I couldn't handle Lin's "what the flameo happened here?" on Friday so I wrote this.


Tenzin bent over the counter, slowly chopping his vegetables for stew in the disappearing light of the sunset.

"It's a little late to make stew," Lin pointed out. She leaned on the counter on the opposite side of the small kitchen. She folded her arms over her chest. The swelling in her shoulder had gone way down since it had been originally dislocated a few weeks ago, but it still stung every so often, if she moved it just right.

"I brought all the things to make it for you, so I'm going to do just that," Tenzin insisted, nearly separating the tip of his thumb from the rest of him.

Lin's lips pulled up into a sort of appreciative smirk. "Let me at least give you a little more light." She turned and reached into a cupboard with her good arm to retrieve a candle. She grabbed a pair of spark rocks and set the candle next to Tenzin's cutting board. After striking the rocks a few times, she sighed. Lin put more force into her next strike, finally catching a spark, but a large one. Small burning sensations hit her fingertips. She dropped the rocks and shook her hand out. "Fuck," she muttered, then immediately covered her mouth.

The quick movement aggravated her shoulder. She took her hand down and rested both on the counter. "Shit." She bit her lip. "Tenzin, I'm sorry."

He smiled, set his knife down, and put a hand over hers. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," she breathed.

Tenzin knelt down to pick up the spark rocks.

"They're rubbing off on me, the other officers," Lin explained. "I'm really sorry."

"Lin," Tenzin set the rocks on the counter. "I'm a big boy. I can handle it."

"I know, but-"

Tenzin kissed her cheek. "Apology accepted."

Lin's smirk returned. "I'm going to go take this off," she breathed. "I've had it on today for long enough."

Tenzin picked up his knife and returned to chopping as she left the kitchen and headed for her bedroom.

From behind her closed door, Lin carefully bent the metal police uniform off and let it clamor to the floor. She flopped onto her bed and just lay there a minute, eyes closed. Her shoulder throbbed. She missed the cotton uniform she'd worn working behind a desk the past two weeks.

How could she have said that in front of Tenzin? Aang would've given her a lecture. She'd overheard what he said to her mother every time he walked through the station.

Lin pouted as she opened her eyes and focused on her wardrobe. She preferred to slouch around her apartment in her sweaty tank top and loose police pants. But no, not with Tenzin here. Ladies don't do that. Ladies don't say fuck either, Lin thought as she pushed herself up. She peeled the tank top and pants off her body and slipped on a cotton robe that had been worn just enough to be comfortable and half way presentable.

When Lin returned to the kitchen, Tenzin was finished chopping and had dumped the vegetables into the pot of water over the stove. He stirred slowly, and the warm scent of the stew was beginning to fill the room. The candle Lin had lit glowed next to him.

Lin wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back as he stirred. "Thank you, Tenzin," she said. "I mean it."

"How's your shoulder?" he asked.

"Better, still, I think."

"I thought your mom was having you do desk stuff," he said. "She doesn't make you wear your metal for that, does she?"

"No," she murmured. "Today she wanted me out writing tickets."

"Still, though."

"I'm a metalbender, so it's protocol. Some people get pretty upset when you give them tickets."

"You said you didn't fight today."

"I didn't." Lin squeezed him a little to reassure she hadn't lied. "It's just the rule."

Tenzin pulled the spoon from the pot and set it aside. "Do you want to ice your shoulder?"

She nodded against his soft muslin robes.

Lin let go of Tenzin so he could get one of her ice packs from the ice box. He was a little frustrated by the ratio of ice packs to food, but he kept his mouth shut and pulled a pack that looked shoulder-sized. "Let's go sit for a while," he said, pressing the ice to her shoulder.

"What about the stew?" Lin asked, relaxing under the ice and letting Tenzin lead her anyway to the living room pile of pillows she'd labeled as "the couch."

"It's stew," he answered. "So we can let it stew."

Lin smiled. "Alright."

They settled on "the couch" with Lin in Tenzin's arms to hold the ice pack down. She rested her head on Tenzin's chest, and for a while they didn't say anything. The smell of the stew filled the entire apartment, and the sun disappeared completely behind the surrounding buildings. The candle by the stove flickered, but it's light didn't quite reach Lin and Tenzin.

The throbbing in Lin's shoulder calmed down and numbed away. Once she felt more cold than relaxed by it, she moved to pull the pack off.

"I don't think the stew is ready yet," Tenzin said.

"I just wanted to take the ice off," Lin answered, dropping the bag onto the floor and leaning back on Tenzin.

"Are you sure your shoulder is alright?"

Lin nodded. "It'll be fine."

"My parents will be home in a few days if you wanted my mom to help," Tenzin offered, gently poking her side.

"I don't want to bother her." She grabbed Tenzin's hand to stop him from prodding her.

"You wouldn't be," he said. "I think she misses it a little bit, to be honest, since Bumi's off in the army now."

Lin smiled. "Alright. We'll see."

Tenzin took Lin by her arms and gently moved her to sit facing him. "I like coming here after you get out of work. It's nice."

Lin recounted all the times she'd come home from work to find Tenzin making her dinner, Tenzin making a fire, Tenzin pacing the floor because Toph had summoned his mother to the station. "You're usually cleaning me up," she said.

"I like getting to relax with you, even if that means some clean up." Tenzin curled his hands around her cheeks and pulled her closer to him for a kiss. "It's also pretty sexy when you swear," he whispered.

Lin punched his shoulder but pressed her lips back onto his.

Tenzin wrapped his arms around Lin's waist, and she sat in his lap; her hands took hold of the back of his neck. They kissed and laughed and held each other, but mostly kissed, until Lin caught in the corner of her eye the pot of stew on the stove. It had bubbled over and dripped down the pot. "Fuck," she whispered.

Tenzin kissed her one more time. "What?"

"The stew."

He turned to look into the kitchen. "Fuck."