By the time we reach the front gate of the house, I'm already wondering if bringing Tenzin was such a good idea after all. Under normal circumstances my mother would be glad to see him of course. But with Avatar Aang's recent passing, seeing his son and airbending heir might be a bit painful.

"Something the matter?" Tenzin asks, following me up the stone walkway to the front door. I can tell he's a bit overwhelmed by being here again, and I wonder if it's because the last time he was here it was to tell me he was leaving Republic City.

"I just. . .worry about how my mother will be holding up," I tell him in a surprising bout of honesty. "This must be hard for her.

Tenzin nods gravely. "If you think my being here will disturb her-"

"I don't," I'm quick to say as I unlock the door. "My mother is-"

"Tenzin! Is that you?"

The lights are off and the windows shuttered, so we hear my mother before we see her. A bit taken aback by her exuberant tone, I flick the thoroughly modern light switch on the wall, providing much needed illumination.

My mother is still wearing her mourning robes, though she's let her grey-white hair down out of its chignon and, of course, removed her shoes. She rises from the couch and manages to look somewhere in Tenzin's general direction, extending her hands for him to take.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Toph," Tenzin says, taking her hands. His voice is crisp with the same mix of respect and intimidation I remember from when we were kids. Back then, of course, his encounters with my mother with were usually soon after I'd persuaded him to go along with me on some harebrained scheme. I'm convinced a part of him will always be just a little scared of her.

Legitimate as those reasons are, I can tell Toph is genuinely happy to see him. A tear glistens in the corner of her eye, though she quickly disposes of it with the back of her hand. "You sound so much like him," she remarks.

I clear my throat. "Mother, I told Tenzin he would be welcome here during his stay in town."

"Of course he is." She turns her head back in Tenzin's direction. "Of course you are, Tenzin. Lin can set you up in one of the guest rooms."

"Actually, I have to be going," I tell her. "Police business."

Toph's brow furrows. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine, mother."

I know as soon as it leaves my mouth that Toph can sense the lie. She frowns. "Lin. . ."

"Kuma's apparently been released earlier than we thought. He's the new Black Dragon of the Agni Kais and he's got a bit of a grudge. But I can handle him, just like I did last time." Of course, we both know that my last encounter with Kuma nearly killed me. I'd been lucky to make it away from that one with just a few scars.

My mother sighs. "Very well. When you come back we can all have supper together."

"Sounds like a plan." I step forward to hug my mother goodbye, then turn to Tenzin. "See you in a little while then."

We hug and before I pull back completely he whispers something in my ear. "Be careful, Lin."

Making my way out the door, I flash a cocky grin. "It's Kuma who should be careful." The words come out so easily but a part of me thinks that Toph and Tenzin's concerns are warranted. I run a thumb down the side of my face, feeling the ridged, scarred flesh there. Scars that will never heal.

Then I push all doubt and hesitation aside. I have a job to do.

Republic City
Metalbending Police Headquarters

Police Headquarters is busier than usual but I have neither the time nor the inclination to patiently wade through the sea of officers and trainees going about their daily work. A few judicious applications of earthbending and I've made my way past the bureaucratic hubbub and into the senior offices. I skip my own office and head straight to Captain Jian's.

The door opens before I even have the chance to knock. Jian is still seated behind his simple stone desk, and his perennially good-natured smile is perfectly in place. "Lin," he greets me. "Never could mistake a walk like yours. Not everything's a warpath, you know."

"Today it is," I tell him. "I want Kuma back in prison where he belongs."

"I take it the meeting with the Council didn't go as planned?"

"Understatement of the year. They went over my head to let that sadistic bastard out and won't even tell me why."

Jian nods, scooting back and standing up. "Well, I should remind you that there are other matters you should be more focused on than the one thing that Council doesn't want you involved in.

"Jian-"

"But," he continues. "But, that would clearly be a waste of time knowing how you get when you have your mind set on something."

"Correct." He knows me too well. 'Now how are we progressing with the raids?"

This, of course, a reference to intelligence I've been cultivating from an Agni Kai prisoner-turned-informant for some time now. He's fairly low level, but several days ago he finally agreed to cooperate with the police in exchange for a reduced sentence. Only a few high level officers including Jian and myself even knew of his existence, and I'd kept him under a rotating 24-hour watch to ensure that no communications (or worse) could get to him.

The information that had halved his original 25 year sentence happened to be the secret locations of three different AGK black market energy factories. Of all the Triads' sordid activities, I find this most loathsome. Young firebenders living on the street are typically 'recruited' (i.e. kidnapped) and forced to lightning bend in squalid conditions until they pass out or, in many cases, die. Poor control of the lightning, along with more mundane factors like abuse and malnutrition, condemn these children to short and miserable lives. Meanwhile, the triads profit off of the black market energy and sell it right back into the community.

Three of these factories. I'm practically salivating at the thought. They're often underground and nearly impossible to find. Taking out three in one fell swoop would be a crippling blow from which the Agni Kais would never recover. Not to mention that with a few more informants looking to escape harsh prison sentences, I could make a strong enough case against Kuma to send him back for good.

Jian smiles. "I think you'll be pleased. The prisoner's information checks out. Also, some of the black market battery packs we've confiscated show environmental residue consistent with the reported locations."

"Strike teams?"

"All ready to go, pending your orders."

I don't let it show but I'm once again impressed by Jian's organizational efficiency. One of the few bureaucrats that manages not to give bureaucracy a bad name. My plan was to interrogate the snitch myself, but I'm relieved to see that will no longer be necessary.

If I do this right, I can be back home in time for supper.

Republic City

The Docks

If you want to picture Republic City, you start with the water. It encroaches on the land from the west in a series of spidery waterways spanned by steel bridges. Then there's Yue Bay, a bowl-shaped cutout around which downtown Republic City was built. Future Industries, in all its mechanical splendor, lies here. The golden coast of Republic city, surrounded by slums.

I'm interested in the slums today, a mile south of downtown proper. The cluster of illicit factories we're hitting will be along the waterways. You need hundreds of kiloliters of water to cool the energy reactors and power cells in a lightning factory, legal or not. The legal ones proudly advertise their nature and brand. The illegal ones look like anything except a factory.

The one I'm overlooking appears to be a metalworking shop from the outside. It's nowhere near big enough for energy production, but the real show will be underground. In the meantime, the sounds and smells of what is probably a legitimate metalworking shop help to mask the signs of the space's true nature.

The other two factories we're targeting are disguised as a fish market and shipyard respectively. I wish I could be in three places at once, but I trust the lieutenants leading the raids on the other two. The thing about an operation like this is that you have to hit the sites simultaneously. The Agni Kais maintain a radio communication network across the entire city whose sophistication rivals the metalbending police. Once we strike, the alarm will go out. The rats will flee.

Right into our waiting arms, with any luck.

I key my shoulder radio. "All set?"

*crackle* "Affirmative, ma'am."

*crackle* "Ready to roll."

I nod to the officers behind me. I can see them mentally tensing. Shifting their weight and posture and summoning their metalbending reserves. We're doing a standard sparrowhawk infiltration. springing from the roof of an adjacent building to the shop below. Sound and fury will be the key. No time to fight or plan an escape. If all goes well it should be over in seconds.

Inhale. Then at the apex, diaphragm full of air and oxygen rushing my entire body, I whisper a single word.

"Go."

And then we're airborne. Leaping, suicidally, off of the six-story precipice. The empty panic of weightlessness fills me for a brief moment. And then, like an extension of my body, the prehensile metal coil in my right gauntlet snakes out, hoking into the wooden shaft of an electric pole. The centrifugal force whips me into a high velocity arc. I barely miss the roof edge of the target building. And I release the tether. Weightless again. I'll be impacting with the skylight at something like terminal velocity, so my body starts to prepare, curling into a ball as my armor protectively springs up to shield my head and neck.

The glass shatters but the force still rattles my teeth. My trust metal coil melds with the metal of the skylight frame and my descent slows enough to give me a non-fatal landing on the ground below.

There are cries of shock, outrage, anger. Fear. The stink of ozone is in the air. Skinny, bedraggled youth, practically slumped over filthy generator rods. Lightning benders, squeezed to within an inch of their life.

I don't have the luxury of focusing on them yet. I'm concerned about the overseers. Hard men with braided leather whips, tasked solely with beating the children to within an inch of their lives. Their job is also to raise the alarm. Not if I have anything to say about it.

My lieutenants have entered through the front and back respectively, also through the windows. So I ignore the two overseers on either end, trusting implicitly that my men will get them. I'm focused on the head overseer. He's left his raised platform on the center of the shop and is running to what I can only presume is a radio alarm.

I vault over a railing, propelling myself twice as far by bending the metal in my boots. I land about six feet behind him-

And almost get my face melted off. He's smart enough not to try to outrun me, spinning at the last moment to punch off a sizzling fireball. Almost gets me with it too. Even with an aerial flip that takes me out of the flame's path, I can smell the scorched ends of my own hair.

He's standing on a metal floor facing a fully-armored metalbender. There's a hundred ways I can end the fight. But I'm hot and I'm angry so I do it the old fashioned way. Hands and feet. I ruin his knee with a vicious back-kick, launched the instant I land. I duck under another fireball and pop an uppercut into his groin. He howls in pain, tottering in the wind. So to finish the finish the fight and shut him up, I hop back and wind up for a scything left elbow strike that catches him on the way down. He won't be getting back up.

I turn around, gratified to see that my lieutenants have done their part. One of the remaining overseers is unconscious, the other trussed like a birthday present in metal restraining bands. My lieutenants check in with me for a brief moment, just a quick nod. Then they set to calming down the children.

Except. . .and this is weird. The child laborers are calm. Their vibrations through the ground are all off. No elation, no joy, no anger, no sadness. . .nothing. Nothing but emptiness. I turn to the nearest one, a skeletal, towheaded boy of twelve approaching from behind his voltaic generator station. His eyes betray no life. They are the eyes of an old man. Or a dead man.

I start to hold up my hand. "Wait. . ."

The kid stops and draws back into a stance any bender in republic city could recognize. The prickling on the back of my neck as the hairs begin to rise gives it away. There's a certain sensation that overwhelms the target of an impending lightning attack. It's like an urgent and uncomfortable tingling, screaming at your body that danger is imminent.

I react in time, my lieutenants don't. I leap into the air as the child before me draws back, his hands separating the energy of bending at its most fundamental level to unleash a destructive bolt of lightning. I bend a rod out of the metal floor and levitate it between us, just in time for it to intercept and dissipate the attack.

The energy is blinding. I'm dazed and seeing spots. Every muscle in my body is screaming, tensing, ready to neutralize the threat.

But the threat is a child. With all the effort I can muster, I stop myself from eradicating that boy. A spike of metal stops just short of his exposed throat, and I know that by holding back I've just signed my own death sentence.

The boy summons lightning again. His eyes are crazed. Fanatical. The ozone stink is terrifying. I have no defense.

CRACK

I've heard lightning bending described to me as the splitting of yin and yang. A perfectly balanced firebender can separate these forces, resulting in a devastating burst of energy. But if you do it wrong. . .through youth or inexperience or inner turmoil. . .

The boy is three for three. I stand, helpless and frozen in place as he summons a lightning bolt that he can't release at me. So it's released through him instead, frying him from the inside out. Another blinding flash. The ozone mingling with the smell of burned flesh. And what falls back down to the ground is no longer a boy but a charred husk.

It is only now that I realize the enormity of my failure.

The next two hours pass in a blur. The cleanup is horrifying. My warehouse was pretty much the best case scenario. In the other two, multiple slave workers tried to barbecue my metalbenders. Several child casualties. Two of my men in critical condition with severe burns.

The children aren't saying anything. They can't. Today is also the day that we learn of a new AGK protocol. Slave children have their tongues removed. Easier to protect proprietary information that way. Of course, even without this mutilation I doubt we'd get much from the children. Their brains have been scrambled into oblivion.

The emergency council session is excruciating. Not because of the heat or even the baleful stares of the councilmen and women. Their words sting, of course. But not nearly as much as my own shame does. I've failed my men, I've failed those poor children. . .I've failed Republic City. I feel further than I ever have from being fit to lead the metalbending police.

"It's been quite a few days for you, Lin," Hido sneers, overgrown eyebrows pinching at the center of his jowled face. "Yesterday you show up here, lecturing this esteemed council about our oversight decisions concerning citizen Kuma. Then, apparently nursing the most juvenile of vendettas, you attack three black market energy factories in what can only be described as a foul-up of majestic proportions. You allege, without evidence, that these are connected to Kuma. Of course, rather than proof, all you've managed to bring back is wounded officers and the smoldering corpses of children!"

The Water Tribe representative flinches at the callousness of Hido's words, but issues no corrective. Instead, she fixes me with a disappointed gaze. "This was a rogue operation, Captain. You far exceeded the spirit, if not the letter of your mandate. And you didn't come to us for authorization because you knew we would not approve."

She's correct, of course. Though I don't think I exceeded my mandate, I trust the Council about as far as I can throw them. The odds that one or more of them are on Kuma's payroll are astronomical- informing them of my plans would likely have been the same as sending an RSVP by courier straight to Kuma.

Not that it ended up mattering much.

I wait for the Earth Nation representative to finish before asking to be excused. I need- I need to see my men. And I need to see a friendly face. One in particular, with wise eyes and a rakish goatee, comes to mind.

Hido, dismisses me with a wave of his wrist. "You're on paper-thin ice, Captain. And since you seem to enjoy wriggling out of loopholes in the rules, allow me to be crystal clear: you are to take no action in your public or private capacities against Kuma or the Agni Kai triad. That is an order and so help me if you pull another stunt like this you can become a rock gardener or a damn florist because your law enforcement career will be deader than dead."

I give a curt nod. Whatever it takes to get out of there. Preferably with my job. Preferably without crying. Preferably into a hug from Tenzin.

On a good day it might have been Tenzin waiting for me on the outside steps. Today, however, it's Kuma. His smile is supremely arrogant. Cruel eyes and thinly curled lips. His sleeveless jacket displays rippling muscles adorned with Black Dragon tattoos. His hands are at his sides, not hanging loose but coiled like the martial artist he is.

He's alone- a rare sight for the Black Dragon of the Agni Kais. No security.

And he's in my way.

Our eyes lock and I feel a primal fight-or-flight instinct kick in. Impossible not to, around Kuma. He radiates danger and the memory of the scar he left me never really went away. Still, for a brief, glorious moment I fantasize about bending the stone steps and watching the earth swallow him whole.

He inclines his head in mock deference. "Captain."

My jaw clenches of its own accord. "You're in my way, citizen."

"You know," he says, "normally when a woman blushes, it's from embarrassment. Enjoyable enough, but I don't think you're embarrassed."

"Citizen-"

"Rage, would be my guess. It's flushed your entire face. Almost All except for right. . .here." His left hand rises, its wicked metal claw tracing a line over his right jaw that perfectly mirrors my scar.

Then he steps aside, almost gentlemanly. "I'm not in your way captain." His voice is mocking. Supremely confident. "You are."

Beifong Residence

I arrive home to the sound of dishes being washed, which is odd because my mother has washed maybe two dishes in the last three decades. And also odd because, to my knowledge, Toph doesn't whistle.

But Tenzin does. He's also a touch fastidious. He's lit mildly scented candles and cleaned pretty much every surface in the kitchen. There's the sillage of rice and dumplings in the air, and he's wearing a hilariously undersized apron over casual trousers and a woven undershirt.

He notices me as I enter the kitchen. I must look terrible because the cheerful tune dies on his lips, his eyes widening with worry. "Lin. . ."

It's the look on his face and the tone in his voice that break the dam. The tears come violently, my body shuddering. It's a few seconds before I can pull myself together, and by that time Tenzin has embraced me so completely I never want him to let go. He kneads the back of my neck and shoulder blades, and stays mercifully silent for a spell. No jokes, no questions, just comfort.

"Toph?" I ask, my voice muffled against his chest.

"Asleep," he says simply, the word rumbling in his chest. He draws back, just enough to meet my eyes. "I'll put on some tea."

The evening is a bit warm for my taste, but there always tends to be a refreshing breeze when you need one. . . at least if an airbender's around.

I tell him what happened as matter-of-factly as I can. No sense trying to sugarcoat it. Mercifully, he doesn't interrupt, even when I can tell that he wants to. Tenzin has always been the best listener I know.

"To use children in such a way," Tenzin murmurs. "It's unconscionable."

"Kuma is a monster," I agree. "But he's not stupid, much as it pains me to admit it." I force a laugh, which is a mistake because then the tears really start flowing again. "I mean, wow. . .programming mute, eight-year-old slaves to fry intruders is ruthlessly efficient in a venture capitalist sort of way. Security and commodity, guaranteed to never betray you."

Tenzin steeples his long fingers. "We can at least be thankful that you shut his facilities down."

"Three of them," I correct him. "Three of gods-know how many. Ten? Twenty? A hundred? I was a fool to think this would be anything more than a nuisance."

Tenzin offers me more tea, but I politely demur. The caffeine is already starting to have its effect, which is the last thing I need in my current emotional state. He regards me thoughtfully before speaking again. "Why is this so personal for you, Lin? There are other triads. Other Kumas. Is it because-"

I cut him off with a raised hand, knowing what he's about to say. "You know me better than that, old friend. The scars don't bother me. I've never been that vain." I pause just long enough for him to offer a protest of "but Lin, you're beautiful," or something to that effect. Not his style though.

So I plunge on. "What Kuma did to me is nothing compared to what he's done to others. People I knew. He is different from the regular triad scum. He's a sadist. Beats people to death, or leaves them disfigured and mutilated. Defeating him the first time was the hardest battle of my life."

"You defeated him."

I'm shaking my head before he even finishes. "A fluke. A stroke of the most perfect luck. He'd blinded me with a nasty little firebending trick called a spot flare. Broke my ribs and scarred my face. I threw up a barrage of metal boomerangs, if you can believe. maybe an inspiration from your uncle Sokka. Of course, Kuma dodged them easily and started to slow-cook me in my own armor."

Tenzin looked stricken. "Lin, I-" He shuts up when he sees I have more to say.

"Torturing me was just enough distraction. He managed to dodge most of the boomerangs but one caught him in the neck. Low in the carotid artery. He would have bled out but he cauterized the wound himself. Giving me enough time to get my restraining lashes around him." I inhale, knowing he's going to hate what I say next. But it's something I believe to the very core of my being.

"I should have killed him."

His brow furrows. He's always been serious but he wears his concern in his eyes. Too wise and too sad for his age. I don't let my gaze waver, daring him to challenge me. To tell me that men like Kuma deserve life."

"We've had that conversation before," he says. "Around and around in circles."

"On that we can agree."

A silence settles in, both of us drawing back from an argument. Not the time or the place. And I don't want to fight with Tenzin any more than he wants to fight with me. Besides, the tea is starting to cool.

"You know," Tenzin suddenly remarks, "I studied trauma a great deal during my travels. How it lives, not just in the mind but in the body."

"If this is a segue into a meditation session, I'd rather just go back out on patrol-" I start to stand but then I'm hit in the shoulder by a playful gust of wind, sitting me back down. I let out an involuntary bleat of surprise and whirl on Tenzin, only to see a playful twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh Lin, I know you too well for that. I was thinking a bit of friendly sparring."

"You're terrible at sparring."

"I was terrible at sparring. But I've picked up a trick or two." He says it with a casual confidence that sends an unexpected bolt of attraction through me. This moment, of all times. My hormones really do have the worst timing. Tenzin will never, in a hundred lifetimes, be my match in a round of sparring. But it's kind of sexy that he thinks he is.

"Alright Tenzin, I'm intrigued."

"Better than being sad."

"I'm past sad. Mostly angry now. You sure you want to be on the receiving end of me letting off steam?"

He chuckles and takes a long sip of his tea. "I'll see you in twenty minutes, Beifong."

This isn't the first time we've sparred, as you may have guessed. Aang and Toph used to encourage it all the time when we were kids. Mostly forgettable bouts. Tenzin was never all that martially inclined, and so I would end up chasing him all over the place throwing pebbles and dodging errant gusts of wind. I would usually catch him, eventually, and then after crying 'uncle' he'd sulk off to his books and meditation. . .the things he found really interesting.

That was years ago. We never sparred much as young adults. I actually feel a twinge of worry for him as I wait for him to come out into the stone clearing adjacent to my mother's garden. Open air, but concealed by towering foliage. Perfect for light exercise of this sort. I've changed into loose fitting trousers, cut short at the thigh, and a similarly-constructed athletic tunic. Far more revealing than my usual attire, but the freedom of movement will serve me well. And with no makeup and a sloppily assembled bun, I certainly won't be distracting Tenzin with my womanly glamour.

I extend my senses, focusing on the flow of energy within my body. It pulses at the chakras, like whirlpools in a flowing stream that extends down through my feet and out through my hands, tethering me to the stone surface and the soil beneath it and the rocks and pebbles around it. I can feel the ever-present hum of industry, encroaching even on the garden. Satomobiles whizzing by outside. Trolleys clattering along the streets as railcars shuttle about below the ground.

And a barely-perceptible set of footsteps.

I open my eyes, thinking that it will never be normal to associate a man of Tenzin's size with the light footfalls he produces. Nine times out of ten, they would be a child's. Tenzin, of course, is anything but.

His brown vest is long and sleeveless, open at the chest revealing the slim, yet defined musculature of a habitual athlete. His pants are loose and practical, gathering around his calves. Like me, he is barefoot.

In my attempt not to stare at his abs, I apparently overcorrect. He notes my intense and cocks his head quizzically. "Something the matter, Lin?"

"Not at all." Which, after a few seconds, is true. There will be plenty of time to contemplate Tenzin's new physique. For now, though, the lust for battle reigns supreme.

Tenzin nods. "Rules?"

In response I use my index fingers to outline a square in the air. Thanks to my bending, the rock we are standing on suddenly shifts. A perfect fissure forms in the stone surface, shooting out in straight lines that enclose Tenzin and in a slightly rectangular sparring ring.

"First touch outside loses?" I suggest.

He nods again. "Fair enough. When do we begin?"

In response, I drop into an intermediate earthbending stance. Right leg bent, left extended. I can feel the molecules of the ground itself respond to my call. I can tell by Tenzin's graceful shift into an airbending stance that he understands.

Now!

Author's Note:
Yes, the 'sparring scene' is, by now, beyond parody as a fanfiction trope. Still, it makes me happy to write. As do these characters in general. If anyone is still reading this fic, I should stress that it is slightly AU. I began it before the second and subsequent seasons of Legend of Korra, so I ended up inventing aspects of Lin and Tenzin's backstory that are no longer canon.

As always, apologies for typos/grammatical oopsies.