Continued from the Nazbol Gang chapter.
As requested by gh0stwriter:
A dragon descended through the roof of Leather Daddy's Liquor Bar. It landed beside Katara, and she sighed, already knowing who had sent it. The dragon held up its claw and passed her a note.
"You have cordially been invited to Zuko's nuclear bunker for the quarantine," she read aloud. Well, now that her new communist dictatorship inside the bar had been destroyed, she figured that she might as well. It would be so fun to ride tanks through the streets and intimidate the populace into staying inside, but her failures were really getting her down. And if there was anywhere to wait out a pandemic, it was in Zuko's well-stocked post-apocalyptic shelter.
Katara climbed aboard the dragon and took off through the skies.
—
"Sir, we're gonna have to ask you to close up your business due to the pandemic," the health inspector said.
"But this is my livelihood," the cabbage merchant protested. "How will I make money?"
"Well, you could move to the Fire Nation. I hear they're communist half of the time now," the health inspector suggested. "If you don't want to do that, then you need to change your health practices. Last time I was here, I saw you rubbing your face on your produce, but I didn't fail you because I felt bad about your cart getting run over by those kids. But you have to stop doing that."
"I'll… think about it," the cabbage merchant said.
"No! You can't 'think about it!' And wash your damn hands!"
—
The dragon dropped Katara off only a few islands over from Ozai's queer nationalist compound. "Of course he has his own private island," she muttered to herself. "I should've known."
Zuko emerged from his unground bunker wearing a trench coat and a plague doctor mask. "So glad to see you could make it!" he said. "Come in, let me show you around."
They retreated into the lair, passing by several rooms of freeze-dried food, a closet full of guns, what looked suspiciously like a nuke, and finally the true payload — the toilet paper warehouse.
"I've been selling these online," he explained gleefully. "I bought up every store in the Fire Nation, and I'm selling rolls for a hundred coins each. I'm gonna be rich!"
"You're already rich!"
"Richer!"
Katara peered around the corner and into the warehouse. "Zuko! Why are there people working in there? You're supposed to send them home!"
"It doesn't matter if they get sick if we'll be safe. I haven't shown you the seven lower levels yet! We won't even have to look at those filthy poor people!"
"You disgust me." Katara pinned him up against the wall. There was only one thing that would keep her sane if she had to spend the next few weeks with Zuko. "Let's make out, you sack of shit."
—
"Oh my God, he's infected."
"No, that's just Foamy Bill," the villager explained to the woman who'd moved to Kyoshi Island last month. "He's just like that. It happens whenever he gets excited."
"Well, he should still see a doctor about that anyway, because that is not normal."
—
Seventeen rounds of vigorous hate sex later, Zuko and Katara lay exhausted on the massive triple-king size bed overlooking the aquarium/bowling alley combo room.
"Okay, I have to admit that you're spending the apocalypse in style, even though it goes against basic human decency," Katara said.
"And I have to admit that your form of government is probably the best for controlling the pandemic, even though it sucks at everything else," Zuko replied.
A pause.
"Please never tell anyone that I am enjoying this disgustingly decadent bourgeoisie lifestyle." Before he could say anything, she asked, "Are you up for round eighteen?"
Zuko didn't even complain upon this infringement upon his free speech. "Hell yes. Hold on, let me get my InfoWars boner pills."
AN: authright/libleft interacting: boring, old, I see this every day
authleft/libright interacting: new, exciting, a little sexy