Work Text:
It’s been years since Toph has been to a proper, pompous gala, and she has to say, she’s been avoiding them for a reason.
The sound of the music playing was the only thing keeping her from wanting to burst into flames as she enters the venue on the arm of her partner. She can sense a large number of people present, who she knows pretend that they’re there for the good cause part of it all, but are simply there to keep up with appearances. As if they gave a shit about how people in need feel.
Not only that, but the voices with which they speak, and their tones. It’s evident that they’re all trying too damn hard to fit into the mold they want to fit into. To her, it’s almost laughable, but she remains stoic.
She has a job to do.
“You good, Wifey?”
Toph turns her head to face Kanto with what she knows is a sickly sweet look on her face. “Call me Wifey one more time tonight, and you’ll wish you hadn’t, Hotshot.”
“If we’re meant to be newlyweds,” he replies, lifting his hand up to her cheekbone and running his thumb across it a few times, “you’re really making it look like the honeymoon was a nightmare.”
“Too bad we aren’t newlyweds, then, right?”
Kanto lays a heavy hand on his chest above his heart. “I resent that.”
She rolls her eyes and tsks before slipping her hand off his arm and scanning the room for the people they’re here to surveil.
The two of them had begrudgingly agreed to work together to get a read on a few suspects that were due to attend this charity/fundraising gala in honor of the orphaned children of Republic City. The heads of the charity, however, are suspected to be involved in some money laundering scheme, which is where Toph and Kanto come in.
Once they got word about the charity gala taking place, they needed to get their names on the list in order to get a closer look at what it is these people are doing. Their independent investigations have led to nothing but dead-ends, and if there’s something she and Kanto have in common is that they hate when leads are duds.
So, as a way to make it seem less odd for her to be attending this gala alone without any purpose to do so, Kanto proposed they do it as an undercover married couple.
At first, Toph found it ridiculous, and not to mention, unnecessary because what reason would a renowned woman like herself have to go undercover? She’d be made within a split second because she’s Toph Beifong and anyone who doesn’t live under a rock knows that.
“I’m not trying to be arrogant or pompous,” she’d told Kanto the day he brought the idea up. “It’s just the truth, and it’d be stupid for me to go along with this.”
“Right, I’ll give you that, but these people don’t know me .” He tapped his chest. “They don’t know who I am, they don’t know I’m your deputy chief, they don’t even know I exist. If you get your hands on an invitation to this thing and actually go, it won’t seem at all suspicious or motivated by anything. It’s just the police chief supporting a seemingly unharmful cause on the arm of her under-the-radar husband. We go in and out and never speak of it again. That simple.”
Toph wanted to so badly tell him that it was a stupid idea, that it wouldn’t work, but she knew better. It was a good plan, a lot cleaner than what the rest of her team had brought forward, and though it was hard to admit, much better than anything she was able to come up with.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Hotshot,” she told him, sticking her hand out for him to shake, which he took immediately. “You better get me a good ring, though; I may be a simple girl, but I do like my rocks.”
He’d laughed at that before they sat down to discuss the ins and outs of this plan. It’s simple—they’d just recently gotten married in a private little ceremony officiated by Aang, surrounded by their nearest and dearest. It hasn’t even been a week, and they want to keep things quiet for now, which is why the press hasn’t released any stories.
If anyone asks, that’s their cover story. Straightforward, no-nonsense.
Issue is that the last thing she wants to do is pretend to be in a relationship with someone like Kanto, not because she can’t tolerate him, but because he makes her tick in a way no one has in a long time.
He intrigues her and Toph finds that dangerous.
She and Kanto have been nothing but absolutely professional, but there are moments when they’re quiet in either of their offices and there’s this unique tension in the air. Neither of them can find it within themselves to act upon whatever it is, and the more time Toph spends with him, the more she wants to do so. And she knows that she shouldn’t, she knows that their partnership at work is important to maintain, she knows that them doing anything will jeopardize their aforementioned partnership and she can’t afford that.
They work well together and that’s hard to come by.
Tearing her away from her thoughts, Kanto walks up next to her and she catches a discreet nod from him before he says, “Xu-Xin just arrived with the other board members.”
Toph nods, registering the pattern of their heartbeats so she knows not to lose them, though the only heartbeat she recognizes is Xu-Xin Liu. Her parents served on the board of another, obviously more legitimate charity back in Gaoling when Toph was in her twenties. They conversed and Toph immediately hated him and his pontifical tone of voice and general air. She didn’t trust him.
And apparently, for good reason.
There’s a tiny, barely noticeable jump in Xu-Xin’s heartbeat, and she instantly knows that he noticed her.
“He’s on his way—”
“He’s coming over here,” she interrupts Kanto, pointing at her bare feet. “I got that.”
Kanto exhales loudly. “Show off.”
Before she’s able to respond or react, Xu-Xin reaches them and bows his head at them.
“Chief Toph Beifong—I cannot believe my eyes,” he says.
“Neither can she,” Kanto replies quickly.
Toph has to bite her tongue in order to keep herself from laughing. After clearing her throat to cover a chuckle, she nods at Xu-Xin. “It’s been a long time.”
They get through introductions and he asks her about her parents. It’s all very mundane up until the point they begin to talk about the event.
“So, what’s the Republic City Chief of Police and her husband doing at a mundane gala like ours?” asks Xu-Xin. The sarcasm and irony dripping from his tone are evident from miles away, but Toph keeps her smile plastered on her face. “Considering your… line of work nowadays, I would think you’d find this little charity event beneath you.”
Toph’s smile reduces to a sardonic smirk. She’s just about to fire back a response and rip this dickwipe a new one.
Before she’s able to, however, Kanto takes a step toward him, and interjects, “Nobody speaks to my wife like that and gets away with it.”
Xu-Xin hums and nods curtly at Kanto. “I hope you and your wife have a pleasant evening, in that case. Do seek me out should you find yourselves in need of anything.”
Toph nibbles on her lip and raises a brow in Xu-Xin’s direction in a silent parting gesture before she loops her arm through Kanto’s and they take their leave of him.
Once they’re out of Xu-Xin’s earshot, Toph casually asks, “Your wife, am I?”
Kanto sputters for a second and clears his throat. “My—my cover wife. My fake wife. My—my pretend—”
“Yeah,” Toph nods, pursing her lips, trying to hide her laugh. “Understood.”
He sniffles and wipes his nose off his sleeve and walks off to the table with a selection of hors d'oeuvres, and she bites down on her cheek to keep from smiling at his idiocy, but she can tell that she’s failing miserably.
The fact that she finds this man attractive is still beyond her, but no matter how much she tries to shake it, it’s no use.
“So, uh,” Kanto starts off in the midst of chewing on something—she smells dumplings, “if we’re posing as a couple, I happen to think that requires us to take a turn around the dance floor at some point.”
Toph scoffs at him, taking a step toward him, and opening her mouth in a silent request for him to feed her a bite of whatever it is he’s eating. It takes him a second to respond but she feels the dumpling—as she’d guessed—on her tongue.
She chews and swallows before laying a hand flat on his chest. “I don’t dance, but I can eat, so if you want to find yourself a cute dame to woo out on the floor, be my guest, but your wife is going to stay right here.”
Kanto swallows audibly and lets out a shaky breath, causing Toph to smirk. Then, he clears his throat and says, “I’d—I’d still like to show you my moves, Chief. You’d be losing out.”
“I mean… the dance floor’s a great opportunity to plot our next moves, keep our focus on the suspects…”
“Right. Exactly. You read my mind.”
Shaking her head somewhat fondly, she takes his outstretched hand in order for him to guide her in the direction of the semi-vacant dance floor. His hands hesitantly come around her waist and he pulls her closer to him as she snakes her arms around his neck. His hands feel soft and almost featherlike across her lower back; warm, hot, in fact, burning through her clothes.
As the song goes on, he carefully draws her closer to him. Kanto leads Toph in a slow waltz with the ease of someone who knows how to dance, each step calculated and assured rather than boastful or showy. Something about this and the way he’s holding her makes her want to run for the hills, mainly because she finds herself enjoying it, which is dangerous in their situation. Or, at the very least, in hers.
Toph can sense people’s heartbeats and of course the changes in them. She knows that she affects him in some way; what way, however, is a mystery to her.
With him, dancing comes more naturally to her than breathing; it’s nothing like the way she remembers her lessons as a child or the way she has danced with other men in the past. His muscles are moving beneath her fingertips, which are delicately resting on his robe-covered shoulder. And she can't help but breathe him in because of how seductive his scent is.
The distance between them narrows as they sway. He quickly takes her right hand and lowers their combined hands to his chest, moving his hand further down her back as he does so.
“Caught onto anything yet?” he asks, his voice hushed and his breath brushing her ear. She tries her damndest to not shiver but fails as goosebumps cover her arms in the process.
“Nothing yet. But one of the board members is heading toward the toilets. I can probably get something out of her once this, uh, dance is over.”
His cheek is pressed to her temple, so it’s easy to feel him smirk. “That sick of me already?”
“Surprisingly, no. You’re not bad company, Hotshot.”
Kanto pulls back slightly and she can feel his eyes on her, his breath now tickling the space between her brows. “Is that right?”
Toph nibbles on her bottom lip for a few seconds, relishing in their closeness but attempting to not make a show of it. Her fingers move up to his neck again and softly scratch at the soft skin there. This time, he shudders, giving her the upper hand again. “It might be.”
The space keeping them apart narrows significantly all of a sudden just as the song is coming to an end. There’s tension between the two of them, and she finds that she’s having a bit of trouble catching her breath despite not participating in any kind of strenuous, fatiguing activity.
Clearing her throat, she steps away from him, and without saying anything, she makes her way over to the restrooms in haste.
Spirits, she thinks as soon as she steps foot into the bathroom. That was a lot.
She shakes her head to clear her mind and focuses on her surroundings. There are two people in the room—one with a presence that interests her, and one that does not. Toph strides to a stall, does her business, and keeps her attention on one of the women, who she recognizes from her initial scan of the ballroom when she and Kanto first arrived.
Once she exits the stall and reaches the sink, she can feel the woman’s eyes on her as the other one quits the bathroom, leaving the two of them alone. Toph is smirking.
“Like what you see?”
“Oh, no,” the sly voice of the woman rings in Toph’s ears, “just wondering what someone like you is doing here this evening.”
“Seems like everyone in your circle is wondering the same thing.”
The woman chuckles and leans against the sink beside her. “With good reason, because why would the police chief of Republic City be here? Should you not be doing something more important? Are you following a lead?”
“Even if I was, why would I share that with you?”
“Because I have my sights set on that so-called husband of yours,” she admits quickly. “I happen to remember a few run-ins I had with him, or that he had with me. He’s arrested me for a few petty crimes in my day. So, again I ask, Chief Beifong, what is it you’re doing here?”
Toph’s smirk widens and she turns to face the woman, who is evidently about to make an attack that Toph easily foresees and blocks. The woman pulls out a switchblade and knicks Toph in the cheek, causing her to swipe her head and her neck to kink a bit. In a countermove, Toph earthbends her into a wall and outside, leaving a gaping hole in the bathroom wall. She winces.
Deciding that she should leave the scene before she’s questioned about the ruckus, Toph causally exits the bathroom in pursuit of Kanto, who she bumps into immediately.
“For the love of—oh, oh Toph! You’re—spirits, you’re okay.”
“I told you I’d be in the restroom…” she says carefully, then arches a brow in intrigue. “Were you worried about me?”
“Wh—no. You took a while, and I—I just think that if you’d, I don’t know, died, it—it would’ve been a mission failure, and you know that that’s not how I roll.”
“Right…” she trails off, cracking her neck, trying to get rid of the kink that the tussle left. “Well, I will say that we’ve been made and that we probably have a few minutes to get our shit together and make arrests.”
Kanto blinks, sucks in a breath, and stage whispers, “What? ”
“I don’t believe you’re hard of hearing, Hotshot, so let’s get over the shock, and get to business, okay?”
He grabs her arm before she walks off, then brings his thumb to her cheek. “You’re bleeding.”
The concern in his voice coupled with his closeness makes warmth pool in her belly, but she ignores it, swatting his hand away. “Just a scratch, come on.”
She doesn’t get to know or hear his response because she’s already moving in the direction of one of their suspects. He’s a heavyset man and seems to be on the lookout for something—or someone. Toph inhales and heads in his direction, readying the metal cables she’s got hidden beneath her robes. She’s only a few feet away from him and he’s got no clue what’s coming to him, but as she’s gearing up to metalbend the shit out of this guy, she feels Kanto’s hand close around her wrist again and pulls her into a nearby corridor.
“What are you doing?” She’s furious—she had this guy, and if they didn’t manage to get their hands on anyone else, at least they’d have someone who knows what’s going on.
Kanto still has a death grip on her wrist when he replies, “We need to focus on Xu-Xin. He’s the one we want, and we have him at our fingertips. Don’t let yourself be distracted by anything else. I know how much you want to put an end to this, but it starts with him— not anyone else.”
Toph knows he’s right, and the way he spoke to her makes her feel some way that she knows she shouldn’t even consider. Still, she pulls her hand out of his grip, and just as she’s about to give him a reply, she feels the man they’ve got open season on approaching.
They have no plan of attack, and she’s not going to make this arrest abruptly—it’s not how she works, it’s never been, and it never will be. So instead of acting on impulse, Toph does the first thing that comes to mind.
She grabs Kanto by his lapels and kisses him.
He’s stunned for a split second until he begins to respond, pushing her into the wall behind her. Their bodies brush up against one another as they acquaint themselves in this new, very welcome way. Her lips are parted by his insistent tongue, which sends wild tremors down her spine and causes her to experience feelings she had no idea she was capable of. He pulls her close by grabbing a hold of her thigh with his hands after they run down her back. Toph arcs toward him, savoring the taste and feel of him for the first time, even though this is meant to be nothing.
The footsteps of their dear friend Xu-Xin begin to fade away onto the roof of the venue along with his nervous yet startled heartbeat, but Toph can’t seem to pull herself away from the warmth and taste of Kanto’s mouth.
Her fingers grip his hair, bringing him evermore closer to her as his hands tighten around her, her entire body on fire.
This isn’t what she expected. She never thought that kissing Kanto would be like this—and she’s thought about it.
Toph never believed that her stomach would become mush or that her steady self would be on the ground due to buckling knees if not for the firm grip he has on her. She never believed that she’d want his hands on every bit of her, or that she’d suddenly feel so strongly for him.
Abruptly, she pulls away from him. They’re both panting.
“That—”
“We have work to do, Hotshot,” she interrupts him, side-stepping between him and the wall. “Get yourself together and meet me on the roof in five.”
With that, she turns on her heel, pulls her skirts up above where it’s socially acceptable, and she makes for the roof of the place. The rustle and bustle of the stuffy ballroom is beginning to die down as it seems that it’s past the bedtime of most of these hoity-toity fools and most of them have gone home.
She finds a staircase but is confronted by two burly men—both of whose serve on the board of the supposed charity—standing as menacingly as they can manage, blocking the way up.
“Chief Beifong,” says one of them. “You’re not allowed to go up there.”
“Aw, come on, boys. What’s a girl gotta do to get some fresh air around here?”
The two exchange a look, and before they can register what’s happening, Toph bends them both into each side of the wall of the staircase, then sends metal cables in their direction to cage their necks for good measure.
She grins at her handiwork as she always does, wipes her hands against her skirts, and tells them, “Nice doing business with you.”
Now with nothing in her way, she double-times her way up the steps and onto the roof to find Xu-Xin shaking hands with some tall man with a small build.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
“Ah, Toph,” he remarks. “I had a feeling that I knew why you were here this evening.” He turns to the man he was speaking with. “Allow me a moment—I’ll meet you in the dining hall shortly.”
The man, befuddled, exits the roof, leaving the two of them facing each other as though they’re in a stand-off, which Toph surmises they are.
A gong sounds in Toph’s head a-lá Earth Rumble, and she’s on him in an instant, earth already being flung in his direction. Fear covers Xu-Xin’s face as soon as she pins him with a slab of earth against the railing, and as she raised a fist and holds it for a minute, she gives him a chance to submit.
“What game are you playing here?” she asks him. “Why use a charity to do your dirty work?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She scoffs, uncoiling the metal cables in the holster on her thigh. “Judging by your physical responses, I beg to differ, dipshit. Now answer the question before I have to get you into our five-star interrogation room downtown, hm?”
All Toph’s senses are focused on this man’s heartbeat and any movements he’s making, so she doesn’t notice when another one of Xu-Xin’s henchmen-slash-board-members suddenly drops from nowhere and attacks her from behind, knocking the wind out of her and causing her to fall onto the surface of the roof and bust her lip.
At first, she doesn’t feel it, but once she manages to sit up, there’s this sharp pain in her left shoulder blade. It’s not until she moves that she notices that it’s a knife. She’s been stabbed.
Her hold on Xu-Xin is unrelenting, however, though she’s still struggling to catch her breath after the fall and has lost a slight bit of mobility on her left side. Still, without coming to her feet, she nods her head in the direction of this new attacker charging toward her and traps one of his feet in the concrete. He falls on his face and grunts just before Kanto finds his way up to the party.
“Wh—Toph! ”
She brings her forearm up to her mouth and wipes away the blood before standing shakily and reaching behind her to pull the blade out of her back. “I appreciate the backup, but I think I’ve got it covered, Hotshot. Thanks.”
He fusses over her for a moment before she swats his hands away, then he says, “I got caught up myself downstairs. Party was over pretty much the moment you disappeared.”
Without thinking, she brings her hands up to his face, trying to find any cuts or bumps, and her fingers find that his jaw is slick with blood. Furrowing her brows, she allows her hands to travel down to his arms, where she realizes that pieces of the fabric of his clothes are missing and he flinches at her touch. “What happened?”
“I made two arrests—two women on the board from the Fire Nation. They, uh, knew how to put up a fight.” He shrugs. “ But they did tell me where to find the proof of the laundering, so I’ve already made a radio call to the station to get there as soon as they can.”
“But—you’re good?”
He nods at her, “I’m good… are you? Because—you don’t look it.”
“You sure know how to flatter your wife.”
“That’s not what I—you know what I meant.”
Toph allows a smile, then rolls her shoulders while trying not to hiss. “I’m good. Nothing Katara can’t fix when we get back home.”
She can tell that he wants to say something, do something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns to face the bundle of earth that Xu-Xin is buried in. “What about him?”
“He wasn’t talking, but signs point to the fact that he knows what’s up,” she tells him. “And, uh, good catch with the evidence, dep.”
“You got it, Chief.”
They don’t speak much after that.
Toph winces as she holds a rag damp with the medication Katara had given her not long ago to her injured shoulder. The stabbing isn’t deep and Katara said that the scarring will be gone within two healing sessions—not that Toph really cares—and that the pain will gradually cease within the next few days. As for the gash on her cheek and the bumps and bruises she got in the confrontation, those were quickly gone following her initial session with Katara, though there’s still a bit of pain left behind, which should be remedied with a few minutes of ice application before bed.
She’d gotten a stern talking-to from her best friend in the process for being so careless, but she barely listened. All she was able to think about—all she’s still able to think about—is Kanto. Things between them have shifted after this evening, she can tell.
They knew going into this that going under as a couple required certain things from them—hand-holding, closeness, kissing. But Toph has been trained for this, and so has he, and none of their undercover work required intimacy.
She felt closer to him in one night than she’d ever felt to anyone in a lifetime.
With a frustrated huff, Toph tosses the rag onto the tea table in the living room. This entire mission has fucked up all the work she’s put into avoiding any feelings she has for her deputy chief, and as much as she hates to admit it, she’s absolutely gone for him right now. She needs him. She wants him.
She really, really shouldn’t, but she does, and she can’t help it.
Determined, Toph comes to her feet, approaches her door, then pauses, noticing that there’s a presence outside her door. She furrows her brows, wondering why the hell he’s here before pulling open the door.
His fist is in the air, as though he was just getting ready to knock, but it immediately falls limply at his side once she’s in front of him. “Hi.”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Can’t a man visit his cover wife in the middle of the night with beers and some takeout for her troubles?”
A smile settles on her face and she steps aside wordlessly to let him into her apartment. He walks in slowly, settling the food down on the tea table by her rag and plopping down onto the couch before pulling out a beer, opening it, and offering one to her.
Immediately, she takes it and sits down, bringing the cold bottle up to the cut on her cheekbone, sighing in relief and making Kanto chuckle.
“I take it the pain’s not any better?”
She shrugs, grabbing the carton of whatever takeout he brought—she smells dumplings in this container and she’s not complaining. “Not too bad; could be way worse, honestly… how are you feeling?”
“Uh, the burns didn’t cause any nerve damage, according to Katara, but she said it’ll take a few sessions for the scarring to fade if at all. so, uh, overall? Not too bad on my end, either.”
Toph nods, digging into the food and taking swigs of her beer. She hates small talk with a passion, but she doesn’t want to bring up what she has to bring up just yet. It might be too soon.
“So, uh,” he says after a bout of silence, “what were you going to do when I got here? Did I interrupt something?”
“Huh?”
“Uh, when I got here? You opened up before I knocked… I assumed you were on your way out?”
She nods slowly, setting the food down. “I was.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry. I can leave—”
“I was going to find you.”
He stammers for a second before shifting on the couch a bit to face her more directly. “You—why?”
Without pause, Toph’s hands come to either side of his face and she kisses him. This time, she’s less abrupt and fierce about it and she takes her time tasting him and feeling him. And though this kiss is much shorter than their first, it feels so much more significant and it leaves her just as breathless.
She leans her forehead against his and runs her thumb across his bottom lip. “That answer your question?”
Apparently, it does because there’s not much talking after that.