Dustin was sort of jazzed, really. He SHOULD be in class, and usually he didn't work during the day. Largely because his half-assed costume didn't exactly hold up to daytime perusal. But he'd been near enough to see the smoke, and he HAD watched firefighters work well enough that his body knew what to do, and common sense had the rest. It wasn't a job well-suited to his powers really. But well. . . he was there.
Luckily the people he had to help out weren't that heavy, or there might have been more of a problem. As it was, his back sort of hurt.
He helped them out, flushed at the attention from the gathering crews and audiences, and then somehow managed to dodge it all, coming out in back of the building free of his mask. . . he had on the same jeans, but luckily he'd had a jacket stashed to pull on over the shirt, and he'd hidden the mask.
Of course he did still have a large dash of soot on his nose when he walked by Edward, and his cheeks looked flushed with exertion and exhilaration from the whole ordeal. And he smelled like ashes, but that was pretty much the whole neighborhood at this point. He saw Edward, stopping for a second to try to see if he'd been watching the whole time to see where he came from, and then decided he was being paranoid, just giving the man a quick nod and a warmer smile than Dustin usually gave to people in passing - he was still jazzed from having SAVED people from a FIRE.