[AN] We are finally cooking with gas, as they say.

(rimshot)

Anyway, my humble thanks goes out again to my long suffering beta MidnightLion who tirelessly corrects my bad grammar and calls out necessary plot nigglies despite having lots of other things to do. And another grateful shoutout to my new friend fabio who's offered to help me with Leonardo's Italian - "Grazie!"

They Call Me J-No NagaMinionTwo 3h
FRAFF FoodTruckMasterNaga Kick ass tonight, boss!
#FoodTrucks4Life #FoodFightForever

Skoochy Skooch Skoochy 2h
FoodTruckMasterNaga You gonna rock this, baby!
Still #NagaForPresident

This Is Alice HotMamaLoveTrucker 2h
FoodTruckMasterNaga Make us proud girlfriend!
#FoodTrucks4Life

—

There was a line of people stretching down the block, all enjoying the savory fumes emanating from the brightly colored food truck as well as the unexpected entertainment emanating from inside it.

"Wu, toss me the special sauce. No, not that bottle, the other one. Wu! The one that says special sauce on the side!"

"Sorry, Chef!"

"Dammit, what did we talk about?"

"Shit! Sorry, Food Truck Cook Korra!"

"Oooh, I love it! I'm going to start calling you Food Truck Cook Korra, too!"

"Seriously, Jinora? Why don't you do something useful, like take some damn orders already!"

"You got it, Food Truck Cook Korra!"

A wide-eyed patron approached the order window. Jinora leaned forward and beamed at him.

"Oh hey, Skoochy, nice to see you. What would you like today?"

Skoochy blinked. "Um, tri-tip roll with extra onions and an empanada. You have a new guy I see."

"Eight bucks. Yeah, that's Wu. We're still breaking him in. By the way, you seen Mako lately?" Jinora smirked when she heard Wu bang his head on an overhead cabinet.

"He came by the gym on Saturday," Skoochy commented as he handed over a rumpled ten. "He's been all weird lately. I mean," he amended. "Weirder than usual. He even got in the ring to spar against this huge guy who was totally out of his league. No lie, probably outweighed Mako by about sixty pounds. Dude just mopped the floor with him. Don't know what he thought he was trying to prove."

"I couldn't possibly imagine," Jinora's grin grew wider. "Well, if you see him you tell him we all said 'hi', okay?"

"Sure thing." Skoochy leaned into the window. "Hey Korra, you gonna come visit me soon? Haven't seen you in a couple of days."

Korra turned, and smiled over her shoulder. "Probably tomorrow. Why, you finally gonna spar with me?"

"Thanks, I want to live a little while longer. Just worried you're gonna lose your guns."

Korra snorted. "My guns are just fine, Skooch, but I promise I'll see you soon. Now get outta here, we have a line to clear."

Skoochy chuckled. "See ya later."

Jinora waved, then turned cheerfully to the line. "Next!"

—

Wu wiped down the last counter then rolled his shoulders in attempt to loosen them up. "Damn, it's tough doing this in such a small space."

Korra smiled sympathetically at him. "A bit different from the kitchen at Sato Grill, huh?"

"I'll say. I'm sorry I made so many mistakes."

Korra handed him a bottle of water from the cooler then grabbed one for herself. She gestured for Wu to follow her out of the truck and together they secured the panels over the windows.

"Actually, for your first day in the truck, that wasn't bad." Korra leaned against the side of the truck and took a long swig of her water. "I think it took Jinora and me a couple of weeks before we really started jelling."

"Lies. I was fine right away. Korra was the one having all the problems," Jinora scoffed as she came around the corner of the truck followed by a grinning Naga. Her face was pained. "Did you change her dog food or something, Korra? She just did something really unspeakable." Jinora grabbed several bleach wipes and started scrubbing her hands.

Korra winced. "Sorry, you didn't clean it up already did you? I can go do it."

"Of course I took care of it," Jinora scoffed. "I certainly wasn't going to leave it there for some poor schmuck to walk through. But yes, we're adding this to the tab of things you owe me for."

"She seems okay." Korra rubbed a soft ear affectionately and peered at her dog. "Do I need to take you to the vet?"

Naga jerked away and leaped into the truck. Jinora burst out laughing and Wu turned to Korra in confusion.

"Did she actually understand you?"

Korra snorted. "She knows certain words; unfortunately 'vet' is one of them. She's been a complete wuss about going ever since I had to take her in to get a foxtail pulled out of her nose. She's currently hiding behind the passenger seat."

"You have a very strange dog, Korra," said Wu with a frown.

Korra punched him in the shoulder. "No dissing my dog, rookie."

Jinora looked at her watch. "Come on, let's get going. We have to get you ready for tonight, Korra."

"Oh?" Wu looked interested. "What's going on tonight?"

"Korra's competing in tonight's FoodFight. Oh, and she's got a hot date with your old boss," teased Jinora. "We need to make her look nice, though we probably really need at least three days to do it properly."

"Keep it up, you jerks," Korra growled. "It's a long walk back."

"Whatever you say, Food Truck Cook Korra."

—

Dinner service at Sato Grill on a Tuesday was normally a sedate affair; the dining room was never more than three quarters full and the staff often started closing the kitchen by nine-thirty. However, with a convention in town and articles about Sato Grill beginning to show up in travel magazines, the place was packed. At nine-thirty there were still people waiting for tables. The wait staff streamed through the kitchen doors — full plates going out, cleared plates coming back. Flashes of flame popped at the stoves as the line cooks shuffled their smoking pans and the bussers frantically racked tableware and pans to keep up with the demand. There was a new entree on the menu — hazelnut crusted pork tenderloin with chanterelle mushrooms, kale, and fava beans — and Asami hovered near the plating counter to make sure it was plated properly. She also kept checking her watch with an anxious expression, a fact that did not pass unnoticed by other members of her staff.

"Busy for a Tuesday."

Asami turned to see Opal at her elbow, her sous chef's green eyes twinkling with mischief. Asami made a noncommittal sound, pretending to concentrate on Kai's murmured encouragement to the interns.

Opal grinned and continued nonchalantly, "It's a good thing none of us have lives or the fact that we're strangely busy tonight would be a problem."

"I know what you mean, Chef," Asami jumped at finding Kya at her other side. "Social engagements when in the restaurant business can be a tricky thing. Best if avoided, really."

Asami threw up her arms in exasperation. "Would you two stop already? I don't have anywhere to be until after we close."

"Did you hear that, Kya?" Opal nudged the pastry chef. "Our executive chef has a social engagement!"

Kay shook her head. "I do hope you're not going out looking like that, Chef Sato. Not that you'll have time to go home and change!"

"Chef Kya!" Michael called from the pastry station. "Big order!"

Kya smirked at Asami before hurrying away. "Saved by the soufflé, but I'll be back."

Asami rolled her eyes in exasperation, as Opal handed her a squeeze bottle full of sauce. "Be useful; the interns are getting a little ragged."

Asami carefully finished the next half a dozen plates, then took advantage of a brief lull to make a round of all the stations. Despite the unexpected workload, the kitchen continued to function smoothly, she smiled in satisfaction, nodding with pride at the excellence of her staff. She looked over at Kya and Michael walking Melanie through plating one of the souffleés, and then thought of the carefully folded clothes packed in her duffle bag. She wasn't certain was the etiquette was for attending an underground food event, but she hoped she'd chosen well.

—

Korra pulled up to the front of Sato Grill at five minutes to eleven, stilling the engine of her motorcycle with a practiced flick of her thumb. She left her helmet perched on the seat and nervously ran her hands through her hair before tugging at the bottom of her leather jacket. Dressing her had in fact taken hours as she and Jinora had argued over the perfect balance of being prepared for a cooking competition while simultaneously impressing Asami with the fact that this was most certainly a date.

Wu had watched, wide-eyed, clearly not wanting to offend his new boss, but eventually he cut loose with an impatient "Girl, please!" and proceeded to plunder his way through Korra's entire wardrobe. With a mixture of incredulous and scathing comments, he tossed his way through the limited selection of jeans, cargo pants, t-shirts, and workout clothes. With a muffled shout of victory he unearthed a pressed, black Oxford button down that Korra hadn't even know she owned from the very back of the closet. He paired it with indigo jeans and a blue argyle bow tie he retrieved from the chest pocket of his jacket after extracting a promise that it would be returned unharmed.

Jinora squealed at the bow tie, ignored Korra's scowls, and then insisted on applying some hair gel to tame Korra's normally wild chocolate locks. Korra sighed heavily as her assistants continued to fuss over her appearance before they finally declared her presentable and released her to collect Asami, beaming at her like parents sending their child off to prom.

Korra stood in front of the steel and glass entrance to the restaurant, her stomach fluttering with anxiety. "Come on, Korra," she whispered to herself, "you totally got this." Her freshly polished Doc Martens thudded quietly against the stone tile as she made her way past the host podium and towards the bar.

"Korra!" Bolin reached over the bar to clap Korra on the shoulder. "It's good to see you!"

"Thanks, Bolin," she blushed slightly. "I'm, uh, here to—"

"To leave us with all the work while you sneak our boss out of here?"

Korra whirled to see Opal and Kya behind her, arms crossed and stern expressions on their faces. Her mind went blank as she floundered for a coherent response. To her exasperated relief, they dissolved into giggles almost immediately.

"The look on your face!" Opal chortled. "Blame Jinora for that, by the way. She texted me that you were on your way over and hoped that we'd give you some grief."

Korra ground her teeth. "She is so fired."

"Oh, don't bother pretending. Also, let's have a look, shall we?" Opal deftly unzipped Korra's jacket, then pursed her lips at the resulting view. "What do you think, Kya?"

The pastry chef took a speculative step forward before she reached out and tightened the knot of Korra's tie. "Quite dashing, I must say." She smiled, and then her face settled into a fierce glare. "You know what I'm going to say next, don't you?"

Korra blinked, then nodded slowly. "There's no need. I promise you that she will always be safe with me."

"Good," Kya smiled again. "I'd hate to have to kill you."

A throat cleared behind them, and Korra swallowed audibly in the sudden silence.

Asami stood shyly before them, wearing a form fitting burgundy sweater and dark gray slacks that molded nicely to her long legs. Her hair, normally bound in a bun or ponytail, fell loose around her shoulders, and Korra itched to run her fingers through the silky length.

"You look," she rasped, then hastily cleared her throat. "You look amazing."

Asami blushed, but her eyes sparkled at the reaction.

Korra stepped forward and held out a shaking hand. "We should get going," she stammered. "It's close by, but we're supposed to be there by quarter after at the latest." Her heart pounded as Asami gripped her hand and smiled warmly at her. Somehow they managed to make their way out of the restaurant, followed by cheerful calls of "Good luck!" and "Have fun!"

Asami looked skeptically at the old motorcycle as Korra handed her a helmet. Their eyes met as Korra double-checked the chin strap, her thumb brushing softly along Asami's jaw.

"I know it doesn't look like much," said Korra, noticing the look of doubt. "But it's perfectly safe and we're not going far."

A box containing her cooking gear and some favored extra ingredients took up the sidecar (including the block of Himalayan Chhurpi cheese), so Korra settled Asami behind her instead. Even with the other woman's arms wrapped around her, she managed to drive the eight blocks to their destination without crashing. Asami's grip increased steadily as they made their way up Market street; Korra felt real regret when they reached their destination and Asami relaxed her hold. The old office building had once housed a major newspaper, but was now scheduled to be remodeled into condos. Korra had no idea how the FoodFight organizers had managed to secure the use of it, and hoped they weren't all going to get arrested.

"Asami?" said Korra, a little breathless, as they pulled into the loading dock and dismounted. "I think you're going to make it hard for me to concentrate tonight."

"Would you prefer I left?" Asami teased as she removed her helmet and shook out her hair.

"Not on your life." Korra scooped up her gear and headed towards the line of people already waiting to enter. "I already swore to win in your name, and I intend to deliver on that."

"I'll have to think of a suitable reward."

Korra bit back a whimper.

—

They emerged from a long hallway into a large room where dozens of guests were already milling. Set against the far wall sat a raised platform with a table and half a dozen chairs. On either side of the table two temporary kitchens were still being assembled, extension cords and hoses being taped down by a crew under the direction of a short woman brandishing rolls of duct tape and a walkie talkie. Korra was impressed. Her last couple of competitions had involved small camp stoves and patio grills in place of ovens. To see such an elaborate setup was definitely new.

"Asami Sato," boomed a voice, and they both turned quickly to see a tall man with a thin mustache bearing down on them. "I am stunned and pleased to see you here."

Korra felt Asami stiffen and she placed a reassuring hand against her date's back. Whoever this guy was, she was already not a fan.

"Hello, Varrick," said Asami coolly.

"It's truly fortuitous that we've bumped into one another. I really need to talk to you about my latest endeavors!" He leaned forward and air kissed her cheek before he looped her arm through his and attempted to drag her off. Asami bit back a smile as she heard the low growl from next to her. Korra's eyes flashed dangerously as she dropped her gear and placed a firm hand against his chest, stopping him.

"Excuse me," she said through gritted teeth, her stance making it clear that she was prepared to force any and all issues he cared to raise. "Who are you, exactly?"

He sniffed as he peered down his nose at the irritated woman before him.

"Blackstone Varrick, of Varrick Enterprises. You've no doubt heard of me?"

"Can't say I have, sorry," began Korra, but she was prevented from saying anything more when Jinora ran up to her.

"There you are! I've been looking for you!" she burst out. "There's been a change to the format; they need you up front."

Korra hesitated, glancing over at Asami with a raised eyebrow.

"It's okay, Korra," Asami assured her. "You need to get ready. But before you go—" She leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of Korra's mouth. "I'll be sure to have settled on a reward by the time you win," she murmured.

Korra blushed, then grinned. She bowed, eyes sparkling, then retrieved her discarded belongings. "My lady," she said gravely, "I look forward to it."

As Korra sauntered away, Asami's smile grew. She turned with a sigh as Korra disappeared into the crowd and caught Varrick studying her.

"You appear to be here on a date, Chef Sato! You led me to believe this an unlikely circumstance the last time we chatted."

Asami rolled her eyes. "At the risk of sounding cliche, it apparently took the right person coming along."

"I see, I see. And it appears that she is in fact a competitor at this evening's event?"

"Yes," said Asami distantly, looking for opportunities to excuse herself before Varrick could propose some new business deal she would then have find a polite way to decline. She had been avoiding his emails for weeks; her one and only previous experience with him had involved setting up a restaurant in one of his new hotels. The experience had been so awful that she had resolved to never do it again, despite the fact that it ultimately turned out so lucrative that she was able to open Sato Grill. It infuriated her that someone so pretentious and aggravating could be so financially successful.

To her shock, Varrick suddenly straightened up and walked away. "I'll drop by Sato Grill at some point, to continue our conversation, Chef Sato."

Asami's jaw dropped, but she gathered herself and hurried in the direction Korra and Jinora had gone before he changed his mind.

"Asami! Over here!" She turned, and saw Jinora waving her over to a row of chairs. "I saved you a seat. I think they're going to start in a minute or two."

Asami sank down, watching as a line of people climbed the steps onto the central platform and sat down. The short woman with the walkie talkie handed them each a wireless microphone. They all tapped the microphones, sending small thumps through the speakers. To either side of their platform, several workers had wheeled racks of steel shelves into place, one behind each kitchen station. They were overflowing with food, spices, and other random ingredients.

Asami leaned over to Jinora. "Are the competitions always like this?"

Jinora shook her head. "Not at all. Usually they're much more low key, unless it's a sit down dinner competition. Those are usually at a host restaurant, or somebody's house. Somebody with serious money must've asked to sponsor one and made some specific requests. Normally, I would have gotten more dirt about that, but because Korra is competing and everybody knows I work for her, my friends who run this kept me out of the loop. I'm really mad; she won't be able to use the secret ingredient I brought her." She shook her head. "Oh, there's Korra."

Asami followed Jinora's gaze and saw Korra standing patiently at one of the kitchen stations. She had removed her button-down and tie, revealing a tight black t-shirt underneath. A large apron wrapped around her waist, and she had pulled a dark bandana over her hair to keep it back. She glanced briefly at the surrounding crowd, and smiled widely when she spotted Asami. She winked, then turned her attention back to her challenger. A small, dark-skinned man in a white chef's coat stood at the opposite station.

The lights went out, except for a single spotlight shining in front of the center table. Asami was shocked to see Varrick stride into the pool of light wearing a red cloak, of all things, carrying his own microphone and a pair of tongs.

"Ladies and gentleman! Welcome to tonight's edition of FoodFight!" He twirled his cape dramatically.

"What the hell?" Jinora muttered under her breath.

"Tonight, we are experimenting with a new type of competition. One which I hope you'll all enjoy. The rules are as follows: each chef is only allowed to use ingredients provided from our pantry. Each chef must produce at least three different plates of food, all using some element of a secret ingredient neither chef currently knows. They will only have an hour to prepare their dishes and they will be judged on flavor, presentation and originality. Finally," Varrick paused, for effect. "The winner will be awarded five thousand dollars!"

A collective intake of breath ran around the room. This changed everything everybody had known about FoodFight events. Previously, competitors were allowed to bring whatever ingredients they liked, and weren't required to use any particular item. They certainly never expected any prize beyond bragging rights.

Two young men in chef's whites wheeled out a cart covered by a tablecloth.

"Chef Korra!" Korra rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Chef Manny!" The dark-skinned man smiled eagerly.

"Prepare to meet your secret ingredient!" Varrick paused again, then whipped off the tablecloth, revealing platters of glistening pork belly. Asami glanced over at Korra and saw her staring intently at the cart.

"Chefs, you have one hour to prepare your pork belly dishes, starting… NOW!"

I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter in the saga of my adorkable cooking crew, and bonus points if you recognize what the new FoodFight format is inspired by...