A/N: So I worked on this over the weekend. I wanted to post it yesterday but it became a bit longer than I expected. Let me know what you think!

Rated: T for some language

Home

A strangled scream gushes from my lips, my hands balled into fists as I collapse onto a bench. My feet are killing me after hours of walking, and I'm worried my spine will crack in two any second. I can barely contain my frustration now that we're back to square one with this house hunting business. And it doesn't help that I've been carting around a belly the size of a bowling ball all day.

Bolin takes a seat beside me, gently placing his hand on my thigh. What used to be pure muscle is now covered in a layer of fat, this kid has me eating so damn much. I never thought I could hate food, but the early weeks of my pregnancy I couldn't stand to look at the stuff, and now I'm constantly filled with this urge to stuff my face with everything in sight. "You alright, sweetie?" he asks.

"I'm hot, I'm tired and this kid wants food now!" I growl.

"I-I'll go get you something to eat then!" he stammers, quickly retracting his hand as if I might make that my next meal. I've bitten him once before in a hunger induced craze, so his fear is not irrational.

As if I couldn't feel any worse, that stammer in his words spears me with guilt and I hate myself for taking my frustration out on him. Summer in Republic City is really an awful time to be pregnant, especially for a girl from the South Pole. It's not his fault the weather decided to be a bitch and boil me alive, but even though I'm sweating in all of my crevices that's no excuse for blowing up at Bolin. "I'm sorrrrry," I apologize, though it comes out as more of a childish groan.

"No, it's okay," he says, waving me off. "It's been a long day. You just rest, and I'll be back in a bit." He presses a kiss to my sweaty forehead before speeding away to find a food cart. I still feel bad for being such a grouch, but at least his task won't be too difficult. There's always a ton of street venders toting their businesses in Republic City Park.

I watch as Bolin hurries off over a bridge and feel a flash of heat pierce through me that I'm not sure is caused by the warm weather or the view. Spirits, I've never felt more emotions in my entire life. And I can't tell from one minute to the next what my body wants. One second I can't stand to be near Bolin, the next I want him so badly I can barely function. If this is what it's like to be five months pregnant, I'm not sure I want to know what the later months will be like…

The pressure in my legs lessens and the ache in my lower abdomen lets up now that I've gotten a chance to relax. I crack my neck from side to side and let my head fall back on my shoulders, fanning myself as I take a deep, steadying breath in through my nose and slowly let it out through my mouth. I rest my hands on my swollen belly out of habit, feeling the life inside push back against my palms. All this stress isn't good for the baby, and I frequently find myself having to practice the breathing exercises Pema suggested to me. But I can't help feeling anxious when I know in just a few months Bolin and I will be parents and we're still stuck at the tiny apartment we moved into together over a year ago. We're going to need a real place to live and soon. I'm not about to let my kid sleep in a drawer, so it's been a mad dash these last two and a half months to find a home where we could raise a family. And we've had zero luck so far.

I've just about reined in my annoyance at our latest failure of a real estate agent when I see Bolin return holding a couple skewers of meat. I recognize them as the delicious mango-pork kebabs I used to love so much when I could actually make it to the park with Naga on our walks.

"I love you," I sigh, nearly on the verge of tears. My mouth becomes wet, my stomach responding to the sight of food with an animalistic growl. Drool escapes from the side of my mouth and I can't resist swiping a pork chunk from a skewer with my lips before Bolin even has a chance to offer it to me. My eyes practically roll up into the back of my head as mango and pork flavors bloom across my tongue. An obscene moan vibrates at the back of my throat which gets me some disgusted looks from women passing by with their young children.

Bolin sits and hands me a skewer as he seizes a mango chunk between his teeth. His muscled arm comes around me and I lean against his shoulder, kicking off my shoes and letting my legs stretch out across the length of the bench.

"What are we going to do now?" I ask, chewing through a bite of sweet mango. Within seconds, nearly half of my kebab has vanished. I'm already selfishly longing for Bolin's kebab, still deliciously stacked with meat and mango, and I haven't even finished my own yet.

"I don't know," he says, chewing thoughtfully. "I don't think there's an agent in all of Republic City who will want to help us."

"Whatever," I say, aggressively snatching the last bite of pork from my skewer with my teeth. "We're better off looking on our own anyway."

I've never felt more cheated than I have in getting mixed up in this real estate garbage. All of the fools we've hired kept pushing junk we weren't interested in, and I figured it was because they just wanted to make some coin by selling us one of the more expensive properties. I wasn't absolutely sure until today when this ditz with too much makeup tried to persuade us to buy a $2,000,000 estate in the mountains. Thirteen bedrooms, eleven and a half baths, frigging indoor swimming pool… I may be the Avatar and Bolin may be a professional probender, but even we don't have that kind of money.

Without warning, Bolin snatches the wooden skewer I'd been sucking on from out of my hand and flings it into a trash can next to us. I'm about to punch him until I realize that he's offering me the last half of his. "Oh," I say, crisis averted as I happily take his leftovers. I settle down on my side and rest my head in his lap, enjoying the feel of his fingers combing through my damp hair which then trail down and work into the tense muscles of my neck.

I don't know why everyone keeps trying to take advantage of my status as Avatar, trying to sell us junk that's way out of our budget and doesn't even come close to fitting our needs. I sigh and close my eyes, envisioning a modest sized house not too far from the city with a bit of yard for Naga and the kid.

"What sort of place do you want to live in?" I ask, taking one last bite of mango flavored pork before tossing the trash away. "What's your dream home?"

"Anywhere I'm with you," he answers pleasantly.

I give a huff and roll over onto my back, feeling the weight of my midsection pressing down on my spine. Another month or two and this position will be really uncomfortable. "I'm being serious, Bo," I say, staring blankly up at him.

"I am serious!" he cries, green eyes widening.

"Okay, but it doesn't help me get an idea of the kind of place we should be looking for. We're going to have a very real child in just a matter of months. I need to know what you want."

His fingers lightly stroke my cheek, and move to sweep the hair away from my eyes. "I don't care where we live, Korra," he says, "as long as you're with me."

"So then you won't care if we're living in a box on the street in a few months?" I complain, my voice and blood pressure rising. "Because at the rate we're going we won't have anywhere else!"

"Well," he says, and I almost want to slap him for seriously contemplating my sarcasm as if it were a legitimate question. "It'd be hard with the baby and all, but it's not like I haven't lived on the streets before."

Those words make the building scream of frustration die right there in my throat.

The only reason we were even searching for a new place was because I'd demanded it. It'd been me whining about how cramped our place was, how there was only one bathroom, that we'd need another bedroom for the baby, how much I hated that pets weren't allowed in the building…

And Bolin had never been unhappy.

"You are my home, Korra," he says, weaving his fingers through mine. "A house… it's just somewhere to sleep at night."

"You're my home too, Bolin," I say, choking back the lump in my throat as my vision blurs. My arms reach around his shoulders, and he bends to let me hug him. His muscular arms come around me, squeezing me tight, and I hide my face in his neck, breathing in the earthy scent of him.

I could live without so much…

But not him.

"Despite what I just said however, I really don't want to raise our baby in a box on the street," he says into my hair.

A strangled laugh erupts from my lips and I rub the wetness from my eyes. "Me neither."

"So…" he says, cupping my belly in his giant hands. "You think he or she would like a great big yard to play in?"