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“I think I still owe you a ride.”
Korra swipes a hand through her hair, and the shining dark strands feather back down to frame the dusky rose blush blooming across her cheeks. “Well I'd hate to make a liar out of you,” she says. “You're not too busy?”
Asami thinks about the mountain of expense reports waiting for her back in her sweltering office, about another night spent doing math—and not the fun kind—until her eyes glaze over and she falls asleep at her desk without eating, and she briefly entertains the idea of walking into the sea right here and now.
Instead she swings a leg over the side of the jet ski and checks the kill switch, feels the corner of her mouth twitch up into a smile and beckons Korra over with a quick jerk of her head. “Hop on.”
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A 1980s Lifeguard Korra/Jet Ski Saleswoman Asami AU beamed directly from my twisted mind to yours, in which a melon meets a terrible fate, a chance meeting turns into something more, and Asami remembers how to have fun.