Chapter Text
“Should we just bring all the floaties?”
Korra tilts her head to one side, studying the trunk of the car—van would be more accurate—already overflowing with beach memorabilia—towels, coolers, umbrellas, and floaties. And this is Future Industries’ largest available vehicle. Asami checked.
“I’m not sure we can, ‘Sami,” Korra says with a chuckle. Naga barks her agreement from her third row spot, her head poking out of the car’s open roof. Korra bumps her hip fondly against Asami, who’s tapping a pen against her chin thoughtfully, a pad of paper in hand. “Unless you want to go in two cars,” she suggests ironically.
“Oh, should we?” Asami lights up, starts scribbling some diagrams on the paper. “That way we can take the new fan contraption I’ve been working on. You know, it’s really supposed to be a very strong UV index today and—”
“Asami.” Korra stands in front of her, holding her gently by the shoulders. She smiles when Asami blinks at her, green eyes confused and worried. “You’ve been to the beach before. You don’t have to worry so much!”
“Yes, but this is—I don’t know, Korra.” Her shoulders sag in Korra’s hands, and she blows a stray strand of black hair away from her face. “This is like your family. I don’t want Meelo to get a sunburn or Master Katara to not be comfortable on her beach chair—or, or something!”
Korra's smile softens, her thumbs gently brushing over Asami's upper arms. “You know, for someone who can wrestle business moguls and pilot prototype mechs in her sleep, you’re surprisingly nervous about a vacation.”
“It’s not just a vacation,” Asami mutters, tucking the pen behind her ear. “It’s your family vacation. I want them to like me.”
Korra lets out a warm laugh, pulling Asami into a hug that squishes them both slightly against the edge of the over-packed car. “They already like you, dummy,” she says into Asami’s hair. “Bolin and Opal will be there. Jinora practically worships you. And Meelo... well, Meelo keeps trying to give you nicknames, so I think that counts as affection. And those are the ones you really have to worry about winning over.”
Asami snorts, relaxing against her. “He called me a greaser last time. Apparently, it’s from a book he’s reading.”
“He’s reading?”
They laugh, and Korra manages to convince Asami to remove a few things from the car (“I’m sure they’ll bring extra towels with them!”), while the early morning sun climbs higher in the sky. When everything is packed and ready to go, Korra sighs, places her hands on her hips, and squints up at the bright sun.
“It’s a good day for the beach, hm?” Asami says, adjusting her big floppy hat.
Korra takes a moment to admire her girlfriend’s comfortable vacation attire: her swimsuits are packed for when they arrive at the resort, but her flowy white summer dress reveals her pale shoulders and collarbones, radiating her effortless beauty.
Korra plants a quick kiss on her cheek, smiling at Asami’s soft oh!, and says, “A good day to relax. I’m really hoping to wash away all the worries of the past month.”
“Yeah, that business with the park redevelopment really drained you, huh?”
“Nope, nope!” Korra takes Asami’s hand and leads her to the car’s front door. (Asami, of course, always drives—though Korra’s learned enough to not kill anyone at this point.) Gallantly, she pulls it open with a bow. “From here on out, no work talk. Only vacation.”
Asami chuckles and does a little curtsy before she gets in the car. “Why, of course. Only vacation.”
~
Republic City has some small beaches (such as the ones on Air Temple Island), but none of them are suited for this weekend trip. The drive to Naksuka Cove is two hours, which they all agree constitutes a road trip. With Naga enjoying the third row to herself, her tongue lolling out as she pants through the car roof, Korra and Asami pick up Bolin and Opal on the way—the Air Temple kids are flying in with Katara and Toph (who wanted to catch up with her old friend) on Oogi, and the others (including Mako and Wu) are joining them the following day.
“Something about a tough case Beifong’s got him on,” Bolin complains in the car, pouting from the backseat. They’re twenty minutes out of Republic City by now, the fresh summer breeze whipping at their hair through the open roof and rolled-down windows. “‘Duties of being a captain,’ or whatever.”
Opal squeezes his bicep in comfort. “He’s coming tomorrow. Besides, that just means you and I get to spend more alone time together.”
Korra makes a big show of gagging from the front seat as Bolin’s ears turn red. Asami only shakes her head. “Am I glad we have separate rooms.”
“How fancy is this resort anyway, Asami?” Opal asks, tactfully switching the subject as Bolin struggles to recover.
“Oh, nothing crazy. Though, I can’t say I’ve actually seen this one yet. Varrick took care of it.”
“Varrick?”
“One of Varrick’s and my shared ventures was combining cross-continental travel with lodgings. Vertical integration, and all that.”
“What’s that?”
“No!” Korra cries. “Don’t even get her started on that—”
“Vertical integration is when one company controls multiple steps of the same production or supply chain,” Asami says sweetly, already shifting into her business voice despite Korra’s loud groan.
Bolin leans forward between the seats. “So, like… you and Varrick own both the airships and the places people stay after they ride the airships?”
“Exactly!” Asami beams. “It cuts down on middlemen, streamlines logistics, and improves customer experience through unified brand oversight.”
Korra slouches deeper into her seat, pulling her hat down over her face. “I told you not to get her started,” she mutters. “I’ve heard the pitch to the board a million times.”
Opal giggles. “No, I kind of like it. It’s like learning a new bending style, but for capitalism.”
“Ooh, look!” Bolin squeals, pointing out the window. “Ostrich-horses!”
They all turn in unison to the left, exclaiming little appreciative ooh’s and ah’s for the herd of ostrich-horses on the green.
“Aw, look at the little one!” Opal coos.
“So fluffy!”
They pass the next hour or so winding through hills and forest and spot another herd of ostrich-horses, along with a lone eel hound that Korra spies between the trees when Naga barks up a storm. The road begins to slope, winding closer to the ocean. Between breaks in the cliffside trees, sparkling blue waves flash like light through a kaleidoscope. Bolin rolls down his window further and leans halfway out, catching the salt-laced breeze with his tongue like Naga.
“I can taste the vacation!”
“Opal,” Asami warns.
She hauls her boyfriend back by the shirt. “If you fall into the sea, Korra is not waterbending you back up.”
“I think I would—”
“No, she wouldn’t,” Opal says firmly, sending a smirk over to Korra that says, This is how I get him to behave.
He behaves well enough for the twenty more minutes it takes to drive into the beachside town, all quaint wood-siding houses painted in pastels, sun-bleached boardwalks, and swaying palm trees. Asami maneuvers their bus-like vehicle smoothly through the paved roads as if she’s been driving vacation tanks all her life. Korra leans her cheek against the window, watching as the town rolls by in soft, sun-washed color: cotton candy umbrellas folded neatly on patios, hand-painted signs offering “Fresh Juice & Fried Dumplings,” and kids in swimsuits darting between sun-dappled alleyways engaged in a water balloon battle.
“Man, this place is something,” Bolin says, echoing all their thoughts.
They pass the town square—an open market in the mornings, apparently, but now cleared and home to a circle of brightly colored kites flapping on tall poles. One of them is shaped like a flying lemur. Another looks suspiciously like a caricature of Varrick.
“Of course he got a kite made of himself,” Korra mutters.
“I bet it talks if the wind hits it right,” Asami says, deadpan.
Bolin’s eyes sparkle. “I want one.”
“No,” Opal and Korra say in unison.
A minute later, the road splits toward the cliffs, and Asami steers them down the one marked with a hand-carved sign: Naksuka Cove Resort – Guest Entrance. The drive curls downward, into a narrow valley lined with bougainvillea and fragrant yellow hibiscus. They break through the treeline, and the ocean spreads before them in full glory, sapphire and sunlit and endless.
Korra sits forward. “Whoa… This is a great location, Asami!”
The resort is terraced into the cliffside like it grew there naturally: soft white stone, shaded awnings, wooden decks suspended over quiet tidepools. The guest bungalows are round and low-built, painted in ocean tones and clustered like seashells. Hammocks sway in the breeze. Off in the distance, someone is playing a calming melody on a bamboo flute.
Asami eases them to a stop at the main entrance circle, where two attendants in patterned linen uniforms approach with practiced bows.
“Welcome to Naksuka Cove,” one says cheerfully, his clipboard already in hand. “You must be Miss Sato. Your party’s bungalows are ready.”
Asami steps out of the car and hands him her keys. “Thank you. The remainder of our party should be here any moment…”
Korra tries to pay attention to Asami’s logistics talk, but there’s a bit of a commotion going on in the back of the car.
“Naga, no! That’s my floatie! No, you can’t just—”
Korra shoves her door open and jogs around to the back of the car—just in time to see Naga gleefully tugging Sir Splash-a-Lot, the tiger shark floatie, out of Bolin’s arms like it’s her new favorite chew toy.
“Naga!” Korra calls, but it’s already too late.
With a victorious whuff, Naga tosses the floatie into the air, snatches it mid-spin, and jumps out of the van, bolting toward the wide lawn beside the main path. Bolin cries out a mournful no! and throws himself out of the car, trailing after her in a dramatic flail.
Korra looks over at Opal, who appears unbothered, methodically gathering their things from the car. “Should we… get him?”
Opal shrugs. “He said he wanted a workout before getting his tan.”
“Oh, alright.”
“Everything okay?” Asami asks after finishing with the attendant. She’s slipped on her sunglasses and wraps an arm around Korra’s waist.
“Yeah. Bolin.”
“Ah. Well, shall we?”
Korra beams, squeezing Asami into a tight hug and spinning her around so that her hat falls off. “We shall!”
~
Katara, Toph, and the kids arrive on Oogi while the others are getting ready for the beach in their bungalows—private suites with beautiful seaside views more impressive than Asami had hinted—so they time their big reunion out on the beach, chairs, towels, and umbrellas already laid out for “maximum vacationing.”
While Naga is off prancing through the grounds, Korra lies on her towel beside Asami, a cool towel courtesy of the staff slapped over her face to block out the sun. She feels the warm rays practically melting all the tension away from her muscles, the stress of being the world’s Avatar slowly easing away—
“Korra,” Asami says, concern laced in her voice. “Korra, the grandmas are plotting.”
“Nope. What did I say? Vacation. Relax now.”
There’s some commotion on either side of her, hissing low whispers, and then Meelo’s high voice carrying over the ocean wind: “How about we feed a bunch of peli-puffins spicy bean cakes? Then we startle them into flying over Toph and pooping everywhere.”
Her eyes closed, she hears snip-bits of other schemes, something about wasabi and suntan oil, and Korra knows this isn’t ending well for her.
“Alright.” She yanks off her cool towel and sits up. “Avatar intervention time.”
“What are you going to do?” Asami asks, a glint in her eye.
“Watch and learn, my love.” Korra raises her arms high, bringing a massive tidal wave over from the sea. “Everyone, chill out!”
The wave crashes over everyone but Asami and Korra safely in the center, and it’s silent for a dangerous moment, the only noise being the lone cry of a peli-puffin.
Then Toph’s cranky old voice breaks the silence. “Oh ho ho! Avatar, you have made a terrible mistake!”
“Non-combatant!” Asami protests, standing up and away from Korra. “Neutral party!”
“Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side!”
“I love you, Korra,” Asami laughs, grabbing her magazine from the sand and shuffling off to get as far away as possible. “But I’d rather not be a war casualty on this vacation.”
Korra sighs, watching Toph speaking to Bolin, who’s nodding vigorously, and Katara whispering something to Meelo, who’s rubbing his hands like some mover villain. “I suddenly have regrets.”
~
Korra falls onto the large, fluffy bed with a dramatic sigh. “What a day.”
The beach war was followed by long afternoon naps on hammocks or towels or, in Meelo’s case, on Oogi’s back. Some attempt was made at a formal dinner at the five-star restaurant on the rooftop, but one course in and yawns all around, they elected to order room service and take showers.
(“I have to make the most of my vacation before those daughters of mine arrive,” Korra had overheard Toph tell Katara, who had laughed in response.)
Asami emerges now from the ensuite bathroom, twisting her hair into a loose bun. Steam follows her out the open door. “Please tell me you managed to get all the sand off you before you got on the bed.”
“I think I got most of it.” She props herself up on an elbow and sends a smirk Asami’s way. “But now that you mention it, I could use some help in those hard-to-reach parts.”
Asami clicks her tongue, but her expression is both hungry and amused as she helps Korra up and practically drags her into the steamy bathroom, placing a hot kiss on her lips as she pushes her back into the shower.
Korra gets some of the best sleep of her life that night.