Chapter 30

"You're asking me to marry you?" Mai repeated.

"Someday," Jet clarified with one of those rakish grins he worked so well. "Someday when I'm in the position to make a real life for you."

"I don't know what to say," Mai began uncertainly, looking up at him.

"Don't say anything—yet," Jet replied, tucking her hand into his arm and escorting her back to the palanquin as calmly as if nothing unusual had happened. "Just think about it. When the time is right, I'll really ask you. Then you can say something."

Mai walked back with him in a state of shock. She knew Jet liked her—a lot. She knew she liked him—a lot. He'd told her he loved her—twice. But Jet wanted to marry her? She was floored.

But at the same time, she was elated. After all, Jet was the guy. She knew that deep down. She knew that it wasn't 'like' she felt for him.

It was love. It was a scary, all consuming kind of love. A love that threatened to take all her independence and self-sufficiency and toss them out the window to be replaced by things like steadfast devotion and complete loyalty.

She was terrified.

But at the same time, she was elated.

Back at the palanquin, Jet handed her inside, then asked the bearers to take Mai back to her apartments. "Why?" she asked. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go take care of some business. I need to talk to Smellerbee and Longshot myself," he said. "I'll be back later this afternoon."

"How will you get back into the residential section?" she asked. "They'll be looking for the official palanquin."

Jet gave her a grin and pulled the Fire Nation seal Tiandu had given him out of his inside vest pocket. "I think they'll let me in," he said with a laugh.

"That ought to do it," Mai agreed. "I forgot you still had that thing."

"I never lose track of an asset," Jet replied with a playful wink. Mai had never been winked at before. It made her want to giggle, and she was absolutely not a giggler.

So she settled for asking, "Will you come to dinner at my place?"

"I'd love to," he replied seriously. Then he turned all gentlemanly all of a sudden and pressed a very properly polite kiss onto her fingers. If he held them a second longer than absolutely necessary, it wasn't long enough to generate any attention from the passers-by.

Then Jet gave her another bow as the servants picked up the palanquin and headed back toward the city's center. Peering through the curtains behind her, she watched him stride out of sight until he was lost in the crowds.

As Jet crossed the invisible lines that separated uptown Omashu from middle-class Omashu, then crossed over into working-class Omashu, he began to notice things he'd never seen before.

For one thing, the quality of street maintenance went from immaculate to haphazard. He noticed that the city's sanitation service didn't seem to pick up the garbage as often the further down the mountain he went either.

Then he passed a fountain near the leather shop. In contrast to the beautiful fountains in the upper rings of the city, this one was only half working and needed cleaning badly.

As he looked at the short line of people with large clay jugs waiting to fill them from the working spout, he also realized that this fountain was not merely decorative. It was an essential water supply for the people who lived in the area.

He'd known these things all along, but seeing the contrast between the areas of the city just drove it home to him. He began to wonder why the rest of the city wasn't being cared for as well. Who oversaw maintenance and water supply?

Making a mental note to ask about that—just to be sure King Bumi knew he needed to check into it, not that he meant to do anything about it himself—Jet walked into the leather shop.

Smellerbee and Longshot had been very impressed when Jet filled them in on all the happenings of the past several days. Smellerbee had in fact been speechless, so much so that Longshot had to do all the talking.

"I know," Jet laughed as he explained, "isn't it insane? They actually think I'm king material."

To his surprise, neither of his friends were laughing. Instead, they merely exchanged serious nods. At last, Longshot spoke up. "Don't make light of this, Jet," he warned. "You were born a leader. Why not of Omashu?"

"I've led gangs of criminals," Jet began. Then at Longshot's accusatory look, he added, "and one group of confused Freedom Fighters. I am not a king."

At last Smellerbee found her voice again. "It's you, Jet," she declared. "You're the one. I feel it."

"You guys are just as nuts as the rest of them," Jet responded dismissively. "Anyway, I've got to head back. I've got dinner plans."

"With King Bumi?" Smellerbee asked.

"Not hardly," Jet answered. "That won't be for a while yet. Toph thinks he'll want to test my bending abilities and she says I'm not ready." Then he leaned back in his chair and stretched, then gave them a big happy grin. "I've got dinner plans with Lady Mai of the Fire Nation."

Thus began a whole new round of questions and explanations as Jet filled them in—but only very briefly. It wasn't that he didn't want the guys to know, it was just that he wanted to keep things private—for Mai's sake. For some odd reason, he didn't want anyone talking about her, not even his friends.

But the afternoon was getting away from him and he headed back up toward the palace. Again, he noticed how everything got so much cleaner and brighter and better maintained as he headed uphill.

Once at the residential section main gate, he looked for the men who'd signed them out that morning. Unfortunately, they were no longer on duty. So to make things go quicker, he just pulled out the seal and presented it to the guard.

The guard took it in hand, then called over another couple of guards. "This one is really good," the big man said. "Almost good enough to get you in." Then without warning, the three men seized Jet and shoved him against the wall, taking his dagger from his belt and binding his hands behind him.

"What are you talking about?" Jet tried to ask, but the first guard just cuffed him across the face.

"How stupid do you guys think we are?" the guard asked savagely. "How many fake Fire Nation seals do you think we'll have to collect before you realize we've caught on?"

Then they dragged him through a set of iron clad doors and into what had to be the commander's office. "Got another one," the guard said as they approached a man sitting at a large desk. The guard handed over the Fire Nation seal.

Jet was relieved. This man would know the real thing when he saw it. Sure enough, the official scanned the front and back with an expert eye, then gave Jet a long measuring look.

"You must be Jet," the commander said, his voice silky and quiet. "We've been hoping you'd show up."

"Yes, I'm Jet," he replied. "Now that we've cleared that up, how about untying me?"

"I've got standing orders from the major domo of the Fire Nation Representative to arrest you on sight," the commander replied coldly, "for the crime of releasing an official seal to forgery."

"Wait a minute," Jet tried to explain. "This is all a misunderstanding." But the guard gave him another cuff on the face for his efforts and he felt his lip split open painfully.

"Come on, guys," he continued reasonably. "Get Lady Mai down here. She'll tell you what really happened. Or get the avatar. Or Prince Zuko. They'll vouch for me."

"Wow, this one has friends in seriously high places," another guard commented with a savage laugh. "Do you want us to call King Bumi too?"

"No, haven't had a chance to meet with him yet," Jet replied honestly and received yet another hard blow to the face for his trouble. He staggered a little with that one and tried to clear his vision, which had begun to blur.

"Take him downstairs," the commander ordered. "I'll let Master Tiandu know his search is over and the ringleader has been caught." Then he looked up at where Jet stood, blood running from his mouth, his eyes watering. "Jet, you'll be our guest for a very, very long time."

"What about trial? Due process? Everybody gets to send a message to their legal representative at least," Jet argued.

For his answer, the guard just slugged him again. This time the lights went out.

Earlier back at the diplomatic compound, Mai alighted from the palanquin and asked a bearer to take Jet's purchases to his quarters. Then, on a whim, she decided to accompany him. They were met at the door by the butler, who politely showed her inside.

"Master Jet will not be back until later this afternoon," Mai informed him. "But I am going to see that his purchases are placed in his room where he can find them." As the butler bowed and escorted her up the flights of stairs, she felt a little embarrassed by the thinness of her excuse to see his room.

She tried to justify it to herself by saying she was only curious to see the upper floor of the huge townhouse, having never been past the two main public floors before. But if she forced herself, she knew the real reason. She wanted to see where Jet slept.

She'd missed him the night before.

She'd missed the feeling of his arm around her, keeping her warm, keeping her close. She knew she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but knowing that Jet was right there beside her, ready to spring into action, had made her feel safe in a way she'd never felt before.

He'd defended her from the bandits and the grizzly wolverine without any hesitation, perfectly willing to put his own life in jeopardy for hers. No one had ever done that for her before. That recklessness for her sake resonated in her on a level she hadn't been aware of.

They entered the huge bedroom and her eyes widened a little. This place truly was palatial. She threw open the huge wardrobe doors to reveal Jet's few clothing items carefully put away by the staff.

"Just place those things on the bed," she instructed the servant holding the various boxes and bags from the shops. "I'll see that they are put away."

The servant nodded and placed them on the bed then walked out, followed by the butler, who carefully closed the door behind him.

Once she was alone, she indulged herself. She peeked into the huge bathing room, impressed with the gigantic tub. Then she sat down on the edge of the huge bed. Comfy. Toph's earth beds had been surprisingly comfortable, but this thing had it beat by a hundred, Mai decided.

Then she stretched out for a minute on the beautiful silken coverlet, letting one hand graze the pillow on the left hand side. Did he sleep on the left hand side when he was alone? she wondered.

She sat up and pulled the pillow into her arms. Then she leaned her face into it to see if she could catch any hint of that smell of evergreen, that warm scent of him.

After several moments, she shook herself a little self-consciously. She knew she'd better get to work actually doing what she said she was going to do and stop daydreaming about him.

So she stood and began to put away the few purchased items they'd been able to bring with them. She'd never felt much like a homey kind of person, but for some reason taking care of Jet was very satisfying. There were so many things he didn't know about fitting into this world. So many things she would be very capable of helping him with. She was glad.

After straightening the coverlet and giving his pillow one last smoothing touch, she sighed and made her way back downstairs.

She walked back to her suite across the compound and realized Zuko and Sokka were sparring in the bending grounds. Suki and Toph sat in the stands with Aang and Katara and the kids, all watching the action with interest.

"So, you guys are already back?" Katara asked as Mai took a seat among them.

"I am," Mai replied. "Jet went to see Smellerbee and Longshot."

In the ring before them, the two men traded blows. Mai could see that Zuko's speed and maneuverability was seriously hampered by his weak leg. However, it appeared that Sokka was perhaps even worse off.

"Come on, honey!" Suki encouraged from her seat. "You can get him!"

"Go, Daddy!" Zutara chimed in, jumping up from her seat to wave and cheer.

Even Toma and Bumi looked up from where they crouched in the sand, but the two little boys were much more intent on their own play to bother with anyone else's.

Sokka lunged desperately, buoyed by his family's enthusiasm and just almost managed to touch Zuko's chest before the firebender deftly stepped aside. Then Zuko slipped close and with a quick beat to Sokka's sword, made enough opening to pink him just on the shoulder.

"Hey, watch it!" Sokka yelped. "I felt that!"

"Quit griping, Sokka!" Toph called. "You're not bleeding."

"How would you know?" Sokka retorted. "You're blind."

"Oh, I see blood just fine," Toph stated with a grin.

"You want to go another round?" Zuko asked with a grimace, wiping his face with his hand.

"You sure you're up for it?" Sokka queried in reply, giving Zuko a hard look.

"Sure, I'm sure," Zuko responded firmly, giving his curved blades a swing and stretching his weak leg a bit.

Mai moved to sit next to Toph as the two men began again, their swords meeting each other in a series of ringing clashes.

"Are you sure Zuko's not overdoing it?" Mai asked Toph quietly.

"He is overdoing it," Toph answered. "He's working way too hard and is so going to pay the price for it tonight."

"Then why don't you stop him?" Mai couldn't help but ask. Zuko had been so sick. She'd hate for him to get like that again.

"He won't listen to me and he won't listen to Katara," Toph answered grimly. "But I'm keeping a close eye on him in my own way. Right now, he's just making himself really tired and really sore. If I think he's actually hurting himself, trust me—I'll let him know."

Then Toph sighed and turned to face Mai with a resigned look on her face. "But I know one thing for sure about Zuko. He's going to do what he's going to do," she sighed. "I can tell him what I think, but in the end it's his decision. All I can do is let him make the call and be ready to help him pick up the pieces if necessary."

Mai nodded, then the two women looked back into the ring, watching the men circle and trade blows, stirring up dust as their boots shuffled forward and back.

She'd dreamed about this in the swamp, Mai realized. Only in her dream it was Jet and Zuko sparring. In her mind's eye she could see them circle and lunge. But that was all she could remember.

For some reason, the memory gave her a sense of foreboding and she wondered where Jet was. She wished very much he was back.

Meanwhile in the holding cells deep below the surface of the city, Jet awoke to find himself stretched out on a hard wooden floor, his hands still bound painfully behind him. He groaned and tried to sit up, but his head swam and he grew sick at his stomach.

"Hey!" he heard a voice call. "Hey, guard! He's awake! He's awake!"

Jet looked up to see his old buddy Li chained to the wall across from him. Beside Li sat the small, one-eyed bandit leader, a man he'd vowed to kill if he ever set foot in Omashu again.

"Hey, guard!" Li yelled again. "He's awake!" Then he addressed Jet. "Now you're gonna get yours," he stated savagely and tried to spit across the room at him. Jet realized the two men looked very much the worse for wear, their shirts hanging in tatters, their faces bruised and swollen.

"We made sure that if these guys ever caught you, they'd throw you under the jail," Li snarled. "We told them everything--Boss," he finished sarcastically.

Jet shook the cobwebs from his brain and realized what they were saying. The leader had recognized Mai and knew Jet must have been her escort. When they'd been caught with the counterfeit seals, they'd just passed the buck on to him.

He sighed. He could only hope that Tiandu had heard that Jet had returned with the group as a guest. Surely, he'd at least find out from Mai what really happened before tossing him in the dungeon for the rest of his life.

As Li and the leader sat there glaring at him, Jet couldn't help but think to himself that this whole affair made a mockery of the Omashu justice system. No message out, no formal charges. He was being held purely on the orders of a higher ranking individual. It really galled him that he could be treated so badly with so little justification.

He wasn't aware that things would soon get much, much worse.

Zuko was also much the worse for wear, but for a completely different reason. He was sore, tired, and miserable from sparring with Sokka. Even though he'd managed to keep that black blade away from him, he still hurt all over from the effort.

He tried to assess himself to see if the hurt he felt was generic soreness or a sign that the symptoms of the bout with the venom were returning. With relief he decided that the pain felt like just plain hurt to him. He certainly didn't want to face Toph with another bout of that venom-driven agony on him.

She'd never say it—she'd never even make him feel like she wanted to say it—but he would say it to himself over and over—she told him so.

It was always that way when she was right and he was wrong, an event which happened more than he wanted to admit. He didn't know how in the world she managed to be so strong, so self-controlled. She never made him feel like he was being stupid or immature, even when he was. She always backed him, even when she knew he was making the wrong call.

That's not to say she didn't speak her mind. He recalled several times in the past where she'd told him exactly how she felt about an issue, but had always followed up with, "But it's your call, Sparky." Then she let it truly be his decision.

Sometimes it was wonderful. Sometimes making that final decision felt like he was accomplishing something, like he was really taking care of business.

But sometimes it was awful. Sometimes he was so torn over which way to go that in the end, he just went with his gut. When he was right, it felt fabulous. When it was wrong, it was a learning experience, to say the least.

He'd seen other married couples in their circle who fought, who tried to manipulate each other into making the decision they wanted, who sulked when they didn't get their way. But Toph seemed to run off some kind of assurance that whatever his final decision was, it would all work out okay.

And he noticed that it always did. Even when he screwed up, somehow her faith in him always helped him turn things around to be all right again.

He envied her peace and level-headedness, her constant assurance and positive outlook, her complete honesty with him and her complete acceptance of him. And he loved her so much it sometimes frightened him.

Just then she came in through the door, her eyes full of concern. It always amazed him how expressive her eyes could be, even though she didn't use them for her vision. She saw him differently than anyone else in the world—and he realized it wasn't just due to her earthbending. She saw a part of him nobody else could see. Mostly because he wouldn't show it to anyone else.

"How are you doing?" she asked with a little sympathetic laugh. She knew how he felt, he thought to himself. It would do him no good to try to lie about it.

"I'm miserable," he admitted. "I hurt all over."

She went to him then, a concerned little frown creasing her forehead. "How bad is it?" she asked.

"I'm just tired and sore from working too hard," he assured her, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders. "It's not like it was before. I promise."

"Good," she declared. "I told the rest of them that we were going to have dinner on our own tonight," she added. "I thought you might like some peace and quiet to recover."

"Thank you," he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Right now I just want to soak some of this out of my system."

"I can take care of that," Toph offered. "I'll get you a nice hot tub of water drawn up."

She headed into the bathing room and pulled the cord to signal the servants in the downstairs basement to start the water pump. Within minutes the oversized tub was filled and Zuko had slipped in for a long hot soak.

Just to be pernicious, Toph decided to join him. If he was going to work too hard and make himself too exhausted for fun, the least she could do was rub it in a little. Maybe next time he'd go a little easier on himself and save part of his energy for her.

Zuko watched her slip out of her dress and slide into the water with a little groan. She looked so beautiful, so soft, so touchable. And he was so tired.

She stretched out in the huge tub beside him. "Ooooh," she sighed. "This feels so good, doesn't it? The water is all warm and soft."

"You don't like the water," Zuko teased, flicking a little at her with his fingertips.

"I don't like deep water," she replied smartly. "I do like bathwater."

"But bathwater washes all the dirt off," he continued to tease. "You can't see me anymore."

"I don't need dirt to see you, Sparky," she answered warmly, sliding right up next to him. The feel of her skin against his brought a new rush of energy into his system and he pulled her across him, splashing a little water out of the tub in the process.

He sat up and pulled her close. Her bare skin felt as warm and soft as it looked. Then he kissed her throat and her shoulder. He could feel her hands rubbing the soreness and tension out of his back.

He looked at her again. The steam from the bath had brought a little pink flush to her cheeks and made her skin all dewy. Her lips were so red. He had to kiss her, so he did.

Then he began to trace patterns down her throat and across her skin with a wet fingertip, and she sighed with pleasure.

Zuko decided he wasn't that tired after all.