Standard Disclaimer: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender".
AN: This fic was written months ago as part of a 3-way gift-fic exchange between myself, Speechwriter and Uchiha.s. My prompt was 'snowmobile', if I recall correctly… Voici 38 chapters (mind you, some are quite short), fully written, for you to share in the insanity.
Zuko's Snow Job – Chapter 1
His emotions obvious, Zuko read through the briefing with narrowed eyes and tight fists as he remembered his mother's and father's 'advice' as he left the palace to ride to the airport and board one of their smaller, less impressive personal jets.
"You're representing the Fire Nation with this excursion, Zuko, so do try to keep your dignity this time."
"Just relax and be friendly, darling, it'll go just fine. You may even remember some of the lovely individuals you met during your last visit! That'll be… nice!"
"Speak a negative word to anyone and you're disowned."
"As always, let the girls know you think they're pretty, and it's ok to flirt a little bit. Just remember to remain the perfect gentleman in all situations."
"If you get any of them pregnant, I'll shoot you myself and save their fathers the trouble."
"And don't forget to have fun! Send us a postcard if you have time!"
As if this banishment of a PR assignment to witness the 'blessing' and grand opening of a new nature reserve on the coldest, iciest side of the planet was his idea of 'fun'.
His headset crackled painfully in his ear with static as the pilot waved at him in his mirror.
"We'll be commencing our descent in about 15 to 20 minutes, your Highness. Please buckle your seatbelt."
"Fine," he muttered, and with a last glare at his assignment from Hell, he folded the dossier together and slid it back into his bag. A few quick yanks on the thick canvas straps of his five-point harness had him snugly secured, and he sighed as he glanced out the window at the barren, bleak, wintery landscape below with a conspicuous lack of enthusiasm.
The sooner he got there, the sooner it would be over and done with, and the sooner he could return home. And hopefully, no one he'd met from the last time he'd been there would see him—or if they did, hopefully they would not remember him.
He thoroughly hoped for the latter, even as his chest squeezed tightly.