White Knight
2.

Over the past several years, she has come to enjoy the scent of oil and leather; the clang of metal, and new engines rumbling to life.

The birth of machinery.

Men and women, coated in the dirt of their labour, walking by with more and more technology to save.

Batteries to replace, wires to fiddle with, blueprints to study.

A factory, alive with the work of its creators. They love it here. They love fixing things, discovering which is what; the parts that are not in the correct place. Operating on the engine, the body, the heart of of the vehicle, and finding the illness. Mastering a cure.

If she were allowed to, Korra would watch the workers each day. They're admirable, she thinks. How they arrive to work without fault, eight in the morning. Sharp. Eager, excited; racing with grand ideas, and wondrous brilliance they must deliver to their boss.

The Avatar sits atop one of the latest Sato inventions. A plane, capable of gliding across the water for a brief period of time. A useful trick, but a complex mechanism which requires a great deal of study and practice.

So far, it all looks successful. Korra isn't exactly knowledgable on engineering, but from Asami's positive manner in regards to her hard work, things do seem to be going well.

Whenever Asami has her mind set on a new invention, however, that does mean she and Korra spend less time together. Korra can't complain. She's renowned for disappearing for months at a time because of duty. The least she can do is offer patience, even if she misses Asami terribly.

Currently the inspired engineer is busy within the plane, a couple of colleagues helping her out. Korra waits on the wing of the plane, holding her knees, and idly observing the work which occurs. The room is huge. And this is just one room of the factory. Not to mention the Sato company has many more bases across the globe. Since her father, Asami has come a long way.

Busy watching an engineer pour petrol into one of the cars, she doesn't notice Asami and her two colleagues exiting the plane. The two colleagues are given their final tasks for the day, leaving Asami be. Pulling off her gloves, she looks up at Korra, and smiles shortly.

That girl has a knack for daydreaming.

Asami throws her gloves at her, catching the Avatar by surprise. Korra blinks, takes the gloves, and glances down at her girlfriend. A grin appears: 'Y'know, a simple greeting would suffice!'

'Come down. I want to show you our work so far.'

Pleased to be invited, Korra jumps down from the wing. Asami places an arm around her shoulders, and they enter the plane together. Korra widens her eyes at the glamour. Honestly, a plane like this is best suited for the upper class. Lavish, red carpets. Cushioned chairs. And is that a pool table?

Korra laughs. 'You're planning to move in here, right?'

Asami doesn't laugh, but appreciates the joke. It's no secret that Sato vehicles are very easy on the eyes. People love the divine. They enjoy comfort, and luxury, especially if it doesn't demand too much money.

'You wouldn't turn her down. Don't lie to me.' Korra smirks. True: she wouldn't turn down something as grand as this. 'Anyway, nobody ever complained over a bit of amenity.'

Sighing in contentment, Korra throws herself into one of the seats. 'If I could spend my working days just doing this.' The smile falters a little. Everybody knows that the work of the Avatar is anything but relaxing. And not many envy Korra for her so-called privilege. 'You, uh… You've done a good job, Asami.' She shrugs. 'I wouldn't even know where to begin with this stuff.'

'I doubt that.'

Asami sits beside her, and Korra has to admit she looks fetching in her uniform, splattered with oil and today's work. Mind, Asami never fails to look fetching anyway. That's something about her which has always amazed Korra. How somebody can appear lovely, and yet doesn't even have to try.

Since first knowing the young engineer, Korra has always felt soothed by her presence. She is genuinely a laid-back woman, and not much is able to disturb her stable state.

Unlike Korra. The Avatar is aware of her anger issues, how stubborn and defensive she can be. But Asami? She's calm. And sure. A generous, and selfless person whom Korra would spend every day of her life with if she could.

That would be happy. A happy life.

'I won't finish until late today. Are you going to be okay?'

Korra snorts. 'When am I ever not?' Asami throws her a look. 'Hey, that was one time, and I had it pretty rough anyway.' She shrugs. 'Listen, if I wasn't all right, I'd tell you. You know that.'

'I know.' Asami rests her hand on Korra's arm. 'But, I also know you hide things from me––don't think I'm attacking you. I'm not. I'm just here for you. I only want you to understand that.'

'I'm not hiding anything.'

Asami slips her hand away, and Korra hates the sudden absence. Maybe it's pride. Maybe. But Korra isn't a prideful woman. It's simply the idea of being vulnerable. Vulnerable not just to herself, but to another person. She looks at Asami with an apology in her eyes, but she can't bring herself to speak.

Many things are being hidden. Too many things.

Korra leans back in the seat. Brushes her fingers across the armchair, its soft material. Her heart skips a beat, and she forces a smile: 'Fly me away?'

That makes Asami laugh, at least. 'You're ridiculous.'

'I mean it.' Korra swallows. Inhales. 'I wouldn't mind. I kinda wish we could go away together again––somewhere. I mean, I know you got stuff to do here, and so do I, but I wouldn't complain.'

'When we're old and grey, then yes. Sounds like a plan.'

'Does it?'

'Korra.'

They meet in a kiss, and Asami tastes of the coffee she'd been sipping earlier. Instantly a powerful thrill floods through her, and Korra needs a moment to catch her breath. They could kiss each other until the end of time, and she would still need time to recover.

To breathe.

Asami kisses just below her earlobe, and whispers: 'I'll take you anywhere.'

It's the most wonderful idea. Korra wraps her arms around her, and they cuddle tightly. She closes her eyes, and falls into her, wishing her closer. Closer still. For them to shut away the rest of the world, and be in each other's arms like this.

At least for another hour.

Korra breathes her in; sighs.

I dream that I'm a little girl again, and I can't find my way home. I dream that I'm lost, and that I'm going to die. I dream that I will wake up one day, and you will no longer be there.

But she doesn't say anything. Clings onto Asami for only a moment longer, before allowing Asami to return to work. As they pull away, Asami reaches for her hand; squeezes once.

Homeless. That's the dream.

The media eats up the latest news, addicted on hearing about the Avatar's most recent heroic act. As far as Korra's concerned, it's nothing particularly newsworthy, but everybody is desperate to hear.

A band of thugs had entered Republic City, abusing their Firebending abilities, and threatening to rob multiple stores. For the most part, they were successful, gathering as many supplies as they could find until their bags were close to bursting. The police struggled against their skilful bending.

Being able to manipulate all four elements certainly has its uses.

Korra doesn't want to remember what it was like. What it was like to fight, and lose. To fight against herself, her own horrors, and swim to the surface. Sometimes, the waves are so fierce, it's impossible to reach for air.

These thugs are not difficult. It doesn't take long until she manages to subdue them all by herself. Leaving it up to the police to deal with them afterwards, she disappears before the paparazzi arrive.

Nevertheless, the entirety of Republic City knows by the end of the day.

Korra's initial plan is to wait for Asami's return. It is unlikely much will be discussed between them; Asami will undoubtedly be exhausted from today. Still, it's what they do for each other. They wait.

Mostly to pass the time––and, no, she won't follow Tenzin's advice on frequent meditation––she writes to her parents. She doesn't reveal much, but the fact she's returned from her sojourn, she's healthy; no word from Mako or Bolin yet, however she is sure they're safe too. Korra doesn't know if she's prepared to mention Asami; now definitely isn't the time.

She is halfway through writing the letter when fatigue gets the better of her. The Avatar has barely slept these past few weeks, and the urge cannot be resisted. The pen drops her hand, and she's asleep.

And, at first, it's pretty, and bright; and the spirit world ushers her closer. Invites her in, to explore its depths, the mysterious which keep it so vibrant and homely.

Until the little child has to run again. Until all of the bright colours and smiling faces disappear all around her, and the dark reaches out. Grasping and pulling, and desperately trying to grab her. She's small, and her legs aren't able to carry her far, but she's a determined tiny thing, and the dark scares her.

Suddenly, a hand wraps itself around her tiny body, and she falls––

'Korra!'

Immediately Kora wakes up, and instinct makes her grab the nearest thing. What she grabs is lighter than expected, and she hears a gasp; a person. A woman. Korra opens her eyes.

It isn't terror, but shock; concern which Asami expresses. 'Are you okay?'

How can she ask her that? Korra lets go of her collar. Stands from the chair, and holds herself. She's trembling all over, and she can't stop. 'I––I didn't hear you come in. Did you just get here?'

'What's wrong? Did you have another bad dream?'

Korra presses her back into the wall. She feels like the child in the dream; vulnerable, defenceless. Incapable of escaping from whatever that thing was. Korra doesn't look at her, trying her hardest to calm down. Gather her thoughts, somehow fabricate what actually took place.

But Asami isn't a fool. She comes forward, and holds Korra's face between her hands. 'What was that about?'

'I'm sorry.' Korra already starts to feel better, however she's still trembling. The pictures in her mind won't vanish, and she realises she's clinging onto Asami a bit too tightly. 'Sorry, I––yeah. Just a dream.'

'It didn't seem like just a dream.' Korra doesn't say anything, so Asami dares herself to push the topic: 'You were talking to yourself. It sounded like you were panicking, or trying to get away from something, so I had to wake you.'

'No, I––You must be tired. Can I, uh, make you something?'

Asami grabs her wrist before Korra can walk away. 'Hold on a minute.' She won't bother to go into the bizarreness of Korra offering to cook them a meal. She can't even cook for starters. 'What are you hiding from?'

Korra stops.

Hiding from.

Everything. Just everything.

She looks at her, and her heart falls to the pit of her stomach. There's Asami, rings under her eyes, and beyond tired, who refuses to take a moment of rest until she's certain Korra is all right.

They stand, silent, watching the other. Waiting for one of them to speak, but Asami has said all she can. It's Korra's turn now.

'I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable.' Asami closes the gap between them, kissing her mouth. Soft, as always, but too brief. 'I just––' she tries a smile, but it's sad; helpless. 'I wish you would talk to me.'

Hurting her would be a nightmare in itself, and Korra isn't capable to make that a reality. Not after everything they've been through; established together. Not after everything Asami already knows, which nobody has heard about. The trauma Korra suffered, her recovery.

Losing all of that, losing her, is unbearable.

Korra wraps her arms around the back of her neck, and kisses her. Every time Asami is kissed by the Avatar, it's always new. Sometimes tender, sometimes rough, sometimes desperate like this moment. Korra doesn't hold back, and holds onto her dearly.

They kiss again, and Korra pushes herself into her, deepening the buss. She's half conscious of Asami's hands passing her collar, across her stomach. Korra's breath catches when Asami presses her palms into the small of her back, feeling her tense muscles and how she's so stiff. Almost like a statue, needing to be loosened and gently calmed.

Both are tired. Sore from the day, the week; the entire year. Asami finds Korra's hand, and intertwines their fingers. Korra responds to her affection, kissing her cheek, her jawline, her lips again. Asami sighs into the kiss, and brings her arm around Korra's waist.

To balance her, to keep her close; to urge her not to leave.

'I'll talk,' Korra whispers, a slight pout forming. 'Just––gimme time. I'm not good at this sort of thing.'

Asami kisses her again; lighter. 'It'll be okay. Promise; I'll wait until you're ready.'