Disclaimer: I don't own... alchemy. oO; Or. . . FMA.

Author's Note: Canons come later, I promise.

Rain poured and the wind screamed as a short woman with blue eyes and silver hair strode down the pavement with a determined step to her quick stride. The woman wore a trench coat over a pair of flat soled boots, a pair of jeans, and a loose fitting, white dress shirt. Though she had silver hair, the small woman appeared to be no older than twenty-eight. She went up the stairs of the university's front door and then down the main hall. A left here, a right there, until suddenly, she came upon the alchemic arts room. Withdrawing a key from her left coat pocket, she unlocked the door and entered the large room. A musty smell hit her in the face like an icy wind on a cold winter night in the Arctic.

The entrance to the room was thrown into the lower right-hand corner of the classroom and the walls were lined with crowded bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling. A desk sat in front of a swivel chair in the upper left hand corner of the room and behind the swivel chair, there was an enormous iron-barred door. The college professor hung her trench coat on the coat rack, thus letting one see that she brandished full metal prosthetics that caught and reflected the light from the fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling. One would wonder how she lost them.

"Denzel!" The voice came slightly muffled from behind the bolted door. The professor gave a slight sigh of dismay and maybe minor agitation. Going to the bolted door, she began to open the plethora of locks. Once the minor task was complete, she opened the door. A little boy with bright yellow eyes and curly black hair could be seen. He wore a pair of loose, beige shorts, and a pair of open-toed sandals. His skin was naturally tanned and he looked no older than four or five. Beside him, a tall girl. She looked quite odd and was a homunculi, for she had unnaturally pale skin and vibrantly stunning red eyes. Her hair was waist length and a nice sleek, clean black. She was of the slender yet muscular build and she wore a jade green tank top. On her lower half she wore a pair of green camouflage pants that fit comfortably and a pair of military styled boots that stretched almost to her knees. Both the boy and the girl wielded fangs. Although the girl's fangs were not as prominent as the boy's.

"O-Othello!" The girl started to say. "H-hello and how are you? . . . I, uhh . . . I didn't know you were coming so early!" She picked up the boy, Denzel, and set him down on a foldable chair. The silver haired woman had her hands in her pockets and her face was still and hard as stone.

"What is Denzel doing out of his cell?" The college professor seemed only slightly agitated. "You know as well as I do what may or may not happen if he leaves this room, Anne."

The homunculi frowned notably. "He was crying and calling out for his mother, Othello! I couldn't just leave him in there!" Denzel sat quietly in the chair, happily devouring a donut; those bright yellow eyes of his simply glared at Othello.

Suddenly, a bell rang and students began to fill the hallways as well as the classroom. "Keep him quiet, Anne," And without another word or action, Othello left the room, closed the door and locked it. It was at this particular moment that I decided to make my presence known.

"Pleasure to see you again Professor Harrison," I let the words come smoothly, tauntingly. I was sitting in the desk directly in front of Othello's own. She stared at me with her mouth slightly agape with such a shocked look on her face.

"What in God's name are you doing here, Lorren?!" Othello looked a little more angry than shocked at my presence at this particular moment, if you ask me.

"Why, I came to see you, of course!" I placed my right leg over the left. My voice held a large amount of sarcasm. "And besides," I waved my left hand in the air ever so slightly but ever so artfully. "You have something that belongs to me." I decided that I wanted to get right down to it. To tell you the truth, I was in no mood to screw around with Othello. I glared past her and at the bolted door to better clarify myself. She glared at me. The little halfling stormed up to me, and slammed her metal fists onto the desk. She then spoke to me through clenched teeth.

"Get out now, Lorren," The professor's face was crimson only to a small extent, and I could not help but to let a sly grin slither onto my olive hued face. "I will not have you in here distracting my students." When she said that, I laughed out loud. After taking control of myself, I responded:

"Your students should be able to ignore me and pay attention to you."
"I don't care. I want you out."
"You know as well I do that I'm not going to leave."

Othello stood erect, went to her desk, and then she went to the dry erase-board to teach her class. I sat there in that desk the entire day, and I must admit, I learned much, much more than alchemy.

–

"Lorren, can't you leave him here?" Othello was nearly groveling at my feet.

"No," I opened the bolted door with ease. I tossed a small smile when I saw Denzel asleep on the floor with a pillow and blanket. I went over and picked him up. For a moment or two, I just stood there marveling at how healthy he was after six months of being away from the Biosphere. I was about to leave the room behind Othello's desk but she stood in my way. Stupid halfling.

"Othello, if you don't want to die, then I suggest you move," I kept my voice low yet firm. "You stole Denzel from me, and so, I'm taking him back." I held onto my son tightly with my right arm while I slipped my other hand into my coat pocket to withdraw my pistol. My finger was on the trigger, but Othello did nothing to get out of my way.

I aimed the gun at her.

It was point blank-range, and the only thing I had to worry about was where I was going to shoot her. I argued with her quietly for God knows how long before I finally decided to end it all and pull the trigger.