Lin shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She pulled at her collar.
This was ridiculous. She was not some teenager at the whim of her hormones.
But she'd woken up that morning . . . irritatingly aroused.
And even more irritatingly alone.
The cold shower she took proved nothing more than an old-wives' tale.
Even the open-forum city council meeting, usually painfully boring enough to kill even the hardiest libido, went horribly wrong when she glanced out at the audience and saw none other than the source of all her frustration.
Kya was in the crowd. Kya who had smiled up at her—and raised an eyebrow, Kya who had disappeared by the time the meeting adjourned—like it hadn't been almost two weeks since they had seen each other, like it hadn't been even longer than that since they had been alone together.
Nieces and nephews, avatars and acolytes, arsonists and petty thieves—they all had remarkably inconsiderate timing as of late.
"Your two-o'clock's here, chief."
Lin glanced at the scribbled notes on her calendar and made a mental note to speak to her sergeant about his penmanship. Chair of the Committee for the Celebration of . . . something.
"Fine," she called. "Send him in."
Lin shuffled the crime scene photos littering her desk into a folder. She set her jaw and squared her shoulders. She could get through another meeting.
The shock of Kya stepping through her door clearly registered on her face—and with other parts of her body that had been betraying her all day.
Kya closed the door. A decided click signaled that she had also locked it.
Kya smiled, said, "Chief," in greeting and Lin swallowed hard.
Her hair was wind-blown, even more tendrils escaping from the knot atop her head than usual. Her collarbones—Spirits.
Not today.
Lin stood up behind her desk before Kya could see her squirm. She put on what she hoped was her best taking-no-shit-from-a-perp scowl.
"We've talked about this," she warned. "Not here."
Kya's face was the picture of innocence.
"But I have an appointment."
"What?" Lin looked down at the scrawled writing again. "You're the Chair of the Committee for the Celebration of—"
"Southern Water Tribe Heritage," Kya finished. "Co-chair, actually. Republic City has a growing water bender population—who want to celebrate the Festival of the Waning Crescent. We'll need security for the crowds."
Festival. Waning Crescent. Security. Maybe she was letting her own hormone-addled brain create conspiracy where there wasn't any.
"And why talk to some green lieutenant when I have the Chief of Police's . . . ear?"
Or maybe Kya was up to exactly what she suspected.
Kya's smile had gone from friendly to fire-cat who ate the canary-fish in the space of seconds.
"No," Lin said again.
It almost sounded like she meant it.
"So your current state is from that very captivating council meeting—and not because you've been thinking about me?"
Lin flushed.
"That's a cheap water-bender trick."
"I can't stay in the city tonight. I've promised Bumi to help him with his meditation," Kya continued matter-of-factly. "And we're just having a meeting."
But she was circling Lin's desk, looking her over from head to toe and lingering on a few points in between.
"You're already standing here all . . . serious and intimidating."
She stopped when she was standing behind Lin.
Dangerously close behind her, Lin noted.
"I bet if I were some other petty official wasting your time with frivolous matters you'd put your hands down here on the desk." Kya's hands trailed down Lin's arms to find the fingers clenched at her sides. She laced her fingers through Lin's and guided them down, coaxed them to lie flat over forgotten folders and reports.
"Keep them there."
########################
When Lin's head tilted unconsciously to let her kiss the spot where jaw met neck, Kya obliged, ran her tongue to Lin's earlobe and closed her lips around it.
She moved her hands blindly beneath Lin's uniform, groping for the buttons on her pants. She was surprised that Lin hadn't moved, wasn't putting up a fuss, or at the very least hastening her quest to get her pants open. She studied her lover's profile: Lin's eyes were closed, her breathing labored over parted lips.
When she was finally able to maneuver her hand beneath fabric to find skin, she almost forgot the little game she was playing. When her fingers finally slipped through silky folds—spirits, so very, wonderfully, wet—she let out a surprised gasp next to Lin's ear before she could stop herself.
She watched Lin frown and flush, in embarrassment now, and felt a shocking wave of possessiveness, of pure mine. Shebit the back of Lin's neck just below her hairline, gnashed her teeth against Lin's skin until she felt her flinch.
She moved her fingers again, slid two between tight, pulsing walls without preamble, ground the heel of her palm against Lin until Lin's own fingers were clutching at the papers on her desk.
Lin's teeth were closed against her bottom lip, but a strangled sound escaped despite her best efforts at control.
Kya covered Lin's mouth with her other hand, felt Lin moan into her palm and strain back against her.
########################
If they were at home, Kya would draw this out. But here?—Lin would never let her touch her again if anyone so much as raised an eyebrow.
Quick then.
"Do you have any idea how much I'd like to be on my knees right now?" she whispered against Lin's neck. Another moan, but thankfully muffled now. "Tasting you."
Lin bit her finger and Kya smiled into her hair.
"But that would be crossing a line here. In your office."
Lin's head fell forward.
"And the longer I'm in here, the more suspicious it might seem. How long could a meeting about event-security take?"
Lin's hand left the desk then—pressed over Kya's, making each frenzied stroke harder, deeper-"So why don't you just come for me?"—until she needed both hands, both elbows to keep herself upright against her desk as her knees gave way and she did just as Kya asked.
########################
Kya's fingers moved again against too-sensitive nerves, withdrawing and leaving a tremor in their wake.
She settled back into Lin's chair as the Chief of Police slumped over her desk, trying to catch her breath.
########################
Lin fastened her pants and straightened her uniform. She rubbed at the quickly-swelling bruise at the nape of her neck.
She made a decision.
"Get out of my chair."
########################
"Is the Festival of the Waxing-"
"Waning."
"Waning Crescent even a real thing?"
"Yes. Its next month."
"You can have all the officers you need."
"I'll need to spend more time than usual in the city."
"You should probably just move in with me."
"I'd certainly have more time to focus on the festival then."
"Get out of my office."
########################
"Kya and Lin."
Pema struggled not to smile as Tenzin dropped the book he'd been reading in his lap and finally broached the subject.
"Mmhmm." Pema carefully pulled Rohan's clinched fist away from her gown and settled the now-sleeping baby in the bed between them, wiping a bit of milk from his chin.
"My sister's always been very free with that sort of thing—"
"Kya enjoys herself," Pema corrected, amused by the blush that was rapidly covering her husband's cheeks. "I've always been a little jealous of that actually."
"Really?" Tenzin's eyebrow raised. "But Lin—"
"Has been far more relaxed in the last few months than I can ever remember."
"I suppose."
"We might have seen the last of 'Chief Crankypants.'"
Tenzin chuckled despite himself.
"Now that she's having lots and lots of sex with your sister."
"Pema!"
"Shhh," Pema scolded. Tenzin looked sheepishly down at Rohan.
"And you know what they say about water benders," Pema teased.
"I'm turning out the light now."
Pema laughed, knowing that the blush had surely reached all the way to Tenzin's tattoo.