One Foot on the Ground
part four

Mako helped Korra push through the first five pages of the forms in half an hour, spending most of his time correcting her on game terminology and rules as she wrangled her way through the last few questions.

"I'll sign it when you're done," he had replied when she asked why he didn't just do so on the document now. "I'm technically not allowed to until it's completed, anyway."

In truth, he'd been procrastinating on writing his signature. It wasn't until they'd sat down at the kitchen table to get started that he realized the rather embarrassing problem that he had placed himself in by sitting next to a girl who'd most likely been taught calligraphy and penmanship by the best teachers in the world, while he himself had never even attended a formal school, much less learned how to write at a level neat or appropriate for most young adults his age. He knew what he needed to know to pay the bills, compete in the tournament, and get him through his and Bolin's jobs, but beyond that…

Well. He wasn't stupid. He just wasn't as lucky as some others. But she didn't need to have that spelled out for her yet.

"Question," she said, and he grunted for her to continue. "In the case of a deadlock, when the round is tied and there's a face-off, say they pick the waterbenders to be the ones to fight against each other and break the tie-breaker. I'd still obviously only be allowed to waterbend, but do all of the other rules still apply?"

"I wouldn't understand why they wouldn't. Which ones in particular are you asking about?"

"The ones about ice, and all." Korra pointed to the rulebook, which he'd laid open on the table between them as they worked through the forms. "For deadlocks it says…" She traced the page with her finger, looking for the passage, and then read aloud. "'The players can use their respective elements, as well as grappling, but no "empty hand" striking, i.e. a punch to the face, or a kick to the stomach,' blah, blah." She looked up. "Still no ice, right?"

"Still no ice."

"What if I – "

"No. Ice."

"I was just curious. Trying to get a little creative."

"We can't afford to be too creative. That's what leads to people tossing over other players over the side of the ring."

Korra huffed out an annoyed sigh. "You're never going to get over that, are you?"

Truth be told, he wasn't really all that upset about it anymore; it had just been the easiest example that sprung to mind that he knew she could relate to. He shrugged.

"You know," she said, "that's the kind of thing that we're gonna fondly laugh over in five years when people ask for stories of my pro-bending debut."

…In five years? In five years he'd be gone. Out of the arena's attic, out of the equalist mess, out of these filthy clothes and shitty back-breaking jobs, out of the garbage bins and alleyways he'd scavenged in his whole life. Maybe even out of Republic, if he wanted. He'd have money for food. He'd have Bolin safe and sound. He'd have his sights set on his future, as always, no longer bound by the social class rung he could remember struggling to climb his entire life.

He wouldn't have time for fond recollections of a past that he'd been trying to avoid looking back on for as long as he could understand that it wasn't one to be proud of.

Mako looked away. "If you say so."

She frowned. "Are you all right?"

"Fine."

"That's what everybody says when they don't really want to talk about something," she said, then sighed. "All right, I can take a hint."

Mako looked over at her as she got back to work, concentrating on the questions again, and then glanced at the old clock hanging above the staircase that led back downstairs. It read 10:16, but given that the thing was about ten minutes slow (which he'd learned through experience his first day living and working in the arena), he figured that they had at most another fifteen minutes before she had to head back to Air Temple Island.

"Okay," she said, "I think that's it. I just put my signature here, right?"

"Mhm."

Korra signed her name with a practiced, elegant flourish – bold and brave and big, just like everything else about her, it seemed – and then pushed it over to him. "Your turn, captain."

Mako took the pencil and a breath. Korra, to her credit, said nothing as he signed the form in his scratchy, sloppy handwriting. His simple name didn't look like much next to her characters – which, of course, indicated her weighty title as well – but it was enough.

"All right," he said, gathering it all up, "I'll bring these back down to the office. That's all I have for you today without Bolin here, so I suppose you should head back before you're late."

Korra bit her lip – an indication that he was starting to learn meant that she wanted to say something – and took a breath. "Listen," she said, "I want to tell you, while Bolin's away…"

He waited.

She frowned. "…Um, sorry. Nevermind."

"Hold on," he started, "you can't just say that kind of thing and not tell me. What is it?"

"Um." She palmed the back of her neck, scratching and avoiding his gaze. "I guess I wanted to apologize."

Of all the things he had been preparing himself for (a lame excuse for not making the upcoming practice, a new development that would prevent her from playing, or – spirits forbid – the announcement that she'd changed her mind and decided that she didn't want to join the team at all, despite his efforts), it definitely wasn't this. Startled for a moment, he asked, "You do?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she said, eyes darting across the room and looking very much like she didn't want to at all.

There was a moment of silence before Mako asked, "…About what?"

"Well." Korra shrugged and motioned with a hand. "You know."

"I truly do not. Enlighten me."

"You're really going to drag this out of me," she muttered, then sighed. "I'm sorry for – er, putting you in this position. I know I'm not exactly your top choice. Your other waterbender probably would've been a lot less trouble."

Mako didn't freeze, but he did feel oddly stiff, for reasons he couldn't quite yet fathom. "It's fine."

"I almost cost you the match." There was no self-pity in her voice. They both knew it was true.

He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands, wishing he had the ability to will this conversation to resolve itself without his involvement. "You pulled through. You won't be a green player for much longer. We'll drill you in the upcoming weeks to make sure you're up to speed."

"…Right," Korra said, "but that isn't really what I meant." She turned and squinted at him. "I'm just saying sorry. As long as we're being honest and all."

"Huh?" he asked intelligently.

"Well, about the mail room and all," she said slowly, like she wasn't sure what his reaction to her next words would be. "Like you said, you guys have to trust me a lot more than I have to trust you. The over-the-side foul wasn't the only mistake I made."

"You don't have to remind me."

She closed her eyes and he briefly considered feeling guilty for letting that slip out of his mouth, but the thought passed relatively quickly.

"The entire reason they know the Avatar is on your team is because I earthbent those disks, right? I didn't even mean to, it just happened. So training myself to just use waterbending may also be a bit… weird." She looked frustrated, as if annoyed that the words weren't coming the way she wanted. "I'm used to having all the elements – or at least water, earth, and fire – available to use. So it – well. I'm not going to say that it's going to happen again, but since you're the firebender on the team I figure you should know that's the element I've been tending to use the most lately. I just passed my firebending test last week and it's freshest in my mind and body. It feels really natural to me so I've been relying on it a lot lately."

This was an interesting bit of news. He wanted to ask questions, but she took another breath to speak, so he kept his mouth shut.

"So I guess I'm apologizing in advance in case I… step out of bounds. Or on your toes. In any way. It'll probably happen a lot. But I know that winning the championship tournament is important to you guys."

Mako caught the way that Korra's eyes twitched across their shabby attic; a movement she probably hadn't even intended to make, but he caught it easily after years of studying his opponents in the ring and on the streets to search for weaknesses.

But he wasn't searching for weaknesses, not anymore. He didn't know what he was looking for in her, why he had humored her playful taunts all morning and offered to help her out when he had never leaned this much for any other teammate that wasn't Bolin.

She had surprised him three times now: first had, of course, been the announcement of her being the freaking Avatar; second, the miraculous turnaround at the end of the match; and third… jeez, now she was apologizing. The Avatar was sitting in his crappy place apologizing for – well – being the Avatar.

…No, not quite. She wasn't apologizing for being who she was (as she shouldn't, he figured). He was still tired and still definitely, definitely not a morning person, but he understood that much, at least. He'd get no apologies out of her for being herself.

But now she knew. And he knew she knew in the way she'd passed over the carton as soon as she'd realized she had been eating his food and the subtle glances at their attic, their clothing, his penmanship. Korra was reckless and brash and hard-headed, but she wasn't stupid. She could put two and two together to get four.

Well.

"It is important," he said finally, and she looked up at him immediately, as if she'd been waiting on the edge of her seat for his response. "For more reasons than most people are aware of. And I know you know that. Like you said, it hasn't exactly been subtle."

She bit her lip. "Mako – "

"I don't need to hear it," he interrupted, and she grew quiet at his tone. "You know why we need to win. And so did Hasook, but he still bailed. I won't deny that…" He sighed, then bit out the next few words. "That it may have been partially my fault he stormed out and didn't show up the next day. But like you said, we're trusting you a lot more than you're trusting us. We're trusting you not to pull that kind of crap that he did in the ring. We're trusting you not to earth or firebend – we'll work on it if you're that worried about slipping up – and we're trusting you not to disappear when we need you.

"There's no pretense here, Korra," Mako said, closing the rulebook shut and shuffling the forms again just for something to do with his hands. "I'm still just as much of a jerk – as you can imagine – and I'm not gonna turn into some swell guy that's gonna hold your hand in the ring any time soon. We need to win the tournament. We need three players to do it. You're here and you're willing to be our waterbender. For the most part, it's just business. I'd rather not make it personal."

Korra was looking at him oddly, as if she knew something he didn't – or rather, as if she had just figured out something that he hadn't yet realized. "Right," she said finally. "Okay."

He blinked. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Fine," he said tiredly, then glanced at the clock. "You've got ten minutes to make the next ferry, anyway, so you'd better get going."

"That's fine, I'm not worried," she said dismissively, and he started to ask why not when she interrupted. "But you don't really mean that, do you? About it just being business?"

He frowned. "Of course I do. What else would it be?"

"I dunno," she said quietly, shrugging. She was fiddling with the pencil, rolling it across the table and back again; he had half a mind to slam his hand down on the thing to get her to stop fidgeting so much, but he relented. "It just feels like more than that."

"Mm?"

"Like… it's more than a game."

"It's a professional sport," he said slowly. "Of course it's a game."

"Yeah, but… I'm just saying," she said. "I've studied the book and I've read articles on your wins and heard you on the radio and seen you play. You put your all into each round. You pushed yourself and single-handedly won the match when your other teammates were knocked out, all because you knew you had to win and there was no other option. That doesn't sound like just business or just a game to me. That sounds like something a lot more personal."

Mako had nothing to say to this. He searched his brain for something to respond with but came up empty-handed, so instead, he simply watched her. The pencil rolled across the table again. A small piece of her hair was falling out of her ties. The clock ticked down; she had eight minutes left. He swallowed.

"Well," he said, but his voice sounded hoarse and indiscernible so he tried again. "Well. Right. But I was talking about it more in terms of… the dynamic between us. As a team."

Korra frowned. The corners of her eyes crinkled in confusion. "You want me to sign a business contract with you guys to join the team? Haven't I just done that?"

"No," he said, frustrated, "I want – or, I wanted – " Spirits help him. He didn't know what he wanted with her anymore. "Nevermind."

"No, no," she said, suddenly grinning. "You don't get to pull that on me now. Keep talking. What were you gonna say?"

"We can't afford for it to be personal," Mako said in one breath. "Okay? We can't afford to get attached. Bolin and I, we're in this to win, and then we're done. You've got to understand that, too. I don't know what you expect from us – beyond being your teammates – but I'm just warning you, it can't be too much."

"…Ah," she said. Her eyes were bright and he could see a white slip of her teeth as she smiled. "Mako, I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. If you wanted to be friends, you could've just asked."

Not for the first time that morning, he was struck nearly speechless. "Excuse me?"

"If that whole speech was just as a cover to say you're too afraid of getting close to anybody that isn't your brother, that's okay," she said. "I can take a hint. But I think I'd like it more if I could consider and trust my teammates as friends rather than business associates."

"Korra – "

"I think Bolin's great," she continued. "I don't think there'll be any tension or anything between the two of us. It's you I'm worried about. Here I was afraid of you judging me for everything I've done so far but it turns out you're just as scared as I am."

Denial was on the tip of his tongue, but it struck him that she was right. Blunt, rude, and way out of line, but she was right.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is…" Korra paused. "I'm willing to make this work if you are. Yeah?" She held out her hand.

They couldn't afford to be friends, he thought wildly, they really couldn't. Bolin was fine with throwing himself around, giving his trust and friendship over to people on a silver platter, but Mako knew it was better his way. He had it drilled into his mindset that everybody else would let them down, that it was a dog-eat-dog world out there, that given the choice, everybody would always pick to save their own skin over anyone else's. Korra was the Avatar, but she was still human; she had to be the same. It was just easier, preparing for that one day when she would let them down, would leave them hanging just like the others. And when that day came, Mako refused to be caught by surprise. He would simply shrug and turn to Bolin and say I told you so.

And perhaps this time it would hurt a lot less.

But Korra…

Korra's hand was still waiting for him.

Dammit, she was ruining all of his plans. She was digging into his fears – for the team, for his brother, for their future, for his own sake – and dragging them out into the open. It was like she had stormed into his life, completely unapologetic, and assigned herself the task of reorganizing his things, rearranging furniture and pressing buttons and pushing the envelope, and then expected him to be grateful for it.

Well, he wasn't grateful for it. He was still tentative and cautious and – yeah, fine, okay – a bit scared. Mako wasn't sure he was ready for her to crack her knuckles and get to work messing around with their team, with the carefully controlled life he'd worked hard to build over the years. He just wasn't ready for her.

But she had happened to him all the same, wild and unpredictable and raw, and there was no going back.

Mako looked down at her hand and bit down on an irritated voice that reminded him that he should have been the one to offer his hand first to shake as the team captain and all. Leave it to Korra to mess and trip him up without even trying.

"Yeah," he said finally, taking her warm palm in his. She had a firm grip as they shook, solid and sturdy. "Welcome to the Fire Ferrets, then."

"Thanks." She grinned and opened her mouth to say something else before –

"M' back," Bolin announced as he wandered up the stairs, Pabu wrapped around his shoulders and a basket of fruit under an arm. "Took me all morning to find a cart with good prices and the best offer I got gives us twice as many as I meant to buy, but I figure we could use the extras for target practice."

"We're not wasting good food by bending at it," Mako said immediately.

"Who said anything about bending? I figure we could drop these on Tahno's head from the roof when he walks in for his match today."

"Who's Tahno?" Korra asked.

"I'll explain later." Mako glanced at the clock again and started. "Korra – it's ten 'till eleven, you're not going to make the ferry."

She laughed, full-throated and bright. "Don't worry, I'm not taking the ferry," she said as Bolin offered her a moon peach from the basket, which she politely turned down with a wave of her hand. "Do you mind if I open your window?"

"Uh," he said, glancing out at the large floor-to-ceiling windows behind them. "Sure, I suppose… Do you want me to walk you out or something?"

Bolin made an odd sound as he walked over to set the basket on the table, something that sounded crossed between a cough and a hastily-designed bark of laughter. Mako would've glared, but Korra interrupted him by shrugging and replying, "You're welcome to join me across the room, if you like."

"…What?"

"I filled out all of the forms, so you don't need anything more from me, right?" she asked as she headed over to the tall windows and opened the hatches on one. A crisp autumn breeze blew into the room and Mako shivered – he hadn't been planning on leaving the arena today, really, so he wasn't prepared for the cold – but Korra looked fully comfortable in the shift in temperature.

"You filled out the forms?" Bolin said, digging into the basket to hand Pabu a snack as the ferret scampered onto the tabletop. "You guys got a lot farther than I thought you would." He turned to the animal and whispered, "This is more than I was hoping for – I was just crossing my fingers they wouldn't challenge each other to an Agni Kai and blow up the building."

Mako ignored him and followed her to the window when she stepped up to the ledge. "No, you're all set with the forms," he responded, wary. "Korra, what – "

"All right, cool. I'll see you later, then!"

Without further warning, Korra leaped outside – Mako barely had time to register what had happened, much less shout or say goodbye, but he rushed to the window, one foot on the floor with the other on the ledge she had jumped off, and peered over just in time to see her bend up a crest of water to soften her fall into the bay. After a moment, her dark, bobbing head arose in the blue waves; he could barely see a tiny arm waving up at him, accompanied by a shout of something – but he couldn't make out what she had said for the life of him, he was so high up and she was so far. Soon enough she disappeared back under the waves again, headed in the direction of Air Temple Island as the sun glittered over the water, leaving him waiting and watching once more.

Mako heard a laugh behind him. He didn't have to turn around know that his brother was sporting a large grin that spread wide across his face; as if he had figured out, as Korra had, something that was beyond his own grasp of understanding, if only for the moment.

"Oh, bro," Bolin said, chuckling as he reached into the basket for another peach. "You're a goner."

fin.

A/N: Aaand that's a wrap! I'm sorry this couldn't go on forever, since I've gotten many reviews recently that indicate people seem to think that it would, but I never was planning on having it even be longer than two parts (hell, I was never even planning on writing the thing in the first place – I scrawled the first part out one night, posted it on a whim, and after I got requests for more I figured why not). Somehow it stretched to three, and then four... But I know if I kept going on now I'd never stop, and I wanted to finish it before we got episode three so it won't hang over me while I'm watching the show, knowing that everything in this fic is officially deep into AU territory.

Thanks much for all the lovely comments! Hope you enjoyed.