Alone time was always hard to find, living with the Freedom Fighters. There were just so many of them, and only so much room in their tree house home. True, there were many different rooms, but it wasn't as if there would ever be any one room that was unoccupied.

Everyone shared sleeping space. The Duke and Pipsqueak of course roomed together, along with Sneers. Smellerbee and Longshot shared a room with Jet. Everyone else scattered about, taking up whatever sleeping space they could find.

It was hard to have a budding relationship and keep it hushed.

Smellerbee wasn't really sure how it happened, and wasn't really concerned either. She just knew that something was happening between her and Longshot, and that something was as thrilling and exciting as fighting the Fire Nation.

She'd meet his gaze from time to time, and just be blown away by the expression he held for her. She didn't understand how Longshot did it, how he spoke volumes with just his eyes, but he did, and she could read all the wanting and caring and loving feelings he had for her.

Finding private time was important. Smellerbee didn't like mushy romantic things, and she especially didn't like showing weak things like emotions in front of others. She wasn't even okay with revealing her feelings around Longshot. She was the only girl in the Freedom Fighters, and that certainly wasn't an accident in itself. The world was sexist and she had to be twice as tough to be accepted as an equal. And, that was fine. Smellerbee never liked 'girly' things, and never would.

So she didn't know how to act when it all began, when she first started noticing the looks from Longshot, the ones he reserved only for her, and she sure as hell wasn't prepared for the flip flops in her stomach upon seeing said looks.

She was in denial for a while. She looked like a guy and acted like a guy, so maybe Longshot was just confused. Maybe she was confused; she'd heard rumors of women that coupled with other women, and they were rumored to usually be rather manish. That pretty much described Smellerbee, so maybe she was….?

No. That was quickly squashed as Smellerbee considered what would entail with being with another woman. Boobs were weird and other lady parts…. It made her feel a little gross just imagining having to do anything with another woman's….you know.

So that was out, there was no way she was a lesbian. She just looked like one. But that didn't explain Longshot's confusion. Was he…a gay? She'd heard rumors of that too. But, it took just one second's imagining of Longshot and Jet and she couldn't even look at them for a week.

No. There was just no way Longshot could ever go for a guy. No, it was just unthinkable.

So what was wrong with him, to want…her?

It wasn't that Smellerbee found herself to be repulsive. It just never crossed her mind that someone could want her.

Not that she'd ever ask Longshot about it. Hell no. She would rather spit twice and die.

So, for several weeks, she put up with the looks he gave her, and the fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach that she got from it, as well as the rare instances Longshot would touch her; a hand on her shoulder; his fingers brushing against her wrist; the rare moments Longshot would tend to a wound. And each time, Smellerbee's heart beat a little faster.

This was so confusing! All these emotions! Smellerbee didn't like them. She wanted things to be simple, like before she started developing as a woman. Not that she had developed much. She bled once a month (and somehow all the Freedom Fighters knew this and avoided her like the plague then), gained a slight curve to her hips and had developed the smallest of breasts. It was with this new change that the new feelings came and she didn't like that, not one bit.

Even if it was really nice when Longshot gave her a smile, or patted her shoulder.

See? The feelings were stupid and confusing.

And sharing a room- man, sometimes Smellerbee didn't know if it was a great thing that Jet was in there too, or if it sucked. She did have this strange wanting to be closer to Longshot, but that scared her a little, and so it was good that Jet slept in the same room as them. But, sometimes, just before Jet blew out the candle, she'd glance over at Longshot and he'd have that look, and she'd just want to cross the room, and be near him and….

And what? Smellerbee wasn't sure, but it probably involved kissing.

Kissing. Just a few years ago, kissing was gross and reserved only for adults, and now, she found herself yearning to kiss Longshot, and if Longshot's expression was any indication, he felt the same way.

Whatever. It was weird and she did not want to think about that, never.

But even if she didn't want to think about that, there was still need for alone time- without Longshot, too. There was little down time for the Freedom Fighters, but Smellerbee leapt on the chance to stray from the group for an hour or so, whenever the opportunity arose. She didn't like to practice her knife throwing around the others. Then it turned into a competition usually, which could be fun, but sometimes she just wanted to practice and be hard on herself and get better at it.

And then, one day, she was given such an opportunity. There wasn't a Fire Nation army within ten miles of their tree house, and things were slow. Jet had no specific tasks for anyone, and so, Smellerbee took the moment to leave the tree house and return to the forest floor. She walked off, putting some space between herself and her current home; if, for any reason, some Fire Nation people came upon her, she wouldn't be so close to the tree house to give them suspicion of where she hailed from.

Finding a tree that would serve as a perfect target, she began to practice, aiming and throwing quickly, and beating herself up when she was off, even by a little bit.

She carried on like this, uninterrupted, for all of fifteen minutes.

Every few minutes, she'd walk up to the tree, to retrieve her knives, and one time, after pulling them from the tree trunk, she turned to find Longshot standing just a few feet behind where she'd been standing. She froze; how long had Longshot been there? Not that she'd done anything embarrassing or anything, it was just startling to find him there.

He didn't say anything, but that wasn't unusual. But neither did Smellerbee, and that was unusual. Smellerbee always greeted Longshot, but she couldn't now. She felt frozen and small and rather much like a girl with how he was looking at her.

He always spoke volumes with his eyes. It was enviable.

And right now, Smellerbee could feel that something was going to happen, and she was equal parts scared and excited, and nervous that she'd do something stupid that would ruin that something.

Neither moved for a moment, and it wasn't until a hawk called from somewhere above them that Smellerbee jolted out of it. She looked away, and fumbled a little with her knives, trying to put them away in a case she had attached at her hip. Finished with that (and did so without hurting herself in the process), she looked up to see Longshot walking over to her.

She said nothing until he was right there and realized that, hey, she should say something. "Hey Longshot," she said, making a face as her voice cracked a little. Come on now! It was just Longshot. It wasn't like she didn't see him on a daily basis, or were never this close. It was just Longshot; Longshot who was tall, and straight, and…and manly and…and…

And he was pushing his hat back, letting it fall off his head and hang down his back, and that movement confused Smellerbee. Longshot always wore his hat, unless they were inside, and even then, it was rare for him to take it off.

And then he was moving in closer and Smellerbee had the sudden urge to say something, anything.

"You have hat hair."

Smellerbee didn't know what the right thing to say at the moment, but that was certainly not it. That look left Longshot's face rather quickly, and he reached up to touch his hair a little. She was certain no one had ever told him that before.

Now Longshot didn't seem as confident and tall and manly as before. He was suddenly just another gangly teen, and seemed just as unsure about things as she did. This wasn't right. Longshot was supposed to always be sure. He was supposed to always know what to do or how to act. He was there for moral guidance, damn it!

"That came out wrong," Smellerbee said quickly. "I mean, I didn't mean to say it at all. I don't know why I did. I don't know anything about hair anyway."

Longshot smiled then. Sort of. Longshot never really smiled, and Smellerbee knew what was a genuine Longshot smile. This wasn't really. It was kind of…forced, probably just to appease her. She'd have to do something else.

"…I was just practicing," she said, glancing back at the tree that had served as her target. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Longshot shrugged. He'd wanted to know where she'd gone. And, something else, but Smellerbee couldn't tell what.

"And what?" Smellerbee asked.

If a facial expression could stutter, that's what was going on with Longshot right now. He didn't want to answer that, or know how. It was so weird to see Longshot like this. He was always so stoic, so sure of everything.

Smellerbee didn't like it. "Just spit it out," she said, a little annoyed that Longshot would be unsure of himself. It just wasn't allowed. "It's just me, jeez."

And then came a small, barely there, genuine smile, and that familiar flip-flopping feeling occurred in her stomach again. That idea of something happening was back, and Smellerbee fought to hold her tongue. She was terrified of what was going to happen, but there was also this unending curiosity of finding out what was going to happen.

Longshot took another small step closer to her- they were so close now!- and Smellerbee was struck by how much taller he was than her. She was tiny; he was tall. This was…this was strange. She'd never had to look up at him so much before. But they'd never stood this close before.

He put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked at it, confused and wanting to ask about it, but she wasn't supposed to talk right now. It'd ruin whatever was happening, and make it stop before she found out what was going on. And she needed to find out. Her heart was racing.

When she looked back at Longshot, he was already leaning in, and suddenly, Smellerbee understood and was more excited and terrified than ever before.

She was about to get her first kiss.

What was she supposed to do during the kiss? Should she close her eyes, or keep them open? Should she have her mouth open or closed? Was she supposed to touch Longshot? Those and dozens of other questions raced through her head in the microseconds it took for Longshot to lean in and press his lips to hers.

Smellerbee couldn't breathe.

It wasn't to say the kiss was magical, that it filled her with such warm feelings she felt like a true girl or that there were fireworks exploding in the background. It was just a simple kiss.

But it was her first kiss, and Longshot had given it to her. And for that reason alone, it was the most special, most wonderful thing anyone had ever given her.

Neither spoke after the kiss. Smellerbee didn't know what to say after that. She couldn't figure it out. And Longshot didn't talk, so he didn't have anything to worry about. He never had to worry about finding the right words. Longshot had one of his real smiles now, that small, barely there, hint of a smile, and he was staring at her intently, and it was then that Smellerbee felt warm and like a real girl.

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