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Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or any of the characters and such.

Author's Notes: This is my first Full Metal Alchemist fiction. I've recently been entirely obsessed with the show just having recently finished the series. I'm a huge RizaxRoy fan. And the idea for this fic occurred to me earlier while I was reading fanfiction on this site. This is purely fiction based off of events from the anime.
It's also one shot but divited up into parts so far. The next part will be Roy and all.

Romance in The Military
Best friends were hard to come by in the military. Most everyone was so professional and so proud. But not Maes Hughes. He was himself to the very end. It used to annoy the living hell out of Roy Mustang, back in the early days when they were first accepted into the military. He was loud, exuberant, wild, and completely unprofessional. While Roy was arrogant, reserved, and quite professional. Nights when they’d be sitting at the bar in Central Roy could usually be caught lecturing Maes on military conduct and what was deemed appropriate and inappropriate at the office.

The war had changed everything though. It was where they split. Maes wasn’t fond of going to battle and killing, orders or no. A desk job was just thing for him, or so he told his friend. Roy however, a talented young alchemist, counted upon this chance to display his skills having recently been accepted as an official State Alchemist. Maes didn’t understand alchemy, thought it was silly albeit a neat trick. Why mess with the natural laws of the world he thought.

- - - - - - - -

Maes yawned and stretched back in his seat a look of utter boredom on his face. It had been a long day full of nothing. And the worst part was, he had only been at work for three hours. This meant he had another six hours full of nothing ahead of him. Officer Hughes was officially the social attendant of the Military/Citizen Affairs office. A professional way of saying Customer Service Secretary.

He sighed and continued sorting through his stack of recently developed photos. They were of him and his best mate, Roy on Roy’s last day in Central. He’d been called to go serve in the Ishbal Rebellion in the East just last week, so they had spent the day together along with a couple other officers he would be serving with, Major Armstrong and Sergeant Hawkeye. Being the wanna-be photographer that he was, Maes had captured almost every second of their day on seven rolls of film. It was unfortunate, in his opinion, that Major Armstrong and his muscles took up at least three rolls by itself. The Major’s insistence of course.

There were a few of them that he liked of the sergeant and Roy. In one she was point a gun at him and his hands were in the air. One of them had been resting on her backside before she pulled out the gun. Hughes had suggested to his friend after the others had left that he take the girl out. And much like the alchemist, in a complete oxymoron explained that she would never let him and likely shoot him in the head before he got the chance and that it would mean settling on a girl, and it would disappoint so many others. Roy then proceeded to tell him that he needed to get himself a girlfriend anyway.

Well yeah sure, Roy. She’ll just walk right in and ask to marry me, he thought setting the pictures in a strangely organized pile. Just because his best friend was a lady killer didn’t mean that he was. As he placed a picture of him bugging Roy by poking him in the sides in a separate stack a soft voice broke his ‘hard working concentration’.

“Excuse me?”

Pushing his glasses up, as they had fallen down in his surprise, Maes looked up. Standing there was a woman he guessed to be around his age. She had light brown hair that reached her shoulders and dull green eyes. Her figure wasn’t exactly what you would call belonging to a model. In fact, she was a little on the chubby end, with a round face. But she wasn’t ugly either.

“Uh… Can I help you Miss?”

“Yes. I called yesterday, I’d like to see Lieutenant Merkoff.”

“You have an appointment then. Name please?”

Technically he didn’t need her name. All he had to do was check to see of Lt. Markoff had anything scheduled for the morning and let her in. But he wanted her name. If he’d learned anything from his friend it was take what opportunities are presented to you. And while it wasn’t necessarily love at first sight, he was certainly attracted to her. Besides he wouldn’t ask her on a date necessarily, but he did want to get to know her better.

“Gracia Moore.”

Gracia Moore. Mustang’s voice in his head, I’d certainly like to see more of Gracia. He crushed it and grinned at her. “Go right ahead Miss Gracia, I’m sure the Lieutenant is waiting on the edge of his seat to hear you out.” He tone was playful and he winked at her. “Seriously, good luck. Merkoff can be a real hard head sometimes. Hope he listens to you.”

She smiled at him as she passed the front desk entering the office marked Merkoff; Lt. Maes hoped that last gesture put him in good graces with her so she would at least consider his offer to maybe have coffee with him after he got off work.

Approximately an hour later Gracia came dragging out of the office looking worn out and defeated. Obviously things had not gone well for her. Maes pasted his usual grin on his face and waved to her as she went by the desk

“Hey! How’d it go?”

She glanced at him and smiled at his enthusiastic nature, “Not so well. Unfortunately what I had to say wasn’t important enough. It seems that mistreatment of minors from officers isn’t a big deal to someone such as him.”

“Mistreatment of minors. That sounds serious to me.” He leaned forward elbow holding his chin up.

“Thank you! At least someone understands. The locally stationed officers have been pushing around kids and making them do menial things for them like picking them up snacks at the store. And if the kids don’t comply they get yelled at or even beaten sometimes.”

“And Merkoff won’t do anything about that? That seems pretty bad. Maybe if I go talk to him…”

“Oh no. Don’t trouble yourself over it.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I do what I can to help a pretty lady.”

She laughed then, a light musical sound. “Oh, is that all this is. To help a pretty lady?”

He gave her a mock astonished look, “I am offended Miss Gracia. Certainly I, Maes Hughes would do something good for more than just the attention and perhaps coffee later of a pretty lady. I do it out of the goodness of my heart.” He thought it smooth how he slipped his name and offer into that last sentence. God, was he a genius. If only Roy could see him now.

She studied him a moment, tilting her head to the side. His glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose again, and his face was eager like that of a child. He seemed nice and polite so far, and had made Gracia feel better after that battle with the lieutenant. She could tell he had a sense of humor too. What could coffee hurt?

Her head still tilted she placed her index finger against her cheek as if in deep thought and rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling. “Coffee? With Maes Hughes? I don’t suppose that would be a bad idea. What time would I have to be there though? And where?”

He chuckled delighted to see that she was playing along. This might prove to be successful after all. “Well Officer Hughes will be at the café three blocks from here around six.”

She smiled, “Six it is then.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Roy had heard the story of Maes’ and Gracia’s first date at the café many times. It was almost always the same with slight differences as a story gets when retold over and over. They talked and he had made a complete idiot out of himself as he always did. Only she came back to see him a couple days later, dropping by regularly when he got off work to visit. A month later he asked her out, and three months after that they were engaged soon to be married.

During most of this time the Colonel had been in Ishbal, then only a Major. A newly initiated State Alchemist who was ready to prove himself in battle and show off. The Eastern Rebellion had gained him fame, name, and rank. But it had left him haunted and tainted. While his best friend was getting to know and fall in love with a woman he was destroying lives. Hardly any time for romance in Ishbal.

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Poor Roy. But yay for Maes and Gracia! n__n Keep going, it's good. :3
That was really good for your first try at FMA ^^

I hope to see more of it sooon
biggrin.gif Loved the chapter! update soon! with some royai................. smile.gif lol
Okay. This is the next part. It's Roy at the beginning of his time in Ishbal. It's in flashback and all. And just for reference all the alchemists at this point are Majors, Havoc and Hawkeye are Sergeants, and Gran is their commanding officer and a colonel. I wasn't exactly sure of everyone's positions during Ishbal so I took a random semi-educated guess.

After this part it will move away from the romance idea, and focus more on the war aspect. Eventually though it will lead back to some romance. And I will include some more HughesxGracia, but much later. Currently the focus is on Roy.

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Major Roy Mustang, newly appointed Flame Alchemist, self-claimed womanizer, and full of deadly potential was to be sent to the front lines of the Eastern Rebellion along with a few other state alchemists and a few extra support troops. They were the control, a nice way of saying the clean up crew. As far as anyone knew the rebellion was well under control.

They were under the authority of *Colonel Basque Gran, the infamous Iron Blood Alchemist. He was a ruthless man, with only one thought in mind for this ‘rebellion’, which the Colonel liked to call a war; Victory. Victory in any means necessary which the rest of them soon found out.

Riza Hawkeye, at this point a simple Sergeant sighed as she made her way around the Military camp. She was searching for her superior Major Mustang, because the Colonel had requested his presence along with the other Alchemists among them. Sergeant Havoc had been sent to fetch Armstrong and Kimblee. Riza had already found Dr. Marcoh and sent him on his way.

The Sergeant thought she had a fairly good idea of where she would find the Flame Alchemist. She’d only spent about a week with him, but his habits were not hard to pin. To put it bluntly, as she always did, he was a slacker. And if her thoughts were correct he would be sleeping in his tent, while he should be out scouting the area.

Reaching his quarters she found that she had predicted the situation exactly. He was sprawled on the stiff military issue mattress, his uniform top undone revealing the white shirt beneath it. His boots were haphazardly strewn of the floor as if he kicked them off without much thought to it, and his hair was a mess. A brief thought of him looking adorable flashed through her mind before she quickly threw it out. He was a pervert, frankly, and she was quite tired of him hitting on her. His cute-ness was also shattered by the loud snore he let out then.

She sighed and pulled out her gun, clicking the safety off. One bullet fired right above his head was enough to the trick. At the sound the Major sat straight up, right hand posed in snapping position. His flicked around the room until they landed on Hawkeye, one hand resting on her hip, the other holding the gun so it was pointing at the ceiling.

“Sergeant! That was a little uncalled for I must say.” Roy yawned and stretched his arms above his head, feeling the joints pop.

“Sir, Colonel Gran requests your presence at HQ.” Headquarters or HQ here was a cabin secured from the Ishbalites that hadn’t been completely demolished in one of the raids. Gran had taken it pleasantly from the two men trying to defend it to it’s last. Mustang had thought the action was unnecessary but didn’t question it. You don’t question orders in the military.

He sighed, as if it were such a difficult chore to drag himself out of bed, but he did so, buttoning up the front of his uniform. When he was sure he looked presentable he followed the blonde gunslinger to HQ. He stayed behind her most of the time enjoying the view of her backside swinging from side to side as she walked, but his mind was otherwise occupied.

They’d been there for a week so far and had not done anything. Although it had been explained that the first week there would be to get a feel for the area and the territory. Get to know the place and the people you’d be working with. Roy had done that in his own way. On the first night he’d taken a leisurely stroll through the abandoned section of the city they’d taken over. It only took once for him to understand the layout of the area. And certainly he’d been trying to get to know the Sergeant ahead of him.

She was brash, harsh, professional, and absolutely beautiful, although he had the idea that she wasn’t aware of it. She was certainly aware of his advances though, and fought them off like he had never seen before. The only girl ever to do so. The others were not quite as fascinating as Hawkeye. Jean Havoc was a worse womanizer than Roy himself was, Alex Louis Armstrong was a bragging man of nobility or so the Strong-arm thought, Zolof J. Kimblee was… well the word maniac came to mind. The man liked explosions, even more of a pyromaniac then myself. Tim Marcoh was a kind man, who only wanted to help people, and alchemic genius too, it was rumored that he had created the so-called Philosopher’s Stone of legend. There were a few other lower officers that he had hardly seen around, and hadn’t the time to get to know. Sleeping and checking out the women busied his schedule.

He entered the cabin and stood at attention along with everyone else there. Hawkeye had moved outside to wait with the other none alchemists. Colonel Gran sat at his desk hands folded in front of his face looking stern as ever. Roy was not fond of the man, his looks, his mannerisms, or his style. However the man was his superior and there was nothing he could do about that.

“Gentlemen! At ease!” The Iron Blood Alchemist began. “We make our move first thing tomorrow morning. We have found where a surviving group of Ishbalites is hiding, and have heard word that reinforcements are on their way to back them up. At first light we’ll march in and crush them! Crystal Alchemist have you completed your task?”

Roy’s moved his dark gaze to look at Dr. Marcoh. The older man looked drained of all energy, and at the Colonel’s question he broke out into sweat. He started shaking, no correction, he’d been shaking, but it became more apparent. “S-Sir. As I’ve told you before. There, there is really no n-need to use th-th-these measures. It will—“

“I don’t want to hear your complaints Crystal Alchemist. I just want to know if you’ve completed it.”

“Yes sir. I have made several copies of the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Everyone’s eyes widened. The Philosopher’s Stone? So then the rumors about Tim Marcoh were true. And to think he created several copies of it, the man was amazing. He didn’t look like a man who thought he was amazing though. He looked sullen, hesitant to use such a thing.

“The Philosopher’s stone, eh?” Kimblee remarked a smirk crossing his face.

“The legendary red stone, that can do away with the use of a transmutation circle and accomplish anything in the world of alchemy.” Armstrong stated.

“Yes, you men heard correctly. The Philosopher’s Stone. Marcoh has succeeded in it’s creation and we will use it to transform and amplify out powers on the battlefield. Each of you will be given a ring with one of the red stones in it that you will wear tomorrow. Is that understood!?”

“Yes sir!” they all shouted in response snapping into a salute.

Gran nodded in approval. “Good. Dismissed.”
Okay. Next part is here. I'm not too sure on how I handled the action scenes. War isn't my usual genre to write about, so I hope it seems okay. This story is getting pretty long. Longer than I expected at leat.

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As they exited the headquarters each of them looked as if they wanted to start talking about the possibilities in excitement like a bunch of school girls who just found out that Marsha had dumped Benny last night and was now going out with Zack. None of them did that however. Major Kimblee seemed absolutely delighted at the idea though, which made Mustang feel sick inside.

He noticed Dr. Marcoh heading down a mostly unused road, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Those were not the actions of a healthy man, and his state back in the cabin flashed through the young alchemist’s brain. So in curiosity he followed his elder keeping to himself at first. Marcoh made his way down the winding path to a secluded area, which ended in a fence and collapsed, onto a crate, putting his head in his hands.


Marcoh started and looked at Mustang through his fingers. The older man noticed the concerned look the younger was giving him and lowered his hands and straightening up, regaining his composure. He cleared his throat, “Major? Can I help you?”

This made Roy frown all the more. He’s hiding something…He snapped a quick salute before relaxing again and studying the Crystal Alchemist carefully. His hair was graying, probably a little sooner than it should. That indicated stress. He was still shaking albeit less so. That indicated nervousness. He wasn’t sweating anymore, but that was probably mostly due to the breeze.

“Sir, you seem ill. Is there something wrong?” He would prefer to be less professional, but so far the doctor was being professional, so he would stick to it as well.

Marcoh sighed, his shoulders slumping. He regarded the Flame Alchemist out of the corner of his eyes, sizing him up. He remembered hearing Roy on his first night here about how he would become a hero and prove himself more than just regular old alchemist. The elder decided not to ruin the childhood dreams yet. It would come soon enough.

“It’s nothing of concern Major. Just exhausted, that’s all.” He forced a smile, “I’ll be seeing you bright and early tomorrow Mustang.”

“Yes sir.” Roy saluted once again, casually, and strolled away not quite believing Marcoh. There was something going on here, that he didn’t know about, and Roy didn’t like that.

The next morning he was once again awoken by Sergeant Hawkeye, this time, though, without the gunshot. Glancing at his open alchemist watch he realized that she was here early by at least thirty minutes. Well, there went his plan to sleep until the last possible second. He yawned and closed one eye to peer at her, who was standing above him.

“I apologize sir, for waking you so early.”

“Is there something you want? ‘Cause if not, I would really like to get back to sleep.”

She pulled a chair next to the bed and sat in it, looking uncomfortably at the ground. He frowned at her expression and sat up stifling another yawn. He reached for the glass of water on the bedside table gulping it down. He always put one there the night before because he was always thirsty when he woke up in the morning. Not quite finishing it all he held it out toward her, “Want some?”

“No thank you, Major. I’d like too… talk.” She frowned at how stupid that sounded, childish even.

“About?” He didn’t realize they had anything to talk about. As far as he could tell they didn’t share any interests. And if they did, certainly none to warrant waking him up at four o’clock in the morning. Besides she didn’t seem as if she wanted to chitchat, it had to be more serious than that.

“Well, I’ve never been in battle before Sir. I’m not exactly sure what to expect.”

A-ha! She wanted comfort. She wanted him to reassure her. That he could most definitely do, and with great pleasure. He gave her one of his confident smirks before pulling her into a hug and pressing her body to his. Oh, he could definitely comfort her. “Riza, darling,” he said, using her first name. First names were more comforting. “There’s no need to worry. Nothing will happen to. Especially not while I’m around.”

He felt the cold steel as it pressed against his skin, and he heard the click as she pulled back the hammer. And if he could see her eyes, he was sure her crimson gaze would be boring holes into him right this very moment. Maybe she wasn’t looking for that kind of comfort. That was too bad. He let go and pulled away, grinning boyishly. “Sorry Sergeant. Couldn’t help it. You looked so serious.” She looked even more serious now.

Riza kept her glare on him a moment longer before looking away with an exasperated sight. Major Mustang had been the wrong person to come to. Havoc would have tried the same thing only ten times worse, Major Armstrong would have given her some long tale of nobility and his family background, Major Kimblee gave her the willies, she didn’t know Lieutenant Marcoh all that well, and there was no way she would go to Colonel Gran with this. Mustang had been her only option. But it seemed he couldn’t keep from his lecherous ways.

“I’ll go Sir. It was my mistake. I’ll see you on the battlefield.”

“Now wait a minute Sergeant. I apologize for my previous actions but don’t ride me off just yet.” He smirked, “There’s more to me than just trying to get in your skirt.”

Since she had gotten up and begun to walk out, she turned to look over her shoulder at him. His voice was full of confidence and he smirked as if he owned the world. That alone made her feel a little better, although she didn’t show it. Instead she raised an eyebrow at him, “Is that so?”

“It is?” His look softened for a moment. He rose to his feet cracking his back as he did. He yawned again and began to don his uniform as he spoke. “You’ve never been in battle before, you’re worried about what it’s going to be like, if you’ll ever stand a chance, if you’ll have to kill people because you’ve never killed anyone before no matter how good a shot you are.” These weren’t questions. “To tell you the truth I’m feeling the same. I’ve never killed anyone before, never been on the front lines.” Her eyes widened. She hadn’t realized this. “But I’ve been in fights before. And if this is anything like a fight, you won’t have time to think about what will happen to you or what you do to others. What you have to keep in mind is that the other person is out to kill you too.

“I know you hear dramatic stories about how the other person may have life too. A family, children, pets, a girlfriend maybe. They have parents just like we do. But in battle, or in a fight if you let that stop you, they’ll get you first. And here that could mean death.”

It was good advice he thought. It sounded good, and he meant all of what he said. In a way he was telling himself, as well as Hawkeye. He wasn’t lying when he said that he had the same inhibitions that she did. He just seemed to handling it better so far. If he knew what would result, he probably would have never said any of that to her. If he knew what would happen he probably would have told her to run and get out and never look back.

By the time he finished he was pocketing his watch and checking his hair in the small mirror he’d brought along. Riza was staring at him enthralled. The fact that a man such as him could come up with something so profound amazed her. He was right however, which she realized. It made her smile briefly. It hadn’t been such a mistake to come to him after all. He’d given her the confidence boost she needed, and helpful advice. It seemed his lechery, and even his outward constant arrogance was merely a mask. Here was a smart, talented, young alchemist who knew what he wad doing despite how he acted. It wouldn’t be so bad working for him, maybe.

At exactly oh-five-hundred Colonel Gran’s troop was assembled. Four Alchemists, and eight lower officers, two to support each alchemist and serve as back up. No one dared to be late. This was the Colonel’s big mission, if he succeeded his rank would certainly rise, as well as everyone involved. If anyone one of them were late then they wouldn’t hear the end of it after this was over.

Tim Marcoh stepped up from his place standing behind the Iron Blood Alchemist and uncovered a tray lined in cheap velvet. On it were four rings, each with a red stone placed in the center. They were beautiful works of art, although each one simple in it’s elegance. Each one was also just barely different from the others. One would assume to give each alchemist individually their own enhancement.

“Here are your stones men. Use these in battle. They’ve already been proven to enhance alchemic ability much like the myths say. According the Marcoh’s research your abilities should be increased ten-fold at least.

Now, to get down to business. This township isn’t as abandoned as we thought it was. Our scouts have found that renegade Ishbalites have made camp for themselves in the part that we are currently not inhabiting. Also according to those scouts the Ishbalites have been stocking up on weaponry and artillery to try and storm us. So we get them before it’s the other way around. Go in and do this as quickly as possible. The new Fuhrer doesn’t want us messing around. And make sure you kill everyone! Now move out!”

The ring with the Philosopher’s stone fit perfectly over his alchemy gloves. It was oval in shape and didn’t look bad on him. Roy was busy studying the stone, wondering at the possibilities it could contain. Would it really increase his powers that much? And what would such an increase accomplish anyhow? Was there any need for this much force?

Being distracted he didn’t hear the Colonel calling him. It wasn’t until Hawkeye kicked him in the shin that he was aware of anything other than the stone on his hand. He glanced at her though curiously with a hint of a glare. His shin hurt now.

“Ahem. Major Mustang. Now that you’ve joined the outside world, would you like to demonstrate for us the stone’s power?”

“Me, Sir?”

“I don’t see any other Mustang around.” The Colonel looked impatient.

“Certainly Sir!” Demonstrate it? Roy would love to. He felt an aching need to use the stone, the legendary thing that alchemists strove for. And he would be the first one of them to use it. It was almost too good to be true. And later he would think otherwise.

“Good. I want you to set the place aflame Major. We’re far enough away from our base. We’ll smoke ‘em out and do ‘em in.”

“Y-Yes Sir.”

He held out his right hand ready to snap his fingers in a motion that would trigger the transmutation circle on his glove and create a flame. It certainly wouldn’t be a problem here, the air was dry enough as it was. Aiming his arm in the direction of a building he snapped. Instead of just the jet-stream of fire that would have hit the wooden house, it was torched, and in all of ten seconds was consumed in red and orange flames, that was beginning to spread. The air wasn’t the only thing that was dry.

Roy’s dark eyes were wide in amazement. He had never witnessed anything like that in his entire life. That was…incredible! The power! The rush! The destruction too. His attention was caught as people screamed and darted from houses that had now caught on fire. The majority of them had dark skin, and he was sure if he could see their eyes, they would be red.

“Again!” Gran commanded.

“S-Sir. I think—“

“Don’t think Major, I said ‘again’! We’re to kill every last one them using any means necessary. It that means you have to burn the town to cinders then by God you’ll do it.”

It was Ironic the use of the word God. Roy was sure that the Colonel believed in God as much as he did. Which would be none at all. But as orders were orders Major Mustang would follow them, igniting the other side of the road in augmented bedazzling flames. More people ran into the streets coughing and choking on the smoke.

“My turn!” Kimblee called in a singsong voice, stepping forward and strolling leisurely into the melee of running Ishbalites. He grabbed one of them as they ran past, placing his hands on both the woman’s shoulders they glowed for a moment as his alchemy went to work. A second later he pushed her back into the chaotic mass running back toward their group. After that the poor woman exploded into a mess taking out everyone around her. And Kimblee laughed.

“All right men, get to it! Officers provide sufficient backup! GO!”

And so they went. Roy burning the town as they made their way through it, Kimblee blowing things away like a maniac, Armstrong crushing things with his artistic alchemy, and the Iron Blood had transformed himself, with the help of the stone, into a one man artillery unit. They painted the town red in blood and flames until there was almost nothing left.
This is amazing! More soon!
This is good. Really, really good... Post more soon!
biggrin.gif Great story so far!!!! update fast!
Update sooon please!! Your descriptions were amazing!!
Cool fire!Haha yes blow it up blow it up!!!Like fireworks only BIGGER!!!!BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!I'm such a pyro. laugh.gif
Okay. Sorry it took me so long to update. I got distracted with other things and writing Royai drabbles which are all posted on the Royai community on LiveJournal. Here's the next part though, which I hope you all enjoy. I'm also changing the title of this because it's a little less about romance now. And because 'Romance in the Military' is so blah. More poetic and stuff. And there will be more Hughes and Gracia later on for anyone wondering. They werern't just a one time thing. ^^


The flames had mostly died down by now, although smoke still billowed everywhere. The city now lay in crumbles in tatters most of its citizen’s dead or dying. Roy sat on a slab of cement that used to be part of a tavern. There was a, surprisingly, unbroken bottle of vodka in his hands but so far it was untouched. He was staring out into the wreckage, blinking only when his body forced him too. It was all too much for him.

He knew it would be difficult. You hear stories, you see photographs, you’ve been told all about it. It was different than he expected it to be. He thought it be glorious, going in and beating down the enemy so easily. It wasn’t. It made him feel sick and repulsed. He hadn’t emptied his stomach like some of the lower officers had, like Major Armstrong had, not that the noble man would have anyone know.

This was why Marcoh didn’t want the stones to be used. So much destruction, so many lives, they were all gone in an instant, in the snap of his fingers in Roy’s case. He kept coming back to the kid. There had been one kid in particular, that kept churning his stomach around. The Flame Alchemist had stumbled upon him hiding out in one of the few houses that hadn’t been burning yet. The teenage boy had a gun in his lap, but didn’t raise to shoot when Roy came in. He was whimpering, wishing only to get away.

Roy had already grown sick of what was going on at this point. He gave the kid a tired look, lifting his hands preparing to snap. But he held off, maybe he could give the kid a chance, maybe he wouldn’t have to be the one to kill him.

“Get out of here kid. This building will become toast in mere seconds. Leave while you can.” He had meant to sound indifferent. Instead his voice shook uneasily, as did his hand.

The boy’s eyes had widened as he stared down this dark haired man from the military. He would die today he knew, but he would be damned if this man would kill him. And if he ran out of here he would just be taken down in just moments. But, but if he killed the man standing here, he might live longer, at least until somebody else came across his hiding place.

The kid lifted the gun and Roy’s heart sank. His instincts kicked in and his thumb whipped over middle and index fingers. The ring glowed a brief second, then the building was an inferno, the alchemist ducking out quickly.

The memory would not leave his thoughts. It was really the only person he had killed so personally like that. He hadn’t seen much of the other people, except for fleeing backs. To think that the military condoned such behavior was unthinkable. Then again Mustang, this is war you got into. People die by the hundreds. Maes’ voice in his head. That was what he needed at the moment, an I-told-you-so from his best friend, even if it was imaginary.

“Flame! Nicely done kiddo. That was brilliant. The city’s still in flames, if only a little! Ha ha! You’re a genius Flame.”

Roy looked up to meet the Crimson Alchemist’s mad eyes. Yes, the man was insane and it had just been confirmed this very day. Zolof J. Kimbley laughed as he killed today. Laughed like a maniac, enjoying every moment of it. The joy was written on his face, recorded in his voice. The Crimson Alchemist was twisted. Here he was congratulating Roy on ending thousands of lives.

He glared, “Go away Crimson, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Huh? Oh…” Kimbley changed tactics immediately adopting a sneer, “So you have a conscience, eh, Flame? Feeling guilt for all the death and destruction that you caused because you’re better than them?”

His mouth formed a thin frown, “Who said we’re better than them?”

“Oh come on! You came here with that very belief. We are number one, Ishbal, it isn’t even on the rank list! But now that you’ve killed you think differently. Let me guess, after this whole affair you think that even the Ishbalans are better than us? I’ll tell you something Flame, they’re still fighting us, and they’re still killing us. Yeah, we picked off quite a fair amount today, but we lost people too.”

Again the boy flashed through his mind. The only reason he had killed the kid is because the kid would have killed him. Maybe they weren’t better than the Ishbalans, but the Ishbalans were no better than they were either. And the fact that it was Kimbley who pointed this out to him worsened it. The psycho had to be right, didn’t he? He was still a psycho though, and Roy wouldn’t let him get to him. That was what crazy men longed for, was to get beneath the skin of the sane.

Unfortunately his lack of response didn’t shut Crimson up, in fact it seemed to encourage him, “You know I’m right Flame. If I remember correctly a couple of you backup troops were killed, and your sniper girl was injured, although not too badly. Lucky for her. She’s a pretty thing.”

So much for not getting under his skin. Roy stood abruptly and glared at the stick-like-man, “I think you should leave, Crimson, before I decide to make you burnt toast.”

Kimbley let out a crazed cackle. “You’re going to what!? You couldn’t do it Major! You’ll threaten me all you want, but the most you’ll do is give me a black eye. Face it, you’re weak.” His eyes drifted beyond the Flame to something that was behind him and his grin diminished into a devilish smirk, “And look who it is now. You’re little sniper girl.”

Mustang whirled to find Hawkeye approaching giving Kimbley an odd look. He didn’t blame her. Even if you didn’t know the man, he looked strange. Too lanky for his own good, rat-like features, and greasy black hair slicked back into a ponytail. He looked like a serial killer. That wouldn’t be too far off. She only looked for a moment though, and then moved her gaze back to her commanding officer. She stopped in front of him and saluted.

“At ease Sergeant.” He breezed at her. Kimbley looked on in amusement.

“Sir, Doctor Marcoh is requesting your presence.” She informed him.

“Right. I’ll be right there. … You were injured Sergeant?”

“Er… Yes Sir. My leg was grazed by a bullet, it was just a small cut though.”

Roy shot a poisonous stare at Kimbley. The taller man simply shrugged. “Well I better leave you to your business Flame. But keep in mind what I said.” He turned his back on them with a casual wave, and strolled away whistling a merry tune of some sort.

“He didn’t say anything out of line, did he Sir?” Hawkeye inquired, giving a suspicious look over her shoulder as they began to walk the opposite direction.

“Not particularly Hawkeye. He was just being himself, which is bad enough. And you don’t have to be so formal all the time.”

“I do, Sir. It’s protocol.”

He gave her a grin, “Well I’ll beat it out of you yet Sergeant. By the end of our time together you’ll be screaming my first name.”


“Yes Sergent”

That was entirely out of line.”


The part between Kimbley and Mustang was inspired by Mikomi's Pen on I was reading some of her work yesterday. The next part, if it goes according to plan, should include the Rockbells and such.
Finally an update!! Thank you!! More soon, I love it!
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