Title: and this could be a start

A/N: For the Water meets Electricity Korrasami zine! My AU started to spiral bigger and bigger and out of control from what I just wanted as a tavern maid x fighter meet cute.

Summary: In the stadium, there was something dark and beguiling about Korra, like striking a match, like standing under a tree in a thunderstorm. She was trouble, in every sense of the word.

Only, Asami hadn't expected the kind of trouble that was stumbling drunk at night, fighting off street signs and demons alike. Perhaps the handsome knight needed a princess to rescue her.

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While she couldn't say she loved it, Asami liked her job at the White Lotus Tavern. It was a busy, crowded place, popular mainly because of its location next to the fighting arena. There was always work, and her shifts bled into one another, leaving little time to think.

And that was what Asami wanted right now: not to think. She didn't want to remember her father, who'd twisted her mother's love and death until she couldn't recognize him anymore. She didn't want to remember how she'd lost everything as she'd tried to rebel against her only family. She didn't want to remember how she went from aristocrat to commoner, from tinker to waitress.

Her fingers often twitched, the urge to make something, anything, flooding her if she stayed still long enough. Unfortunately, there weren't any workshops that would take in someone like her. Asami had hidden her background, so she had no connections, no proof of her skills. No one would open the door for an apprentice from nowhere and without a chance to show her abilities, Asami was left with the most menial of jobs.

In this case, waiting tables and cleaning dishes.

Asami wiped the sweat from her brow as she glanced around the busy room. The wooden hall was filled with drunkards, all here to celebrate the latest gladiator matches. In her old life, she would never have stepped into such a place, and she couldn't tell if she would have been richer or poorer for it.

This wasn't the life she had imagined or hoped for. Yet, a meager freedom was better than none, and she squashed any urges for something more.

"More whisky!" Someone shouted, a bawdy laugh echoing through the rafters. Empty glasses clinked against one another as a table tried to get her attention.

Asami took a deep breath. Back to work it was. Donning a winning smile, she spun on her heel and approached the table. A mixed group of eight crowded a table for four, their chairs stolen from other tables as they crammed close. The table groaned from the weight of the food. "Certainly. Anything else?"

"Beer!" A woman shouted this time. She smiled drunkenly before hiccupping. "Lots of beer!"

"Fried chicken!"

"Dumplings!"

The chorus of voices felt endless. Their eyes were on Asami as she collected the empty dishes. She was used to it—eyes had been on her since she was young. Rich or poor, it was all the same: some were respectful, some were rude, and most were indifferent.

She only hoped that none of them recognized her. Last thing she needed was her father catching wind of where she was. Still wearing her business smile, Asami quickly strode into the kitchen, dropping a slip of paper onto the order counter before setting the glasses onto a counter.

The wall clock said it was only ten.

She had another hour of this to go.

"Hard day?" the kitchen cook, Keiko, asked, concern bleeding into her voice as she patted Asami's back. Her broad hand, callused from years of cooking, was oddly stabilizing.

"The usual," Asami sighed, relaxing under her touch. In the six months since she'd started hiding here, Keiko was the only one she could call a friend. Even with the age gap, they'd gotten along surprisingly well. Adjusting her skirt, Asami shrugged. "Busy."

"I can imagine, I can hear the fuss from all the way over here." Keiko stared at the kitchen door as though she were seeing through it and into the main tavern hall. Maybe she could. After spending decades here, Asami was certain Keiko could visualize the scene from sound alone. "Careful of the lads, they're always a little grabby on days like these."

"They know better than to try," Asami replied, her smile growing sinister.

"After what you did to the last fellow…" Keiko laughed warmly. "They'd be stupid not to. Anyways, if you need the break, the dishwasher needs adjusting."

Asami frowned. "The dishwasher I just fixed two days ago?"

Keiko nodded solemnly. "Aye, one and the same."

"It broke again?" Asami scowled as she rolled up her sleeves. It was a simple dishwasher. She could fix them in her sleep. There was no way she could have messed up on something like this. "What did you do? Overwork the—"

She cut herself off as she crouched next to a counter and stared at the damned device. It stood there innocently, running merrily as it cleaned the latest batch of dishes. Asami glanced at the smug Keiko and laughed. "Alright, I'll 'fix' it. Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Keiko waved her off as she returned to the stove and started working on her next dish. "Take me to the games this weekend."

"I don't understand the thrill," Asami replied as she started to fiddle with the dishwasher out of habit. By the time she was done with it, no one would call it a dishwasher anymore.

"You just haven't seen the right game. Tonight's was nothing." Keiko stirred a pot as she replied, eyes bright and excited. "There's a new champion."

Asami had heard that before. "And?"

"And she's…" Keiko sighed forlornly and cradled her cheek, acting like a lovestruck girl. "Amazing. You have to see the muscles on that woman, Korra. I wouldn't mind her sweeping me off my feet."

Asami chuckled. "And your husband?"

"He can stay behind." Keiko scowled. Her stirring grew violent, stew spilling over the pot's lip. "Worthless lump. The only one worse than him is that missing hero. Can't believe they just up and left like that—the war's still ongoing! We're at a stalemate now."

It had been a year since the country's hero, the Avatar, had disappeared. Asami had almost met the prestigious hero a few times, back when she'd still believed in her father. They'd been in the same circles, probably even attended the same balls and ceremonial events. Yet, somehow, they'd never crossed paths.

And now, with the Avatar just up and leaving the way that they had, they never would meet. No one knew why it had happened, only that the Avatar had fled in the night like a thief on the run. Some claimed it was heartbreak, others battle-fatigue, and others still cowardice.

Asami stared thoughtfully at the washer. She doubted anyone who'd fought as much as the Avatar had would just run away with their tail between their legs. "Maybe they died."

"I hope not. Otherwise, I'll really need Korra to take me away from it all." Keiko glanced at the clock as she plated two meals. "Oh, sorry dear, but you'll have to go back now."

Wiping her hands on her apron, Asami got up. "Thanks. I really needed this."

"Say nothing of it." Keiko smiled. "Come back when your shift's over and I'll give you something warm before you head home."

-x-

Asami wasn't sure why she was here. She had never been interested in fights, especially the all-out brawls that were held in the stadium regularly. They were no-holds barred, anything goes matches, and she was tired of seeing senseless violence. There was enough of that in the real world without re-enacting them for sport.

Still, Keiko had forcefully drag—invited Asami and she couldn't really say no. So, now, here she was, sitting on the upper rows of the stadium, watching as the warriors below hacked at one another with swords and spears.

Asami grimaced at a particularly deadly attack. "This is…something."

Mistaking her politeness for enjoyment, Keiko bumped shoulders with her. "Just wait, Korra's coming out next. You'll definitely love her."

"Will I?" Asami ran a hand through her hair. Maybe she could sneak out after the next match. Or even during the match—Keiko's attention would be solely on the stadium. Later, she could feign illness.

"She's here!" Keiko grasped her hand, gripping it tightly. "She looks even more handsome today."

Sighing again, Asami watched as the next contenders walked into the arena. It was obvious immediately which one was Korra—everyone's eyes were drawn to the woman entering from the right. Unlike the swaggering warriors from before, she walked like a prisoner to the gallows. Her eyes, dark and empty, gazed blankly at her opponent.

She was handsome, there was no doubt about it. The muscles on her bare arms spoke of her strength. Yet, while Keiko squealed, Asami shivered. There was something dark and beguiling about Korra, like striking a match, like standing under a tree in a thunderstorm. She was trouble, in every sense of the word.

A trumpet blew and the two enemies charged at one another. Even while facing a lance, Korra refused to pick up any of the weapons lining the arena, instead attacking with her bare hands. It was violent. It was brutal. It was like watching a cornered animal. Korra fought like each punch would be her last.

Maybe they were. Maybe she had a terminal illness, or a witch cursed her. Match after match, Korra clawed her way to victory, not noticing or caring as bruises bloomed across her skin. She screamed with each punch, low and guttural.

Asami was spellbound. It was like hearing her own heart's screams. Her own rage at the world.

-x-

Asami was used to walking home late at night. Shift work gave her little choice in the matter, and it wasn't long before she learned how to navigate the town at this witching hour. The worst of the drunks gathered at the same alleys, the same corners, and Asami plotted her route home like it was an obstacle course. The fifth streetlight flickered as she passed, and she kept her back stiff as she crossed the street.

She wasn't as scared as she had been the first few nights, when the town was still new and every bush held an imaginary attacker. Back then, she'd more ran than walked home. Now, Asami knew the tricks to keeping safe. There was little that could surprise her anymore.

Watching Korra stumble into a wall was one of them.

Asami froze as she turned a corner. Just ahead of her, a very drunk Korra staggered down the sidewalk, bumping into every pole on her way. If that wasn't bad enough, she picked a fight with everything she hit.

If only Keiko could see her now—would she still think of her as a knight?

"Fuck you," Korra growled at street sign, leaning back as she raised and swung her fist. It missed and she stumbled forward.

Instinctively, Asami dashed forward, grabbing Korra's arm before she could trip onto the street. "Careful!"

"Huhhh?" Korra drawled, her short bangs covering an eye as she turned to stare up at Asami.

This close, the scent of liquor was unmistakable. Asami wrinkled her nose. Champion or no, she couldn't leave her like this. "You need help?"

"Help…" Something dark flickered across Korra's face. Her eyes grew dark, the bags under them more prominent. Suddenly, she stiffened, as though she'd seen a ghost. "N-no…."

Asami glanced over her shoulder but there was no one there. They were the only two people on this small side street; there wasn't even a stray cat loitering nearby. "Korra?"

Korra flinched at the sound of her name. Jerking her arm out of Asami's grasp, she curled forward, digging her fingers into her forearms as she hugged herself. She looked petrified, like a child facing her worst fears.

"Korra?" Asami repeated softly, hesitantly reaching out to her. When her fingers grazed Korra's shoulder, the woman flinched and Asami recoiled.

Just what could have triggered this response? There was no one else here. The night was an ordinary one. Korra didn't even look injured. Yet, her expression was clearly traumatized by some night terror. Maybe it was the alcohol, making her see things that weren't there.

It was late. Asami was exhausted. Her apartment was only a block away.

With a sigh, she crouched to eye level with Korra. "Korra? Can you lean on me? I'll help you home."

Korra finally looked at her, her eyes wide and frightened. Reaching out with a trembling hand, she desperately grabbed Asami's arm and nodded. "P-please. Help."

Her fingers were digging deep enough to leave a bruise and Asami winced. Still, she kept her voice steady as she slowly rose, taking Korra with her. "Let's go."

Korra said nothing else, just following her like a frightened child. Not knowing where else to take her, Asami led her into her apartment and onto her couch. For all her terrors, the second she sank into the plush cushions, she was out like a light.

Her expression still looked troubled, as though the nightmares had followed her into her dreams.

Asami could relate—she dreamed of her father and his lies daily.

-x-

The coffee was made by the time Korra jolted awake. Startled, Asami watched as the fighter tumbled off the cushions, narrowly missing the table in her confusion. "Ouch. Fuck. What…"

"Good morning?" Asami called out carefully, making sure to keep her distance. Who knew what kind of person Korra was when she first woke up, especially after finding herself in a strange place? The fighter had been feral in the ring and violent on the street; Asami hoped that nothing broke before the woman left.

"You…" Korra sprang to her feet, her fists raised as she scanned the apartment. After a few seconds, she turned back to Asami and cocked her head like a confused puppy. "Huh?"

"You feeling better now?" Asami asked, holding up a coffee mug. "Do you want some?"

"What…who…" Korra glanced at the couch, herself, and finally Asami once more. Immediately, she flushed, her skin turning a reddish-brown. "Did…did we…"

Asami blinked before catching on. Unable to help herself, she smiled slyly. "Don't tell me you forgot last night?"

Korra turned a darker red. In the light of day, she was the exact opposite of how she'd acted last night. It was cute. "I…um…"

Unable to hold it in, Asami burst into laughter. "You were wandering the streets drunk." It was probably better to keep silent on the rest of it. "I couldn't leave you like that."

Korra buried her face in her hands. "Oh god."

"It's not that bad." Asami picked up the second mug of coffee and approached her. "Here, this'll help with the hangover."

Slumping forward, Korra accepted the steaming drink. "Sorry about that, I…I can't believe I did that."

Asami giggled again. This was entirely unexpected. From the way Korra had fought in the arena the other day, she'd expected someone more confident and cockier. It was oddly refreshing to find this instead. "It's fine, I don't mind. It's been a while since I had a roommate."

"Still." Korra took a sip of coffee and sighed. Turning to Asami, she straightened. "I owe you one. Is there anything I can help you with?"

And there was the knightly image again. Straight back, unflinching gaze, a confident voice—it was charming. It was noble. It reminded Asami all too much of the knight-princess romance she'd just spent the morning reading and she looked away before she could go too deep down that rabbit hole. Clearing her throat, she rejected the offer. "I told you, it's nothing."

"It's not." Korra frowned. "Seriously, I have to do something for you. Anything."

Asami glanced at her. It was a mistake; her expression had grown even more knightly, if possible. Sighing, Asami ran a hand through her hair. "Fine. Let me think about it."

-x-

This probably wasn't Korra's first time at the tavern, but it was the first time Asami served her. All day, Korra had followed her like a puppy, her eyes expectant whenever Asami turned her way. Even now, as she sat in a corner, nursing a cider like she was trying to break a world record for slow drinking, Korra's gaze followed Asami as she moved from table to table.

Asami was used to being stared at. As young and attractive as she was, it wasn't the first time a customer watched her.

Yet, for once, it wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling.

She didn't know what to make of it.

By the time she was done with her shift, it was dark again. The fifth street light still flickered in the distance. The clouds covered the moon making it harder to see. Korra got up, pulling a silver coin from her pocket. "I'll come again," she said.

"Did you waste enough time today?" Asami asked, picking up her cup.

"Hmm…" Korra shrugged, not denying the charge. "It wasn't that bad."

"But still a waste," Asami repeated, a teasing lilt in her tone. "Maybe you should have drunk more than just cider?"

"That…" Korra rubbed her neck sheepishly and looked away. "I was going to, but then…I didn't want to get drunk and need your help again. The idea's to help you, not rack up my debt."

Asami chuckled. "So that explains it." She glanced out the window. It was a moonless night. "It can be anything?"

Korra perked up. She nodded vigorously. "Yeah! What, thought of something?"

"Kinda." Asami rubbed her arm. "Could you walk me home?"

Korra nodded, looking like she was waiting for something else. When Asami didn't add anything, her jaw dropped. "Wait, that's it? Nothing else?"

Asami flushed. It was probably the biggest waste of a favour, especially one from someone with Korra's skills. "It's just…the moon's not out…and…"

"Oh, yeah. I guess it's a bit darker outside than usual." Korra glanced at the window, staring up at the sky. From the corner of her eye, she studied Asami before grinning. "Alright. I'll be outside."

Asami had forgotten how thin the walls in the tavern could be. As she headed back to the employees' room to get her things, Keiko poked her head out of the kitchen. She smirked knowingly. "So, Korra, huh?"

Asami flushed when Keiko winked. "It's not like that."

"Whatever you say, honey." Keiko sniggered as she headed back into the kitchen. "Be safe, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

She snatched her jacket and bag, praying that the door had closed firmly behind Korra. "Again, not like that."

"Uh-huh." Keiko called out. "Have fun on the date!"

Maybe she should just break the dishwasher. Asami fought down her blush as she stepped outside. The cool breeze helped calm her down and she stepped onto the sidewalk where Korra was waiting. "Thanks."

"Why're you thanking me?" Korra asked, shaking her head. "I said I'd do it. But this can't be it, right?"

"All I did was walk you home," Asami pointed out evenly. Honestly, if she looked at it objectively, she hadn't done that much.

"But…I mean…" Korra frowned, rubbing her chin as she contemplated it. Walking together like this, Asami could see the woman was slightly shorter than she was, but she made up for it with power. Every part of her looked strong, from her arms to her back to her legs.

Asami cut off her thoughts before she could go any further. Keiko had clearly corrupted her.

"Alright." Korra slammed her first into her open palm. She grinned like she'd solved a life-changing problem. "Got it, I'll walk you home for a month."

Asami started, jerking her head to Korra. "A month? But I only did it once!"

Korra pointed at her. "Yeah, but you did it without asking." She jabbed her thumb at her chest. "And I'm doing it to return a favour. This makes it fair."

"Oh. I see." Asami bit her cheek, considering the offer. It'd only be for a month. It wasn't like it was all that bad of a deal in the first place; she wouldn't have to hurry home for once, and she had the ultimate bodyguard.

Besides. She peeked at her companion from the corner of her eye. It wasn't like it was the worst thing in the world to have a handsome champion walk her home.

Smiling, Asami pushed back her hair behind her ear with a hand, her other held out. "It's a deal."