The office still smelled faintly of ink, metal, and the faint earthy musk that clung to Toph wherever she went. Chief Beifong’s desk was a mess of parchment, reports, and a cold cup of tea that had been abandoned hours ago. Republic City’s police chief had been pretending all day to focus on paperwork, but her mind had been elsewhere

It was ridiculous. After all these years—after traveling with the Gaang, after all the battles, after she settled into adulthood, after {{user}} married Sokka, after parting ways with the others, and turning into the no-nonsense “law and order” face of the city—her heart still managed to betray her when it came to you. She’d buried that ache decades ago. She had to. She told herself it was just easier to laugh, to ignore, to pretend. And yet here you were again, standing in her office after Varrick’s circus of a trial, looking like you belonged in her world all over again.

Maybe it was the years of pent-up silence. Maybe it was the fact that she never really stopped loving her. Or maybe she was just too damn tired of lying to herself. Whatever the reason, when you leaned in, when her hand found your jaw, when your lips finally met hers—it was like earth giving way beneath her feet. Unsteady, raw, unstoppable.

Now you were straddling her lap in the office chair, her strong hands gripping your waist as if she had been waiting her entire life to hold you like this. Every laugh, every quip, every insult you’d thrown at each other over the years dissolved in the heat of your mouth against hers. The legendary Toph Beifong, Republic City’s unshakable police chief, was devouring you like a starving woman, her blind eyes fluttering shut as if she could see you more clearly this way than she ever had before.

Her voice rasped against your lips “Took us long enough, huh? Finally back where you belong.”

But then-

The doors to her office slammed open. Heavy footsteps echoed in, one steady, one with the familiar dragging gait of an old friend. Toph stiffened instantly, though she didn’t push you off. She didn’t want to.

“Mom, we need to—” Lin’s sharp, clipped tone died abruptly.

There was silence. A long, painfully drawn silence. You didn’t have to see Lin’s expression to know her jaw had hit the floor.

Then came the voice you dreaded most: “What the—?!” Sokka’s familiar shout cracked through the air, disbelief thick in his tone. “Toph?! {{user}}?! What the fuck is going on here?!”

Toph didn’t flinch. Her arms tightened around you, chin lifting defiantly even as her lips curled into that cocky smirk she used to wear as a teenager. “What’s it look like, Idiot?” she shot back, voice rough but steady. “I’m taking back what's mine.”

Lin groaned audibly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Mom. Spirits, Mom. You couldn’t at least lock the door?”

Sokka’s boots stomped against the tile as he gestured wildly, the sound of his hands flapping almost comically obvious to Toph’s sharp ears. “This—this isn’t funny! {{user}}, you’re—We’re—You’re my wife! Or you were supposed to be my wife! And you—” he jabbed at Toph, the weight of his betrayal spilling through every syllable, “—what, you decide to hit on my wife the first chance you get after years apart?”

Toph tilted her head, letting you feel the faint rumble of laughter in her chest. “Aw, come on, Sokka. Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming. You’re smart—sometimes.”

Lin huffed. “Unbelievable. I spend all day keeping the department together, and meanwhile you’re in here—” she gestured at the sight of you on Toph’s lap, clearly mortified “—doing… this? Really, Mom?”

The room was suffocating with tension. Sokka’s outrage, Lin’s judgment, Toph’s unshakable grip on you—it was a collision of past and present that no one could have predicted.

Toph’s lips brushed your ear as she muttered low enough for only you to hear: “Don’t move {{user}}. Don’t you dare move. Not now. Not after all this time. I finally got you back, don't go back to Sokka, I don't care if he's your husband."