They saw very little of Jet over the next few days.
While Longshot and Smellerbee wandered the streets, looking for someplace – anyplace – that would hire them, Jet remained obsessively focused on the alleged firebenders. He came home only late at night to sleep for a few hours, then was up before dawn to watch them again.
Smellerbee hated it.
The only good thing that happened was on the third day, when Smellerbee and Longshot found jobs. There was a large candle factory not far from their apartment, a massive warehouse filled with steam and vats of bubbling wax, waiting to be poured into molds. It was not especially well-paid work, but it was a place large enough that there would be work enough for the three of them. Smellerbee and Longshot were agreed, at least, that they should all stay together, with Jet's attention so divided. The foreman didn't seem too worried that Jet wasn't present at the moment, having believed Smellerbee when she explained he was still looking for an apartment.
"He'll be here with us first thing tomorrow," Smellerbee promised the foreman, hoping she could keep the promise.
Longshot and Smellerbee decided to get a celebratory lunch, one that Jet declined the offer to join them on, choosing instead to keep his watch. They found a small café and indulged in dumplings, something Smellerbee had not realized she had been missing until she ate them. She and Longshot playfully fought over the largest dumplings with little chopstick battles and drank tea sweetened with honey.
It was something remarkably close to normalcy. But it didn't last.
:–:–:–:
They fell into a sort of routine over the next few days. Longshot and Smellerbee would wake up early to find Jet gone already, checking up on his alleged firebender. He usually made it back in time to eat breakfast and leave for work.
Jet resented the hours he had to spend at the candle factory and was often to be seen with wax on his hands when he hadn't paid close enough attention and spilled it. On days he'd missed breakfast, he was particularly irascible and unyielding in his opinion. Smellerbee repeatedly had to remind him to keep his voice down, not wanting to draw attention to themselves from the foreman or other workers.
Smellerbee felt bad, but she sometimes found it almost relieving when Jet bolted away after work to resume his surveillance. When he was gone she still worried about him, but at least she didn't feel responsible. She and Longshot spent most of their evenings exploring the city, wandering the streets and familiarizing themselves with the shops and citizens. Smellerbee even found a fountain surrounded by candles that she loved for the way it reminded her of her old home.
One evening, while Longshot and Smellerbee sat on the edge of the fountain, eating sweet sticky buns, only to watch the old man Mushi walk by, humming serenely to himself. Predictably, Jet followed not too far behind.
Smellerbee looked at Longshot.
"We have to talk to him," Smellerbee said. "This can't go on forever."
Longshot looked down sadly at the half a sticky bun in his hand, then back up at Smellerbee. She had to laugh.
"Fine, we'll to it tomorrow. Right after work," she said.
The faintest smile flashed across Longshot's face as he took another bite of his bun.
"But you'll back me up, right?" Smellerbee asked.
Yes.
"Promise?"
Always.
Smellerbee licked the sticky-sweet reside of her bun from her fingers, then leaned her head on Longshot's shoulder. She felt him freeze for a moment, then he let his head rest atop hers. They watched the sunset together, glad to have a moment of calm before the storm they could both feel coming.
: –:–:–:
It didn't take long for them to find Jet. He was in an alley, watching the tea shop. His back was to them.
"Jet, we need to talk," Smellerbee said quietly. He tore his eyes away from the tea shop and looked at them.
"What? Oh great, it's you guys. Where have you been? I could use help with some surveillance here."
Smellerbee chose not to answer his plea. "We've been talking, and we think you're becoming obsessed with this. It's not healthy." Smellerbee thought she had been more than generous, but apparently Jet didn't agree. His eyebrows contracted and his eyes went dark.
"Oh, really? You both think this?" he asked, squaring his shoulders and looking from Smellerbee to Longshot.
Smellerbee felt Longshot's hand on her shoulder, indicating his support.
"We came here to make a fresh start, but you won't let this go. Even though there's no real proof!" She guestured emphatically at the tea shop, where absolutely nothing of import had happened since Jet's vigil had begun upon their arrival. Please, Smellerbee thought. Please come back and see sense. If there was something to find, you would have found it.
"Well, maybe if you'd help me –" Jet started, and Smellerbee lost her patience.
"Jet, you've gotta stop this."
"Maybe you've forgotten why we need to start over. Maybe you've forgotten about how the Fire Nation left us all homeless? How they wiped out all the people we loved?" That comment stung, and Smellerbee couldn't think of anything to say, and Jet pressed on. "If you don't want to help me, I'll get the evidence on my own."
Smellerbee felt guilty and unable to do anything but watch as Jet stormed over to the tea shop.
"Should we go home?" she asked Longshot, who nodded.
"I don't know what else to do," Smellerbee said. "I don't know how to wake him up, Longshot."
Longshot reached out and slipped his hand around Smellerbee's and gave it a gentle squeze. It was something new, but reassuring all the same. She leaned into his shoulder briefly.
"You're still with me though, right? We can't let this go on. He's going to drive himself crazy. I don't want to lose him again."
Longshot squeezed her hand again. We won't lose him.
They walked along in silence for a few minutes, until the sounds of a distant fight reached their ears. They stared at each other and Smellerbee felt her stomach drop with an indefinable terror. No no no, we don't know it's –
But her thought was interrupted when they heard Jet's voice, muffled but unmistakably his, echoing through the streets.
Longshot moved first, darting back through the streets with speed Smellerbee had never seen. She took off after him, at times barely keeping him in her sights as he dodged through the streets. He rounded a corner in front of her and she collided with him as she followed, since he had stopped dead at the edge of a gathered crowd.
In the center of the square, just outside the tea shop they'd just left, Jet was locked in combat with Lee, their chests heaving as they stood back-to-back, each trying to strike the other, neither able to reach their opponent, both of them barely keeping the other at bay. Smellerbee was about to rush in out of sheer instinct, but Longshot grabbed her arm. She could feel each finger digging into her flesh and she followed his gaze to where two men with the look of guards were moving swiftly though the crowd.
"Drop your weapons!" one of them thundered, and Smellerbee tried to tug free but Longshot gripped harder.
"We have to help him!" Smellerbee hissed. Longshot shook his head, his eyes still wide and locked on the scene unfolding before them.
"We have to tell them –"
Longshot's head snapped in her direction, his eyes dark and serious.
Wait.
Smellerbee was distracted by Jet's voice ringing out, "Arrest them. They're firebenders!" He was standing in front of Lee now, his sword pointed at him in accusation. Lee's uncle Mushi, standing at his side, chimed in.
"This poor boy is confused. We're just simple refugees."
Another man, clearly the owner of the tea shop, started to explain to the guards what had happened.
"What are we gonna do?" Smellerbee asked Longshot in a whisper. Longshot looked at the guards, then back at Smellerbee. Stay calm. We'll see what happens next.
"Do you think they'll –" but her hope that they might believe Jet was shattered when she heard one of the guards say, "Come with us, son."
Smellerbee's gasp of horror was lost in the noise of the crowd's reaction as Jet swung his sword at the guard. The guard's hand came up to grab the sword, and it was then Smellerbee noticed the dark gloves both guards were wearing were made not of leather but of stone. The guards disarmed Jet and bound his hands behind his back before dragging him away.
"You don't understand!" Jet cried out in desperation. "They're Fire Nation! You have to believe me!"
They threw Jet into the back of a wagon, slamming the doors shut. Smellerbee, inexplicably, felt relieved.
"No one got hurt," she said quietly. "Maybe they'll let him off easy."
The wagon began to move, and without a word, she and Longshot followed it at a distance. They wouldn't let Jet leave them, any more than they would leave him.