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[Korra feels like this night is never going to end.

She's been trying, since talking with Chekov, to reign in her temper. She's gotten pretty rough with customers in the past, shoving and kicking and punching on occasion. Stopping that, trying to maintain control without resorting to violence. It's a lot harder than she thought it would be. And like airbending, the harder she tries, the more difficult it becomes. It's done her temper no favors.

Three more hours, one of the girls tells her as she comes off her shift. Korra almost groans with frustration, making the girl laugh. Honey, you need a break.

Yeah. A break. That'd be great.]

[ Hei's at the deep end of the bar, in the crowded dark lounge. His contact for tonight, a chalky-faced guy with a goatee and a bald tattooed head, sits to his left. Like most of the eclectic Underground set, he wears designer shades after sunset. Must be a hacker thing. He's discreetly passed a small package to Hei under the table. An AC adapter fitted with a tiny camera and built in DVR. Handy addition to monitor his safehouses while Hei's Topside. The air is thick with tobacco smoke; the only light glows from behind the rows of bottles on the barshelves. There's a mirror near the array that reflects the rest of the room perfectly. ]

[ It's why Hei picked this spot. ]

[ He glimpses Korra from the corner of his eye. She's almost bristling with pent-up annoyance. Or is it ornery arousal? (No, he suspects he's projecting the latter.) Truth is, this is really not the time for his body to be wanting what it wants. She sparks that familiar itch under his skin, but he's not here for playtime. It's also unlikely she'll be up for a one-sided quickie in the bathroom or the alley. A regular barfly maybe. But not Korra. ]

[ Hei's half-considering the benefits of diluting the itch with another woman. The one to his right, a cigarette in one slim hand, the other wrapped around a beerglass, her red mouth curled at something the hacker is saying, isn't bad. She'd introduced herself earlier as the poor bastard's date. Hei may have missed the memo, but he's positive you don't greet your date's clients with a pretentious cheek-kiss that ends with your tongue in their ear. ]

[ You don't play footsie with them under the table either. ]

[One of her coworkers, sensing Korra's mood, offers to stand in for her for a few minutes so she can slip over to the bar and get a drink. For anyone else, that would mean a little liquor to relax them, but for Korra it means a tall glass of cranberry juice. (The extra sugar gives her a little mood-lifting buzz.)

She's surprised to see Hei sitting at the bar.]

Hei! [She settles on the stool to his left and gives the bartender her order. Coming right up, Fruit Juice. Normally she'd give him shit about the nickname, but tonight she turns back to look at Hei.] When did you get here?

[She's been at the door for the past four hours. How did she not see him come in?]

[ Hei ignores that frisson at the sound of his cryptonym -- he goes by 'Li' to nearly everyone in the City -- and focuses on Korra. Slowly, as if his eyes aren't working too well. (From wicked semi-daydreaming to wanting to snap her neck; what a healthy relationship that transition denotes.) Thank the stars for his companions' pig ignorance and the name's phonetic similarities. She sounds more like she greeted him with a Hey. ]

[ He'll have to make it clear she's not supposed to call him that unless they're alone. ]

[ He maneuvers away from the stiletto pump brushing perilously at his ankle under the table. Of his two companions, the man gives Korra that head bob, and the woman regards her with bland simpering lips. The music is loud enough that the bass feels like a defibrillator; when Hei speaks, his terse voice seems to come up from the floor, rather than beside Korra. ] Just thirty minutes ago. [ Korra was preoccupied with throwing a troublemaker out when he stepped in. ] I was just leaving.

[ Near her on his stool, she feels like a beehive made flesh; Hei can almost feel her wild energy singing along his flank. Suddenly it's hard to sit still and drink; he's both too tired for conversation, and too restless. He should just call it a night and head out. ]

[Korra nods polite greeting to the people he's sitting with, even as she fights down a flare of annoyance. Everything's getting under her skin tonight.]

I hope I didn't interrupt anything. I was just coming to get a drink.

[There's more than a hint of resentment in her voice, mingled with frustration and confusion. So he'll come to where she works without saying hello or goodbye or acknowledging her at all? Does not expecting romance mean she shouldn't also expect some basic courtesy? Is "Hey Korra" too much of a commitment?

The bartender slides over her drink and she gulps it down. She hates cranberry juice. She hates this music. She hates this bar, and the Underground, and this stupid secret relationship where Hei is the one making all the rules and he won't even tell them what they are until she's in trouble for breaking them.

(She hates herself a little, too, for not finding this easier. Controlling her temper, taking care of herself & her friends, navigating her relationship with Hei. Why can't she be more like Aang?]

[ The resentment in her voice matches an irritation that flares from the base of Hei's skull to his toes. He's amazed his drink doesn't vanish in a puff of steam in the heat of it. In a distant part of his mind, he hears Reynard Maxley sneering: That's the shit you deal with when you hook up with an amateur who learns by connect-the-dots instead of common sense. Bed 'em and shed 'em. It's simpler that way. He shakes it off. It's just a bad day for him, where he can't navigate the Dos and Don'ts of what he and Korra are caught up in. Days when Hei can understand what's happening to her and what he's supposed to be feeling and doing, but has no patience or capacity to offer it. ]

[ A friendly hello. Chitchat. A peck on the cheek. He doesn't function according to those superfluities. (But looking at her, he remembers all at once how painfully genuine Korra can be -- in anger or affection. He's said it before: she deserves at least a fraction of that same sincerity.) ]

[ He tips his black-and-tan to his lips, the glass so cold he can barely feel his fingers. The alcohol churns around in his stomach as he tries to modulate his voice. ] No interruptions. [ That, at least, is true. His business here is concluded. ] Are you going right back to work? Or can you spare a few minutes to talk outside? [ There are some boundaries he needs to set. ]

[Korra side-eyes him suspiciously. That's just another way to say We need to talk. She has a sudden feeling that he's going to break off with her again. That seems to be the way he works - running hot then cold, pulling her in then shoving her off.

Whatever. She finishes her juice and turns to the bartender.]

I'm going to take my fifteen.

[The bartender nods, a promise to let the others know she's on break. Korra turns back to Hei and gestures for him to lead on.]

[ Hei slips off his stool, puts some money on the table, and heads for the door, aware of Korra in his periphery. The night outside is cool but not chilly. The air helps clear his head; he scrubs both hands through his hair, rubs his eyes. Stress lines more suited to a forty-year-old appear on his face, then vanish. He bottles his irritation and tries to approach this rationally. ]

[ (In these moments, he truly questions his sanity. Why did he take up with her again? He clearly isn't ready for her, much less right. He has no idea how to handle her impatient angsty brashness -- not unless it's with coldness or blows. She has no idea what an effort it is for him, how exhausted and overwhelmed he is by past failures, and how she pushes those buttons just by being herself. ]

[ Stopping near the chainlink fence, Hei takes a breath. He can still hear music thumping from the open doors of the bar; Korra's familiar aroma mixes with the tang of booze and the stink of urine wafting up from the cobblestones. Flatly, he says, ] Don't glare at me. I just have a request to make.

[Some of her irritation is replaced with hesitant concern as she watches those stress lines appear and vanish. He looks so tired.]

What? [Terse, but not sullen. She's willing to listen with an open mind.]

[ Hei half-turns toward her. Bright secondhand shafts of light, falling through the windows of a nearby store, dapple his face and body, his dark-ringed eyes lit up in a diagonal stripe of red. For a moment he simply takes in the sight of this girl with the open I'm-Listening expression on her face. A girl who, if Hei can navigate a way past professional distance and years of mistrust, might actually be one of the few good things about this City outside of Yin and Mao. ]

[ He keeps that in mind, tries to shake off the stupid tetchiness. ]

When we're in public, don't call me Hei. It's not my real name [ A simple FTR, not a tidbit to assuage any curiosity ] but it's not the name I use when I'm out here.

Oh. Sorry. [How does he keep track of so many names? Geez. Korra really can't imagine having more than her one. But okay. That's easy enough to do. (And certainly not the bad news she'd been expecting.)]

Do I call you "Li," or is there another name I don't know about?

[ There's a very brief flicker of a smile on Hei's lips. Korra's body-language practically projects a sense of That's It? She doesn't realize how important cryptonyms are in his profession, and the sacred rules of tradecraft he's breached by offering her his callsign. Hei. Black Reaper. Kuro no Shinigami. BK201. For many, those names are the last thing they utter before dying. ]

Li is fine. [ He rubs his eyes again, and adds dryly, ] Or yarou. Or filho da puta. Or bái chī. Any name [ or insult, in this case ] except Hei. [ After all, to paraphrase, a molotov cocktail, by any other name, is just as destructive. ]

[She shakes her head.]

I think I'll just stick with Li.

[She crosses her arms and leans against the fence. It's -- not nice out here, with the filth and the stench -- but it's better than at the bar. For the first time all night, it feels like her shoulders are finally coming down from her ears, though she can't even begin to guess how long it will take her to work the tension from her muscles. So used to force and fluid movement, it's physically painful to rein them in.]

[ Hei feels a degree of Korra's tension dissipate. But the usual smooth force that animates her still feels blocked, staticky. Not a girl with an easy mind, this one. She seems to have more and more piled on her conscience each time he meets her. Seem to be more and more rusted, full of broken glass and nails, in a way that he recognizes. In a way, it's like watching Pai -- or himself -- all over again. ]

[ It's then that Hei realizes he's stuffed his own hands into his coat pockets, half-clenched into fists. To demonstrate to himself that he can be at least marginally at ease for Korra's benefit, he spreads his fingers out and flexes them. ]

[ It's not nice out here, no. But far better than other places he's been. His gaze skips to Korra's hair, shiny in the bright-red wattage of the store lights. And to that tight top that molds so snugly around her breasts and shoulders. Just like that, his irritation fades like a summer squall; replaced by a bittersweet greediness for her. ]

[ Keeping his tone casual, he asks, ] Any chance you could extend that fifteen minutes?

[She looks up at him, puzzled. She'd gone into her own mind for a bit and missed any sign that might have hinted at the direction of his thoughts.]

What for?

[ The corners of Hei's lips curl. His eyes are unreadable, even looking straight at her, but neither cold nor distant. Instead they radiate a controlled heat. ] I can imagine your predictable response [ he tells her, toneless despite the expression he pulls -- an uncanny imitation of her usual Oh gross! face. It resettles a moment later into something almost playful, if he were someone other than who he is. ]

[ He draws closer, and there's a beat of silence -- his voice is slower, a little quieter. ]

I was thinking about your mouth just now. [ A noncommittal hum. ] Inconvenient, I know.

[His imitation of her face makes her scowl -- one of her petulant expressions that she doesn't realize people who aren't annoyed with her find adorable -- but it melts away as he draws closer. He mentions her mouth and her eyes unconsciously flick to his lips.]

It doesn't take 15 minutes to kiss me. [She's too distracted by her own growing want to pick up on the innuendo.]

[ She can't read him, but Hei chuckles inside anyway. (He likes catching her unawares. It's always fun to watch her figuring it out, and gratifying to see her surprise in the discovery.) He steps closer, lifting an arm to skate his palm along her neck, the side of her face. His thumb barely traces the shape of her mouth. Then his lips are at her ear, whispering to be heard beneath the dim reverb of music. ]

No. Last time you sucked me off, it took considerably less. [ Vulgar, but delicacy and pussyfooting aren't exactly his style once he's set a course for what he wants. His expression, as much as she can see of it in the striped lights, is wry, amused. She's either going to shove him off, or make than pissy face of hers again. Least Liked Look #36 -- Ugh You Are So Disgusting I Can't Even...! ]

[SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE If Korra's head were a tea kettle, steam would be pouring out of her ears. He can probably feel the sudden heat scalding her face.

She doesn't shove him away, though, or give him #36. Her expression is more like Wait Hold On a Sec Did I Hear That Right? It's hard to be sure with his body so close, driving her to distraction.]

[ That expression on her face right now is priceless. Stupefied speechlessness, as if she can't believe what she just heard. Yet somehow that disbelief, paired with that hot red flush, visible even in the dim lights, sends a jolt of electricity straight down his spine and to every other extremity. ]

[ Hei smiles, not unkind, but in a way that approaches a level of honest affection. Circling an arm around her, he pulls her against him. His lips brush the rim of her ear, his breath just stirring the hairs trailing along her neck ]

Should I repeat myself? [ His tongue circles her ear, lazy and slick, but he goes no further; to outsiders, they look like they're simply engaged in a private discussion. (It doesn't seem fair to keep going, to get even more of a head start than his runaway imagination has opened up.) ]

[Her heart pounds and her blood burns and he has to know there's no way they can go back to his apartment, do this, and get her back to work even if she extends her break to 30 minutes.]

Here? [There might a little catch in her voice. She's caught people doing it in public. Prostitutes on her way to work, and that one really awkward time she went to the bathroom and caught her boss with one of the customers. But she never -- no -- what?

(And yet still... She can feel his erection pressing against her thigh. Despite embarrassment and disbelief, she can't help rubbing her leg against it, teasing.)]

Hn -- [ Hei's breath catches at the pressure of her leg, and the rest of it is choked against a quiet laugh, too pleased to do anything but yank her closer. If she's going to go and make a bad situation worse, it's not his fault if he demands a solution, is it? Still, he hears the unease in her Here? In reply he backs her up against the chainlink fence, tips her head up. Presses hard deep kisses on her, feeling the familiar shape of her mouth through its drugging heat. Normally he wouldn't care if the venue was a reeking alley or a narrow bathroom stall, but he has a feeling Korra wouldn't take kindly to either one. ]

[ On top of that, there's the reminder that a quickie is one thing. Repeatedly treating her like his favorite callgirl is another. ]

[ He breaks the kiss, lips lingering against hers, to murmur, ] I know a place. Two minutes away.

[Her fingers dig into his waist as he kisses her, hard enough to bruise, almost as though she's trying to claw him open. She's got enough frustration pent up inside to light up a city block, and at this moment there is nothing she wants more than to go with him to work it off.

She's just about to say Okay (translation: Yes please) when she sees her boss come out of the bar and look around. Probably looking for her. She groans and bangs her head on Hei's chest.]

I can't. My boss will freak out if I'm late. He hates me enough as it is.[Recent events haven't made him very happy with her.

But......she still has a few minutes. She shifts, angling herself so nobody can see her because she will never hear the end of it if someone catches her doing this. Her hands reach for his pants so she can unbutton them and take his cock in hand. A compromise. She wants a more thorough sequel for herself, though that would have to wait until she gets off from work. (She's not going to suggest this until she has him well in hand, a little closer to the edge.)]

[ The bite of her nails pushes a low hum out of Hei, bit off midway into the kiss. His skin prickles, a hot shiver working its way up his spine. The pain adds a sharper edge to everything, makes each sensation that much more vivid and wonderful, and he absorbs as much of that as he can, the better to ground himself, to stay in the moment instead of barrelling ahead. His own hands splay across Korra's waist, then lower down, pads of fingers digging into her rear; they halt at the unexpected break, then squeeze tight because-- ]

[ For fuck's sake. ]

[ Who cares about her boss? He bites in the urge to say that out loud. He can see the man from the corner of his eye. Casually, Hei presses closer to the fence, half the view obscured by the folds of his long coat. Their location is hardly ideal, but it's better than what he's usually used to, especially in Heaven's War. Better than medical bays and ruined campsides and post-kill fucks in char and blood with corpses barely a few feet away. ]

[ There's a rush of chilled air as she unbuttons his jeans to take him in her hand. His breath catches in the middle of a harsh noise that's gasped into her hair, and there's a momentary embarrassment at how eagerly his erection jerks at such simple contact.The temperature of her palm is cool; a sweet contrast to the heat of his skin. There's a restlessness, a movement, building in his hips, in his whole body, but he reigns it in. ]

[ So long as Korra finishes the job, he's willing to stand there. ]

[I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm doing this. She's not as appalled as she really should be, although that might just be because the reality of the situation hasn't sunk in yet. More than embarrassed, she feels a satisfaction that's both vicious and generous. She loves those twitches and gasps, those moments where his iron control cracks and she's the one who broke it.

She slips one hand under his shirt, to dig her nails into the flesh at his waist as the other strokes the length of him. She hasn't touched him like this in awhile -- not since that first time, which feels like forever ago but it's only been five months. Her grip is firm (maybe too firm?) and she starts off slow. They're pressed so close together, the tip brushes against her pants with every stroke.]

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