Warmth- A Longerbee Story

Quietly the soft snow fell down in dizzying dance patterns that mocked all attempts to imitate their ethereal grace. The blade sharp contrast the white flakes made against the thick soft black night etched painful beauty into the young girls eyes, beauty which was not lost to the girl despite her boyish appearance and mannerisms. It was the middle of winter, and Smellerbee was outside. The cold stung at her nose and cheeks adding the natural rouge that no powder could fake.
The snow she thought mystified by the frozen water crystals. They said she was in love with Jet. And that was true. She was in love with what he represented. Jet was an idea, wrapped in flesh, and she loved that idea. But whenever she thought of boys, another always crept in to her mind. His deep dark eyes that could communicate a lifetimes worth of words in a moment and yet say nothing at all, his strong mouth and jaw that Smellerbee dreamed of kissing, his hard body, conditioned from a long childhood of climbing trees and shooting arrows, that had her up for nights dreaming of the illicit things she could do to it. Smellerbee drew of with a sigh that disturbed the falling snow around her. The tiny miracles flew into new patterns with the unexpected shift in the air and the young freedom fighter drew more into her own thoughts. She wasn’t going to lie growing up with guys wasn’t the easiest thing. She grew up completely ignorant of her own body or of other things girls her age should know. Like when she first started her monthly blood.
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She had woke up in pain, not knowing what for Smellerbee had simply groaned and rolled over in her bed. It was then she felt a wet trickle down her thighs.
“Oh shit.” She whispered fearing she had done the unforgivable and had wet her bed like a little four year old. Groaning again Smellerbee threw the sheets over her head determined to stay there all day if need be. An hour after she managed to get back to sleep (might as well, she figured, nothing else to do) than Duke barged into her room making a huge ruckus.
“HEY SMELLERBEE!” He began to yell, until he notice she was completely underneath the covers, something she usually only did when she was sick hurt or upset. Then he noticed the blood. In a flash he was outside and screaming at the top of his lungs for a doctor. Jet, off in another tree with Pipsqueak Sneers and Longshot, all ran to the young boy to see what the commotion was. The breathy reply sent a shot of panic into the hearts of them and in a second all of them where crowding into Smellerbee’s rooms.
“Holy shit!” Pipsqueak yelped. Smellerbee eeped and dove under her bed sheets to hide. Jet surveyed the situation before speaking.
“Did someone hurt you last night?” Smellerbee poked her head out from underneath her blankets to shake her head, uncharacteristically shy for once.
“Hmmm… did something happen last night that would have caused you to bleed like this?” Another ‘no’. The questions when on until Jet finally delivered his judgment on the situation.
“Hm, well then the only other possible explanation is that you’ve finally hit puberty.” Blank stares regarded him from all sides until Jet realized, he was the oldest and most physically mature person present. Meaning they never had The Talk and didn’t know what was happening to their bodies. Jet cleared his throat and wiped his face with his hand.
“Oh boy, well I was hoping to never have to do this with you but seeing as how little Smeller’ here went a head and dashed my plans to let you figure it out on your own well here’s goes… AHEM, er, well when a Mommy and a Daddy love each other very much…” he began and thus started the most awkward, humiliating, and frankly gross conversations the Freedom Fighters ever had to endure. And three hours later Jet concluded and left the room to relieve his own embarrassment about having to give Sex-Ed to a bunch of kinds only a few years younger to him. Twenty minutes after he left Smellerbee had come out of her shock and looked at the door that he retreated from and decided: Maybe I don’t like him as much as I thought I did… in fact I’m pretty sure I don’t.
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Thinking back on that day now merely brought laughter, not humiliation and thoughts of revenge for making her go through that. She let out a low chuckle when she remembered poor Longshot. His face was such a shade of red that in all of her life she had never found a match. She was sure that just about every drop of blood in his entire body had pooled in his face. She chuckled again this time a little longer and louder than before. A stiff breeze picked up and Smellerbee shivered from the cold, her fingers had gone numb along time ago, but there was nothing to do for them except pray they don’t get frost bitten. The snow started to come down more heavily now that the temperature had dropped again. Her breath puffed in short white bursts and she curled her toes in her boots. She remembered the night when she discovered her feelings for the silent archer. It was a night almost exactly like this one, except that it was completely different.
It was the middle of summer and the heat was just as devastating as the cold is now. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sweat dripped off her and she longed to pull off her heavy hot breastplate. Hell she longed to pull off all of her clothing and just sit there in the buff. Except things were awkward ever since Jet had given them that… lecture? Lesson? Torture session? Even though it had been over two years ago things still never went back to the way they were. Though there were some bright sides to it Longshot now gave her funny looks that made her stomach twist and flutter, if that was really a bright side. And the guys gave her a little more respect now. Smellerbee sighed.
And besides she reasoned, Jet would kill you for taking off your protective armor simply because it was hot. Especially since you’re supposed to be on watch.  Sighing she reclined onto the truck of the tree from her position at the base of a branch. Another twenty minutes passed and Smellerbee squirmed uncomfortably.
“Ah screw it,” she muttered to herself. “Not even a firebender would be out in this nasty ass muggy heat.” She grumbled and loosened her plate to have it come off.  Finally the last strap gave to her fingers and she gently rested it up against the tree behind her. The dim torches the Freedom Fighters used provided ample lighting to see the section of the perimeter she was supposed to monitor for the night. ‘Ahh’ing relief Smellerbee reclined against the cool metal of the outside of her breastplate and got ready to spend another uneventful night of watch duty in the outer part of their territory, the part where very very very few outside the gang ever ventured into. A twig snapped and the short scrapper suddenly jerked to life.
Shit! Just my damn luck! The one time I take it easy is the one time some firebender jack-off comes wandering though my area! There was no time to mess with her breastplate. Ooh boy Jet was going to be furious! But, what’s done is done. Smellerbee crouched on the branch her dagger drawn ready to strike down the bastard when Longshot came into view. Heaving a sigh of relief Smellerbee was about to call out to her friend when she noticed he was acting kind of strange. First off he walked right by her like she wasn’t even there, and two it was very careless of him to step on the stick. And thirdly he was dressed odd. His hat, shall, and bandages were gone. But his bow and quiver where present. Watching him in silent curiosity Smellerbee leaned forwards to rest on her stomach while keeping him in her line of sight. Soon what he was doing became obvious. Target practice.
He must practice at night because he knows that everyone would be sound asleep and wouldn’t bother him. She thought and settled in to watch him fascinated by his slow steady sensual movements.
Whoa! Wait! Longshot? Sensual?! Completely freaked by her thoughts Smellerbee forced herself to calm down and think about it.
Well, I suppose he could be considered sensual after all archery is a very sensual sport! It’s all slow and careful and precise. And his movements with a bow are very graceful and measured. Smellerbee watched him and wondered what it’d be like being at the mercy of those oh so deft hands. She shook her head to be rid of those kinds of thoughts.
What the hell’s wrong with me? She mentally roared. That’s Longshot you sicko! He’s your friend! But that still didn’t stop her from watching his every move.  Still didn’t stop her from seeing him as a male for once, an attractive one at that. Arrow after arrow embedded themselves in their respective trees and the night wore on with Longshot making bull’s-eye after bull’s-eye, and Smellerbee growing to appreciate him in a completely different light.  And when the heat grew to be unbearable Longshot did something that the tiny girl would have never under any circumstance ever believed possible of him. Smellerbee gasped loudly. He took off his shirt.


Smellerbee swallowed hard. Her mouth gone horribly dry. It wasn’t that he had a beautiful body; his back was scarred, faint lines crossed and a large burn scar marred the pale skin. A particular scar stretched around to his stomach, which, to her annoyance, was hidden from her view. But these scars were what made him all the more desirable to her. Her eyes roamed across the lean wiry slightly muscled scared back, which inevitably lead to her eyes drifting down to his butt, it was a very nice butt at that. It was tight and firm. She watched hungrily as he knocked another arrow his muscles rippling and suddenly a flood of saliva entered her mouth and she swallowed again. Longshot seemed to have dropped something and Smellerbee hastily wiped away the drool as he bent over to retrieve it. And when he turned around, she almost fell out of the tree! He seemed to be looking for something, but that was the furthest thing from her mind as she stared at his naked chest. He had the body of an acrobat. The shear plains and valleys his chest and stomach made sent electric currents through her belly leaving waves of white hot flame spreading through out her veins making the night even more unbearable. Her gaze danced along the rigid lines of his wiry build before daring the jump to his pants. Blushing at both his state of undress and her boldness she turned before he caught her staring. A faint rustling sound came from behind her and then he entered her vision again this time walking away, fully dressed, his shoulders slightly slumped from what she assumed to be fatigue. He left her sight and she longed to join him, to wherever he led to, so long as he left his shirt off. Before she had time to sort these new thoughts for her friend out of her head Sneers came to relieve her of her post. Grabbing her breastplate, Smellerbee went the way beck to her tree; her head full of confusing thoughts, like when had Longshot stopped being good old Longshot and became something more? Obviously it had been sometime ago. Just exactly when escaped her. Swinging herself up onto the branch Smellerbee devoted her new, restless, energy to pondering this weighty question; she supposed she had always liked him, after she got over Jet of course. It’s just that… maybe, just maybe, tonight opened her eyes to how much? Now that she thought of it, she figured out that she had always admired him. For his cool calm collect demeanor, for his tall stature, for his quiet strength, to quote those crappy romance novels Jet had gotten for her (he claimed that he had no idea what they were or why they were in her room, that or he insinuated that she, herself, had gotten them and was trying to pin the blame on him. Never the less, some of the scenes in there were quite… interesting to say the least.) Regardless, Smellerbee now mentally kicked herself for not noticing him that way before. Her head now buzzing with this new, and a tiny bit frightening, revelation, the small fighter got ready for bed and slid underneath the covers and blew out the light.
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Smellerbee shivered as the cold pulled her back from that particular memory, and while the image of Longshot stripped to the waist was a rather warming one, the cold air kept those thoughts effectively at bay. Briefly she was tempted to run to her tree real quick and grab a blanket or something, but decided no to because all that would mean was that she would have a wet blanket to sleep in when her shift was over. Besides it was too cold to move. Staring down at her hand she cried out softly as she saw the color blue they were turning. If she didn’t warm up soon she would have a nasty case of frost bite. Tucking her fingers underneath her arms, Smellerbee was torn between two conflicting things. Duty and Honor told her to stay, that it was her job to do so. Self-preservation said: Fuck that! And argued fiercely to not stay out in the cold any longer.
What would Jet do? She found herself asking for the hundredth time. Jet would have stayed out here like a good leader. But he also wouldn’t have wanted her to stay out and risk hypothermia. Pulling her slightly warmer fingers out she rubbed her arms and fervidly promised herself, that if she lived through-out her watch tonight, that tomorrow, assuming she wasn’t sicker than all hell, she would go into town and buy herself nice new set of winter clothes, that fit her, and didn’t have holes in them because they were hand me downs, or smelled like rotting cheese. So consumed in her thoughts about new clothes, Smellerbee didn’t notice Longshot come up behind her until her wrapped a blanket around her.


Longshot wondered what she was thinking of that had her so consumed that she didn’t notice his presence. It was cold outside, so cold in fact, that Longshot was extremely glad to have the best blanket in the entire camp. And while normally it would get so stuffy and hot in his cabins, the frigid winters made up for it. Usually he slept soundly during the winter days, but tonight he found his traitorous teenaged mind would not shut off for the night. It kept supplying him with images from the morning when Smellerbee had discovered the season’s first snow. Cute little images of her romping in the snow playfully, was turned into dangerous pictures of just what he could do to her in the snow. Dangerous because is she ever discovered he thought like that about her she’d chase his ass all the way to the South Pole and back.  Gently the silent boy took her icy hands in his, rubbing them to help regain lost warmth and circulation. He marveled at her tiny calloused, cracked, and blistered hands. He ran his thumb over her finger tips feeling her nails chewed to the quick. He remembered the time that these rough hands had been her only saving grace. It had been right after it had been revealed that she was indeed a female.
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Longshot watched out of the corner of his eye as his friend Smellerbee made a nearly fatal mistake and caught a dagger to his gut. It was a simply stab fortunately so there was no fear of the ferocious little man loosing his gut. But, the wound still needed to be closed before infection set in. So after the last remnants of the band of firebenders had been dealt with everyone crowded around the small boy, to look on in worried anxiousness. Jet handed the serious boy a needle and backed away to supervise. Longshot placed the needle in between his teeth to free up his hands.  He dug at the leather straps until they loosened and he pried off the surprisingly heavy plate. A gasp went around the crowd but Longshot ignored it. He felt Jet place his hand on his shoulder to stop him, but Longshot shrugged off the hand determined to finish what he started. The brown wool shirt was wet with blood. Longshot knew he had limited time left. The heavily flowing blood both a blessing, as it kept the wound clean, and a curse, as it was likely Smellerbee would lose too much blood soon. Not bothering with trying to salvage the shirt Longshot cleanly sliced it up the middle not looking to see where he cut. When he pulled the ruined shirt open he froze. Males don’t have indented figures. Gulping quietly he chanced a look up, to see if he was merely mistaken. It took a moment for the sight of her budding pre-adolescence chest to register. The young boy flushed a bright red color and looked down to his own knees.  It was a heartbeat or two before he shook his head and continued on with his original plan. Jet grabbed his shoulders to stop him. Longshot whirled around in his sitting position and gave the young rebel leader a look that read: She save your ass several times, this is the least we could do for her. The oldest boy sighed and let go of the archer. Biting back a grimace the archer threaded the needle through soft flesh. Longshot always hated this particular part. He remembered when he needed stitches, unfortunately for him there was no time or anesthesia or rendering him unconscious, the memory of the pain of the needle jabbing him and then the feel of the thick course waxed thread running through his flesh still made his shudder in repulse. When he was finished, the boy wrapped his companion in white cotton bandages that someone had went to retrieve. Then he took his red shall off and wrapped her in it to give her some privacy. With a gentleness no one knew Sneers to possess, he took the small girl into his arms and went off with her to take her back to her tree. Everyone else soon followed. The quietness around the campsite was disturbing. But no one had the gall to disrupt it. Smellerbee hadn’t woken up and Jet was deciding on whether or not she should still be aloud to live with them. Longshot moved to sit next to his leader. They sat far enough away from the rest of the freedom fighters to not be over heard but close enough to keep an eye on them.
“I should throw her out.” Jet whispered. Longshot looked at him.
“Yeah I know she saved my ass several times. But still I can’t afford having a distraction like this.” Again Longshot merely looked at him not saying or expressing a word.
“I mean what if next time we go off against the Firenation and everyone’s so concerned with protecting Smellerbee that we end up getting caught or something?” Longshot looked away from the leader with a tiny smirk on his lips knowing that his friend would stay.
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The Archer let her pulled back her hands after he was done warming them up properly. He sat next to her slumped simply letting the snowdrift in-between them. The swirling flakes danced in front of him as if in their chaotic pattern they told the destiny of the world. He felt her shift and squirm for a moment before settling. Longshot sucked his teeth as he sat there watching the snow gather on them.
“You know simply because Jet would have froze his balls off before admitting a weakness, doesn’t mean you have to.” He commented dryly.  Smellerbee looked at him with wide eyes. He always knew how to decipher her.
It isn’t hard, He would always think whenever she had that particularly endearing expression on her face. His perceptions of the minute tics of her body, which he had spent many a long and drowsy summer-days watching, studying, memorizing.  That summer, to which now seemed an eternity ago, he had sacrificed his modesty to put on that performance for her.
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The sun set in its usual fiery display, promising the children of the earth who toiled underneath him that though it was the end if his temporary reign he would in fact come again, much like his Firebending followers. Longshot hated the sun. Much preferring the sweet and gentle moon who inspired thoughts of romance and poetry. Sending a small prayer to the rising moon that his plan would not go awry, the silent boy merely donned his cotton shit and trousers, forgoing the stifling bandages shall and hat, grabbed his bow and quiver of arrows and set off into her direction. The stars were out winking at him beginning him to stop and join them. To become lost in the immeasurable depth of their opulence. But he had another goddess of sorts to be entertaining. A goddess with short frizzy hair and war-painted cheeks.

He arrived half an hour later and the heat was killing him already. There she was already a step ahead of him, her breastplate removed and serving as a backrest for her. He strode forward pretending he didn’t know she was there purposely stepping on a twig to make some sort of sound to draw her attention. He continued forward until he came to be roughly fifty paces away from the target. Then slowly, feeling her eyes on his movements, he nocked the arrow, and let it fly. He continued this until her felt that her attention wasn’t fully on his anymore. Longshot smirked, this had to be remedied. In a deft and fluid movement, brought on by his encouragement and peeled his sweat soaked shirt off and felt himself become even more emboldened by her gasp. Even while half nude, and thoroughly uncomfortable, Longshot had a difficult time holding back the smile that threatened to crack his face. The burning sensation of her gaze traveled across his back as he continued to do ‘archery practice’. Till finally it landed on his butt. And lingered there. Fumbling in embarrassment he dropped an arrow and bent to retrieve it. The teen turned around to look at her to see if she was still watching, torn between praying she wasn’t praying attention to his stupidity and wishing she was staring out right. She looked away. Dejected and spent, he pulled his shirt back on and walked away trying to think of something else to gain her attention.
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Longshot rubbed his arms noting how bitterly nasty the weather was. In the time between when he first came out and now it had to have dropped quite a bit in temperature. Once again he tried to entreat he to give up watch and get inside out of the cold.
“No soul’s going to brave this weather to attack us, we’re not that important to them. Go on inside Smellerbee.” After a minute or so she nodded and gave him back his blanket.
Great, he mentally grumbled. It’s wet. He stayed out until he was sure she had gone back inside, then followed suit.

Smellerbee had gotten underneath her covers twenty minutes ago, and still she was cold.
Poor Longshot, and his blankets wet too. Biting her lip, the blade wielder thought of away to accomplish her desire, without sounding… childish, or whoreish. Then she blinked and grinned.
Perfect.

A thudding knock at his door roused Longshot from his uncomfortably cold damp bed. Already in a foul mood he got ready to verbally rip apart whomever it was that had dared to wake him went he had just gotten able to ignore the cold and almost sleep. He flung open the door and was ready to snap when he saw to it was, and his waspish greeting died on his lips.
“Um… can I come in? It’s really cold out here.” Dumbly he moved out of the way for her to enter.
“Uh, your probably wondering what I’m doing here well… er you see it’s really cold and your blanket’s wet and mine thin and two people are warmer then one and…” She never finished her sentence. In the moment it took Longshot to decipher her babbling he had scooped her up threw his wet covering off and tucked them both in underneath her dry ones. The boy craned up to blow out is candle and sank into his mattress holding her close. In the moments it took Smellerbee to figure out what happened she was far too warm and comfy to care. Twisting in her spot she looked at Longshot’s slumbering face. And decided that she’d tell him she loved him…


First thing in the morning.