The Crimson Alchemist in King of Fort Briggs? Chapter 1, a fullmetal alchemist fanfic

THEREFORE THIS FANFICT EXIST ON THE BASIS OF NON -

PROFIT ENTERTAIN. BOTH THE CHARACTERS SOLF J. KIMBLEE

AND MILES BELONG TO ARAKAWA AND RIGHTLY SO.

WARNING : This story may contain suggestive themes and hints.

Chapter1: Enter State Alchemist Solf J. Kimblee

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty..."

The black haired man lying in the hospital bed could only feel his nose crinkle in disgust at the old man's voice. It was Lieutenant General Raven, that prune of a man. Dressed in the necessary clothes to keep one warm up north, a black coat and a white scarf with grey gloves which seemed match both his grey hair and bread he had. The patient of the hospital could only roll his eyes a bit in annoyance but forced a most unpleasant smile onto his lips. It was deeply painful to act as if he enjoyed these visits and the black haired man was beginning to wonder why Raven hadn't been disposed of already...

After all the sooner the 'good' Lieutenant General Raven was dead the sooner Kimblee-the name of the black haired individual, could kick back and enjoy the power of being in control. Perhaps the State Alchemist would knock Raven off himself just for the chance of pushing around the Ishvalan Miles for a bit. It was indeed a tempting preposition, one that the black haired man would deeply have to consider.

"The Doctor's have signed your release papers," Raven began, "We depart for Fort Briggs today, isn't that exciting?"

Kimblee diverted his eyes from the dried up Lieutenant General and focused them on a wall which was deeply more pleasing to his blue eyes. Blue eyes that seemed to hold a softness that shouldn't be present in any psychopath. "Are you still sore about your little match with Scar?" the dark skinned Lieutenant General questioned.

A slight scowl escaped the State Alchemist's lips, he wasn't sore about anything. He'd admitted his disadvantage to the dirty blooded Ishvalan. Scar had simply gotten lucky. It was only due to the fact that the Ishvalan had continually been fighting and that Solf J. Kimblee had been relaxing behind bars that he'd one-upped him. Even if the Crimson Alchemist's pride had been damaged in the match he wasn't going to let anyone find enjoyment behind his failure. Especially not Lieutenant General Raven. Kimblee after all had been quite feared in the time of the Ishvalan war and he'd slaughtered countless men, women and children his one slip up with Scar wouldn't happen again. He just needed the chance to redeem himself and patch up his own pride.

But, Ahh yes, the Ishvalan war. It had indeed been fond times. Although he'd served as a military dog that had been short lived when he turned against a few of his higher subordinates, well murder them. But hey, in a sense they asked for it when they requested the Philosopher Stone back. What idiots they had to have been to ask such a foolish thing. As if he, Solf J. Kimblee was just going to hand over the blood red stone after he'd become so fond of it. The Philosopher stone matched his whole Crimson Alchemist title for one thing, not to mention it was a great amplifier for achieving those higher pitches of sound for his symphony of discord. Something he doubted those men could fully appreciate.

"I see that's a touchy matter," Raven said stroking his beard a bit, "Well if you get changed the car is waiting out front."

Kimblee's blue eyes narrowed slowly and fell on the sorry excuse of a Lieutenant General, "But Lieutenant Raven, Sir," the black haired Alchemist said sweetly, "You're still here..."

A part of him was ready to die or at least vomit if the old man had any attentions of lingering around. It was bad enough being in the hospital patient outfit, but he could really do without that perverted man around. "Oh yes!" Raven exclaimed.

Was he dense or something? The Crimson Alchemist watched in annoyance as the old fool stumbled out of the room and slowly he pushed the covers off standing up. His long black hair normally pulled back falling on his shoulders as he moved to the showers and turned on the water. If he was going to be meeting with that Ishvalan who'd come to the hospital, he ought to look his best. An amused smile cross his face as he stripped and stepped into the showers making sure to wash everywhere to the best of his abilities.

Once the State Alchemist was certain he'd taken all the right pro cautions he shut the taps off and walked out grabbing the towel and wrapping it around himself. He was dripping wet and ensuring he was completely dry was a must especially up North. The last thing Kimblee wanted was to become sick-he really could live without another visit from Miles. The Alchemist tongue slipped out of his mouth in disgust and he began to dry his body before pulling on a fresh pair of boxers and his white long sleeve dress shirt. Which he dedicated to taking the outmost care in buttoning up. Next he added the purple tie a colour he insisted brought out his eyes-but he wouldn't go sharing that piece of information with anyone. The white socks were next, followed by his white pants for which he tucked the white dress shirt into. Now came the white vest that he buttoned over top of both the dress shirt and the tie.

At this point the Crimson Alchemist couldn't help but notice how nicely the stain had come out. In fact you couldn't even tell that his very blood had once stained the fabrics and Kimblee was going to need to make a mental note of the Dry Cleaners his suit had been sent too. What! In this day and age it could be so deeply important to have ones clothes in the care of a true professional, on how many occasions had his suit come back in disarray or his boxers come back pink... The black haired Alchemist could only shuttered in the reluctance of recalling such memories. He couldn't be concerned with this now! His pale hands slipped around his white jacket and he casually slipped his feet into his silver coloured shoes.

He was almost ready now. Kimblee carefully combed his hair and made sure to leave the usual two long strains dangling in front of his face before pulling back his long black hair and tying it into his usual pony-tail. "Now for the finishing touch," the Alchemist stated twirling his white fedora hat in one hand before slipping it onto his head.

A slight smile crossed his face and he couldn't help but add the words, "Damn, I look sexy..." If not for reassurance that Kimblee defiantly knew how to dress.

Keeping the now smug look, the Alchemist slide his hands casually into his pockets and departed from the hospital. He definitely wasn't going to miss this place.

"And Time..."

The words caught the lax black haired Alchemist off guard and his eyes fell on the black car's driver and Lieutenant General Raven. One of which happened to be carrying a stop watch. "I didn't think it was possible but he takes longer than my wife," the driver remarked.

"Kimblee defiantly is a girl when it comes to getting ready-" Raven stated with a nod.

"AND YOU'D KNOW THAT HOW?" Kimblee cried, demanding an answer.

He defiantly didn't ever seem to loose his cool, but this was one of those acceptable times he supposed. Even his left eye had begun to twitch and his state seemed to make the other two men jump. Slowly the Crimson Alchemist took a breath and his angered expression turned to a deep frown, "On second thought I really don't want to know how you knew that..." the State Alchemist said deeply disgusted.

Nervously the driver held out the door and Kimblee got into the back seat slamming the door behind him before the driver could get a chance. His pale hand slide to his forehead as he sighed, this was definitely going to be a long drive.