She lied to herself again, as she usually did on Saturday evenings. She swore she wouldn't come into the office, crossed her heart, scouts honor. Yet, here she was, six o'clock on a Saturday night, glasses slipping down her nose, shoulders hunched over the keyboard, luke-warm cup of coffee in her hand.
Korra skimmed through her grant proposal, tweaking things here and there. She needed it to be perfect. This was like a child, her child, a part of her. She'd literally put sweat, blood, and tears into this. Sweat from the days she'd spent jogging back and forth to the library down the block, retrieving articles for research. Tears from crying in frustration when she'd thought for one horrifying day she'd somehow deleted all her work. Blood from that unfortunate mishap with a box knife when she'd unboxed the book she'd had to special order.
The pressure she put on herself was unfathomable. A lesser person would have crumbled beneath it, but not Korra. No, she didn't crumble, she just didn't sleep, or eat, or socialize much, but she didn't crumble. With an exasperated sigh she flopped back into her chair, and slouched down. Her mind raced with everything, too much for her to process, too much for her to think, to work, she needed it quiet.
There was only one thing that Korra had found to quiet her mind, exercise. She shoved herself out of her chair and stepped into her closet. She exchanged her casual wear for a blue tank top, and running shorts. She slipped into a pair of well-worn tennis shoes. Then placed her glasses on the corner of her desk. The good thing about Saturdays in the office, there wasn't anyone to yell at her for what she was about to do.
She turned her workout playlist up high, and swung her arms, stretching as she walked to her office doorway. She reached up, curled her fingers over the smooth metal lip of the door frame, and lifted her body. She pulled herself up, angling herself so her chin became level with the top of the doorframe before beginning to slowly lower herself back down. One song bled into two, and her skin was damp with sweat. She let go and moved to the middle of her small office, shoving the chairs to the side, and laying flat on the floor.
She had a routine worked out, pull-ups, planks, sit-ups, pushups, and squats. Some days it took a little more for her brain to stop all the clatter, others she could focus by the time she finished a set of sit-ups. Today wasn't that day though, today she was deep into her third circuit. The night was pushing nine o'clock and she was just starting her third set of sit-ups. Her clothes clung to her, sweat sliding down her body in thin rivulets. Her skin was hot and flushed, her hair matted to her forehead, and the back of her neck. Her arms trembled and practically screamed at her as she settled into her pushups, even threatening to give out as she lowered herself for the twentieth time.
That's how Asami found her. She'd bribed the janitor to let her in, had followed the music back to the small office, and then she found herself rooted to the spot. She stood, transfixed, as she watched Korra lower herself to the ground, and then push herself back up. She watched the way those sculpted arms moved, how the skin rippled with the flow of each muscles movement. The whole scene brought back flashes of the night they'd shared, and she found herself pressing her thighs together.
She willed the thoughts away, she'd come here to apologize, nothing more. She owed Korra that. She ran over the words she had to say again. The carefully crafted apology she had written in her head on the drive over here. She knew exactly what she wanted to say, what she needed to say to fix this whole mess. Yet, she found those carefully crafted words disappearing, sinking to the back of her mind as she watched Korra stand, her tongue wetting her suddenly very dry lips.
Korra pushed herself to her feet and grabbed the hem of her tank top, she pulled it up and wiped her face, clearing the sweat from her eyes. She froze as she noticed the figure in her doorway dropping her shirttail as she came to attention. She pressed a button on her phone to silence the music and fumbled for her glasses. "Asami, what are you doing here?"
Asami's gaze flicked away from Korra's stomach, her face going red. She cleared her throat and stepped into the office. "The janitor let me in," she watched a droplet of sweat snake its way down Korra's chest, "I came to, uh, I wanted to," she brought her eyes back up to meet Korra's, "talk."
Korra motioned for Asami to take a seat as she leaned back against her desk. "How did you know I was here?"
Asami slipped into the chair, perched herself on the edge, and sat up straight. "Opal assured me you'd be here."
"Why not make an appointment for Monday?" Korra lifted her shirt tail to wipe at her face again, adjusting her glasses back in place.
Asami willed herself not to look, and prided herself on this display of strength. "I felt it couldn't wait till then." She offered a small smile as Korra nodded for her to continue. "I need to apologize to you, I owe you an apology for the things I said during our meeting."
Korra held up a hand to stop her. "Already forgiven."
"You're kidding?" Asami leaned forward. "I accused you of," she stopped talking as Korra knelt in front of her.
"I know, and it's okay. Asami, this job, I'm not always the most liked. Over the years I've learned not to take what everyone says to heart, so I forgive easily, and quickly." Korra shrugged and stood, offering Asami a lopsided smile.
"Wow." Asami flopped against the back of the chair and laughed. "I had this whole big speech ready to go, and you didn't even let me get started."
"You would have a speech prepared." Korra snorted then stepped into her closet, shoving her discarded clothes into a gym a bag. "Oh, I called one of the companies we typically use for house cleaning," she stepped out, patting at her arms and legs with a towel, "they'll stop by your father's house Monday morning, and a repair man was supposed to be out today to fix the door. Don't worry, it's taken care of."
"Korra, you didn't need to do that. Let me repay you." She fished around for her wallet, stopping when two warm hands settled on hers.
Korra smiled down at her and shook her head. "It's taken care of."
Asami huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "Let me do something to show my gratitude."
Korra opened her mouth to protest, her stomach giving a loud rumble to cut her off. She smiled, and rubbed at the back of her neck. "Buy me dinner?"
"Done." Asami shoved herself to her feet. "Where would you like to go?"
Korra grinned and started out of her office. "I know the perfect place."
"I agree to buy you dinner and you pick a food cart on the corner?" Asami eyed first Korra and then the street cart in front of them.
"Trust me on this, best thing you'll eat, ever." Korra smiled and stepped forward.
The short, potbellied man behind the cart smiled. "My favorite customer! Want your usual Kor?"
"Times two Frank." Korra watched excitedly as he placed thin strips of meat on a tortilla.
Frank glanced up, his eyes flicking from Asami to Korra. "You know there's classier places to take a dame Kor. I thought your mother raised you betta?"
Korra shook her head and smiled. "And here I was, just bragging about your food, doing my civic duty to spread the word about your little setup."
He snorted as he layered the veggies and cheese on top. "Yeah yeah." He ladled sauce over everything and started wrapping it all up in the tortilla. "Say, what's a dame like you see in a broad like her?" Frank gave Asami a considering look as he lowered the wraps into the fryer.
"Frank," Korra rolled her eyes and glanced at Asami. "She's a friend. We're just getting dinner."
He shook his head again and pulled the now golden-brown wraps from the grease. He let the excess grease drip off before taking a seasoning shaker over them. "Whatever you say doll." He smiled and wrapped the food in tinfoil before handing it over.
Asami stepped forward, pulling a twenty from her wallet. "How much?"
Frank waved his hand at her. "Nah, don't worry 'bout it. I'll just charge her double next time."
Asami looked at Korra, who only shrugged in answer. She folded the twenty up and shoved it into the tip jar. "Thank you."
Frank grinned as he fished the money out and shoved it in his pocket. "Hey, I like this one Kor. Bring her 'round more often."
Korra shook her head as she waited for Asami. She handed her order of food over. "So, he doesn't really have a name for this thing, but it is amazing." They walked slowly down the sidewalk as Korra explained. "He marinates the beef, slow roasts it, shaves it. Piles it with onions, peppers, tomatoes, and cheese. Sauce is some family recipe. Then he deep fries the whole thing, melts the cheese, and gives it a nice crunch. It's like a burrito and gyro in one." She took a big bite, smiling as she chewed.
Asami took a small testing bite, wiping at the sauce on the corner of her mouth. The flavor exploded across her tongue, and she hummed in approval. "Okay, better than I was expecting."
"But not the best thing you've tasted?" Korra chewed and watched her from the corner of her eye.
Asami shook her head as she thought. "No, but it's hard to beat authentic Italian, and Chinese. Best street cart food I've ever tasted though." She smirked and nudged Korra's shoulder.
"I don't imagine you've had much of that."
Asami dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. "Just a few places. Hotdog cart in New York, pizza in Chicago, and mystery meat in Taiwan."
"I'm not even going to ask on that last one." Korra shoved a hearty bite into her mouth, finishing her food in record time, and tossed her wrapper into a trash can.
"You always workout in your office?" Asami smiled and took another bite of the food.
Korra hefted the gym bag up on her shoulder. "Only when I'm working, and I can't think." She tilted her head in thought. "So, yeah, always." She offered a smile and they walked a bit in silence. "How's your dad?"
Asami nodded, chewing the last of her food before answering. "Seems to be doing okay, turns out his hip is in better shape than they originally thought. He just has a small hairline fracture, no surgery needed. Doctor said he could go home in a few days, he'll have to take it easy, and take a calcium supplement to help it heal."
"That's great Asami." Korra smiled broadly at her.
"We still have a bit to talk about, he didn't stay awake long this afternoon, but I still have a few days with him." Asami kicked at a rock on the concrete, sending it skipping away from them.
Korra reached out and grabbed her hand, gave it a tight squeeze. "There's always time to work things out with family, and I'll do anything I can to help you and your father." She squeezed Asami's hand one more time, before letting it go.
Asami frowned at the absence of the contact. "I'll remember that, and thank you."
Korra stopped outside an apartment building and fished a card out of her bag. "Here." She held the card out for Asami to see. "This is my office, and work cell." She pointed to two numbers printed on the front before flipping it over, displaying a number scrawled across the back. "This one here is my personal cell."
"You give all your client's daughters your personal number?" Asami cocked an eyebrow and smirked at her.
Korra pushed her glasses back up her nose and shook her head. "Just the ones that buy me dinner."
"Technically I didn't buy dinner. Frank said he'd charge you for that." Asami ducked her head and took a small step forward.
"Okay fine, then I only give it to the one's that walk me home." Korra jerked a thumb over her shoulder to the apartment building. "Thanks for coming by, I'd probably still be in the office if you hadn't."
"My pleasure." Asami said the words quietly, having realized how closely to each other they stood. Her decree from earlier about just coming to apologize had slowly started to dissolve when they left the office. Now, standing outside Korra's apartment, the night heavy with possibilities, she found it completely gone.
Korra cleared her throat as she tilted her chin up, feeling like she was being tugged forward by an invisible force. "I should go." The words came out barely audible, just above a whisper.
Asami brushed her lips softly against Korra's. "I could come up?" She pressed their lips more firmly together, her hand coming to rest on Korra's hip.
Korra hummed in approval as she parted her lips. "Yes, that's a," the little voice in the back of Korra's head went off, reminding her that through Hiroshi, Asami was considered a client. Her personal policy against getting too involved with clients sprang to the forefront of her mind. Korra pulled back, placed her hand against Asami's chest, gave a gentle push, and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't. I'm supposed to help your father, this," she motioned to the space between them, "cannot happen again." She stepped back, put more distance between them. "Call me if I can help, and thanks again for dinner."
She turned and hurried into the apartment building, taking the steps two at a time as she bound up the stairs to her apartment. She slammed the door behind her, pressed her back to it, her head thudding hard against it as she let it fall. "Fuck," she slid down to the floor, "of all the women in all the bars." She murmured bemusedly, then raised a finger to her tingling lips.