Chapter 1: Paparazzi Alert

A/N: Yo, peeps! I'm UltimateOtakuGirl100, back with another FMA fanfic! ^.^

Ed: Hey! You're supposed to be working on the other fanfiction now!

Me: D: Shaddup. Otherworldly Alchemy can wait. Plus, my OCs are giving me writer's block like crazy. They're evil, I tell you! EVIL!

Destiny and Nadia: HEY!

Me: O_o What the… What're YOU guys doing here?! This isn't even your story! *shoves them back into laptop*

Al: Nooooo, Nadia! ;_;

Me: …Aaaaanyways. I came up with the idea for this story a little while ago when I was re-watching FMA. I realized that it seemed like almost everywhere they went (except for Lior), people knew about the Fullmetal Alchemist, even though in no time during the series is Edward ever seen with people trying to interview him or anything. So, this just came to mind for no apparent reason while watching. Yayz, random ideas.

Ed: …This is going to end very badly, isn't it…

Me: Hey, give me some credit, will ya?! *mutters* Jerk… *ahem* As I was saying, this is just my idea of what the series would've been like had the paparazzi been involved. It's going to follow most of the series, but with some changes, because when you add another character to the mix, especially someone as spastic and ninja-like as Emily, there is absolutely no way that the plot can remain exactly the same. :P Yayz, messing with the timeline.

Ed: *facepalm*

Me: Can it, Goldilocks. If you've got a problem with the way I talk, then you can go re-experience the Flame VS. Fullmetal episode in a flammable cabin stuffed with dynamite!

Mustang: *evil smirk*

Ed: HECK NOOOO! O_o

Me: Thank you. Anyways, enjoy~!


A small, skinny girl sat silently on a large green rotating chair behind an adult-sized desk obviously meant for business usage, feet on said desk with her ankles overlapping as she slowly flipped through the pages of a newspaper. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as she strained her eyes to see the small words on the pages in the dim lighting of the closed blinds.

She had shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes that would shine in the slightest of light. The tiny girl was pale with slightly rosy cheeks and looked extremely out of place in the dark office in her bright pink shirt, purple baggy pants and pale pink tennis shoes. There was a name tag on the desk in front of her feet that read, Emily Hayes.

Her childish face glared at the back cover of the newspaper she'd been reading. "USELESS!" she screamed, suddenly leaping out of her chair and violently hurling it at the floor. Papers from several other stacks already on the ground went flying around at the sudden disruption as the little girl, with an angry expression that didn't look quite right on her small face, kicked the papers in fury. "Completely useless!"

A loud knock on the door interrupted her temper tantrum. "E-excuse me, Boss?" a deep male voice sounded through the closed door, sounding nervous.

The little girl straightened. "Come in!" she chirped happily, face abruptly changing from fuming to beaming as she strolled back to the large desk and plopped down on the chair again, grinning from ear to ear.

The door opened and revealed a tall, muscular man, easily six feet tall. He might have looked intimidating if it weren't for the terrified look on his face. Seriously, he looked like he might piss his pants. "M-M-Miss!" he stuttered frantically, straightening and doing an awkward salute. "Permission to speak, ma'am!"

She giggled. "Permission granted, Mr.—…" The child glanced quickly at the name tag on the man's shirt, because she had NO idea what this guy's name was. "…Steven."

Mr. Steven nodded his muscular head jerkily. "Yes, Miss, thank you, Miss…" Then, hand still in the salute, he said hesitantly, "Boss… you know how we haven't found any new subjects for our business to thrive—?"

The girl's wide smile wavered slightly.

Steven gulped and abruptly cried, bowing frantically, "I'm sorry, ma'am! I was speaking out of line! Forgive me!"

Her smile mostly returned, but it seemed slightly forced on her tiny face. "No, no… please continue."

He straightened again and nervously continued, wringing his hands together. "Y-yes, Miss! Er… as I was saying, we know how you've been desperate to find something to be our next hard-hitting subject. Well, after weeks of searching and searching, we finally discovered something!" Mr. Steven quickly spun around and beckoned to someone outside the door.

A slightly scrawnier man that was more normal height burst into the room suddenly, panting and clutching a rolled-up newspaper in one hand. He looked down on the small child. "What the frick?!" he cried, bewildered. "Where's the boss, Emily Hayes?! And who is this little girl?!"

The other two froze, Mr. Steven looking horrified.

Suddenly, knives were flying at him, and he was pinned by a dozen daggers all stuck to his clothing against the wall.

The girl leapt on one of the daggers near his face and glowered at him angrily, holding a knife to the now-terrified man's throat. "Don't you DARE call me a half-pint beansprout midget child who would drown in a freakin' puddle!" she hissed. "I'll have you know that I'm nine freakin' years old, and plenty tall, thank you very much! State your name, rookie!"

He gulped. "I-I'm sorry!" he wailed fearfully. "I'm Tristan!"

Steven stepped up. "Please, forgive him!" he begged. "He's a newbie, he doesn't know a thing! I apologize for his insolence!"

The girl's eyes narrowed. After a moment, she back-flipped off the dagger and, in one swift movement, yanked all the knives off the wall, which clattered to the floor noisily. Tristan collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

"You wanted to see the boss, didn't ya?" the small girl questioned, straightening and jutting her thumb towards herself. "I am Emily Hayes, boss of the leading paparazzi in all of Amestris!" She puffed out her chest proudly. "Soak up the information in your thick skull, ya dingbat!"

The two men stared at the crazed child, unsure of what to do. Then they decided the respectful approach. "I-I'm so very sorry, Miss Hayes!"

Emily giggled, returning to her face of childish innocence. "Just call me Emily," she replied, beaming as she skipped behind to her desk and bounced back onto the spinning chair happily.

Tristan, unnerved at her drastic mood shift, nodded slowly. "A-alright, Miss Emily. U-um, at any rate, this is what Steven and I came to show you." He went up to the front of the desk and unrolled the newspaper in his hand. Tristan flattened it onto the desk and turned it around for her to see the front page. "This is an issue that came out just this morning. I think you'll be interested in what it says."

She raised her eyebrows and her face turned thoughtful as she read the page. "…Edward Elric… age twelve… state certified… youngest state alchemist ever? …Alchemy without a circle… Fullmetal Alchemist… child prodigy?" she mumbled the various words that were repeated on the page. Her eyes strayed to the picture with faded coloring on the top of the page of a boy with golden-colored hair, golden eyes, black jacket and pants, and a red trench coat. Entranced, she slowly traced a finger over the outline of his face. "…Whoa… he's… he's so…"

All of the sudden, she bolted out of her seat, scaring the living daylights out of the two men. "Steven!" Emily ordered, grabbing a navy blue jacket and sliding it on over her pink shirt, "Grab me my luggage from my room on the other side of the hallway! Tristan, give me my purse—it's on the doorknob, it has my notebook and stuff in it! I've found our new top subject. I'm leaving!"

Steven hesitated as Tristan ran past him to follow her order. "B-but, Miss Emily," he objected fearfully, "he is being protected heavily by the military! They're preventing any of the press from getting near to him…!"

Emily looked up at him and grinned. "No matter how long it takes, no matter how well the military will protect their precious prodigy, there's no way I'm giving up on this opportunity! Even if it takes months—years even—of searching, I will find this Edward Elric!" Her grin widened as Tristan returned and handed her the purse, which she slung over her shoulder. She straightened, gripped the now-rolled-up newspaper in her fist, and yelled at the top of her lungs for the world to hear her promise: "NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES, NO MATTER WHAT GETS IN MY WAY, NOTHING WILL STOP ME FROM GETTING MY HANDS ON EDWARD ELRIC!"


~~Three years later—older brother: 15, younger brother: 14, Emily: 12~~

Edward Elric plopped down on a chair in Mustang's office, sighing in exasperation as he slouched, Al clanking into the room after him, shutting the door heavily. They'd just gotten back from his trip to Lior a week ago, and had already reported to the Colonel on the false lead. Why did Mustang summon him again?!

Said Colonel watched him with eyes narrowed stoically as he shifted, interlocking his fingers together and resting his chin on the back of his connected hands. "You're probably wondering why I've summoned you to my office, Fullmetal," Roy said bluntly, echoing Ed's inner fuming.

Edward glared. " #$% straight!" he snapped angrily.

Roy closed his eyes and gave a long, resigned sigh. "…Something… has come up."

The short alchemist's expression transformed from livid to curious—the Colonel almost always had a poker face. He'd never seemed so… distressed. "What? Is it another lead on the Philosopher's Stone?!" Ed questioned, some excitement seeping into his voice.

The Flame Alchemist shook his head. "No; nothing like that…"

Edward frowned, looking slightly disappointed. "Then what is it?! Bandits? A murderer? War?"

Again, Roy Mustang shook his head. "No… it's something far, far worse." Expression dark, he leaned over the desk and said in a confidential tone, "It's the paparazzi."

Ed's expression went blank. "The… paparazzi," he repeated disbelievingly. What the heck?

Mustang nodded seriously. "We—the military—have been deterring the press since you first became a state alchemist. The paparazzi has been desperate to get a piece of you, as the youngest certified state alchemist in history, but we've been keeping them off your back." He leaned back in his seat again and pulled out a drawer from his desk, with many files packed neatly into it. "That is… until now."

Ed gave him an incredulous look. "The paparazzi," he said again dubiously. "What's the problem?! So what, there's some people who're wanting to get some info on me. Big deal. Who cares if they're asking a question or two? That doesn't matter!"

Roy was fingering through the various tabs on the folders as he responded, "Once the paparazzi get started, they won't stop until they've picked apart their subject to the very last detail and scandalous rumor before leaving their victim in the dust. This is especially true for our newest development. And, besides, there are some things that, if made public, could produce some disastrous results." He glanced meaningfully at Alphonse at this last part before returning to his searching.

It was silent for a moment as the meaning to this sank in for the two brothers. "…Okay, I can see your point. But still, couldn't you just, I don't know, send in some soldiers to keep the press away from me?"

Colonel Mustang, finding the file he wanted, pulled out several pieces of paper and closed the drawer again. "We have been for the last three years. But, unfortunately, this latest development cannot be contained—no amount of soldiers, armies, or even prison cells, handcuffs, and straight jackets could keep this from their goals." He slammed down the papers on top of the desk.

Edward cautiously lifted the papers off the desk as he read the page. Alphonse peeked over his shoulder curiously as Ed looked at the contents of the page. "Amestrian Record Files: Record of Emily Hayes… Gender: female. Age: twelve. Birthday: July 14, 1902…" He skipped over a portion of other meaningless information as he looked at the center section of the page. "Occupation: boss of high-ranked press companies, radio stations, magazines, photographers, newspapers, reporters, journalists, and etcetera." Ed blanched. "What the #$%?! She's a freaking kid! How the #$% does a kid become in charge of so many companies?!"

"How does a kid become the youngest state alchemist in history by using unexplainable transmutations without a circle?" Roy challenged, smirking.

"He's got a point, Brother…" Alphonse agreed hesitantly, who had been silent the whole time.

Edward groaned. "Fine, fine! I get it!" Then he went back to reading. "Other Info: talented in fighting and weaponry, as well as journalism and business-managing. Strong-willed, and will let nothing get between her and her goals. Began making various trips outside of her companies approximately six hours after the Fullmetal Alchemist was state certified, presumably searching for him. See Amestrian Record Files: Record of Edward Elric." He frowned and set the papers down again.

"There you have it, Fullmetal," Roy said stoically. "The leader of the largest paparazzi group in all of Amestris has had her sights set on you for three years. We've managed to keep you off her radar for quite some time, but it seems that the news of your deeds in Lior has led her straight to you."

The small golden-haired alchemist didn't respond as he stared at the picture of a young girl grinning giddily at the camera and waving, looking as if she didn't have a care in the world. In the picture, she wore a long pink dress with lasagna-width straps and various red flowers spaced evenly throughout the fabric, and the dress was blowing in the wind. Her light brown hair was shoulder-length and tucked behind her ears to avoid her hair blowing around. The girl's blue eyes shone with excitement.

"Fullmetal," Mustang stressed, sounding slightly amused, and Edward quickly looked up from the picture, realizing he'd been talking the whole time… and he hadn't listened. Oh, well. Probably not important. "As I was saying, you need to be extra cautious now, with Emily Hayes on the case. She could be anywhere. If you don't look out, you'll be wrung out and left to dry. Dismissed."

Irritated, Ed got up and left the office without another word.


"What do you think, Brother?" Alphonse asked as they exited the gates from Eastern HQ.

Edward shrugged. "I doubt that the situation could be as bad as he made it out to be."

"I dunno, Brother… the Colonel isn't really the type to exaggerate."

"…Still, she's just a kid. How hard could it possibly be to avoid a kid?"

Little did he know, a mere few seconds later…

"SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! EDWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!" And he was suddenly glomped from behind and tackled to the ground.


A/N: There y'allz go. Chapter 1 complete, yayz!

To be honest, I'd planned on making this first chapter quite a bit longer, but then I realized that this was a better place to stop. So, derp. :P

Ed: Based on what I've seen… the paparazzi in my world is basically the fangirls in yours?

Me: Pretty much. XD

Ed: *groan* Well, this is great…

Me: Suck it up. Stop being such a whiner.

Al: Nadiaaaaaa… TT_TT

Me: Oi, chill, Alphonse! I'm going to update OA pretty soon, she'll be in it!

Al: :3 YAY!

Me: O_o …Ooookaaay… anyways, peeps!

Review topics~

Was any of the canon characters terribly OOC (Out Of Character)?

What do you think of Emily?

As of now, what is your opinion of this fic?

Me: Oh, but no flames! That's Roy's job! :P

Mustang: -_- …

'Kay! Review and recommend, peoplez~!