[MAKE OVER OR OUT] Part 3— Girls Just Want to Have Fun

A/N: After a year of hiatus, I finally managed to plot the rest of this story! It'll probably take me a while to write, but I'm determined to complete this fic now that I have the ending all planned out. Thanks for all the reviews so far; they're really encouraging!

"Please get out of Oogi already. I need to lock the door."

Korra reluctantly stepped out of the tan-coloured family van, only half-listening to Tenzin whine about being late. With dread weighing down her Ugg-booted feet, she trailed behind him as they crossed the parking lot that lead to Future Agency's headquarters. When they finally entered the building, the usual fashionista chatter buzzed in the air and Korra tried to tune out her surroundings by staring at the back of her mentor's bald head. Her eyes narrowed with envy. For the past few days since she had lost her beloved hairclips, her neck felt unbearably hot from the thick long hair that draped down and stuck to her skin. It was suffocating and itchy and Korra was going to kill Amon when she saw him and then take back her clips and, and…

"If she hasn't left already, she is going to kill us for taking up her time," Tenzin said harshly. It shook Korra from her thoughts and the world outside of her head came into view like a blur image shifting into sharp focus. She watched the elevator doors slide open to unfamiliar territory.

Her mentor's robe billowed as he quickly rushed out without a backwards glance. The orange-red fabric continued to flap behind him at every urgent stride, gliding through the air. Korra also picked up her pace, but as they turned the corner, he abruptly stopped in his tracks.

Up ahead, a woman with the steely attitude of a runway model was walking towards them, her long grey trenchcoat moving lightly to the sway of her hips. She looked fit for the outdoors which indeed confirmed that she was on her way out. From the high arch of her thin eyebrows to the heavy footfalls of her metallic boots, this woman meant authority.

As they closed the distance, Korra heard Tenzin take deep of breath from the nose. "Lin, you are looking radiant as usual."

"Cut the garbage Tenzin, why is the Avatar on my floor? I thought you were supposed to stay downstairs to transform her."

"Yes, we are usually downstairs, but today we have a pressing matter that requires your area of expertise. We need an outfit for Tarrlok's gala tonight. It's going to be held in Korra's honour, and—"

"Wait, whose gala? And what? My honour?" Korra prodded him. "How come I haven't heard about any of this!?"

"Did you not read the card that I left on your desk? After you scared the wits out of that poor assistant, they left the invitation in my mailbox—"

She recalled the memory of the brief encounter and then fought back the devious smile that nearly crept on her face. It had been quite funny. The ambiguously-gendered excuse of a human had dared to crawl into her suburban haven, so Korra dealt with them the way she would towards any pest: she scared them off with a mere stomp of her foot, as if the floor had unearthed and made them stumble to the ground.

"—and I even explained it again in the car ride here, repeatedly. Can't you ever listen?'

"I am listening. You're the one making things so vague."

Tenzin sighed and turned to Lin. "The gala starts at six and knowing Tarrlok, there will certainly be press. I think he's up to something, but I'm not sure what."

The stern woman gave Korra a quick once-over, her green eyes staring a little longer on the worn-out navy blue sweatpants. "The girl certainly needs work, but I don't have time for this. I'll leave her to my assistant. His office is down the hall, two doors to your left. He's new on the team, but he sure knows how to climb the ladder in this industry. He even caught the attention of President Sato's daughter."

"That sounds great. Thank you, Lin." Tenzin flashed her a big smile and Korra saw the hint of a smirk on Lin's face. The woman didn't seem as intimidating as their initial impression, so she felt safe asking a simple question.

"So Lin, do you know where I could find Amon?"

All amusement vanished from her eyes; lips formed back into a strict line. "Amon? That insufferable elusive bastard? Of course not. He never lingers around when he has a contract here, and in all of my years of service for this company, I have yet to run into that stealthy prick. Why do you ask?"

Tenzin also looked at her curiously, but he didn't voice his concern.

"Oh, it's nothing," Korra replied, rubbing the back of her sweaty neck. "I just…umm, wanted to be sure where my enemies are?"

Force and restraints weren't necessary to tie her down into place because Korra's limbs seized up at the sight of the young man that greeted her at the door. Her wide blue eyes didn't rove from head to toe like an adept fashionista; instead, she was stuck on the handsome face composed of dark strong eyebrows, honey-amber irises that pierced like a bolt of lighting, and high cheekbones tapering down to a sharp clean-shaven chin. She was glad that Tenzin had other things to do downstairs since she wouldn't have wanted anyone to witness her weakness towards this golden boy. If more men like him existed in the fashion world, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad place.

The eyebrows that she was admiring however dipped into a frown which reminded her of another certain someone who also had a conventionally beautiful face, also with strong brows and killer bone structure, but with pale blue eyes that stabbed like a shard of ice. She shuddered and corrected her previous statement: the fashion world was a bad place because men like them existed.

"—that's a crime."

"Excuse me?" Korra took the defensive, not even knowing what the young man was accusing her of. "Who do you think you are? The fashion police?"

"Look, fur never goes out of style, but it's just not the right season. A brown cardigan trimmed with white fur can look nice if worn correctly. Never tie it around the waist while wearing sweatpants. They did it in the 90s and it was horrible, ugh, just, a burn to my retina." He turned around and headed to his desk. "Anyway, who are you exactly and what are you doing here?"

His arrogance hit a nerve, but she didn't raise her fists just yet. "Lin referred me to you. I need an outfit for a gala tonight…"

"Gala? You wouldn't be talking about the Bloodbender's event, would you?"

"I dunno, it's going to be hosted by some guy named Tarrlok and it's in my honour."

"Your honour?" He paused to think and then breathed out, "You're the Avatar."

Korra smirked and crossed her arms confidently over her chest while he continued to rant.

"I'm such an idiot. How could I forget! Asami told me that the girl causing mayhem for the past few weeks was the Avatar, and I totally remember that atrocious attire, so when you walked in here, I knew you looked familiar." He rummaged through a drawer and took out a silver keycard. "Okay. Let's go to the wardrobe room. It'll surely have something to replace those rags. Oh, and in case you didn't know, I'm Mako, by the way."

He didn't offer a handshake or even a polite nod with his introduction. He really was a rude piece of work. Biting back her anger for the second time, she stepped back into the hall and let the jerk lead the way to their destination. They walked without engaging in any more conversation; only the soft echo of their footsteps filled the silence. This floor seemed rather desolate compared to the annoying bustle that usually grated her ears: no gossipy assistants, no intimidating businessmen yapping furiously on their cells, not even a single bodyguard was in sight. Korra relaxed her shoulders as she exhaled a sigh of relief. Mako was tall with a decent built, but she was sure that she could take him on if push came to shove.

They arrived in front of a door that didn't look any different from Mako's office. The room's interior however greatly differed.

"That's a lot of clothes," Korra said, slightly awed by the innumerable racks of lush clothing. "How the hell are you going to pick something out of all this?"

He rolled his eyes and flipped his red scarf over his shoulder. "Oh c'mon, girlfriend. I'm a prodigy. Even Amon would agree."

A pile of undesired outfits was steadily growing larger while the rack of potentials slowly dwindled. Mako worked in near-silence, only offering a grunt or a nod here and there, sometimes even a mocking snort, and if it weren't for his good looks, Korra would have punched him ages ago. Dress after dress, she however became increasingly unfazed by the amber eyes scrutinizing her body critically. His beauty was losing its effect.

She walked in front of the tall mirror and, to her surprise, she genuinely smiled at her reflection. Her current attire consisted of a deep red asymmetric skirt paired with a black sleeveless top collared like a traditional cheongsam. The green jade accessories were also a nice touch. "Not bad," he muttered behind her.

"Geez, what does it take to impress you?"

"What?" He frowned. "I said, not bad."

The subsequent outfits were all wrong in colour and shape. To Korra, she didn't understand why they would continue to search when she had already found something that she liked. To Mako, he apparently could never settle for just one thing; no matter how amazing, beautiful and rich it was, there was always something better out there, more powerful and divine. After trying on more bizarre combinations, Korra's patience was reaching its limit; she was about to scream and finally let out her anger, but the last outfit was so ridiculous that it actually made her laugh out loud.

Looking in the mirror, she thanked her killer swimmer body because the 'garment' only hid the bare necessities with spherical translucent shapes resembling bubbles. It looked like a cartoon version of a girl coming out of a bath. Aesthetically and pragmatically, it didn't make any sense.

Mako sighed. "We need to talk. Sometimes this can be so infuriating."

"Save your breath, you've already made it clear that I'm a lost cause."

"No. You're not. What I'm trying to say is that as much as that dress does look crazy, I also think it's pretty amazing."

"So, you do like it?"

"Yes. But I like the asymmetric skirt too. I dunno, things are complicated. I'm feeling really confused and—"

Korra snorted, very loudly. She officially had enough. "Thanks. I think I'll wear this then."

"Umm, really?"

"Yes," she said firmly, forcing a smile to hide her sarcasm. She walked in the dressing room to retrieve her 'rags'.

"Well then…Good choice, girlfriend!"

Still wearing the bubble dress while clutching her comfy clothes, she bolted towards the door and ran down the empty hall, in search for the fire escape. She may have been on the 21st floor, but an athlete would never cower at the spiral of stairs awaiting her bare feet; she strode down multiple steps at a time, managing to overcome seven flights in less than a minute.

The tight plastic bubbles rode up her thighs and she made no effort to push them back into place. Instead, she pulled them higher until they bunched around her waist so that she could slip on her sweatpants and boots. Assuming that the fashionistas were too cool for the emergency exit, she began to strip off the rest, pulling the crap over her head as she continued her descent. It however jammed around her neck, and she cussed loudly as she was blinded by the 'fabric'. In her frenzy, she missed a step and accepted her fate of falling face-first, or rather, chest-first since she triumphantly arched her back as she managed to finally free her head from the suffocating bubble dress.

Her chest did not land on the cold concrete. In fact, each breast fell into a pair of warm large hands that momentarily groped, and then quickly pushed forward like a game of hot potato.

The force made her stumble back, her ass hitting the floor with a loud thump. She brushed away the nest of dark hair obstructing her vision, ready to throw a death glare at the person before her, but she immediately faltered at the sight of pale blue eyes. She screamed.

Indeed, she had been looking for Amon and she had vowed to kill him when she saw him next, which was technically now. She needed mental preparation for the task, but Korra was nevertheless a creature of instinct so she could at least perform the next best thing: her Ugg boot aimed between his legs, the hook of her ankle fitting dangerously snug in his crotch.

Vaguely registering a thunderous groan that echoed throughout the stairwell, she lunged down the remaining flights at record speed and slammed open the heavy metal door that lead directly outside. She was a heaving mess of sweat and panting, clutching her shirt as she caught her breath. The open air bit her bare skin, so she quickly wriggled into her top.

"Fuck," she swore to herself. "I dropped my cardigan!"

There was no way that she was going to climb up those stairs, knowing full well that it still housed a certain pissed off monster. She may be impulsive, but she wasn't that stupid and it was probably unwise to linger around too long. Ditching Tenzin's ride, she rushed towards the bus stop with her hips feeling a little exposed by the lack of her cardigan that usually kept her warm, and safe.