Author's Note:

I just couldn't help it... I've also decided that Mako is ridiculously fun to write… and torture.

By the time the match ended, Mako, Bolin, and Korra were exhausted.

"I hope we never go into overtime again," Mako said as the three walked down the corridors of the Pro-Bending Arena.

"Oh, come on, Mako," Bolin sighed, "you gotta admit it was fun."

"Until we almost lost, because the avatar can't play on a team!" Mako shouted, turning and stopping to face Korra directly. Korra stopped as well, and Bolin—unaware—ran into her.

"Hey," Korra shouted back at him, as she took a step towards him, "I played fine!"

"You got cocky!" And as he said this, he also took a step towards the avatar, so that the two stood a foot apart, glaring and shouting at one another.

"Oh yeah? You want to talk about teamwork? You always take over! You rush in front of me and never give me a chance to actually do anything myself!" At her words, something unreadable passed over Mako's face, but it disappeared a beat later.

He took another step forward, which made Korra lean back slightly. There was something intimidating about him—his height, his fierce eyes, his reputation on the street—and instead of shouting back at her, this time his voice was loud but controlled as he said, "Well, maybe that's because you clearly can't handle yourself out there."

As Korra opened her mouth to respond, infuriated, Bolin interfered. "Okay, okay," he said, stepping between the two and shoving his brother back, "I think we all just need some rest, okay?"

"Right," Korra said, still angry and looking for a chance to get out of there—and away from Mako—as quickly as possible, "Well, I had better catch the ferry back—"

"Last one left a half an hour ago," Mako cut in.

"Okay, I'll swim, then."

"No way," Bolin shook his head, "Look, I know you're naturally a water bending gal, but it's late, and that's a long swim."

"I'm a waterbender," Korra said, "It'll be fine."

"Not an option," Mako said, his jaw tight.

"Oh? Well, then what do you suggest, captain?" Korra asked, hands on hips.

"You can stay with us," Bolin suggested, pumping his fist into the air.

Korra's eyes widened. "I can?" She glanced at Mako. His eyes were scrunched closed, in what she guessed was annoyance. Figures. He reached up and drew his hand down his face, then sighed.

"Bolin," he said, opening his eyes, "can we talk a minute?" His voice was clipped, his syllables short.

"Uh—" Bolin started to say, but Mako grabbed his arm and yanked him to a corner in the corridor where Korra would be unable to hear them. Not that she couldn't watch…

Yup. They were definitely arguing, but Mako's rigidity and frustration was losing ground to his brother's flexibility and charm. Finally, Mako threw his arms into the air and stormed away. Bolin stood for a moment, then walked to Korra. He scratched the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly.

"So?" Korra asked, arms crossed.

"Well, I convinced him. He's uh, getting a head start, y'know, setting things up for you."

"Oh, is that what he's doing?"

"Uh, yes? But I did tell him not to burn the place down. 'Not the best welcoming gift,' I said."

Korra laughed. "Well, good sir, lead the way."

Mako raced to the attic—taking three stairs at a time—and threw open the door. Racing past their tiny kitchen, he ran into the room he shared with Bolin and assessed the damage. The ground was covered with their dirty clothes—why was it covered with clothes? Why didn't they ever pick up! And—he looked closely at one particular heap of clothing—yes, those were definitely his underclothes. And Pabu, the damn thing, was sleeping on top of that pile.

He inhaled, then exhaled a breath of fire, trying to calm himself. This was ridiculous; he had no idea how Bolin had managed to convince him. They never had company! Ever! And they had only known Korra for a few weeks now. This was too soon, way too soon.

Mako darted around the small room, picking up piles of clothes from the floor—Pabu hissed at him, scratched him, and then the stupid little animal scrambled to the kitchen. Mako cursed and wrapped one of his dirty shirts around his arm. Luckily it wasn't bleeding much. He grabbed more clothes and threw them into a laundry basket. This was stupid, so stupid. He just knew he was going to regret this!

He sprinted out of the room, heading for the kitchen, when he paused, mid-step and sniffed. On second thought… He rushed back into their room and threw open their window. He ran back to the kitchen—thankfully he had cleaned it this morning—and grabbed the broom—if only he were an airbender, he could just airbend the dirt out the window… He swished the broom back and forth—

"Right this way, my lady," he heard Bolin say—

He roughly shoved the broom back into its corner and wiped the sweat from his brow just as Bolin, Korra in tow, entered the shabby apartment. The broom fell, and Mako had to hold in a groan. Pabu, who had been hiding in a corner, scrambled up Bolin's leg and wrapped himself around his neck. He licked Bolin's cheek, and the earthbender chuckled. Korra looked over and smiled at Bolin and the fire ferret. Mako rolled his eyes. He watched as Korra walked into the room, silent and with wide eyes, and Mako felt a blush creep up his neck. Yes, he was right. This was a terrible idea! She was used to grandeur, and here they were with this crap apartment. He looked down. He should have scrubbed the floors. He snuck a glance at Bolin, who rubbed the back of his neck. Definitely should have scrubbed those damn floors—

"Sorry, it's not much," he heard Bolin say and felt a stab of pain that he couldn't do better, that he had made his brother feel bad—

"What?" Korra's voice interrupted his thoughts. She turned and looked at the two boys. Mako watched her eyes travel towards the broom on the floor and saw her eyes soften. She glanced back at him and smiled.

"Why are you smiling?" He asked Korra, sharper than he intended. He watched the smile slide off her face. Her eyes narrowed, but a moment later, she shook her head. "This place is wonderful, guys. I know you both say it's not much, but I think it's perfect." She looked at the both of them. Mako suddenly felt awkward. Bolin smiled and gave the avatar a clap on the back. "I'll show you our room," he heard his brother say and watched him lead her towards their door. Bolin turned and grinned at him as he said, "Mako's going to cook up some food." Mako scowled.

"Wait, really?" Korra asked, looking over her shoulder at Mako. He shrugged back at her, and she smiled. "Thanks," she whispered, as Bolin lead her to the boys' bedroom.

"Well, here we are," Bolin said, arm outstretched. Korra stood in the room and looked around. It was small, but tidy, except for one corner that contained a stack of clothes. And even though a breeze blew through the space, she could still make out the smell of each boy in the room—Bolin's masculine earthy smell and Mako's spicy smoky smell. It felt like home.

She pointed towards the left side of the room—next to the window—and said, "That's Mako's side."

"Yeah," Bolin said, a little surprised. "Um… how did you know?"

Korra laughed, "Really, Bolin? It's kind of obvious. His scarf's on top of his bed, and even though you both have Pro-Bending clippings, his are about firebending and yours are about earthbending," she said, pointing to the opposite side of the room and the earthbending papers pinned to the wall. She smirked at him.

Bolin grinned back at her. "Yup, that would do it." Pabu scrambled down Bolin's leg and settled on his mat on the floor. Korra walked to the window and looked out at Republic City. She gasped; Bolin hadn't been lying when he said that the brothers had some great views. Bolin followed and stood next to her.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Yeah," he echoed back at her. "Pretty great, huh?"

"It's beautiful," she said. "You can even see Air Temple Island."

"I know. That's Mako's favorite thing to look at..." Bolin paused and looked at her. "He spends a lot of time just gazing out the window when he thinks I'm asleep."

"Really?" Korra asked.

"Yeah. I think it's the only time he gets a chance to just think. Maybe even dream a little." Korra turned to look at him. She'd never seen Bolin so serious. She punched him in the arm, lightly. He chuckled and bumped his shoulder into hers. "Yeah. Mako's always taken care of me, so that I've never had to worry. He tries to be all stoic about it, but I can tell that he really stresses about it, sometimes. Like he always feels guilty that he's not doing enough or something."

Korra looked across Yue Bay and the stars reflected in the water. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bolin look at her. "He's really a lot better than he seems," he said to her.

"Yeah. I know," she said, as she turned from the window. She looked at Mako's side of the room, which was neater than Bolin's, and sighed. "That scarf, though..." she started to say with a small laugh.

Bolin chuckled "Tell me about it," he said and cleared his throat. He gestured towards the kitchen with his thumb and said, "Want to see what Mako's got cooking?"

Mako opened the little icebox they had, hoping that they had something—anything—that he could make edible. Note to self, he thought, never have company over again. Especially Korra. It was just too stressful. He paused as he pulled out some meat… wait, where was she going to sleep? What was she going to wear? Why hadn't he and Bolin thought this out? And why was he just now remembering these logistics? Oh, maybe because he had been a frantic mess trying to make their crap apartment presentable—

"So what's for dinner?" Bolin asked, rubbing his stomach, "I'm starving." Mako held up the meat and shrugged, but he saw Korra smile, so he guessed that was good. "Good choice," Bolin said, pumping a fist into the air.

Mako grabbed three sticks from a bag lying on the floor near the icebox. He pierced the pieces of meat and placed several on each stick, then breathed fire over the kabobs. He handed one to Bolin and one to Korra, then took the one with the least amount of meat. He hoped no one noticed this, because there just wasn't enough. There never was. He wished this could be okay. It never was.

"Meat okay?" he asked the two.

"It's great," Korra said, chewing on a piece. "Thanks for having me, you guys. Really," she said and then she did that one smile where her entire face softened and her eyes looked so earnest and—

"'S always good," Bolin said, chewing. Thank the spirits for Bolin, Mako thought, as he tore his eyes away from Korra's face and looked at his brother, who happily munched the meat. Mako finally bit into a chunk, relieved that yes, it was good. He ate slowly, trying to savor what little there was.

Several moments later, the three had finished their dinner. Mako was still hungry, but he hoped the others were at least somewhat satisfied. What life would be like after those winnings! If they could manage to win them... His thoughts jumped to tomorrow's training... teamwork. Yes, he thought, that's what they must work on... And maybe he could show Korra some new firebending techniques...

Bolin stood and stretched. "Well, I think I'm going to head to bed," he said, "Been a long day, y'know?" He walked towards the bedroom, and Mako, seizing his opportunity ran after him. He grabbed Bolin's arm and yanked him into the room, shutting the door.

Bolin laughed. "Hm, my intuition tells me you're a little stressed, Mako."

Mako sighed. "You're a real genius, Bolin."

"So… why so stressed?"

"Where's she going to sleep?"

Bolin scratched his head, "Oh… yeah…"

Mako threw his hands into the air and sighed fire. Bolin's eyes widened. "Wow, didn't know it was this bad." Mako glared at him, and Bolin put an arm on his brother's shoulder. "It'll be okay, bro. Promise. Korra's chill, remember? And we'll figure this out. Okay?"

Mako took a deep breath. "Okay."

"Now," Bolin said, "We have that extra blanket, right?"

"Yeah," Mako said, striding across the room and throwing open their tiny storage bin. It felt nice to be in movement. He pulled out the blanket and sniffed. It smelled fine. Maybe a little old, but good enough. "This won't be enough, though," he said, frowning.

"Yeah," Bolin nodded in agreement. "What if we give her our pillows? As a kind of substitute mat?"

Mako groaned. That would never do, but what other option did they have? "Okay. Fine."

"And she can sleep in between us," Bolin added, then seeing the look on his brother's face, "Oh, don't look so upset, Mako. Remember breathing, yeah? Remember how it works? In, out, in, now out. There you go."

Mako rolled his eyes and snatched both his and Bolin's pillows from their mats. He laid them on the ground and then threw the blanket on top. "There!" Bolin exclaimed. "That looks nice. Go get her—she's probably wondering what we're up to—actually she probably knows that you're freaking out—as usual—and I'm calming you down—as always."

Bolin shook his sheet, waking Pabu, who ran to Mako's cot and nestled in the sheets. Mako groaned. "Tell that beast to get off my mat." He saw Bolin roll his eyes at him, but his brother whistled to Pabu, nonetheless. The fire ferret curled up near Bolin's mat.

"Well, night, bro," Bolin said, lying down and pulling the covers over his head. Mako extinguished the night lamp by sucking the tiny flame into his hand. He still knelt over the mess of pillow and blanket they had just created for Korra. Ugh. He tried to fluff the pillows but immediately stopped when he heard the door open.

"Mako?" Korra whispered as she slipped into the room.

"Yeah?" He whispered back.

"Look, if this is too stressful, I can just leave."

He sighed, and the flame in his palm brightened. "No. It's fine."

"Okay." Korra hugged her arms to her chest. Mako thought she looked as awkward as he felt. "Uh, Mako?"

"What?"

"Bolin's asleep, right?" She said pointing at the snoring lump.

Mako considered a sarcastic remark, but settled on just "yeah" instead.

"That was fast," she said.

"Yeah," Mako breathed. He didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah. Okay, so um, I'll just head back to the kitchen," Korra said.

"Why on earth would you do that?" Mako asked, still in a whisper.

"Um, isn't that where I'm sleeping?"

"Of course not. You're sleeping here. On this pile of…" Mako gestured pathetically at the little nest he and Bolin had created.

Korra lit a flame that matched Mako's in her palm. Suddenly Mako was reminded that this was the avatar. What was he doing? The avatar couldn't sleep here! But Korra had already strode across the room and knelt next to him. He couldn't bring himself to look at her; instead he studied the fire in his hand. Strong, sure, sparking—

Korra's hand was on his shoulder. His eyes met hers. She was doing that thing with her eyes again, that thing were they just turned soft… but no, that wasn't quite right... he struggled to find the words to describe what exactly her eyes were doing, but then she squeezed his shoulder gently, and he really couldn't find words anymore.

"Don't you ever relax?" She asked him.

"I do!" He said, defensively, but she merely raised an eyebrow and sighed.

"Mako, thank you. Really," she said. She released his shoulder, and though the warmth was gone, he felt slightly relieved. But her scent still hung in the air, and he tried not to breath. One turtleduck, two turtleduck, three turtleduck—

Nope. Apparently oxygen was essential. "Um, well, I'm going to just go over here," Mako pointed to his mat.

"Um," Korra said. She had extinguished her flame, and from what Mako could see, she was now hugging her knees to her chest.

"What?" He asked, sharper than he intended. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What?" He asked, softer this time.

"Do you um, have anything clean I could sleep in? My clothes are kind of gross from the match," Korra said all in a rush.

Mako sniffed his own clothes and cringed. He should've changed right when he got into the apartment. "Uh, let me look," he said, bending to sift through a little chest of clothing. He extinguished his flame, plunging the room into darkness, so Korra wouldn't see him sniff each article of clothing that he pulled out. Finally he settled on an undershirt that was fresh—it was small on him now, so he rarely wore it anymore—and some shorts, which he knew he was going to regret, but he didn't have any clean pants left, so Korra would just have to settle for mostly bare legs… he swallowed, then lit another flame in his palm and practically threw the clothes at her. He heard her make a noise of protest.

"It's all I have," he whispered.

"No, it's fine," she said, "but you didn't have to chuck them at me." He glanced at her. She had taken down her hair, which now hung loosely around her shoulders. It was longer than he thought it would be and thicker, too. And wavy, yes, it was wavy. An image of him running his fingers through that hair flashed through his mind. He shook his head. He was tired that was all. Tired, stressed, hungry… yes, that was it.

"Turn around," Korra whispered.

"What?"

"I'm going to change, so turn around."

"Right," Mako said, extinguishing his flame and grabbing himself some fresh clothes, too. He pulled off his shirt, preparing to change as well.

"Why are you rustling?" Korra hissed. On instinct he turned, gasped as he looked at her—found she had taken off her shirt and was only in her bindings, the moonlight on her skin—and abruptly turned around just as quickly.

"Changing," he muttered. He felt his face heat and cursed under his breath. Spirits. She was never spending the night again. Ever. And he was making her train in her parka from here on out. Even if it meant she ended up drenched in sweat. Sweat… He groaned and whispered a curse as he shook his head, trying to clear his fantasies. Think of the North Pole, he told himself, that's cold, freezing, actually…

Korra decided that she was never going to stay at Mako and Bolin's apartment again. She really couldn't relax here, and she definitely just saw Mako without a shirt. Not to mention he just saw her without one as well. She really didn't know why this was such a big deal… Bolin had taken off his shirt plenty of times in front of her, but for some reason, Mako had always kept his on. And she had seen plenty of guys without their shirts! Okay, actually, not really, it was pretty cold in the South Pole…

She smacked her forehead as she felt a blush creep up her neck. Her mouth had gone rather dry… she hurriedly threw on Mako's shirt—it smelled of him—and took off her pants and put on his shorts, which were a little big for her. She tried to think of anything but his broad shoulders and toned stomach and the hair that traveled down...

She heard Mako rustling around as well, but stayed completely still. She decided that she was not going to move, which was infuriating. But still, there was no way she was moving. Nope, none at all. Even if the world ended, she would just have to forgo her avatar duties, because never turning around was much more important. Never again seeing Mako without a shirt was her number one priority right now. Maybe Tenzin should try this tactic next time he forced her to meditate. Just put Mako without a shirt in front of her, and she could stay perfectly still with eyes closed, no problem. She swallowed; her mouth was still dry.

Still not turning, she whispered hoarsely, "Mako, do you have any water?" She heard him go still behind her.

"Can't you just bend it from the air?" He asked. "I've seen you do that before."

"I could… but I don't want to drink it."

"Oh…" She heard him swallow, "are you, y'know?"

"What?"

"Um, wearing—"

"Yes!" Korra whispered harshly, then asked, "Are you?"

"Of course." His voice sounded rough. She heard him shift and walk past her and into the kitchen. She exhaled, unaware that she had been holding her breath. He was wearing a shirt. Thank the spirits.

Mako walked into the kitchen, grateful that he had a chance to escape the room, which felt unbearably hot right now. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension, then swung his arms back and forth. Morning would be a sweet relief. Maybe he would even leave early and head down to the gym, relieve some frustration…

Water. Yes, come to think of it, he needed a glass, too. He grabbed two glasses—his and Bolin's—and filled them with water, trying not to think about Korra's bare legs. He tipped the glass to his mouth and gulped it down in one swallow. He refilled the glass and braced himself as he walked back to his room. When he entered, he found Korra on top of the blanket still. Determinedly looking only at her face—which still did no good, because her hair was all the way down, and he had never seen her like that—he shoved the glass of water into her outstretched hand. She only took a sip.

"Aren't you cold?" He asked, as he sat down on his mat.

"What?"

"Well, don't you want to get under the blanket?" He gestured wildly with his hands, hoping that his windmill arms would be threatening enough to convince her to just get under the damn blanket and stop taunting him with her stupid legs and stupid hair and stupid collarbone—

"Well, I don't want to lie directly on your guys' pillows, so… um…"

"Why? What's wrong with our pillows?"

She gave him a pointed look, but he had no clue what it meant. Suddenly he became aware that his jaw hurt. He frowned. How long had he been grinding his teeth? He heard her sigh. "There's nothing wrong with them, Mako. Jeez, why are you always so suspicious? I just thought that maybe you wouldn't want me to lie on them…"

"I put them there for a reason."

"You're impossible."

"Look, we don't have another blanket, okay?"

"What do you do when it gets cold, then?"

He smirked at her. "Firebender, remember?"

"You sure it's okay?"

"Yes," he hissed back at her. She shifted a bit, and he relaxed. She was going under the blanket… But then she didn't. A puff of his breath came out as fire. He saw Korra's eyes widen, so he tried to play it off. "Happens sometimes."

"Only when you're frustrated or mad," she whispered.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, feeling his forearm tighten, then relax. "Just go to bed, okay."

"I'm in bed."

"No, you're not! In bed would mean under the blanket!" He spat at her.

"What if I'm hot?" He just looked at the infuriating girl, reminding himself that he couldn't scream, because Bolin was asleep. She smirked at him, "Firebender, remember?"

That's it. He was going to lose it. He wished he could just blast a fireball in her face. Deep breaths, deep breaths, in, out, in, out. This girl was crazy.

"Okay, fine, whatever, ignore my advice. Stay up for all I care." He shot a tiny flame into the lantern by his cot and then reached into a tiny basket and pulled out a shirt, a thread, and a needle.

Korra snorted. She could not be seeing this right. Could Mako really be sewing? Of all things? She had always wondered who had patched up their shirts, but she never guessed it had been Mako this entire time! When had he learned to sew? She started to laugh; she couldn't help herself. Mako had scooted closer to his little lantern and was bent over the shirt, threading the needle through a hole. Suddenly she was very happy she had spent the night. Very happy indeed.

"Something funny?" He asked.

She was still in hysterics, which did not help the bruises on her stomach that she had incurred during the match earlier tonight. She grimaced, but she couldn't stop laughing. "It's just," laughter, "you're," more laughter, "sewing!" She wiped her eyes. "This is just too good!"

Mako glared at her. "Could you stop, please? Bolin's asleep."

She swallowed back a laugh. "Sorry. It's just—when did you learn to sew?"

"When I had to," he said. Fine, she thought, he didn't want to talk about it, so she wouldn't press the subject.

"Oh," she whispered, "that's, um, really nice of you."

"Look, it's less of a kindness and more of a necessity. Unlike you, I didn't grow up in luxury."

"I grew up in the South Pole. Believe what you want, but that's not really luxury."

He looked up, frowning. "But you're the avatar."

"I grew up in a hut, Mako, and after that, I was taken to a special training facility." She could tell that he wanted to ask more, but like her earlier decision, he didn't press the issue. She watched him sew, watched his forearm flex, then relax, flex, then relax…

"Hey! Why do you have a cut on your arm?"

"Pabu scratched me earlier," he said, still sewing.

"I could heal it if you want," she said. "I was just about to heal myself."

He looked up, and she smiled at him. "Wait, you're a healer?"

"Kind of. My waterbending master taught me a few tricks, but I'm, uh, not very good at it. I really didn't have the patience for it—"

Mako scoffed. "I'm not surprised."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, a little hurt.

"It's just that, you can be a bit impatient—and don't try to deny it, like you were a about to," he said, and Korra closed her mouth, mad that he seemed to know her so well sometimes.

"Whatever," she said and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked at Mako and saw his throat move. "Do you want me to try or not?"

"Heal yourself before you heal me."

"Fine." She drew the remaining water out of the cup, lifted her shirt, and laid her hands across her sore stomach. She closed her eyes and took a breath.

Mako watched in awe as the water around Korra's hands began to glow. He watched her lift her shirt, transfixed. Her stomach was leaner than he thought it would be. Her skin looked soft... he briefly imagined it against his. But his fantasy disappeared when he noticed the bruises that covered her flesh. He felt a flash of guilt. Why hadn't she said anything before now? He vowed to show her how to evade attacks better tomorrow and promised himself to keep a closer eye on her during matches; he wouldn't let her get this beat up again. Ever.

"Mako?" He heard her ask him. She was looking at him, curiously, with her furrowed brows. Her hands were no longer glowing.

"What?" he whispered.

"Uh," she looked away but continued, "you were just looking at me kind of funny, and you, uh, made this weird gasping sound when you saw my stomach..."

He had gasped? He hoped it had been after he saw her bruises, because then he could play it off that he was shocked she was so beat up, and not that, that... "When?" he asked, distracting himself from his own thoughts.

"When I lifted my shirt."

Shit. She looked back at him. "What?" He asked, harsh.

"Oh, calm down, will you?"

"Are you going to do it or not?" He asked her, suddenly wishing she would just get it over with.

"Fine," she said, and her hands began to glow again. He had never seen her do this before, but he had heard of waterbenders who had healing powers, though it was rare. He always envied that ability. Her eyes were screwed shut in concentration. Moments passed, and Mako watched, sewing needle still pinched between his fingers, but forgotten. Finally, Korra's eyes opened.

"Well?" He asked. "You did get pretty beat up in the first round of the match… feeling better?"

"A little," she said. She got up and walked to where he sat. She stood above him a moment—he tried not to look at her toned legs—before she plopped next to him. She grabbed his arm before he even had a chance to protest. She pulled some water from the air and let it encase her hands. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began.

Mako gasped. The water was cool on his skin, though not unpleasant, but that wasn't what made him gasp. No, it felt like the water was somehow inside of him—in his blood, in his skin—and it was sewing him back together. Just as he realized this parallel, Korra finished and looked down at her work. She groaned.

"What?" He asked. He looked at his arm.

"I left a scar," she said. "A scar." He looked at his arm again. Yes, there was a scar, but it was faint, very faint.

"You can barely see it, Korra."

"But I gave you a scar."

"It would have scarred, anyway. Let it rest, okay?" He had never seen her this worried before, and it bothered him.

She stood and walked back to her pile of pillow and blanket and finally slipped under the covers. She snorted, then said, "You're right. What, with the sewing and all, I guess you could use a good battle scar, even if you did get it from a tiny little fire ferret."

Mako made a mental note to smack Bolin on the back of the head if he ever tried to invite her over again.

They're just too much. :D