to.

Mako was never one to back down from a challenge. "But she's not-. You know."

"Yeah. I know."

The server came to refill their carafe, doing his best to keep out of the way of what appeared to be a marathon staring contest with dire stakes.

All of a sudden, Korra realised that this was the first time she had seen Mako since Asami left her. And without that beautiful girl's brilliance by her side, she was reminded of the shadow he had always cast; a monstrosity of jealousy and anger and resentment and so many other factors that had led to their inevitable severance. There was also, undeniably, that same omnipresent, near-suffocating heat that had inspired her younger self to kiss him while knowing he was spoken for.

As teenagers, it was enough to be attracted to and impressed by one another and label it a lasting love. As adults, they both knew it was much more complicated and way less to do with passions. It was parallel goals, schedules, hopes and dreams that made a relationship last. Mako remembered thinking how lucky he was after his first date with Tali. The girl was beautiful and kind and positive and, more importantly than her liking him, she understood the pressures and expectations of his job. She brought him and his colleagues fresh baked sticky buns every Tuesday. She attended functions on his arm, not a minute late, wearing her mother's borrowed pearls and a gown always on the perfect border of tasteful yet decadent. She loved his niece almost as much as he did, and arranged their visits as often as his schedule allowed.

She was good for and to him.

Korra was not. As evidenced by her filling his cup for what was probably the fifteenth time. She was still needy and morose. The dark green, threadbare parka she wore as well as her shoulder length hair piled messily on her head reminded him that she would never be a woman whose purpose would be to enhance her partner. Korra was not an accessory. She was the center, the leader, or nothing. She dominated constantly and relished it. Every place except one…

Mako involuntarily blushed as he couldn't help but remember events long since buried for the sake of his sanity. Those few fevered evenings involving newly minted handcuffs, bites that broke skin, glowing eyes and charred head boards. When he was too young and inexperienced to understand what was to be considered normal, and to realize and appreciate that the Avatar was far from it in more ways than one.

"What?" Korra asked, a smirk in place as if she knew very well what was going on inside his head.

"Nothing." Mako shook the memories away like cobwebs.

Tonight he was having drinks with a friend to celebrate their soon-to-be revamped situations.

Tomorrow, he would proposed to Tali and likely be elected chief by the Council before his 35th birthday, right on schedule. Maybe afterward he'd change his mind about having his own children. Korra would quickly grow to enjoy her time in the south with her family, taking a well deserved break from politics as well as focusing more on individual citizens and spirits as the need arose.

This was to be a celebratory wake of an old, honestly wretched chapter in their lives and nothing more.

"To new and better beginning!" Korra toasted a little more loudly than would be considered polite. Mako laughed and raised his cup in solidarity until both rims boisterously kissed.

"Ditto!"

It was the rain's fault.

At least that's what Korra told herself.

After closing down the izakaya, they discovered that the sky was still raging with the ferocity of an angry, mother saber-tooth moose-lion who had just misplaced two cubs. Therefore, Mako had to escort her to her nearby hotel if only so that she could partake in the flimsy protection of his umbrella. It was his duty as a gentleman if not a police officer. And Korra had to invite him up to her room to dry off and wait out the storm's climax, for it was only polite to do for an old friend.

What happened next was totally the rain's fault. No question.

Regardless of it orchestrating the convenience, it had also heightened her senses. Things long since buried in the basement of her thoughts were now floating up and breaking the surface as a result of the flood. She was leaning on him as they entered the elevator, giggling as those in a state of utter inebriation are prone to do without reason, and at such a vantage point she couldn't help but notice how the water highlighted his skin. The wetness made the thin material of his coat cling to what were still the same impressively muscular arms and shoulders on a lean frame. She was riveted by the droplets clinging to the stubble on his jaw before they succumbed to gravity and ran down his neck to whatever sweet haven lay beneath the collar.

The rain reminded her of how damn beautiful he still was.

In a different way than Asami, of course. Where the heiress had been all silk and perfume, the officer was leather and sweat. Opposites and yet equally appealing in their own rights. Tonight she was notably being drawn toward one direction. If only because it had been longer since sampled.

When the elevator arrived, she stumbled in beside him, too distracted to properly place one foot in front of the other. The doors closed and blanketed them with enticing solitude, heavy with the hope - the expectation - of something...invigorating. Something that could gloss over the dull days coming, if only temporarily.

She couldn't stop herself anymore than she could stop the pull of the tides or resist greedily gulping down a glass of water after days in the desert.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Korra bent a few droplets together on his skin and her lips reached out to taste the resulting, particularly juicy looking bead just to the right of his adam's apple. She grinned as his whiskers tickled her nose and cheek, never having experienced such a strange sensation. Back in their younger days, he was barely old enough to shave and with Asami - well, obviously such a thing had never been a factor with her.

Without bothering to think about it, she tilted her head to seek more of that sweet water, gripped with an undeniable need. Up his neck, to his ear, her tongue darting out to gather as much as possible, her powers seeking the moisture in his clothing and evaporating it wherever her palms made contact.

She told herself she was simply thirsty. It was the damn humidity messing with her temperament. What was Mako's excuse for latching his teeth onto her earlobe in response? She would probably never know. Perhaps he was hungry. Ravenous, in fact, judging by how quickly he clawed at the neck of her parka to expose more skin. Perhaps that soon-to-be fiance of his was generous with her baked goods and nothing else.

The elevator was a slow moving, rickety thing and her room was on the top floor. She estimated at least two minutes in this limbo where logic did not exist. This dance had once been a regularly practiced speed event for them; an exhilarating race played out in bison stables, locker rooms, broom closets and even the odd public lavatory. There hadn't been much of a choice when an army of adults had constant close eyes on her and privacy was never complete.

Two minutes. It could be enough time. It had to be.

With curled fingers, she yanked at his lapels so that his body pinned her against the wall and inspired him to lift her onto the rusted, brass railing so that her toes barely touched the ground. He groaned against her neck and she parroted the primal sound with relish, whispering a quiet "yes" to let him know that it was all right. It was more than alright. That if he didn't follow through with what was surely now in progress, she'd air blast him off the roof the instant they got up there.

There was a flurry of slippery leather belts and tangled drawstrings and then he was there. It felt like coming home after a long journey. His hands began shaking at the sheer intensity of it while Korra lost her ability to breathe for long seconds. Everything was familiar and yet those slight differences were much more pronounced and appreciated. In addition to the stubble, she wasn't used to the hair product that kept his unruly mane in place, but it smelled like ash and cinnamon and warmth. For Mako, her shorter hair was proving to be a welcome change for it was easier to wrap around his fingers without tangling and pull just hard enough to make her wince, the way she used to ask him to do those last handful of times they had been together.

The chime of the elevator arriving was drowned out by rapid breaths and the knocking of her back against the wall as they moved together. Korra barely noticed the doors opening out of the corner of her eye. She had just enough sense left to realize that a) they couldn't stay put and b) that two minutes was not enough time. Not by a long shot.

They had years to make up for; a past to properly mourn.

Somehow, Mako ended up with his bare back pressed into the cold floor tiles at the entrance of her hotel room with Korra above him. Korra riding him with savagery never before seen, her hair a tangled mess, her wet and tattered parka falling off one shoulder and her nails desperately digging into his hips, forcing him closer. Deeper.

He had never been more aroused nor humbled by any other sight in his life.

She came quietly, as she was prone to do, but the intensity of it was showcased by spasming thighs and the way she slumped forward onto his chest, boneless, unable to hold herself up. He hardly noticed following shortly after her, for he had been on the brink since the moment her lips touched his skin what felt like ages ago.

Though brief, the coupling was no doubt the most invigorating they had ever had together, considering that each now had a couple of years practice and alternate partners to compare. But it wasn't a relief. Not in any way, shape or form.

If anything, he grew exceedingly tense as soon as they were finished. He could feel Korra's body following suit as it settled down from its high and heavy fragments of reality hitched a ride along the way.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his collar before abruptly pulling herself off of him.

He lay there sharing looks of utter bewilderment with a cockroach crawling across the ceiling as she gathered fresh clothing, slammed the bathroom door and started the shower.

When she returned to the room, rubbing a towel aggressively over her head as if trying to manually erase memories, Mako was gone.

Good.

She had a boat to catch. The storm had long since drowned her ability to feel anything other than tired.

It was the damn rain.

Author's Note: Long story short, this is a one shot I started write-doodling after the finale to make myself feel better and as a semi re-write of "The Knot" which was completed after Book 2. Of course, it ended up being ridiculously long so I had to split it. After much review reading and deep thought, I eventually came to accept Korrasami even though I still believe Makorra to be endgame in the long run. Not because Asami was a "phase" or anything, as many fics I've read have implied, but because I still don't think they are good for one another. Especially Korra for Asami (she's a beautiful heiress. She can do better! Haha). I think Asami needs someone more stable and ambitious while Korra she needs someone more stern to keep her balanced. I feel this way because I've seen it played out in real life.

Long story: My best friend, let's call her "Kanny", always reminded me of Korra. She's a larger than life personality who is always loud, commanding, and is known to piss me off on many an occasion just for being too brash or making what I consider stupid decisions. Still, no matter what comment or action has led to my anger, I know her heart is always in the right place. She will always apologise and explain and I'll always understand and we'll always make up. Her life is still a lot less predictable than mine and she likes it that way. In comparison, I am quite the stick in the mud.

She is also bisexual.

When Korra ended I was originally shocked and confused by Bryke's pairing choice, but in comparing her to my friend I think I finally understand if not appreciate the character's tangent. Kanny has dated many men, but her longest and strongest relationships have always been with women...this goes for female family, friends and lovers. She has loved men and is definitely attracted, but has never fully connected to one. Some may call it "daddy issues" (and there is no doubt that her father is indeed a negative factor), but I choose to call it a sensitivity preference.

After the finale, the comparison to Korra was never so strong. I thank this friend of mine for helping me see what Bryke was trying to show even though they probably should have "grown a vagina" (alternate version of "grow some balls" since vaginas are so much tougher) and fully represented and supported homosexual relationships in advance of the finale. It would have been a lot easier to understand and accept if there was any minute implication that such pairings existed in the Avatar universe even as background characters.

After a 4 year on and off relationship with a great but uncertain woman, Kanny recently started dating a new guy. Things are going well so far and I wish the best for them, not because he's male but because he is a better support for her. As a forever Makorra fan, I do not believe Korrasami is endgame nor is it a phase. I believe it is yet another step in Korra's journey which will help shape her into a great adult let alone Avatar. After all, most people don't end up marrying the person they date at 21.

Well, I did, but that's another story.

I also want to take the opportunity to thank my new daughter, Kira (real name originally inspired by the Dark Crystal character, but it is not lost on me that Korra could have had some influence), for helping me be more open minded. My reaction to the finale, a week before she was born, was primarily negative and I wanted to cleanse my broken heart of all Makorra fragments even though it had been such a large part of my life for so long. Now I see that I can still love these characters for their pasts and still unrecorded futures.

I hope you enjoyed reading my take. Part II coming soon. I was going to end it here, but i felt like adding some soap opera drama to humor myself and vere on a different path from my other fic "The Knot". Please leave any questions or comments and I would be happy to reply.