Song 1 - Bad Idea - girl in red

Neither noticed that they had been intruded upon. In fact the building could have collapsed into rubble around them and they would have gone on believing they were the only two people left in the world, beneath the most perfect, bluest sky.

Asami had made a point of switching off her inhibitions the second she'd whispered Korra's name. Whatever it was that kept her in this house alone for two weeks and not running to her best friend the first chance she got, evaporated with her kiss, her fingers, her sounds, her weight pressed firmly between her hips. Everything about this was so visceral and heightened post fight, they attacked this with the same intensity, only with more simpering, biting and passionate kisses. Hearing Korra's breath's against her skin sent a surge of wetness pooling over the fingers pumping insistently between her legs.

The heiress had so little control over the course of her life, she adored fighting so much because she could claw it back. Namely Korra's back, slick with sweat she wanted to lick, putting her leg over her to encourage her wordlessly. Korra followed her cue, rearing back, biting her lip, taking her tongue in her mouth, feeding her knee behind her hand for Asami to grind against.

I love you, she tamped it down before the words slipped past her lips. This wasn't the control she wanted, this wasn't what sex with Korra should become, not yet, not here. Before she could dwell on the thought she was spasming beneath her like a shaking arching animal.

With a gasp sharp to the point of heartbreak, she thwacked her head into the mat, eyes rolling, body wracking with intense pleasure. Neck open to Korra's lips, pressing controlled soothing kisses on her way down, hissing as a second and third orgasms poured out of her.

In a move not dissimilar to their sparring, Asami tugged her, so her own hand could reach between Korra's legs, fingers sliding under sodden material to work her up. Korra's knees spread, deepening the pin, and in turn Asami's sinking inside her, flexing and stroking the silken ridges and walls between the folds.

Elbows braced on the mat, glistening fingers prone, Korra took her in, body thrumming, brows drawn together, mouth agape, eyes closed. Silent say for the obscene noises Asami's fingers were making with the canter of her hips. The acute need for tenderness broke Asami, her free hand cupped her cheek, her thumb stroking there until Korra opened her eyes to look at her.

I love you, she thought it, stinging her weak and stupid heart, an organ that had been encapsulated in darkness until now, her best friend had punctured a hole in it's hardened shell, and it was blinking in the new light, ignorant and hopeful, but still she willed her to hear it in such a way that she would accept.

Asami couldn't help the immense adoring gaze and watched her blue eyes flutter shut, unable to take it. Korra turned her face into her palm as the sensations gripped her. Even in the throes, Korra refused to give up discipline, Korra who lived and built a life on her own terms, made love on them too. Lips feverish beneath her fingertips, Asami was surprised to feel her mouth open and take in her middle and ring finger, suckling them with a dangerous gleam in her eye. Iroh's ring bumping her cupids bow.

Asami pulled them free if only to kiss her in apology, for the mistakes, the wasted years, for not seeing the truth. When Korra pried away, Asami's chased her, only Korra's gaze caught her again, foreheads pressed, the intimacy of their pose calmed her.

Asami watched her expressions change with the slow hard thrust of her hips, reacting to Asami's thumb circling her swollen clit as her walls clenching around her curling digits. Her wrist ached, but nothing in the world would get her to stop as she worshipped the drop of her open mouth, those expressive brows drawn in made her heart swell as Asami pressed and pressed and pressed that spot.

Asami often forgot that at a certain angle Korra's iris' captured light, and beneath her she could see them glow as they fluttered in ecstasy. Neither had a free hand to wipe away the tears that were falling down Asami's temple as she stared into the eclipse burning above her.

Korra was letting go.

Her arms lost their prop and she bowed her head finally, her ragged breath fracturing into Asami's ear like a thousand secrets.

Asami took her weight as she relaxed into her, sliding her hand out of her leggings if only to coil her arms tightly around Korra's ribs as they settled in the afterglow.

"We shouldn't have done that," Korra whispered into her ear. Asami turned her eyes into the crook of her neck and closing them there, holding her against her in solemn vigil. Refusing to feel ashamed.

"It's a little late for remorse Kay," Asami breathed back wryly, fingers tracing the dip and curve of her spine. Korra hummed in response, and Asami loathed how much she loved the reverberating sensation.

"What are we-?" Korra pulled back to begin to panic, only Asami stopped her in her tracks. Tilting her chin to capture her mouth in a firm tender kiss.

"Don't think about it," Asami echoed, stroking strands of hair away from her face that had been twisted free moments earlier. She was desperate not to think, to live in this moment she'd stolen.

"All I've done is think about this," Korra told her matter of factly, still as cold as she sounded, her lips danced over Asami's temple, breathing her in. Pressing curious kisses there, tasting salty tears on her tongue.

Korra extricated from her slowly, sitting back on her knees, running her fingers over her face, exasperated, weak and conflicted.

"You know what I'm afraid of the most?" she stared at the space above her head, finding it impossible to tell her while meeting her gaze, "that I become okay with this, being your mistress…just to keep you…I don't think I'll ever be strong enough to leave."

A single tear fell, and Korra caught it before Asami could even move.

"Korra…you are so strong," Asami struggled against her closing throat, "and brave…you're the best person I know,"

"We had a plan," Korra lamented.

"Plans change,"

"So what? We keep stealing moments for the rest of your marriage until it ends? Tomorrow? In a year? In twenty when you've got the life you wanted from him, kids running around and me and you are just fucking in the shadows when no ones looking?"

Asami stood, stung, arms crossed low over her belly.

"I know what I want when I'm with you."

"And when you aren't?"

"I want it then too,"

"And when you're with him?"

Asami knew there was no answer Korra would accept, specifically because Iroh had not come home yet. Due diligence had not been had, but it made Asami's skin crawl at the idea of it. She thumbed the ring on her finger, still wet from Korra's mouth, and paced away.

"We'll see won't we," she muttered. It wasn't until she reached the kitchen, and smelled the pot roast that she remembered, I fucked my mistress on my husband's birthday.

"I'm going to hell," she whispered to herself, unable to pull the horrified expression from her own eyes as she stared at the slow cooker on the hob. That expression became cemented as she watched Korra wash her hands, take a knife and begin peeling and parring vegetables she'd left out at a frightening speed.

"What are you doing?" Asami asked when she'd found her voice.

"You're not exactly good at this you know," Korra gestured at the half destroyed counters with the biggest knife Asami owned, but had never used.

This was the first Korra, best friend Korra, opening the pot and recoiling at the insides, yanking the hob off.

"Is it burnt?" Asami asked, covering her smile with her hand. Watching Korra in the kitchen had always given her a warm feeling in her gut. She'd never questioned it, but looking back, she knew now that was attraction. Seeing Korra in a domestic situation as of late; had the unfortunate effect of making her wet.

"It's done," Korra warned, "Carve away the black bits and you're golden,"

"Why are you helping me?"

Korra looked up at her then, gaze a wounded, but open.

"I've always felt like this. Wanting you. Not having you. Wanting to help you be okay…in other words, I'm a fool, but only for you," that wretched half smile was back, and Asami felt the pit in her stomach. "It killed me to leave you here," Korra kept her eyes closed as she confessed. "To put you through this for me,"

"I know," Asami whispered.

Stepping into her space, hands over her collar bones, she kissed her soft and sweet, to which Korra could only respond in kind.

"No more of those," she muttered against her lips, "I'll look for some spices to save this mess," she made for the walk in pantry, fully stocked but in the weeks Asami had lived here, never touched.

She was curious, and watched Korra as one witnesses performance art, waiting for Korra to break under the intense weight. I'm helping you make dinner for your husband because I want to continue sleeping with you.

"Hey Hon," She slammed the pantry door shut, trapping Korra inside.

Iroh was descending the stairs. Towelling his head, dressed in his relaxing sweats. In his hand he clutched Mako's iconic red scarf.

"Iroh!" She turned, and he pressed himself into her space quite unexpectedly, giving her a one armed hug before leaning against the kitchen counter, "You're back,"

"I am," His smile was stiff, and Asami inspected him, he wasn't quite right, but his body language didn't exactly marry with the idea that he had seen, heard or suspected her of what she had actually been doing. Still something was decidedly off. "Mom's recipe," he exclaimed, lifting the lid of the pot, trying not to wince. "Needs something…Oregano, Garlic maybe,"

Asami tried to keep the terror from her face as she tugged open the pantry door, Korra braced on the floor, holding the right spices up for her to take. When Asami took them she cupped her wrist with her hands, blue eyes gazing up at her pleadingly.

Be safe, she mouthed. Asami could only give a slight nod hidden by the door, biting her lip, desperate not to blab her final goodbyes.

She opened the pot and sprinkled, brain melting, fist curled against the counter.

"How have you been?" she stalled for time, for any stroke of genius to save the three of them from the whirlpool they'd been dragged into, and the subsequent garburator hidden beneath, "How was work?"

"It was fine, great actually, successful mission. Promotion underway, they're actually hosting a General's Ball in my honour,"

"That's great!" her smile didn't reach her eyes. She turned back to her mission of a meal to hide it.

She flinched when she felt him press up behind her, nosing the nape of her neck, his hand bracing her ribs.

"You smell good," he muttered, inhaling, "Sweet,"

It was Korra's sweetness, how she tasted when sated. Under his nose Asami felt cornered, the evidence still slake over her skin.

"I found this in our bedroom,"

Iroh stood beside her now, sensing her tension, unfurling the scarf beside her.

"Mako must've left it," she barely gazed at it as she chucked Korra's vegetables in a pot of water and switched on the hob.

"Dammit Asami," Iroh smacked the countertop and she jumped.

"He came to see the work Korra was doing on the bathroom, all my friends were here, we had a group workout," She gestured to her clothes, and he blinked.

Catching the pantry door open just a crack in the corner of her eye, she had to hold her own just enough so that Korra wouldn't reveal herself.

"You've been different," he snipped, determined to pick at the imperfection until it bled.

"You've been back for forty seconds and what? Look at what I'm doing here," she felt like a rotten liar, but she'd also never seen him so immediately unhinged. Theirs was a placid relationship, easy, no real fights to speak of. This was new, and utterly terrifying. "You think I'm sleeping with my ex of over a decade, over a scarf? He's my friend Iroh you know this,"

"Hey, like father like daughter right?" he seethed, "You said this place is making you crazy. Icing me out, moping around like the girl from the Ring-"

"My father died." that took the wind out of his sails. He stepped away, hands posed in a confused, semi-peaceful gesture.

"When?" he breathed.

"A month ago…I found out when I called the prison."

"You didn't tell me,"

"I tried…my friends have been here but, God, Iroh, pick your moments," her eyes darted to the door that hid Korra for that split second, she prayed he wouldn't notice.

"I'm sorry I just - We move in here and everything is different, I mean you didn't tell me your father died? You knew I was coming home and you thought you'd save it, you get help from your high school friends instead of your husband?"

"They knew me when he was alive you sociopath, the shit he put me through, how it ruined me!"

"You wanna talk sociopath? You fuck me in the middle of the night and then you can't stand to have me touch you, you wouldn't even look me in the eye when I was inside you, and it's been driving me nuts, and I come home last night and you're what? Pretending to sleep?"

"Believe it or not being your wife doesn't entitle you to my body every time you want it,"

Asami couldn't anticipate the snatch, but he had her wrist tight in his grip before she could wrench away. Iroh wasn't like this. As much as it hurt it froze her, staring into his burning gaze and feeling that familiar bubble of shame welt in her gut.

"Being my wife entitles me to the truth," his sneer faded, voice turning low, dropping an octave, eyes black with unbridled rage she'd heretofore never seen from the man she married, "I swear to God if you're betraying me like I think you are, I will end your little gaggle of friends,"

Asami stared without seeing. Very much lost in a memory that returned to her then.

"Is this true Asami?" her father pressed, "how you feel about your friend?"

She had been speechless then, the principle of her prep school perched on the edge of her father's desk, her father kneeled in front of her chair.

She'd missed Korra, her school, along with Mako and Bolin's, was in another district, and her father had paid for his little heir to attend one of the best in Republic City alone. It was only natural that she'd daydream about her friends. That she'd miss the way Korra had held her hand on their trip to the Banyan Grove tree, and wonder when they could be together for such a fun time again. Her teacher had caught her sketching however, 'Korra and Asami' in the most damning of doodles; a heart.

"Speak girl," Principle Amon gripped her wrist tight and she flinched and fought, tears pouring down her cheeks. She was so strait-laced back then, even in pain, even with all her training, she couldn't raise a hand to an authority figure.

Desperate to be free she uttered weakly.

"I don't know!" she whined. Afraid to admit it to herself, more afraid to admit it to these men, who could keep her best friend away if they knew. She loved Korra as much as any thirteen year old girl could.

"Asami, tell the truth - do you love her?"

"Of course I do she's my friend - please stop you're hurting me,"

"She is not your friend," Amon spoke, dark blue eyes hypnotic and empty, "She is immoral, and wrong, and you should never see her again,"

"No dad please, I won't- I won't hold her hand again, I won't think about her, please-" she remembered her begging breaking down into sobs, until the hand on her wrist released. The two men staring at the woman whom had burst into her father's office.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Yasuko had screamed as loud as her frail, pallid frame would allow.

"Asami!" Iroh shook her and she reacted instinctively, jamming her palm into his chest until he fell back on his ass.

A clattering reverberated through the room then, a matt and black shape fell from the back of Iroh's pants and he scrambled to retrieve and hide it.

"A gun?" she seethed, "You brought a gun into my house?"

"Asami I'm-"

"No," she cut him off, running her thumb over the bruise forming on her wrist, "You were going to shoot my lover all over this nice dinner?" she cackled, feeling just as mad as she sounded, "get out,"

"Sami-"

"Out!" she yelled.

Iroh rose slowly, and as she watched and he stepped, she paced to match, keeping the distance.

"Okay…I'm sorry," he told her, wrenching himself back to a calm and collected place, "I'm going to cool off elsewhere, I hope when I return we…we can have a rational discussion."

She feigned fury, body tight with fear, subconsciously blocking him from the pantry as he backed out the front door. She listened hard for the sound of his car pulling out the driveway and the screech of tyres as he tore out of there as fast as his toxic masculinity would take him.

It was then and only then did she feel Korra's fingers interlock with her own. She could barely hear her speaking, but her palm pressed against her throat had her turning into her embrace.

"I was so scared," she whimpered, "You were right behind that door and he-" she couldn't breathe for sobbing, not until Korra's hand ran warm grounding circles in the twisted muscles of her aching spine. When her eyes closed she could only imagine what he'd do if he found her, trapped in the closet, the perfect target.

"What do you need?" Korra crooned, "Sweetie, what do you need from me?"

"Just hold me," she managed, pounding heart skipping at the pet name.

Her arms were vices around her shoulders as she gasped for the breaths she'd been holding in. Korra held her steady through it all, even as she tucked her nose under her jaw, inhaling that soothing sweet scent. Adrenaline coursed through them both, and Korra's whole body reacted to the peak of a tongue swiping there. She gripped her elbows but didn't pull away, Asami's teeth followed, nipping, biting softly.

Delirious with terror, Asami found herself suckling, savouring her flavour and clinging tight to her one safe anchor in this world.

"Asami," she breathed.

"Korra," Asami lifted her lips parrallell, pupils blown, bracing her palm over Korra's pounding heart, guiding Korra's hand by her wrist over her own.

Korra felt like she had fallen into one of her fantasies, sticky, scandalous, and hot, this should not be happening, but it was, and she wanted it all so bad. She wanted Asami nosing her cheek, warm sweet breath pluming over her lips, wandering hands sliding over her shirt to stroke her nipple through the fabric.

"Touch me," a gentle request, but Asami stepped back in a moment of pure deja vu, hard cold metal of the fridge braced behind her back. Her trembling fingers cupped Korra's jaw as she guided her. The Korra that was with her now was the second Korra, capturing her lips in response, a victor, intoxicated, a champion without consequences. Lifting her legs and bracing her against her hips. Asami had the wherewithal to strip her shirt and let it fly, arms crossing behind Korra's neck as she bit her lower lip, and fed her her tongue in a soulful kiss. Korra's hand found entry via the leg of her shorts, tangling with panties and fabric, fingers sliding through her lower lips, parting her, teasing her hard nub between two fingers, before slipping inside molten slick pulsing walls. Asami cupped Korra's jaw with both hands, kissing, gasping, biting her lip, whining as she pulled her apart mid air.

"Ah!" the ice dispenser shot cubes at her back, and Korra reacted unfazed, setting her partner on the counter with the rose gold furnishings and peeling down her shorts, planting languishing lazy kisses from her ankle to her inner thigh, before standing between legs she nudged farther apart herself, until toes balanced on the edge and Asami's swollen centre pulsed and twitched in anticipation.

She simpered as her steady hands tugged her bra over head, allowing Korra to lap her tongue over the stiff pebbled tip, her mouth latching as her nails drew patterns on the soft expanse of her quivering thigh. Asami guided her other palm to her breast and together they squeezed and her neck fell back noiselessly, mouth open.

"Fuck me," she whimpered carding fingers through her hair encouragingly, "I want you inside." she tugged her back up to kiss her deep and wild. The controlled entanglement they'd shared earlier eclipsed by something chaotic, needy and exhilarating.

From her lips Korra mouthed her path down, carelessly nipping at the skin, palming her breast, suckling her nipple, leaving wet kisses in the path of her navel. Using her grip on her thighs she tugged her forward and angled her knees over her shoulders once again. From between her legs she looked up at what had become a familiar sight; Asami's hooded jade eyes gazing down at her, her long fingers combing through her hair waiting for her lips to kiss her glistening core.

Korra had just enough of a mind to draw it out, to explore her folds with her tongue, to push past the rim as far as she could inside her until Asami jerked and writhed, coaxing her with her body. She knew from the quiet moan above her that she was biting her lip, and decided it was time to give her what she wanted, three probing fingers burrowing inside, curling, stretching her.

Asami quaked as she rode Korra's mouth, her skilled tongue drawing full body shudders, as she braced herself on the kitchen counter. She could count on her fingers how many thrusts she had left before it all came to a crescendo, but she wanted to draw it out, to live in this debauched and hedonistic moment until the universe folded in on itself.

Tears littered her cheeks, Korra's fingers on her thigh laced with hers now, just knowing where she wanted her to be. I love you. She wanted to scream it so badly it hurt. Biting her lip to hold it in, lurching as pleasure rattled through her very bones.

She knew she was selfish, cruel even, but on a deeper level she knew she'd made a choice, and she knew it was time to be reckless about getting it.

Blowing up her life seemed to be a good start.

Iroh kept three cars between his, and Mako's sedan.

Republic City's street lights painted streaks over his car as he crawled under them.

Mako parked, losing his jacket, checking his brows in the mirror, before heading inside the dark dingy bar with nothing but an OPEN sign boasting a fluorescent martini glass tippling over and over to indicate it was anything but.

Iroh waited, watching to see if he'd emerge soon, after ten, he turned off his own engine and headed inside.

From the look of the outside, no-one would guess the place would be packed, wall to wall patrons huddled about the edges talking animatedly, heat thick in the air, dancers pressed so close that grinding was pretty much their only option.

He ignored the hey handsome 's, from the voices in the dark and blue, and saw his target, cutting a sharp, tall silhouette over by the bar. He could see why Asami had chosen him all those years ago, Mako had been handsome then, and now, and the height wouldn't have been an issue. He mulled over the reasons why as he pressed on the pistol holstered at his back, still secure, still ready.

He watched him for a time, take his drink and turn to the crowd, clearly off duty, golden eyes glinting in the dark searching for someone. Iroh guessed from the smug turn of his lips, it wouldn't be hard. The idea made his blood boil. His feet started moving before he knew it, and a clumsy dancer knocked him into Mako's view.

The Cop's face dropped.

"What are you doing here?" he yelled over the din, worry lacing his look.

Iroh's face twisted.

"I came to talk to you," he pointed shoving through strangers, watching Mako watch him curiously, obviously sweating. He grabbed a fistful of his shirt and spat, "You like fucking other people's wives!"

There wasn't space to swing a punch, not that it stopped him from trying. Mako dodged and pulled him round, the other patrons getting the wherewithal to give them space, all eyes turning to them as they gladly took in this spectacle.

"What are you talking about?" Mako shouted, "Are you out of your mind?"

Iroh threw his scarf at him, hitting him square in the chest. Mako caught it and stared.

"I'm not sleeping with Asami!"

"Hell you are!" Iroh seethed incredulously, reaching back.

"Iroh look around," Mako didn't seem afraid like a guilty man would, and it gave the General pause, "What do you notice about this bar?"

Iroh's brain worked overtime, clocking the walls, the DJ, the drinks, the lights.

"There's no…fire exits?"

Mako pointed to the portrait behind the bar, a graffiti print of two men in crowns, kissing in a deep embrace.

Every patron was a man.

"You're gay."

Korra gave a lopsided smile, cheek resting against the inside of Asami's thigh. It was only when enough oxygen returned to her brain she got a hold of herself. Her visage became pensive, and watching it Asami tapped her chin with her finger to get her to look up at her.

She was breathless at the sight of her, from her vantage point her body, her abs, her breasts, her collar bones, her throat; peaks and valleys of a goddess she'd just conquered. Her jade eyes lidded with satisfaction, kindness and just a hint of bittersweet guilt.

"There'll come a day when you look up at me and smile," Asami told her, voice gentle, husky and soft, "and breathe…and it'll be so easy I promise you,"

Korra's eyes dropped the the purpling bruise on her best friends wrist, dark sausage fingers remaining on her fair skin. She pulled the hand up and turned the soft part of her wrist so her lips could soothe the mark, before standing straight.

"Run away with me," Korra never thought she'd be brave enough to ask, but the second Korra was ruling now, the first and third cheering her on. "Get your clothes, your passport, we'll drive, we'll go wherever you want,"

Asami froze, this was the closest Korra had come to laying her heart before her, honestly, without prompting. It was everything Asami should want, the easiest way out, but she hesitated.

"You were right," she whispered incredulously, cupping her cheeks, mouth twisting with sadness, "I have to do this right,"

"That was crazy, he was crazy,"

"I know," Asami pressed a furtive kiss to her lips, "You deserve better than an affair Korra. You always have." Gingerly she tugged at her, gently holding her close, strangely calm. Cradling her head to the jut of her shoulder.

"You can't expect me to leave you with him?"

"I'm feeling brave Korra, just like you,"

"'Sami-"

"I have to see this through." Cold buffeted her as Korra stumbled back, shaking her head, throwing her gaze around for a confirmation that this was either a dream or a nightmare; the pot roast, now certainly cold, burnt and ruined, her naked best friend stepping down from the counter, scooping her hair behind her ears as she pulled on clothes.

"I can't watch you do this,"

"This is what you wanted."

"I didn't know what he was,"

"Neither did I," Asami shook her head, standing on wobbly bandy legs. "He threatened all of us, if I turned out to be…it could be our businesses our lives…we…We have to be smart about this."

Their entire relationship, Iroh had never shown a hair of the beast he had been tonight. Asami was blindsided, and afraid, but ultimately curious. If she poked the bear and then ran off, could he follow? He was connected, he was trained, and if not handled right, he could be vengeful. Asami had to throw herself in the path of what ever happened next, simply to stop it from obliterating Korra.

"Smart would be never having an affair at all," Korra scoffed, reeling combing her fingers through her hair.

"You don't mean that," Asami breathed.

"You're staying?"

"I have to,"

Korra blinked, thoroughly, deeply through the fucking looking glass. She could only walk back, numb lips muttering.

"I can't do this."

"I need you to acquire sensitive information about my husband,"

Asami marched into her office that day like she owned the place, which to be fair she did. Opal looked up from her secretaries desk, after swearing to herself up and down that she wouldn't make eye contact with her boss for fear of seeing her face morph into that blissed out sex face she'd had while Korra was plowing her. The callous request made her glare, how could she be so blatant?

She followed Asami into her inner sanctum. She hadn't paused to notice the fury emanating from one of her oldest friends.

"It'll need to be off books, discreet, and traceless," Asami thumbed the memos on her desk, long neglected since her honeymoon. Her new husband, volcanic eruption, inherited haunted house, father's death and illicit affair had taken up the lions share of her time.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Opal snapped, that got her attention. Asami turned her face up at her, utterly mystified at Opal's outburst. "You want me to dig dirt up on Iroh so you can justify, this- you…" her confidence wavered.

"What?"

"Fucking Korra!"

Asami's eyes widened, making for the door behind her and slamming it shut.

"I mean God Asami, I know you've been going through a lot but playing her because you lost your father is just - it's so cold, and she cares about you so much. You don't even know how much she was hurting over you,"

"I do," Asami splayed her hands on the door, eyes stinging with tears. The quiver in her voice surprising Opal, who paused her tirade to listen to the one scenario she hadn't glorified, "I was so cold for so long and she…she didn't tell me," she hugged herself and turned an inch, "I felt this way the whole time but I…I didn't know what it was…I just did what I was supposed to,"

Finally Opal could see her, Asami Sato - titan of industry, tears weeping down her cheeks, red and jade eyes glassy.

"I've loved her since I was thirteen, it took me fifteen years to figure it out."

"Oh," Opal whispered, "Oh honey," the shorter girl embraced her, but Asami remained stiff. She'd done everything in her power to remain strong that morning, the General's ball the last bastion of her relationship with Iroh she was sure of it. Partway doing him a favour, mostly deciding it could placate and distract him while she strategised her escape.

"I'm in love with her," she confessed for the first time.

"I don't want to talk," Asami told Iroh, descending the stairs, keeping a safe distance. She shouldered her long overcoat, that eerily matched his, over her red dress.

She'd dressed tastefully, necklace a collar of gold and pearls that covered the expanse of her throat, and the bites Korra had accidentally left her there. Everything she'd worn was designed to distract, hair in an exquisite up do, long gold cuffs overing her forearms and the bruise Iroh had left there, earrings a matching metal, fringed and dangling; totally unique.

They sat in opposite sides of the limo, Iroh bristling, searching his mind for any way to apologise.

"What's going to happen now?" he asked, and she dared to glance his way.

"Let's just get through tonight." her face winced, an attempt at a smile, gone awry.

Thankfully the venue was close, the flashes of paparazzi already blinding through the window. A General's Ball in Republic City was a political event, and a political event in Republic City was glamorous, and a veritable who's who of, to Asami, who cares?

Asami tensed when she sensed his hand hovering at the small of her back. He turned to pose for photos, but she barely paid them any mind.

"Iroh my boy!" a loud voice boomed when they entered, a portly man a glitter with what seemed like a cape of medals beckoned him. The General knew when to turn it on, and leading them to their tables without checking their coats, Asami let her eyes skate over the blinding pomp and circumstance. She draped her jacket over her chair, matching Iroh's beside it.

She caught sight of the ice swan on the far table, and the teenager spraying it to keep it cool. She recognised that undercut in a heartbeat.

Kai flinched when he turned and she was in front of her.

"Sorry," she twisted her fingers anxiously, unsure of how to approach what she was sure something he didn't know.

"She's fine," he told her earnestly, "By that I mean no injuries and she's not drinking,"

"What is she doing?"

"Smashing,"

"Oh,"

"She misses you,"

"Oh?"

"She won't say it, but you know she gets this Asami look,"

"Oh,"

Sweet Kai, he knows not what he sees, she thought.

"I'll check on her soon I promise."

He flashed her a smile and she felt weak. She didn't deserve it, not after all she'd done.

She made for the table, ready to zone out and will the night away. It wasn't until she sat on her chair that she remembered she'd wiled away Korra's cigarettes, and her heart skipped at the memory of them. Korra's lips, pluming smoke, like she was kissing the air on the night of her wedding. The beginning of the end.

She turned to the coat at her back and fed her finger in the inside pocket, searching for that crumpling noise that had been at her back. Her hand fastened around an unexpected shape, paper, a letter, the penmanship deep ingrained into the page. Iroh's penmanship.

Dear Asami,

If you're reading this, I did the unthinkable. I have left you.

I'm sorry that it had to be this way. I felt this the second we were engaged and when I did I prayed for it to be jitters. But the date came closer and I felt the world sliding past my feet.

They say you fight more when you get engaged, that the stress of the wedding turns you both in to monsters fretting over every tiny decision, but strangely I let it all wash over me, and it was because this wasn't anything I cared about. Not the color scheme, what we should serve, the toast to our futures - none of it. I sat down to write my vows and, well, I wrote this, the night before. I should have been thinking about this before we were even engaged.

I'm looking at the way we lived, the roles we took on outwardly, all the while taking separate shifts in the same bed. Everything we built in that apartment, I was putting the bars up on my own prison.

The time we did spend together was this or performing the art of monogamy in front of your business partners or friends. Hell, for everything I missed, Korra was ready to pick up the slack, and I was fine with that, but often I found myself wondering if I was even your friend much less a lover. I did the dishes, held your hand, binged shows on the idiot box. The only time we connected was during sex.

I'm writing this at your desk, and I checked you have more pictures of Korra here than me, considering all she's done for you it's not that surprising. I guess it just goes to show you what you really care about, and I'm thinking what I'm feeling here is pretty mutual.

I will always cherish the time I spent with you, and its difficult to say why I know it should be over when you're as perfect as you are. It only got so far because we were going through the motions, never checking to see if the person we had chosen was right for us.

I did that check today, finally, and I realised - You are not the centre of my world.

You deserve better.

Goodbye,

Iroh

Her whole body was shaking, reading this, she wasn't upset, she was angry.

This whole time he knew, and yet he married her; it was never about love. She remembered the flash, the reporters desperate for that perfect photo of the perfect couple. The portrait. It's what she had wanted, it's what he wanted, no longer.

She worked the ring from her finger, golden and diamonds and utterly perfect-looking, before folding it into his letter. Pushing it back into his coat pocket.

This was her smoking gun, she knew. The race had started. She picked up her coat and made for the exit.

She had somewhere else to be.

Song 2 - Criminal - Fiona Apple

Excerpt from the Honeymooners Chapter 18 - AKA the whole reason I wrote this fic

"You would've cheated on your husband?" Korra scoffed sceptically, but Asami answered without a beat.

"Yes."

Korra opened her eyes finally, and Asami could see the cogs shifting in her mind, processing it all.

"You said it yourself, he wasn't right for me. It might've taken a month, a year, maybe more but it would have fallen apart. It was only a matter of time before I started to see you like I see you now. It only took a second of you catching me to get it."

"You think while you were crying and broken you were in any state to choose who you want to be with?"

"You were there. He wasn't." Asami stressed, "I would have been miserable, I would have made the worst mistake of my life and I would have come running to you. Maybe I would've felt trapped, I would have designed and redesigned that kitchen and spent my evenings pensively holding a wineglass like a desperate fucking housewife, but sooner or later, after you'd held me weeping, after I figured how good it felt to press my face into your neck, and fall asleep in your arms…how right it felt… I would've needed those moments, and stolen them as much as I could. I would have wanted you to kiss me… I would have asked you to fuck me against the marble counter tops with rose gold furnishings or absolutely rail me against the smart touch screen fridge while his pot roast goes cold on the stove."

PSA - 'pensively holding a wineglass like a desperate fucking housewife' is my favourite line