Title: Heat
Author: tir-synni
Disclaimer: Do we need to go over the definition of fanfiction again?
Addy: relisprince(at)hotmail(dot)com
Heat
When I agreed to tie myself to Colonel Mustang, I did it fully aware of his ideals. I knew what he, and all who followed him, faced. If we failed, there was an excellent chance that we wouldn't be joining Brigadier General Hughes in that distinguished graveyard. We'd be lucky if there were bodies to bury.
Still. Even though I've faced many things standing behind Colonel Mustang, shit like this never fails to bother me a little.
Especially when Edward Elric is involved.
Driving the colonel to the hospital where apparently his young prodigy ended up again. Details: classified. The usual. The kid's just hit fifteen and already his hospital trips are classified. Won't know what happened to him until either he or the colonel tells me.
Doesn't matter. I know what I need to know.
The kid hit another dead end.
I pull into the parking lot, and with a slight nod, Colonel Mustang leaves me to go pick up the kid and his brother. Knowing Alphonse, he's right there in the room with the boss, pleading with him not to harass the doctors, ordering him to take his medicine, and trying to keep him in the bed long enough for Colonel Mustang to clear him. I laugh to myself and light a cigarette. Knowing both of my bosses, I have a bit of a wait.
When the then Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang went to Risenburg four years ago to check on a possible alchemist recruit, we never realized that he'd be bringing back another secret for us to share: the Elric brothers. Hawkeye told us the tale while Mustang looked over more paperwork concerning other alchemists. I'll admit, I had my doubts at first. Even if the kid was powerful enough to pull whatever trick he did to seal his brother to the armor, I figured he was probably little more than a broken cripple. Then he and his brother came, and I found myself following another stubborn idealist. How the hell did that happen?
I was right. I managed to finish off that cigarette and start on another before Colonel Mustang led the brothers out of the building. Against hospital regulations–but hey, when was that new?–Boss was limping on his own out of the building, snarling at the smirking colonel even as Alphonse sighed and followed them both. I grin around my cigarette and rev the engine as they climb in.
"Hey, Boss!" I greet cheerfully. Edward scowls at me. One pretty golden eye is bruised, and I cringe sympathetically at his busted lip. Who did he piss off this time? Another fierce glare and my cigarette mysteriously finds itself flying out the window. I decide to wait till later before grabbing another one.
"Hello, Lieutenant Havoc," Alphonse calls, before he turns back to Edward. Damn. Kid's good arm is in a sling, too. Chimera, maybe? One of the few creatures (besides humans) I've met that don't like the midget.
"Hey," Edward grumbles after a moment, settling in the back. He glares suspiciously at Colonel Mustang, like he had mysteriously caused his injuries, before staring out the window. I hide a snicker and pull out of the hospital parking lot. I happen to know exactly how far apart we are in this vehicle, and I'm not going to offer Ed's temper a target.
"So where are we going?" I ask after a moment. Ed's busy sulking, and Alphonse is busy fretting, so Colonel Mustang answers me.
"The dorms. Fullmetal still needs rest after his . . . accident." Okay. Now I really want to know what happened. There was something distinctively sardonic about that pause, and the little boss stiffened visibly. Al just looks like he's . . . . yep. He's eyeing the exits.
The trip back to the dorms is surprisingly silent. I glance in the mirror occasionally, checking out our little prodigy. He's pale against the dark leather of the seats. He catches my eye for a moment, and I look back to the road. I still feel those bright eyes staring at me. I don't look back again. I had already seen Colonel Mustang's hand protectively on Edward's shoulder.
By the time we reach the dorms, it's started to rain. I momentarily scowl at the falling drops before meeting Colonel Mustang's wry eyes in the mirror. As one, we roll our eyes, and I step out of the vehicle and walk to his door. Damn. Hawkeye has us trained.
I open the door for him, and smiling lightly, Mustang steps out. Edward follows. The usual inferno in his eyes has softened to a low smolder, and I reach out.
"Boss," I begin, only to be cut off when the young man stumbles stepping out of the car. Mustang moves, but for once I'm faster, closer. I wrap my arms around Edward before he hits the ground, steadying him. The blond's metal arm slams into my stomach, but I don't let go.
For one glorious second, I'm holding him. I feel his face, nuzzling my shoulder. I feel his slender body pressed against mine. I feel his long golden hair tickling my arm. Most of all, I feel his slim form shaking, his pale lips trembling against the thin material of my shirt, his nose snuffling against my shoulder as if searching for something. Then his brother worriedly calls his name, and it's over, and he's pulling away, his brother helping him limp towards the dorm. I watch them go, feeling like I swallowed one of my cigarettes . . . while it's lit.
Uncaring of the rain, Colonel Mustang stands at my side. "For such a little firebrand," he comments contemplatively, "he seems so cold sometimes."
I shrug and grapple for another cigarette. For some reason, I'm dying for a smoke. "It might be the metal limbs," I offer. "They leech the heat from him." I can still feel Edward's face against my shoulder. I find a cigarette and eagerly light it up.
"Maybe," the colonel replies vaguely. "Good job catching him. We don't need him to get any colder."
I remain quiet for a moment, lips moving around my cigarette. "No," I say quietly. "We don't."
Colonel Mustang offers me a small smile. "Come on. Let's get back to the base. Hawkeye won't be happy if we stall too long."
I grin and inhale deeply. "After you, sir."
I don't say anything. I don't need to. He probably knows already. But for that moment, when Edward pressed too heavily against me for simple gravity and his face burrowed into my shoulder, the young blond seemed warm enough.
I swallow, ignore my own rising warmth, and start the car.