A/N: Did I finish any of my WIPs? No. Am I even close? Also no. Did I write a new one-shot instead? Yes. But fuck it, I'm proud of myself for actually writing something and finishing it. It's been too long.

This takes place about 8-10 years after the war. I didn't feel like come in up with a backstory for how/why Sokka and Suki broke up so it's only mentioned briefly. All you need to know is that he's single and has been for a while.

Sokka squinted at the list Katara had just handed over. Why did she have to write so damn small?

"Does that say 'lentils'?"

"Yeah." She shifted Bumi over to her other hip when he started to whine a little. "You should be able to find everything in Chuli Square, about a fifteen-minute walk from the docks. And please hurry."

"Yes, your highness," Sokka said with a mocking bow and a roguish grin, which was met with rolled eyes.

"I said please. What more do you want from me?"

It seemed like a rhetorical question and he left instead of answering. Between the steep hill to the ferry, crossing the bay, and finally walking to the market square, Sokka had plenty of time to think up some more witty remarks about being her lackey. With Aang swamped this week, thanks to a diplomatic summit happening at City Hall, Katara was making great use of his unfortunate amount of free time.

I have got to find a new job.

After resigning from his role as one of Zuko's advisors when Katara was deep enough into her pregnancy to need help, he'd been staying with her and Aang on Air Temple Island. It hadn't quite turned out the way he'd envisioned, which was to be a cool, fun uncle while Katara kept house. What actually happened was that Bumi slept most of the time and Sokka was given lots of chores. And how could he say no? This was the whole reason he'd come—to help her. That was how families functioned in the Southern Water Tribe. A new baby was everyone's responsibility.

But he was a young man and he wanted to enjoy the relatively peaceful world he'd helped create. He wanted to be living free and kicking ass like Toph, who was so busy that she'd only been able to visit the island a few times since Bumi was born.

It was with those thoughts on his mind that he chose a shop that looked promising, though it was only an educated guess. As much as he'd done for Katara in the last several months, this was the first time she'd sent him grocery shopping, and only because she was desperate.

"Excuse me," Sokka said to the man at the register. "Do you have–" After a quick glance at the list, he just held it out. "Any of this?"

"Hm… Yeah, some of it. Mostly on aisles two and three. If you're having trouble finding anything specific, just ask the boy that's stocking the shelves."

"Thanks."

He set off in the indicated direction, though his focus was on the list. In his peripherals, he noticed a petite woman trailing her fingers lightly over some boxes on the shelf in front of her. The cane in her other hand served as confirmation that she was blind.

Instantly, Sokka was put in mind of Toph. This woman also had long black hair, though hers hung in loose waves nearly to her waist. Was Toph's hair that long? He wasn't sure. And unlike her, the woman in front of him wore shoes and fitted clothes that accentuated her curves.

A brilliant plan was taking shape in his head. I bet she'll go out with me. I can use Toph as a conversation starter! He thought of little else but getting a date whenever an attractive woman crossed his path. Oddly enough, his corny lines usually worked.

What ended up coming out of his mouth was, admittedly, not his finest moment. "The way you're caressing those bags in public should be a crime. Wouldn't it just be easier to forget cooking dinner and let me take you out instead?"

There was a brief but torturous pause where her hand went still and he was sure he'd fucked up, then she turned slowly to reveal a familiar smirk and the faintest hint of a rosy blush. "So you're into blind chicks, are you?"

Sokka's mouth fell open and he froze. His mind simply refused to comprehend what was going on. She looks just like Toph! it told him, putting the pieces together but in the wrong order. And sounds like her too!

He heard his mouth say, "You look just like my blind friend!"

The amusement on her face melted into irritated disbelief. "It's me, you meat-brained moron! Ten years, and you don't even know when I'm standing right in front of you?! Who's the blind one? I knew it was you the second you opened your mouth, and I would've known sooner if I wasn't trying to figure out if this is flour or fucking powdered sugar!"

The end of her rant was punctuated with an exasperated sweeping gesture at the small bags on the shelf next to her. But Sokka had barely listened to a word she'd said. All he could do was stare in shock while his poor, confused brain struggled to catch up.

"Wow. Speechless," she continued, now with her arms crossed and a smug expression plastered across her face. "If I'd known that all it would take was for me to let my hair down, I would've done it years ago."

Wholly unable to acknowledge that he'd just accidentally hit on Toph—not to mention the fact that her comment had a distinctly flirtatious edge to it—Sokka said the first thing that came to mind. "Why are you using a cane?"

"Same reason I'm dressed like this: So I can get a bit of peace without being recognized everywhere I go. The whole 'walking confidently while blind' thing tends to give away my disguise."

"And why are you shopping for…cooking ingredients?"

A slight pout formed on Toph's mouth. Sokka knew that petulant look well, but this was the first time he'd ever been charmed by it.

Spirits, what is wrong with me? I'm never going to live this down. She'll for sure tell Katara and Aang that I hit on her by mistake.

Worse, it was impossible to ignore the fact that, not only had he been initially attracted to her body, but he'd also felt that way while fully acknowledging that she reminded him of Toph. It was a disconcerting realization.

"My parents are coming to visit in two weeks," she grumbled. "My mom threatened to hire a chef for me but I told her I'm perfectly capable of cooking for myself."

Finally, Sokka regained his footing. This was Toph, after all. They'd known each other for so long. It didn't matter if he put his foot in his mouth with her, or if he made a fool out of himself. Maybe it didn't even matter if he possibly might be a tiny bit interested in thinking of her as more than a friend. None of that mattered because they were best buds who'd been through a war together. Their friendship could weather anything.

"Yes, as we all know, you're a master chef," he retorted, picking up one of the bags she'd been investigating. "This is corn starch, by the way."

The overdramatic defeated look that appeared on her face was impossible not to laugh at and Sokka knew he fully deserved the swift punch that landed on his bicep.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Toph countered. "Shouldn't you be scrubbing baby shit off of diapers?"

"I spent half the morning doing that, actually," Sokka deadpanned. "Now I've been sent to collect a list of items for a big dinner that Katara is making for some Very Important Diplomats that Aang has apparently invited to the island."

"Well, that sounds like the opposite of fun."

"Yeah, no kidding. I'm hoping to sneak out before they arrive. Bumi should be in bed by then, so I'll be off the hook."

"Hey, maybe you can come over and help me figure out how to make bread."

Sokka barked out a laugh. "What makes you think I know how to make bread? If you're trying to learn how to cook, why don't you ask Katara to teach you?" But of course, as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he knew the answer to that question.

"A– She doesn't have the time. B– I don't want to be roped into baby duty. C– I don't have the time or will to schlepp back and forth on that fucking death trap you call a ferry."

Yep, that was the Toph he knew. Her predictability was oddly comforting.

"You don't seem too busy right now."

She just shrugged. "I gave myself the afternoon off. I was frustrated."

That much was clear in the tension around her eyes. It wasn't right for someone like her to miss out on having fun. Adulthood was trying to fit her into a box that didn't quite fit, and she was obviously determined to make the best of it, but Sokka hated that it was running her so ragged lately.

"Okay, I have an idea," he said brightly. "I'll finish helping Katara, then make my escape and we can go to that bar on Fifth Street. They make amazing bread rolls and I bet I can get the guy to write down the recipe for me. Two smart people like us should be able to figure it out from there."

Fully expecting a retort about his intellect, Sokka was pleasantly surprised when the tension melted from her face and she smiled.

"Okay, Meathead. Dazzle me."

He just chuckled. "I'll swing by your place around six or seven. Whenever I can get away."

"It's a date."

They parted ways with Sokka unsure whether her final comment had been a joke meant to make fun of him for not recognizing her…or actually sincere. Even more puzzling was that he found himself wanting it to be the latter.

It was true that she had reacted favorably to his embarrassing misstep. Had she realized at that point that he thought she was someone else? Or had she assumed that he was actually trying to hit on her? He couldn't seem to stop thinking about that faint blush on her cheeks. Was it possible that she was actually into him?

As Sokka rode the ferry back to the chaos of Air Temple Island, breathing deeply to enjoy the peaceful breeze and the gentle spray from the choppy waves, he made up his mind to find out.

'It's a date.'

Those three words kept spinning around Toph's head while she passed the rest of the afternoon with an intense training session. It was the only way to handle the nervous excitement coursing through her body.

'It's a date.'

Part of her couldn't believe she'd actually said that to him. It had been a gamble, she knew, but he hadn't reacted badly. Then again, he'd probably just thought she was making fun of him. And, well, maybe she was a little bit.

But the fact was that he had asked her out. It didn't matter that he didn't know it was her at the time. The takeaway was that he'd seen something he liked; that was all she needed to jump on this train that was now chugging along, full steam ahead.

They'd gone out drinking plenty of times, of course. They'd hung out together, just the two of them, on many occasions. But this felt different somehow. Maybe it was because they'd made definite plans in advance.

No, dipshit, she said to herself scornfully. It's because you called it a date. Out loud.

But she was past embarrassment. He was either into it or not, and she'd find out one way or another in just an hour or so.

An hour or a fucking eternity—one of those.

Toph didn't know what time it was when his familiar footsteps finally approached her apartment—she'd been watching for them—but it felt pretty late.

"Sorry," he said by way of greeting. "Unsurprisingly, Katara asked me to get Bumi to bed. He was a little bit stubborn about it tonight. Clearly, I'm going to have to work on his wingman skills."

Toph's mouth went dry and she forced out a laugh. "What have you got there?" she asked instead of acknowledging the comment and whether or not it meant what it sounded like. "What are you carrying?"

"Well, I wasn't sure you would've gotten all the right ingredients earlier, so I went to the bar and asked for the recipe so I could buy everything before the shops closed."

Toph was speechless. Pleased, but deeply surprised. Why, though? It was Sokka. He was always doing stuff like that. When he had his mind focused on something—or someone—he gave everything he had.

"Uh, by the way," he added, "You'll need to pay Katara back."

She just nodded and let him inside to put the bag down in her rarely-used kitchen. It occurred to her that he hadn't been inside her apartment since she first got it, years ago. Usually, they just hung out in the city or on the island.

"Love what you've done with the place," he teased. "The cobwebs and light layer of dust in the kitchen really complement the crumbs and stains on the sofa. And the indent on that left cushion bears a remarkable resemblance to a human ass-print. So artistic."

"I didn't realize you've been looking at my ass that much."

"I didn't say it looked specifically like yours," he grumbled. "Anyway, do you still want to go get drinks? Or just get started on the bread?"

"I'm actually kind of starving. I didn't have dinner."

"Were you waiting for me?" That teasing note was back in his voice. How quickly he could regain the upper hand with her.

Shit, is he actually flirting with me? Toph realized her heart was racing and she took a few slow breaths to calm herself. "Yeah, idiot. Because you said you'd pick me up at dinnertime. I don't have any food here, so I would've had to leave to get some takeout. But I didn't know exactly when you were coming."

"Well, let's go feed the beast, then." He gave her arm a gentle punch while she locked up. "And pick up a bottle of something while we're out."

"You trying to get me drunk?"

"I'll have you know I'm a gentleman and would never do such a thing." The way he finished the sentence gave the impression that there was more to it that he abruptly chose not to say.

Toph couldn't help herself from busting out with a derisive laugh. "You've made it your personal mission to get me very drunk many times."

"Well. That was different." The sudden vulnerable note in his voice was unexpected.

"Different how?"

His answer took a few long seconds to come. Meanwhile, Toph could feel sweat dripping down her spine.

"I dunno. Guess things have just been different since Bumi was born. I'm a changed man," he added with gusto.

She let out a faintly disappointed breath; that hadn't been where she thought he was going with that. But despite the fact that she detected no outright lies, she got the distinct impression that he was avoiding her question. Certainly, he seemed more nervous than he usually was around her.

"So what you're saying is that the kid has made you boring and responsible? Shit, sign me up. Spirits know I need a little more boring responsibility in my life…"

Sokka chuckled at her deep sarcasm. They spent the rest of the walk to Chin's Noodles catching up on each other's lives. It didn't leave much room for flirting, unfortunately, but it at least served to settle Toph's nerves and find that comfortable groove she'd always had with him.

However, the walk back once they got their takeout and a bottle of sake was…different. Quieter. What was he thinking about? Did this feel as much like a real date to him as it did to her? Judging by his elevated heart rate, it did.

Part of her wanted to break the silence and get everything out in the open, but a much bigger part of her wanted to enjoy the electric energy that was born from the tension that hung in the air. So much between them had always been unspoken—that sense of camaraderie built on near-death experiences, the trauma of war that neither could bring themselves to articulate with words that would never quite be enough.

Right now, it was enough that he clearly felt something. Feeling his heart pulse down his body, through the ground, and into her was a sensation she never tired of; now that strong, slightly anxious rhythm was just for her. It filled her with a deep warmth and affection and she very nearly reached for his hand as it swung casually next to hers.

But then they were back at her place and sitting on the sofa together, eating and drinking, talking and laughing like they always did. It was a familiar dynamic, but with a fresh twist that filled Toph with excitement.

"Okay, okay," she said at one point. "Tell me the truth: Did you really not recognize me today?"

"I really didn't!" he exclaimed with a laugh. "I swear! I couldn't wrap my brain around it. I've never seen you use a cane before. I didn't even know you had one! Why didn't you tell me you were going all Blind Bandit again? Going out into the city in disguise? Is it time for Wang Fire to rise again? We could have so much fun together!"

There was one thing in particular that Toph loved about drinking with Sokka, and that was that he turned into a rambling disaster very quickly.

"I don't do it very often. You know me," she said with a dismissive wave. "I like the attention. Most of the time."

"With the way you were dressed, I imagine you still got plenty of attention."

Much to her annoyance, Toph's traitorous face went hot again. "Was it really that provocative? I was barely showing any skin."

"No, no, I'm just giving you shit," he said quickly, laughing softly. "You looked nice. Not that you look bad normally. I just mean that you looked very…feminine. I mean, not that you look masculine now—"

"Sokka," she interrupted, amused. "If you dig that hole any deeper, even I won't be able to dig you out of it."

Toph had a nice buzz by the time they finished eating, though they spent a while talking even after the food was gone. But she was getting sleepy and worried that he might leave if she started yawning.

"So," she said finally. "The bread."

"The bread! Shit, I almost forgot."

He hopped up enthusiastically and began to unpack the bag of ingredients. Toph followed more sedately and rested her arms on the counter while he organized everything and rifled through her cupboards for what he needed.

"Please tell me you have a round baking dish…" he muttered.

"The landlord said the kitchen was fully stocked, but I never actually checked."

He didn't seem to be listening, more intent on rambling about the bread. "The guy at the bar is from the Fire Nation. He said this is a family recipe for milk bread rolls. It doesn't look too complicated. Half the work's already done because one of the ingredients is this….uh…'starter' that he gave me some of."

"Sounds like you two really hit it off. You sure you don't want to spend the rest of your night with him?

Toph couldn't see Sokka's eyes roll, but she was sure they did based on the faintly annoyed sigh she got from him.

"Okay…" he mused. "Let's see. It says to just…mix everything together and knead the dough, then let it rise, roll it into balls, and bake it in the pan."

"Sounds easy enough."

"I'm not going to do it for you, though. The whole point of this is for you to learn how to do it yourself."

"Fine," Toph said with a shrug. She came around the counter and began to run her hands over everything laid out. "Tell me what to measure."

And thus began her first disastrous foray into the world of baking. The first cup of flour made her sneeze so violently that most of it ended up everywhere but the bowl. Sokka laughed so hard he fell to his knees; Toph retaliated by slapping his backside, which was conveniently pointed at her in his current position.

His reaction was a satisfying girlish squeal, but he went back to laughing almost immediately. "You've left your mark on me now. Your tiny little white handprint has claimed my asscheek."

They calmed down a tiny bit after that while Toph focused on trying to measure properly. As much fun as she was having with Sokka, she actually wanted these rolls to be edible.

"Okay, now crack an egg into the bowl," he instructed.

She felt around on the counter for the carton and carefully pulled out an egg. It was actually the first time she'd ever even held a raw one. So delicate, more than expected. It wouldn't take much to break the thin shell.

With her hand hovering over the bowl, she clenched it into a fist with minimal pressure and felt the whole egg shatter and ooze through her fingers. It was disgusting, the slimy wetness making the shell fragments stick to her skin as it all dripped off slowly.

"What–" Sokka stammered. "What did you– Why did you do that?"

"What do you mean? You told me to crack it into the bowl!" It was obvious by his choked-back laughter that she'd done something wrong.

"Look, I'm no expert," he managed, "but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to eat the shell."

"Doesn't it all just mix together and soften when you bake it?"

"Mmm…no. Hold on, I'll try to pick out the pieces."

A few grumbled remarks later ('Did you have to pulverize it?'), he took up a position right behind her with his body pressed against hers. Toph could barely breathe, overwhelmed by his familiar scent swirling all around her.

What is he doing?

But the question was soon answered when he gently placed another egg in her hand. His own much larger, warmer hands wrapped around hers and directed her movement like she was a puppet and he, the strings that controlled her. She couldn't have resisted if she tried.

The hand that held the egg tapped it lightly against the corner of the counter. Toph couldn't believe such a muscley lunk of a man could be so gentle and precise. Then he brought both hands up to hover over the bowl and pressed her thumbs into the weakened part of the shell. The whole thing finally split in half when he pulled their hands apart.

"Oops," he said with a soft chuckle, his warm breath tickling her ear. "Got a few bits of shell in there, anyway."

But he didn't let go of her hands. She was still holding the shell pieces, one side of it still dripping slimy liquid onto her fingers in an almost lewd way. But all of that was just a faint buzzing in the background. It couldn't compare to his hot skin against hers, his heart pounding against her back.

The moment lingered, on and on until Toph couldn't stand it anymore. She moved her hands to drop the shell pieces on the counter, which seemed to give Sokka the impression that she wanted him to let go.

But it wasn't true at all. The second his hands pulled away, she was filled with regret. That feeling spurred an impulsive spin that put her back to the counter so she could wipe her hands on his shirt with a mischievous grin. And then she left them there, pressed flat against his chest. It was as bold as she'd ever dared to be with him.

"You got egg all over my shirt," he said.

"I thought it would match the flour on your ass nicely."

"Guess I'm just about ready to go in the oven, then."

"Didn't the recipe say something about greasing with oil first?" Toph countered with a smirk.

That expression was wiped off her face in an instant, though, when his thumb brushed across her cheekbone. She very nearly sighed audibly at the unexpected contact, her heart beating so hard now that it drowned out whatever his was doing.

"You had a bit of flour there," he explained. "Well, it's everywhere, actually, but there was a big spot there. His thumb traveled down to her lower lip. "Little bit there, too."

"If you want to kiss me, just do it and stop trying to make bullshit excuses."

Her bravado was put on, as it often was. Inside, she was a roiling mess of excitement and anxiety and desire and even a little bit of fear for what this would mean for them. But Toph Beifong lived one day at a time and tried not to plan too far into the future.

For one torturous moment, she thought he might chicken out. That slight hesitation was all it took for the muscles of her face to go rogue and show far more of herself than she meant to.

And then…

The space between them closed like a bedroom door being pushed to with soft finality. They were cut off from the world and whatever happened next would be for them only. Curtains drawn. Bodies entwined.

Everything was forgotten. The baking lesson, the stress of adulthood, Katara's looming reminder of the consequences of intimacy, and Sokka's former inability to consider Toph in his apparent quest to date every woman in Republic City.

All of that was instantly chased away when his lips finally greeted hers in what felt like the culmination of every second they'd ever spent together. How many times had she pointlessly, futilely fantasized about this? How many times had she berated herself for it afterward?

'It's never going to happen, Toph. Just let it go.'

But it was happening. The taste of him was rippling across her tongue and she knew she'd never, ever forget it. Even if he decided this wasn't what he wanted and this was all she'd ever get, it was enough. One perfect memory that engaged all of her senses and that would surely leave him with a matching impression. Bodies pressed together, breath flowing between their mouths, fingers trailing across goosebumps. Eyes closed.

As all good things must, the kiss drew closer and closer to its end until, finally, their lips went still and parted ways. Toph had no idea what sort of words could ever hope to follow such a transcendental experience. Maybe it was better to not say anything. Better to let the silence linger and just…bask in the moment.

Apparently, Sokka had no such thoughts. "I had no idea you felt this way," he murmured.

"Same," was all Toph could manage.

There was a brief pause, followed by, "Wait, do you mean…'same' that you didn't know you felt this way, or 'same' that you didn't know I felt this way?"

"Meathead, you're saying way too many words right now." She sighed and tried to figure out his confusing question. "I didn't know you were even capable of feeling this way."

"Honestly? Neither did I. But…seeing you today… Thinking you were someone else. I guess it made me realize I've been overlooking what was right in front of me."

"You blind idiot."

"How long?" he asked suddenly.

The blunt question seemed to suck all the air out of Toph's lungs. What could she say? It was just a crush. The kind of crush a grown woman might have on a man she'd known for almost a decade and had never been allowed to forget about because he was always there. The kind of crush you had on a guy who'd saved your life and knew your deepest fears.

"I'll tell you if you tell me something first."

"What do you want to know? I'm an open book. Always have been."

"You've obviously forgotten that I can't read," she scoffed.

But he found her hand and pressed it against his steady heartbeat. "You can read me. I know you can. Better than anyone."

The gesture gave her all the confidence she needed to ask her question. "I do know you. I've seen how you are. Ever since you and Suki ended things, you've run through half of Republic City like a man trying to break a record."

He made a vague noise of protest but she bowled right over him.

"I may be exaggerating a tiny bit, but my point still stands. I want to know if you're going to lose interest in a couple of weeks like you usually do. If you think you will, I'd rather know now so that I can moderate my expectations."

His hand tightened around hers. "I could never lose interest in you, Toph. I can't guarantee this new thing between us will last. I can't see the future. But…you'll always be in my life. No matter what. You're not just a passing distraction."

"Well, shit," Toph managed, trying to conceal how his words made her feel. "I didn't think you were going to get all saccharine with me. I must've made an impression."

"I've answered your question—very sincerely, I might add. A deal's a deal."

She nodded slowly and reached up to remove the meteorite bracelet from her bicep. Her hands shaped it into swirling waves—the Water Tribe symbol—and she placed it on his palm. "Since the beginning."

Bread Epilogue (because I can't handle the unmixed ingredients sitting there until the end of time)

After the kneading process—which they did together with newly uninhibited fingers intertwining—there was quite a lot of waiting around. Waiting for it to rise, to rest, to bake. The first two of those breaks were spent on the sofa, lips locked together in an endless dance.

By the time the damn thing actually went in the oven, it was nearly three o'clock in the morning and the new lovebirds fell asleep in each other's arms until the timer jolted Toph awake. She'd slipped between the back of the sofa and Sokka's large body, which was trapping her.

"Meathead! Wake up!" she said, pounding on his arm with her fist.

"Hrmm?"

"The timer went off. I'm stuck."

"Timer…?"

She just sighed, though not without some fondness. It was oddly comforting to discover that he still slept just as heavily as he had when he was sixteen. Still, she needed to get up, and finally resorted to shoving him hard enough that he rolled onto the floor. That certainly woke him up.

"Toph! What the– What was that for?"

"While I wouldn't normally object to having you pin me down," she said as she headed into the kitchen, "now's not a good time."

"Oh, did the timer go off?"

Heat assaulted her face when she opened the oven door, though she needed no protective gear to metalbend the baking dish onto the top of the stove.

"Well?" she asked him as he approached. "How does it look?"

"Hmm…" There was a brief pause while he appeared to be inspecting their creation. "Might want to hold off on opening a bakery any time soon."

"That bad? You haven't even tasted it."

"I think I'd break my teeth if I tried."

"Shit."

Sokka just laughed and hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her into him. "We can always try again. Maybe next time we should mix the dough before we get distracted."

"Ooor," Toph countered, "we can forget baking and do something else."

"Like...knitting?"

"Yes. Knitting. You read my mind."