Lin headed home immediately after blowing up at the gala. Now she sat in her personal library, in her own comfortable clothes, reading a new book and mindlessly stroking the sealhound head in her lap. Just as she had the first to chapters finished, Tǎoyàn's ears perked up. The chief's defenses rose until the hound wagged his tail happily, leaping off of the couch and sitting at attention by the front door. If Tǎoyàn was so excited, Lin didn't have to use seismic sense to know who it was and so she didn't bother to get up.

"Knock, knock." Without actually knocking, Bolin waltzed through the front door, only bothering to announce his presence so he might get a reply that would help him locate his mother, "Hey, Tǎoyàn." Bolin greeted the sealhound as he entered the house, making sure to scratch him under his collar, "You being a good boy? Where's mom?" The hound turned and made his way to the library.

"So," Lin marked her place as he crossed the threshold, "are you going to stutter through awkward conversation before getting to the point, or are you going to just come out and say it?" She put her book on the nearby table and waited for her son to consider his options. With her annoyed expression and undertone, he thought it might be best not to press his luck.

"Given the mood you're in...I'll think I'll just get to the point." He took the spot next to her, making Tǎoyàn huff,"I know, Tǎo, I got your seat. Despite the fact mom claims that she keeps you on the floor where you supposedly belong." he eyed her, and got a glare in return. That's right, he had business here and he said he'd get straight to it, "What was that about?"

"The kid's not Aang. She's never going be Aang. And they shouldn't expect her to be."

"That's true. But you defended her." He put such an emphases on that because he still couldn't quite belief it himself.

"Don't remind me."

"You kinda like her, don't you?" An elbow playfully nudged her side.

"Hell no." She shot back, maybe a little too quickly, and pushing his arm away to let him know she was still in no mood for any of his teasing, "I don't think anyone should be have to live up to their parent's reputation."

"You mean 'predecessor's reputation'?"

"That's what I said." They looked at each other for a moment.

"No, you said 'parent's reputation."

"No I didn't." Now before Lin said that with the look that she said it with, her son believed it was just a slip up. But his mom looked so downcast at the very idea of being compared to someone else that he just couldn't take it as anything less than repressed and hurt feelings.

"...You know how she feels, don't you? That's why you stood up for her." Unfortunately, there was no way Lin could get out of this. Oh, she could deny it, tell him he was crazy, make him go home, but he'd know. And this would hang over their heads until she broke, so she might as well face the music head-on like an earthbender.

"My mother was a blind earthbending master at eleven. She invented metalbending and helped save the world at twelve. And when she grew up she established the police force here. Then she had me and everyone expected me to be great; a bender with Toph Beifong's blood and tutelage, but with eyesight to avoid aerial attacks as well. Every time I fought, my mom would say 'one day that girl's gonna kick my ass', but she knocked me down until the day she died." Her eyes closed and her mouth formed a sneer, "I was supposed to be the greatest earthbender the world would ever see."

"I didn't know everyone did that to you too." And he couldn't believe it. Him, he could understand, he had to be pushed hard to get as good as he was, and for awhile he thought that even his own mother had given up hope for him. But she was such a great bender, and a great chief. The woman was a bending champion at nine for crying out loud! What more did those people want?

"And you," she continued on as if he hadn't said a word, all the inner rage that she'd been bottling up for the sake of letting Bolin chose his own life came out, "You go around asking for the same thing! You hate the expectations people put on you, but then you join the force?! You think that's going to help?!" No answer. Neither of them needed one. From this day on they both knew how his life would be. He'd be under constant scrutiny by the entire city. They would expect him to raise through the ranks quickly, to be a captain and ready to take over the police by the time his mom retired, "You want to be stuck in a job you'll hate, being watched and judged by a bunch of fools, for what?"

"..." he couldn't think of a thing, "...I won't hate my job." His mom slunk. Putting her elbow on her knee and her head in her hand.

"Why are you doing this, Bolin?" She asked without moving.

"Huh?"

"It was a simple question, Boy." The woman replied tiredly, "Answer me."

"...I don't know."

"That's not an answer." Especially not when he was talking about the rest of his life. He better have a damn good answer before he went through with this.

"Because...I wanna help people."

"There are other ways to help people. Choose one of them."

"But this is what I want."

"Why?" She lifted her head, beginning to get irritated.

"I want to help people. You, me and Mako-"

"Family business?" Her, and her boys. The three of them, serving the people, dealing out justice. It sounds great at first, even to her, but what happens when the newness wears off?

"Yeah," he sort of laughed, thinking that mom finally understood.

"Just. Go." She didn't even know what to say. All she did know was that this was a mistake.

"But," Did he really hear his mom tell him to get out of her house?, "why? What'd I do?"

"Go home, Boy." She went back to her book, found the spot and forced herself to begin reading while her son sat there with that heartbreaking look of his.

"Alright Mom." He sniffed, standing up slowly and taking a few steps, "I'm sorry." It seemed like the right thing to say, even if he wasn't quite sure what he was sorry about.

"No," She whispered after he left, "I am."

This was it, Hiroshi's greatest chance for a high position in the city. All he had to do was get through a meal with Baatar's family without revealing his anti-bender views. Not that this was really something he was worried about, if he could fool everyone Republic City he could certainly fool everyone here.

"Hiroshi, this is my wife, Suyin." Baatar introduced the matriarch of the metal clan, and she wasn't what Hiroshi had expected. He pictured someone around his and his employeer's age, hard boiled and demanding him to kneel. What he got was a younger woman, only beginning to start graying, smiling with an outstretched hand.

"Call me Su." She even dropped formality at the first chance with a her gentle voice. He was truly surprised, but he was a professional and he could keep his face neutral if he wanted, "And this is our son, Baatar Jr."

"Who will be joining us as our junior engineer." Baatar said with a father's pride, the same pride that Hiroshi once had for his own child.

"Really?"he asked with a gentle smile, but completely astonished, "At your age?"

"He may only be sixteen, but he's a prodigy." Su bragged as she ruffled his hair,

"Mom..."

"And this is our up-and-coming artist, Huan. He's ten." The boy frowned and seemed to detest being there. But his mother nudged him, forcing him to say a small hello before looking to the ground, 'He's going through a phase', she mouthed to him before moving down to the next child, "And our lovely daughter opal."

"Hello, Mr. Sato." She said so politely, but also very quietly. Hiroshi bent down to grab the little girl's hand. Giving it a kiss and making her blush.

"And how old are you, little lady?"

"Eight."

"Wow, you'll be a grown woman soon."

"And these two walking sand tornadoes" she had to pull the two youngest boys apart by the back of their collars and holding them both in midair, "are Wei and Wing."

"Hi." Both boys said as they hung passively from their mother's hands. Hiroshi's mask fell and surprise overtook him. But only for a split second before he caught himself.

"Hello."

"It's okay, Hiroshi, it won't hurt them." Baatar caught the look of surprise and mistook it for panic.

"No, no, I wasn't worried." He assured the parents, "She just reminded me of an old friend of mine. She used to pick her son up the same way."

"I suppose a lot of people do. My mother and sister used to do the same with me whenever I gave them trouble." Su explained with a nostalgic smirk, "And I did that all the time."

"Well, that's what all children do best."

"Oh, believe me, I know." She headed for the table, placing each boy in his seat and whispering words of warning to behave themselves.

"As energetic as these boys are now, I don't know how we're gonna handle them if they turn out to be benders." Baatar admitted as he pushed Opal's chair in for her.

"With a lot of patience." They all got situated and the food was brought out. As Hiroshi carried on conversation, he carried himself with all the practiced grace and charm of a seasoned businessman, but he'd be lying if he said this was as easy as he thought it'd be. Suyin picking her boys up reminded him of Beifong, that was the defining moment, but those scars of hers sealed the thought in his mind. And it shouldn't, the two women had two common traits, it wasn't a big deal, "Those are just my badgermole whiskers." Suyin said suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Hiroshi tried to recover, "I didn't mean to stare."

"It's alright." She moved her hand upwards, moving her hair to the side and showing him the entire thing. The three horizontal scars now dominated the left side of her face, beginning just to the side of her nose and stopping just before her ear, "Opal said I look like a badgermole and it stuck. And why do I have these?" That question was clearly meant not for him, but for the table.

"Because you broke the law." All of her children answered in unison.

"That's right. And officers don't fight criminals with kid rocks. Which is why we-"

"Don't break the law in the first place." They replied, bored from having this lesson drilled into their heads so often.