When the sun started slowly casting shadows from each building into the street, business slowed at the Pao Family Tea House. With teatime ending, but dinner still a ways off, the crowds emptied from the building.

Iroh liked this time of day. It gave him time to wash each teacup and spot check the tables. Sometimes Zuko rushed through wiping them off, hasty as he was, and Iroh wanted to make sure his nephew didn't miss a speck of cake. Master Pao offered them a fair wage, and Iroh was determined to earn it. If it meant redoing a few tables, so be it.

Wrapped up in scrubbing the stack of teacups in the sink, Iroh didn't notice a lanky boy cross the threshold. Had he looked up, Iroh might have recognized the piece of straw clamped between his teeth or the wild brunette mop that might pass for hair. But his eyes remained trained on the cups, hunting for stray tea leaves sticking to the sides.

The newcomer snagged a bench near the entrance. When the boy coughed pointedly, Iroh realized he was not alone. Wiping his hands on his apron, he walked out of the kitchen and approached the customer.

"Hello, my young friend," said Iroh, a gleam in his eyes. "You made it off the boat, I see."

"Barely. That terrible food almost killed me."

Iroh shuddered, remembering the sorry excuses for dinner on the refugee boat. "Today, I can offer you the finest tea in Ba Sing Se."

The boy didn't believe him— Iroh could read it in the curl of his lip— but ordered a pot of ginseng tea.

"What a good choice," Iroh nodded. "A man who knows his way around tea is a man who will find happiness in life."

At that, the boy cracked a smile.

Iroh returned it warmly. "You'll have to remind me of your name. At my age, it's hard to remember such things."

"Jet. You're… Lee's uncle?"

The implication was not lost on Iroh. He knew this boy knew his true identity. "Call me Mushi." With a bow, Iroh shuffled back to the kitchen to put a new kettle on the stove to boil. He wiped dry a newly cleaned mug, chopped up a fresh ginseng root, and placed a small cake on a saucer. The least he could do for a friend of Zuko's.

The wooden door rattled on its hinges as another customer entered the shop, taking a seat towards the back of the shop near the kitchen.

"I heard your tea is pretty good. I'm just passing through town for the market week, so I thought I'd stop here," the young man said once Iroh reached his table. Dressed all in green, he sported a five o' clock shadow that Iroh guessed to be a feeble attempt at growing a beard.

"You have come to the right place," Iroh smiled. "What can I offer you, young…?"

"Haru, sir."

"Please, call me Mushi." Iroh said these words dozens of times every day, and his voice never wavered with the lie. He liked to think that he's still offering some part of the truth; he was tired of being Iroh, tired of all the weight that comes with his name. Mushi was lighter somehow— still a dutiful uncle, but also a brewmaster, a diligent worker, a friend. Mushi did not worry about his brother's cruelty nor his vicious niece. His purpose was to create a welcoming atmosphere, to offer good tea and better conversation.

"Do you have any jasmine tea?"

"Do we have any jasmine?" Iroh laughed at the question, then frowned at the thought of running out of jasmine. What a dark day that would be. "I'll brew some fresh for you."

"Thank you, sir… er, Mushi."

Minutes later, Iroh emerged from the kitchen balancing a heavily-laden tray. What he wouldn't give for Zuko's youthful arms right about now. At the green stranger's table, he presented a jade pot of tea, a cup and saucer, and a pastry. "No jasmine tea tastes perfect without a snack!" Haru dug in hungrily.

As Iroh neared Jet's perch at the front of his shop, he was nearly bowled over by the door swinging open into his path. The scalding liquid sloshed out of the remaining clay pot on his tray, splattering his apron and the very eager girl standing in the doorway.

"Oh!" she squealed. "I'm so sorry!"

Iroh shook his head. "It is I who should be apologizing to you. The unobservant man caught unaware finds no one at fault but himself. Welcome, Jin."

Jin giggled. "Thanks, Mushi. Is Lee here?"

"I'm afraid not." Iroh held back a chuckle. The source of her enthusiasm had become quickly apparent to him. "He hadn't sat down all day, so I sent him upstairs to rest for a bit after the afternoon rush. I think he may have stepped out to pick up ingredients for our dinner from the market."

Jin's face fell. To cheer her up, Iroh said, "But I must implore you to stay for a cake."

The girl shifted back and forth on the balls of her feet, lips pursed as she pondered his offer. "Oh, fine. One cake won't hurt! As long as I'm back home before supper."

"Perhaps my best server will return by then, and he can walk you home in time for dinner," Iroh suggested. Mushi liked matchmaking and Jin liked Lee, that much he knew.

Jin lit up at the thought, and bounced over to the table closest to the kitchen, seating herself across from Haru. He grinned cautiously at the newcomer, surreptitiously scooting his teapot away from her elbows.

When Iroh emerged from the kitchen with more tea, he noticed that the quiet Earth Kingdom boy was caught up in conversation with Jin. He edged closer to their table after dropping off Jet's tea and cakes. Mushi was a curious little soul, Iroh reasoned. He couldn't help but overhear their conversation, being in the same room and all. So he set to wiping down the tables and benches surrounding the teenagers.

Jin's voice rose above the sound of rag on wood. "He's so shy and he doesn't talk much, but I like it when he does. And he's so handsome even with his scar! I think it makes him look so—"

Iroh bristled. Even with his scar? His nephew was beautiful because of his scar. It showed his good heart, even if he had trouble discerning what it guided him to do sometimes. But Jin was young, a young girl who was interested in his surly nephew. The general had to give her credit for that.

"— And I'd love to ask him out, but I'm so nervous he'll say no… Or worse, that he'll say yes and have a miserable time with me—"

"Anyone who gets to spend an evening with you is a lucky person," Haru gently interrupted.

"Thank you!" Jin's surprise was apparent, and Iroh reminded himself to compliment her more often. Such a lovely young woman, and so kindhearted, too. She took a sip of her tea to wash down the cake. "Do you have anyone you fancy?"

Haru's cheeks flushed perceptibly as he shook his head. "No… er, yes, but…"

Iroh looked up from his scrubbing to see Jin raise her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"I… I'd love to hear more about this Lee you've been telling me about." Haru's diplomatic answer amused Iroh. He had moved onto wiping down the next bench, keeping up the pretense while enjoying the entertainment unfolding in front of him. These few hours separating teatime from dinner were never this fascinating. What a treat.

"You want to hear more?" Jin asked skeptically. "I just spent the last ten minutes talking your ear off, and you don't even know me! You don't want to know more. You're just avoiding the question."

"Er… There's one girl. I met her when she was traveling through my village with her friends. She isn't an earth bender, but she has the strength of one, you know?"

"She's in the circus?"

"No, she's not freakishly strong. Internally strong, I mean. She's tough, but also compassionate. She helped me rescue my dad from a Fire Nation prison."

"Whoa! She sounds like a really wonderful person."

"She is."

A quick glance around the room showed Iroh that Jet could not help but hear this conversation, too. There was nothing else for him to focus on in the tearoom. Jet's head was inclined ever so slightly towards the conversation.

"So… what does she look like?" Jin giggled.

"She's got long, brown hair. Kind of…" Haru gestured wildly with his hands.

"Wavy?"

"Yeah, sure. We'll go with that. Wavy." He smiled at Jin, but his eyes were far away. "When she smiles, she makes me feel less afraid."

"So how does she feel about you?"

Haru's face fell, and Iroh sensed Jin hit a sore spot. "I think she's forgotten all about me."

"Forgotten you?"

"I haven't seen her since she saved my dad. She… travels a lot and was just passing through town with her friends when we met. I don't think…"

Iroh had wiped every table in the teahouse so clean that he couldn't keep up his pretense of cleaning them much longer. The sweet smell of young love, like cherry blossoms in spring, was intoxicating. He was reminded of a woman with dark black hair and a penchant for music. It had been years since he had felt this nostalgic. Perhaps it was the thought of Zuko getting a chance to experience these feelings for himself if he managed not to bungle things up with Jin. Perhaps it was the scent of jasmine tea in the air, which Iroh could almost taste. Whatever the reason, the old tea maker could not resist jumping into the conversation, if only to lighten the young man's frown and remind him of the beauty his feelings bring.

He seated himself next to his guest, across from Jin. "Whoever this lucky woman is, she sounds wonderful," he said.

Haru's smile stretched across his face. "Thank you, Mushi."

"Perhaps this girl of yours will walk into this teashop one day," Iroh speculated. "Then I could remind her of your village and direct her that way on her travels."

Haru sighed. "If you ever see a sky bison fly through the city, send it my way."

Iroh frowned. A sky bison? Perhaps he had met this girl his guest spoke of before. As his thoughts turned towards the Avatar and his female companion, he observed Zuko's friend standing up from his bench. The boy strode towards the group with his cup in hand, and plunked down on the bench next to Jin.

"Don't want to miss out on all your fun," he drawled. "Jet."

"Haru. And this is—?"

"Jin! My name's Jin. I just met Haru, and I'm glad to meet you, too!"

Jet paid the girl little mind. Instead, he stared at Haru as he sipped his drink. "Your girl sounds real great."

"Doesn't she?" Jin bubbled.

"Real great."

To Haru's credit, he didn't look away from the stranger across the table. "I think so."

"You know, I once liked a girl, too."

Jin squealed. "Ooh! Tell us about her."

"Met her one day in the forest," Jet said. "In a Fire Nation soldiers' camp, actually."

Jin sighed. "Star-crossed—"

"We fought together, me and my band, her and her friends. Never seen a woman fight like she did. She could bend water like a pythonacanda charmer at the Ba Sing Se zoo."

Haru's mouth twitched at that; Iroh would've missed it had he not been eyeing the unfinished pastry in front of the boy.

Jet continued, "She liked my style— wanted to stay with me— but her brother… We didn't get along. He was jealous of my tactical expertise. Thought he was a warrior and that he knew how to handle Fire Nation scum better than me." His expression hardened. At this insult, a chill ran down Iroh's back. Gods forbid Jet cause any trouble here by accidentally misremembering Iroh's name. But the fighter was too focused on the Earth Kingdom boy's reaction in front of him.

"We parted ways since her brother told her not to trust me. A pity, since things had started heating up between us. Froze me in ice when we said goodbye, but I knew that just meant she liked me."

Hearing this, Haru's fist clenched around his teacup. Iroh worried he would shatter it. "So… who wants some more cakes?" he said, attempting to ease the tension brewing in the room. No one acknowledged his question. The boys were locked in a staring match; Jin's eyes kept flicking between their angry brows and tight lips.

"A waterbender, you say?" Haru challenged.

"Yeah." Jet leaned back, suddenly the picture of ease. His posture suggested he had not a care in the world, but the remnants of his scowl suggested otherwise. "You ever met one of those?"

"Er… perhaps." Haru tried keeping his face neutral, but Iroh noticed that his jaw tightened.

"This waterbender I met had long, wavy hair and an annoying brother and a great ass—"

"Don't talk about her body that way!" Haru interrupted, his cup hitting the table rather forcefully. Iroh stared at the sliver of green porcelain that broke onto the table as the cup made contact with the wood. "Katara is a beautiful, strong woman who deserves our respect."

"Cool it, man. You're just jealous that she begged me to carry her up to my treehouse in my arms."

"Right. She wouldn't be caught dead in the arms of an unprincipled hooligan."

"Yeah? At least I can grow a beard if I want to. Your mustache looks ridiculous! Like a ten-year-old glued rabaroo fur to his face so he could look like Daddy."

"You want to talk about my father again?"

Iroh reached over Haru's wildly gesticulating arms for the teapot. It would be a shame to let a perfectly steeped jasmine brew cool off. His duty as a master tea maker was to savor the neglected drink. So he poured himself a cup, wishing he could warm it right then without fearing someone would notice.

As the two boys rose from their benches and rolled up their sleeves, Iroh simply sipped at the lukewarm drink. Jin whispered to him, "I wish someone would fight over me!"

"Do not confuse violence for strength, or aggression for love," he replied gravely. "More tea?"

"—and that's where you can stick your earthbending!" Jet hollered. "Fight me like a man!"

"Well, I think you're a disgusting excuse for an Earth Kingdom subject," Haru shouted. "And for the record, Katara left before I started growing my mustache."

"Katara?" The husky voice stilled the room, and the open door slammed with a bang. Four heads spun in the direction of the disturbance.

"Lee!" Jin chirped.

Iroh groaned. His nephew's timing, as usual, was impeccable. One mention of the Avatar, and he turned into a shirsu sniffing out his trail.

"Did you say Katara?" Zuko avoided eye contact with the girl waiting for him, but strode towards her table and stopped before the squabbling boys.

Jin's face fell when he failed to look at her. "You know her?" she squeaked in dismay.

"Oh great," Jet said. "Now he wants a piece of her, too. You can't have her, buddy… Me and this guy—"

"Haru," the earth bender interjected.

"Haru and I are duking it out over her."

"Oh, I don't want the Water Tribe peasant," Zuko growled. "I want her friend."

"Her brother?" Jet frowned. "I wouldn't—"

"Not her brother, you fool!" Zuko's rage simmered, threatening to boil over. Iroh prayed to the gods that his nephew's fists wouldn't erupt in flames. "I'm looking for the bald monk she travels with."

"I didn't know you were into that sort of thing…" At this jab from Jet, Zuko lost the remnants of his control.

"Get out!" he screamed, his face ruddy. "Get out of this teashop and never come back!"

Jet paused, as if to challenge him, then slowly picked up his glass and sauntered out of the shop. Iroh sighed. Life without patience was like an incomplete tea set longing to be completed. Thanks to his nephew's impatience, Iroh's favorite clay set was now missing a teacup. What would he tell Master Pao?

"Oh… I… I better go. It's almost dinner. See you later, Lee!" Jin shot a small smile at Zuko before patting Iroh's shoulder and heading out the door.

Haru sheepishly examined the teacup he had chipped against the wood. "How much do I owe you… for the tea and the—?"

"Your presence today was my pleasure," Iroh said. "I would be honored if you allowed me to gift this meal to you."

Haru smiled, relieved to be on his way. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mushi, sir. I apologize about the… er, you know."

Iroh smiled. "Do not give up hope. The young waterbender may return to you yet." Rolling down his rumpled sleeves, Haru walked out of the teashop with a faint grin, leaving Iroh to face his nephew.

"You lied to him," Zuko fumed.

Iroh raised his eyebrows, the picture of innocence.

"You and I know that the foolish waterbender is on a sky bison right now with her… boyfriend." He spits the word.

"I imagine so, yes," Iroh confessed, walking to the kitchen. "But I couldn't afford the loss of another cup today."

Zuko let out a yelp of frustration as Iroh handed him an apron. "Uncle! We just got a lead on the Avatar and his friends," he protested. "We can't work right now!"

Iroh simply smiled and picked up a rag. "Hurry, nephew. We have dishes to wash before the dinner crowd returns."