Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, and this story is not for profit.

All This Time

"Pleasant day, isn't it?"

Roy Mustang looked to his side. He hadn't heard the Crimson Alchemist approaching, but he wasn't exactly surprised to see him here. Wherever there was death or destruction, Major Kimbley seemed to follow. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

The Major's face was turned up to the clear sky above, a small smile on his face. A gentle breeze came through the valley that stirred the loose strands of his hair.

Roy Mustang frowned. The Major may have been looking towards the sky, but he knew he was referring to the scorched Ishvalans that lay scattered around the battlefield.

"Not really." Roy responded through his teeth. It was unpleasant enough how often the state alchemists all had to see each other, and it was unpleasant mainly because of Kimbley himself. Something about the longhaired, sly-faced alchemist had always set Roy's teeth on edge.

…..

Riza Hawkeye jumped down off the train at the next station. All around her were men and women in uniform running about trying to figure out where they were going.

Riza hesitated for a moment, clutching her gun tightly. Even when she had signed the papers agreeing to join the military, none of it had really dawned on her. Not the war, nor the very realistic dangers in which she now found herself involved. Now, standing watching people with stern faces rushing back and forth calling out directions and orders, it finally sunk in.

"Do you need assistance, miss?" A soldier with a pencil and a clipboard asked her.

"No thank you sir; I'm just trying to find my squad leader." She answered.

"All newly arriving soldiers are being assigned now to state alchemists. May I ask what your name is?"

"Hawkeye. Riza Hawkeye. But, well, I'm sorry sir… I don't think I'm supposed to be assigned to a state alchemist. I'm here as a sniper, to work with that division."

"Oh, I see. Well in that case follow me." They started to make their way through the hustle of the moving crowd. The man she was following seemed to know his way around, but Riza struggled not to lose him in the chaos. "I see you brought your own rifle, miss." He said.

For the first time since the train ride from Amestris, Riza almost smiled. "Yes, it was my grandfather's."

"Well that's nice, but unfortunately the army will outfit you with one of their own guns. We don't want you using the wrong thing. You'll have to leave that with storage."

"Are you serious? You won't let me use my own gun? I know it works fine, I practiced with it before I arrived."

The man abruptly stopped walking and turned to her. His chest puffed out ever so slightly.

Fantastic. Riza thought. Someone hung up on his own insignificant amount of authority.

"I'm afraid that's exactly what I mean, Ms. Hawkeye. You're going to have to leave that gun with me, ma'am."

He reached for it, and there was a brief tug of war before a third voice interrupted them.

"Sergeant, I assume you must have already completed the task I gave you earlier for you to be bothering young women in your spare time."

"Um, no sir, Major Kimbley, I was just telling this woman that-"

"I heard what happened just fine. I don't think that it's a problem to let this sniper keep her gun when we are having trouble supplying everyone with guns on our own, do you?"

"No sir. I mean, you're absolutely right sir."

"Good. Then continue sorting out the rest of the troops."

"Yes sir."

They both watched the man leave before the alchemist turned back to Riza.

She was going to thank him for what he did, but when she looked in his eyes something held her back.

Something cold and hard-but not exactly serious-resided in those blue irises. Suddenly she didn't want to thank him. She didn't want to talk or look at this severe alchemist. She wanted to be back home in Amestris, where she had been safe and happy when her father was alive.

"I suppose you can thank me later." He said.

His words forced her to return to the present. "Thank you, sir."

He raised an eyebrow in reply, as if she confused him. Just as well. These days she confused herself.

"Snipers are to report to Colonel Jacobs for assignment. I don't have time to show you where he is."

"I understand, sir. And thank you, I think I can find him on my own." It wasn't completely true, but she would rather try and find him herself than spend a minute longer in this man's unsettling presence.

"Best of luck." He said with a smile in his voice. Like there was something funny about matters of life and death. But she was already walking away when he spoke, so she just acted as if she hadn't heard.

If all the alchemists are like this, I just don't know what. She thought to herself. But of course they all aren't. I've met one quite different before, in what seems now like another life.

"What are you doing here, Kimbley?" Roy said, finally turning to look him in the eye. "Already finished murdering women and children?"

"I'm finished with my job, yes. I was wondering if my fellow state alchemist needed any assistance. I was going to lend it to you. It seems like you might; your shadow isn't here. With her following you all of the time, I wonder, how do you get on when she isn't around?"

"I do just fine." Roy said gruffly.

It was a lie, of course.

If it had been Hughes, or even Armstrong, Roy wouldn't have hesitated to voice his concern, and admit the unease he felt when he and Riza were sent on separate missions and were unable to work together. But for some reason he hated to hear Kimbley talk about Riza; like he was laughing at her, or maybe him, or maybe the both of them. It was time for him to change the subject. "Is the east warzone past the river cleared out yet?"

Still smiling, the alchemist raised a hand over his eyes, shading them from the merciless Ishvalan sun. "I don't see anymore smoke coming from that direction. Call your men and we'll head out that way and see if there is any work still left to do."

"You call them." If Kimbley was going to tell Roy what to do, he might as well call his men too. "There's something I have to do first."

…..

Riza's heart had almost stopped when she had seen the Ishvalan sneaking up behind Colonel Mustang. When she had shot him, it had been the first time since she joined the army that she hadn't regretted her kill.

Sitting now with Roy and Hughes over a cup of coffee, she still shivered to think how things might have gone if she had not been watching out for him. He no doubt thought it was purely coincidence that she had been watching the area he was in, but in truth since she had arrived she had been following him, making sure that he was safe.

It was the only time when her job didn't feel like some sort of terrible joke: when she killed someone who was about to hurt Roy. But the rest…the rest was horror: the killing of innocent people, most who were gentle civilians.

Fresh on her mind, she turned to ask Roy, "How could we all have fallen so low?"

Roy's eyes saddened, and he didn't look like he would be able to answer that question for her. Before he could attempt to try, someone not in their circle cut in.

"Because it's our job."

Not him again.

Unlike most of the Amestrian militants over the course of the war, he had changed very little since she had met him months ago before the battle had begun. Most people, like Roy, had perceptibly changed since the killing had begun. Mostly in the eyes, as Hughes would say. Major Kimbley seemed exactly the same. If anything, he looked better since she had first seen him. Stronger and healthier somehow. Maybe it was because he had had the eyes of a killer to begin with.

He was going on about killing now, but Riza didn't hear what he was saying-she was too busy wondering if he remembered her at all, and she was hoping that he didn't. Or she was, until he pointed at her and asked her a question. Guess that was a yes. He remembered her after all.

"You don't enjoy your job do you, miss sniper? It's written all over your face." He asked Riza.

She bowed her head. "That's true. I don't enjoy killing." She answered. It was the truth. She hated taking lives; to her, it was a shameful thing.

He grinned at her. "Really?"

Riza frowned. What was the matter with him? He went on, not giving her the chance to answer.

"Can you honestly tell me, in the split second before you take down an enemy, that it doesn't give you some sense of satisfaction?"

The way he was looking at her. Like some ancient devil from myth, peering right into her heart and soul and exposing its darkest truths for everyone else to see. She wondered if her face matched the horror she was feeling inside right now.

She couldn't say it out loud. It wasn't possible. But she answered him with her eyes. Yes, alright. Yes. I do. He was still smiling. How did he know?

Of course Roy, gallant, testosterone-ridden soul that he was, tried to put an end to it. He grabbed the crimson alchemist by his shirt and yanked. "That's enough, Kimbley!"

Kimbley hardly seemed to notice. Instead of getting angry, he seemed annoyed. "I find you lot much harder to understand. Always trying to rationalize this…"

He went on. He said more horrible things, per usual. Riza tried not to listen but his words echoed through her ears and through her skull. "Never take your eyes off the people you kill. Never forget them because I promise that they won't forget you."

Only after that did he pull away from Mustang's grasp and announce that he had work still to do.

His words hung in the air over everyone's head like a guillotine. It made it too easy to imagine what would be coming next.

Kimbley raised his eyebrows but didn't question Roy as he left the Crimson Alchemist and made his way shuffling through the prone bodies. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard his men and the other soldiers being called together by Kimbley and checking themselves for injuries and weapons.

He walked further away, and slowly the voices became quieter and quieter until they faded altogether. He walked on, not finding what he was looking for, until he came to a shady spot next to a low stone house.

A little girl was lying there, probably dead no more than a day. Her death had been particularly gruesome, instead of directly taking a bullet she had been stabbed in the stomach with the bayonet from a soldier's gun. Her stomach was stained red with all the blood, which had pooled over into the ground beside her. Roy's eyes were foggy as he knelt down next to her and picked the brilliant red flower which was growing in the ground beside her stomach.

When he returned to Kimbley and his men they were all in formation, ready to move forward. Roy nodded, and Kimbley called the men to march ahead while they both stood and watched.

"Dreadful form. If I was the Fuhrer, I would command stricter discipline and training for these foot soldiers." Kimbley said, scowling at the men as they spoke to each other, laughing and sharing stories.

"If you were the Fuhrer, their training would be the least of their worries. "

Kimbley didn't say anything, but his smile grew just a bit broader. Well, one can say can say this for him, Mustang thought, he never defends himself from accusations that he knows to be true.

Kimbley's eyes fell down to the red flower Mustang held by the stem in his hand. Roy didn't even turn red, he was used to it by now. He quickly inserted the flower into the lapel of his pocket, but the Crimson Alchemist just smirked and walked away.

The march east was even more unpleasant than Roy had expected it would be. It was hard for Roy to pay attention to his surroundings and keep a sharp eye out while Kimbley was beside him. The man was just too eager; every moment it seemed like he was ready for an attack, like he couldn't wait to use his destructive alchemy on any Ishvalans with the bravery to confront them.

Please, Roy found himself praying, Please let them not attack. For once, spare their lives, spare me from having to watch the Crimson Alchemist take them, and spare me of having to help him do it.

The sun was sinking down low on the horizon of a brilliant red sky. Roy wished Riza could see it. He didn't entirely understand her fascination with beauty, but he loved that she always found a way to appreciate the things that he couldn't; that she could always see things in a different light.

"Do you mind if I asked you something, Mustang?" Kimbley said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yes."

Kimbley laughed- a scratchy, breathy sound. "All right then, I won't."

Just then a sentry ran up to Roy. "Sir, we've arrived at the village. It's completely deserted. Still smoking from an earlier battle and no sign of any Ishvalan stragglers."

"That's good to hear." Roy said at the exact same moment Kimbley said, "Too bad."

Roy ignored the comment. "We had better turn back. This area could still be dangerous and we don't have enough reinforcements if we run into any trouble."

"I disagree, Mustang. It's getting dark and we are too far away from base to make it back tonight. We can stay in the city this evening and head back in the morning. And besides, I'm all the reinforcement we need."

"My God you're something else." Roy tried to put as much venom in his words as possible, hating more than anything the Crimson Alchemist's unshakeable will.