Warning: mild smut

Finally, they touched down in Southern California. Kya honked to greet Los Angeles and played the beach boys tape for the umpteenth time.

They rode west on highway 10 and eventually found themselves cruising 101 north, ogling the mile-high skinny palm trees forming a long corridor along the road. The trees angled westward toward the Ocean and were punctuated by tall, swaying cypress with the city and mountainscape as a panoramic backdrop.

The sky was bright and haloed with smog, and heavy traffic had them thinking the 101 was one long parking lot.

"We made it!" Bolin exclaimed and Pabu chirruped atop his shoulder. They leaned out the passenger window, and Bolin inhaled a big breath of smoggy air before yelling ecstatically: "Hellooo Los Angeles! Hollywood, I'm comin' for ya!"

A couple of cars honked; one group of girls in a top-down convertible sang "Wooo-hooo" in chorus as they rode by. He wasn't sure if the gals were wooing at him or just generally excited by SoCal life. But then one of them turned around and blew Bolin a kiss before giggling and taking off the next exit. He blushed, putting his hand to his cheek, and returned to his regular seated position.

"I've got my eye on you, Kiddo," said Lin. She was leaning against a pillow in the back. Bolin turned around, and she pointed two fingers toward her eyes before motioning them in his direction.

Bolin smiled nervously.

"What's the address again?" Kya changed the subject.

"To get to Mako's, the map says to take the 101 North to the 170 North for a few miles and get off on Roscoe. And then bam – hellooo Hollywood!"

"Really? Because that seems pretty far," said Kya.

Bolin nodded. "Yes! I mean no. I mean I have no idea."

Kya took the map and spread it out across her steering wheel as she drove, a skill she had acquired over many years of road-tripping. "Bolin, Mako lives in North Hollywood – that's the Valley!"

"Ohhhh" Bolin said. He scratched his head. "Well I need to get to Sunset Boulevard tomorrow. Is that far? Can I walk there?"

"Only if you wanna walk up hills both ways. We'd drop you off and then you'd probably have to get going pretty quickly after that – it's a long walk," Kya said.

"Somebody seems to know a lot about this place," Lin noticed out loud.

"I spent a few years out here when I was younger, mainly in West Hollywood – where the gays live. I also spent some time down in San Diego - Hillcrest, also where the gays live. So I guess you could say I know a lil', sweetie."

I love it when you casually call me sweetie, Lin wanted to say but instead smiled discreetly to herself. Only you, Kya, can call me that. "That's lovely, dear. Is this where you picked up your reefer smoking habit?"

"First of all," said Kya, "No one's called it reefer since Nixon was president. Secondly, it's not a habit. Last time I picked up, my pot lasted me six months. Anyway, it can certainly be a lifestyle."

Lin folded arms. " And I'm used to another type of lifestyle. Anyway, I didn't mean to call it a habit. I'm just trying to understand."

"Imagine that – cops trying to understand the people they serve and protect."

Lin chuckled. "Fair enough."

They pulled up to a large, decrepit house with an unkempt yard full of dead foliage, a withering Jacaranda tree at the center.

"This is Mako's?" Kya said.

"Yup – that's the address right here." Bolin double-checked the map and compared it to the number on the sidewalk. "Three blocks past the strip club and auto repair shop."

"At least there's space," Lin said in a feeble attempt to sound optimistic.

"North Hollywood is an up-and-coming arts district. Mako must have seen the potential and got a head start," Kya rationalized.

"Wellll, I guess this is goodbye, ladies," Bolin said.

The realization hit all of them that they were saying goodbye. For real.

"It is, isn't it?" Kya inhaled deeply, wrestling back tears. "Well you've certainly been a bright energy on this trip. Thank you for the company. Don't be a stranger, OK?"

"Hey ya, Kid. You're a swell guy. I wish you break a leg, a sweat, anything but the bank," said Lin. When Bolin and Kya looked back at her, they noticed her eyes were wet. "I'm not crying, it's just allergies from the damn windy Santa Anas," Lin said defensively.

"Awe, you guys." Bolin was on the verge of ugly crying, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes until he couldn't hold it in any longer and reeled the women in for a long, sloppy hug. "I'll never forget youuuu," he sobbed. Pabu joined in on the group hug.

Finally, when the tears were all dried up, Bolin slung his rucksack over his shoulder and sauntered off to the house.

Kya and Lin looked on as Bolin entered the front gate, though their view was obscured by rampantly unkempt bougainvillea, a flowering vine seemingly immune to desert climate.

"You think he'll be OK?" Kya said.

Climbing back into the passenger seat, Lin buckled up and placed a reassuring hand on Kya's face: "He'll figure it out. Plus, I gave him my pager number in case of emergencies."

Kya moved her hand to meet Lin's and they rested their gazes upon one another a minute before driving off.

Meantime, Bolin noticed two people dressed in black standing at attention on the front porch and approached them blithely.

"Helloooo there, I'm Bolin. Here to see Mako. I'm… hello? Hello?" He waved a hand in front of one then the other person, who kept their gazes straightforward.

Bolin's head stayed empty for the most part, so he didn't think much more of it except for maybe they were having a contest of who could stay silent the longest. Curiously assessing the situation, he posted up on the porch and munched on an apple from his rucksack.

A minute later the front door swung open and a sleep-deprived looking wiry man in a long bathrobe came out. Bolin had to do a double-take before he realized the man was Mako.

"Mako, my brother! I've missed you so much." Bolin went over to hug his big bro but missed when Mako dodged and addressed the two standing at attention: "Get the hell outta here, you brutes. What're you doing on my property? You," he said, pointing to the one of the left, "are too tall." He pointed to the right, "And you – you're too goofy looking!"

"What the heck is going on here?" Bolin was utterly confused by this display.

"And you!" Mako turned to address Bolin. "Come with me."

Hesitantly, Bolin gathered his belongings and followed Mako into the large modern Victorian-style house of aging wood, all the paint stripped from years of bleaching sunlight.

The others on the porch broke their attention and groaned in protest, but Mako turned around and they straightened back up.

The brothers entered and Mako closed the door behind him. The house was dimly lit and smelled of decay. But Bolin could still see Mako's visage – he had a swollen black eye, black bag under the other, and was generally all banged up. But the thing that made Bolin worry was the errant glow in his brother's ruddy irises, as if somebody else inhabited his body altogether.

"Mako, you don't look so good," Bolin said.

"Never felt better in my life," Mako replied as-a-matter-of-factly. Then he did a thing that startled Bolin. He grabbed a broom resting against the foyer closet and walked out the front door. "Get the fuck off my porch," he said, sweeping at the folks' feet and smacking them with the broom. But the two at attention wouldn't budge.

A minute later, Mako returned and shut the door. He replaced the broom and was cheerfully whistling. "Don't worry, it's a test. Anyway, let me show you around."

Bolin gulped.

Kyalin had no particular immediate plan, except to rest. They checked into a fifty-year-old boutique hotel back in Los Angeles proper. The place was built for class and modeled as a type of bed and breakfast.

They had been more or less roughing it in the van and wanted to luxuriate in having reached the end of the continent. They weren't twenty-year-old backpackers staying in hostels. They were grown women who liked finer things from time to time.

"All that traveling was great but I'm old; my back hurts; I need a bed," said Lin, after she unslung her pack, letting it fall like dead weight.

There were two twin beds in the center of the room. The bellhop hadn't even asked; they merely assumed the ladies were old pals traveling together.

Kya excused herself to the bathroom as soon as they entered and a moment later exclaimed "ahhh!"

"What is it? You OK in there?" Lin was on guard in a flash but then eased up again when she learned Kya's excitement was for the clawfoot bathtub.

"We've got to take a long, hot bath while we're here, sweetie," Kya said as she came out of the bathroom.

She wrapped her arms around Lin, who reciprocated.

"I have a little hypothesis - you call me sweetie ironically because you know I'm a salty dog," said Lin.

"Yeah, but you're sweet to me, so that's what counts."

"Hey, hear that?"

Kya looked around as if she were listening with her eyes. "What? The birds chirping."

"That… and the sounds of distant cars on the road… and silence. It's just you and me alone, together."

"Oh." Kya made eyes at Lin and then they were on the same wavelength.

"Shall we put those beds together?"

"Absolutely."

The women picked one bed each and, having removed the nightstand and lamp from the middle, pushed. They crawled across the beds and met in the middle, slowly kissing as they undressed each other, basking in each intimate moment.

It seemed almost everywhere Lin touched Kya – her torso, her neck, breasts – a pair of soft lips followed. Kya leaned into Lin's kisses, surrendering to the cool shiver of pleasure consuming and traveling the length of her spine, burning in her chest and sacrum.

Once again, the throes of lovemaking consumed them, and they did as lesbians lovers do.

Hours later, Lin and Kya were on their sides facing each other in bed, Lin stroking the back of Kya's arm and Kya snuggling closer, closer, closer to the woman who suddenly appeared in her life an inexplicable magnetic force.

They were spent after a long drive and the climatic releases of sexual tension. The bathtub was looking pretty good, but they were too tired to move. Instead, they lay in their mess of blankets and relaxed into each other's company.

"I think I love you," Lin said, her voice a near whisper.

"You think?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Is love a thought or a feeling?"

Lin considered a moment before kissing the tip of Kya's nose. "It's both. It's me getting a feeling whenever I think of you. It's me thinking of you. And you me. And it's when, in those extraordinarily peaceful moments, I'm not thinking anything at all but am consumed by whatever present moment we find ourselves in. And it's warm and exciting and easy."

Kya was overcome by Lin's hardened vulnerability. Her only response was: "I love you too."

They kissed and lay there with their eyes closed awhile as if submerged in the same dream, drifting in and out of sleep.

At some point, Kya was stroking Lin's face at her scar; the skin there was smooth.

"You never asked me about my scar," Lin said. "I've been waiting for you to."

"How did it happen?"

"Tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine." Lin touched the waxing crescent moon atop Kya's choker. She wore it every day and only took it off to bathe herself.

"How did my necklace happen to me?" Kya teased.

Lin smiled. "You know what I mean."

Kya took a deep breath, considering how to approach the topic. "Well, someone gave it to me. But she's gone now."

"Someone? Like a woman?"

Kya nodded. "It's a betrothal necklace."

Lin was unprepared for this news; she recoiled and turned to lie on her back, trying not to let her mind run in circles so she could listen openly Kya. She collected herself. "And when you say gone, you mean –"

"Dead."

Lin's stomach dropped and she turned to face Kya again, whose eyes were watering. She could hardly bear to witness the pain of Kya's sobering confession.

"Honey, I…"

"Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago. She was from my tribe – we grew up together, and she was my first love. But she died too young."

Lin felt the sting of the thought of Kya being in love with someone else, but more than anything, she was overcome with sadness for Kya's loss.

"I'm sorry, darling."

"Don't be. I've lived a full life, and I brought her with me. She would have wanted me to be happy, to find love, a soul mate – if you believe in that stuff. Because I do. I think we can have multiple soul mates fulfilling different purposes in our lives. Anyway, that's what me wearing the necklace represents to this day."

"I don't know what I believe. I'd like to say I'm a skeptic but you've got me asking different kindsa questions. And… it's silly but my family has sort of a mystical connection to the earth. I've just separated myself from them in my adult life, but now I'm wondering if I made the right decision," Lin brooded.

"Oh? Do you want to talk about it?"

"I never wanna talk about it; but I want you to know. Now that I've met Opal, I suddenly yearn for family. I may have had mostly bad things to say about them… doesn't change the fact that I miss 'em. Anyway, it's how I got my scar."

Kya placed her hand on Lin's left cheek. "I hope your mom didn't –"

"NO! I mean, no way. She was a lot of things and a great woman… but she would never. It was my younger sister. And it was, for the most part, an accident. And we were kids. Anyway, I doubt if she feels any remorse about it." Lin could feel herself getting worked up, a sign that her emotional scar like the physical one, still lingered.

Kya kissed Lin's forehead. "All in your own time, sweetheart."

Without saying another word, they lay there awhile before drifting off to sleep.

In the pre-dawn hours, Lin's pager went off. She yawned and groggily checked the message. It was from Bolin and read: "911."

A/N: My HC is Mako in this fic resembles an archetypal American character from a famous movie/book. I'll wait until the end of the next chapter to reveal the ref, although it's pretty obvious if you've seen/read it.

Anywho, thanks for hanging out. If you like Korrasami, I'm also writing a new Korrasami romance fic, called The Sailor and the Journalist.

Peace ✌