Author's epistle: Hey, so I know I said I was going to do another story, but I kind of got down on myself after the last one. I just feel like I could have done a better job and it had me looking at my other stories and I sort of don't like them rn. So I am shelving them indefinitely to work on this one. It's not finished yet, but I have outlined it. I think maybe I put too much pressure to finish my stories beforehand and then I rush through them.

This is going to be a very sexually explicit story, and so the more explicit parts will be on my A03 account Zuko_Es_Estupido. I'll mark the when there are "director's cut" chapters on A03.

This is a stripper/sex worker story. I get that not everyone is into that. Please be kind and skip this if it's not your thing.

Thanks to everyone who supported my last story. As I said over in A03 my discontent has nothing to do with my reviews or reviewers. I appreciate the wonderful support. Just I'm going through a tough time and doubting a lot of stuff that I have to work out.

Aang Gyatso stole a sideways look at the woman sitting rigidly next to him in the passenger's seat of the car. It had been almost 12 minutes since either of them had exchanged a word.

He glanced at the illuminated clock on the dashboard and held back a sigh. If he knew On Ji, this would continue until they got to her apartment, which would mean another 15 or so minutes of tense silence unless he was the one to break it.

Usually he was fine with being the peacemaker, but this time he felt stubborn. He'd done nothing wrong, and yet for whatever reason, On Ji seemed to be blaming him for the way the night had transpired. It was making his head hurt.

"All I'm saying is my Great-Uncle Kenzo is nearly 80. He's a product of his time. You could have been more understanding."

That On Ji had been the first person to break the silence was the second surprising thing to Aang. The first surprising thing was that she'd said what she'd said with a straight face.

He was utterly speechless for a moment, his mouth working like a displaced fish's as he groped for words.

"Are you being serious right now?" Aang's hands unconsciously gripped the steering wheel. Hard. "More understanding? On Ji, he was trying to justify the slaughter of my people!"

"That's not true! You're blowing this entirely out of proportion," she shot back. "His point was that since he and everyone else who was in the Fire Nation military at that time were force-fed a diet of propaganda, you can't say that it was the Fire Nation that destroyed the Air Nomads - it was the Fire Lord."

"Fine. But did you miss the part where he also said that the Air Nomads were 'dirty' and smelled?" Aang asked through gritted teeth. "And that he initially thought the army was going in to civilize the Air Nomads? So, fine, he didn't think exterminating us was the right move, but he did think we needed to be civilized!"

On Ji sighed and then gave that little laugh Aang hated. The little "ha-ha" that she swore wasn't supposed to be patronizing but completely was.

"Aang, again, he's nearly 80. Vegetarianism and pacifism were considered completely barbaric to Fire Nation soldiers back then. Of course it's ridiculous, but he's old as dirt and his mind is made up. Why do you think my mother just humors him? She and my father don't think that way, and you know it. It's just the old generation. It's going to be that way until they all finally die out, so why get angry?"

Aang didn't answer. On Ji was more or less correct. Mr. and Mrs. Shimzu were a part of what was called the "enlightened" class of influential Fire Nation families. They'd both had relatives who'd participated in the war that had begun 50 years ago, but had reached its climax 8 years earlier when Fire Nation forces had decimated the Air Nomad population before going on to wreak havoc on the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes of the North and South Poles.

But the Shimzus themselves, like many Fire Nation citizens born after the war started, were horrified at the war's excesses and the effect it had on other nations. They gave to the charity funds that helped the survivors of the Air Nomad genocide, who now all lived on small pockets of land around the Earth Kingdom, and were utterly decent to Aang, though occasionally saying something ridiculous about his people in their ignorance. Still, Aang could tell that On Ji's parents liked him, and tried hard to make him feel comfortable and welcome whenever he visited their home with their daughter.

That said, neither of them had done a thing when Mrs. Shimzu's aged uncle began spouting his prejudiced drivel. On Ji's mother had sat quietly with a painful, frozen half-grimace and On Ji's father had shifted in his seat and looked constipated. The old man's diatribe only ended when, stuffed with food, he started to nod off, his long white beard flopping into his dish of okayu.

Aang turned into the driveway of On Ji's apartment complex. Her hand found his thigh when he swung the car parallel to her door, and she squeezed meaningfully.

"Minako and Kira are away this weekend. Do you want to come in?"

Aang felt a slight stirring in his pants at that statement. He and On Ji hadn't had sex in nearly a week. His roommates had been constantly around and so had hers. It was not as easy as some might have thought to find alternate places on a college campus to get in a quick one, even when dealing with a campus as large as Republic City University. Bathrooms on campus were monitored and the college librarians had taken to patrolling the stacks and the reading rooms.

But aside from a quick twinge, Aang didn't feel very horny or excited at the prospect of a night of sex with his girlfriend. When he wasn't in the mood, it spelled a blah experience for not only On Ji, but also for himself. In his view, the night had been disappointing enough without adding mediocre orgasms on top of it.

"Thanks, but I promised Haru I'd go to brunch with him tomorrow. Early. He said Eun Ahn is wondering if they should 'take a break' and I think he just needs to talk it out."

He could feel On Ji's glare on the side of his face even before he turned to her and leaned in perfunctorily for a good night kiss. She jerked her head back and jerked the door open.

"Good night," she said acidly, slamming the door in his face before he could respond.

Aang straightened up and sighed, watching On Ji go into her apartment and close the door almost as hard as she'd closed his car door. A moment later, the lights snapped on in the living room.

For a second, Aang wondered if he was being too harsh and taking his frustrations unfairly out on On Ji. But then, he flashed back to earlier in the night, when her bigoted great-uncle was going on and on about the Air Nomads needing to be 'civilized.' Aang recalled trying to catch On Ji's eye, hoping she'd say something, do something, to stop the old idiot's nattering or at least stand up to his prejudiced drivel. But she'd avoided Aang's eyes every time.

With another sigh, Aang made the turn out of the apartment complex and back to the main highway. Maybe he just needed to sleep on it, and things wouldn't look so grim in the morning.

Still, it occurred to him as he drove to his own apartment right off the campus of RCU that Haru wasn't the only person having girlfriend problems.