Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. Nor do I own the lyrics in my summary - they come from the spectacular musical Avenue Q.
Author's Note: I don't particularly like Roy/Ed – my sister made me do it! Well, it's only Roy/Ed if you turn your head and squint. I meant it more as a friendship/mentor fic, but I have a feeling some of you will twist it, so why bother fighting the inevitable? At least I get a Gelphie out of it.
There's a Fine, Fine Line
By Elizabeth Odessky
I swear that kid is going to kill himself someday.
If not from getting in a fight or starving, then it'll be from exhaustion. He's a cocky little punk with nothing to back up his ego, but he can run fast. He can't cook, but I'm pretty sure Alphonse can.
He just doesn't know when to quit.
Every report I get from the field details his idiotic escapades and scrapes with death – all situations that he was explicitly told to avoid by about a dozen superior officers. He returns from every single assignment knowing full well why I'm sitting behind my desk glaring at him and he still has the nerve to come out of uniform and with an excuse obviously concocted on the spot.
And its not just on assignment either; as of this moment, he has been in the Central Military Library for seven hours, moving from his seat only to gather more books on human transmutation. He's way in over his head and he doesn't even realize it.
There are reasons why those books are restricted. I wasn't even allowed in this section until I became a Colonel – why is this kid even allowed in here?
The answer is simple; because he's Edward Elric, the prodigy. People just won't shut up about him. I've been told I won't either, but I'm his boss – I'm entitled to a little obsession. Which is why I'm here in the first place. If I'm not here to drag him back to the hotel at a decent hour the squirt is sure to say here all night.
As I watch, his head starts to tilt forward, dipping down towards his book and desk. At first I think he's leaning in closer to get a better look at a diagram or something, but he jerks his head upright again, raising one fist to rub against his eyes. The damn kid is falling asleep sitting up.
Not that I can deny doing it myself – I was notorious for falling asleep during seminars at the academy – but this is different; the books will still be there tomorrow and the hotel is only two blocks away. I figure I'll give him a chance to leave on his own, but as I continue to watch his head dips down again, almost into the candle lighting his workspace.
Sighing, I hastily walk over to his desk and grab him by the shoulder before he can face plant into a mess of hot wax. Startled, he looks up at me with wide eyes. Striking golden eyes, I notice for the first time.
"Oh, hey Colonel," he mutters, quickly moving a sheet of writing paper over the book he was studying as if he thinks I have no clue what he has spent days researching.
I frown at him. "I think it's time to go back to the hotel, soldier," I address him formally, adding a little ice to my tone in the hope of getting him to agree to going with as little protest as possible. To my surprise, he doesn't even try to put up a fight; he just nods to me and begins to stand, stumbling a little on a book he had set aside earlier in the evening.
I catch him again and he gives me a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his head with one hand and brushing his bangs from his face with the other. "I guess I overdid it, eh?"
"Come on," I say as I put my arm around his shoulders and usher him out the door and down the street.
I think I'm beginning to like this kid.
Yeah, I'm really not sure about how this came out, but reviews are appreciated anyway.