this takes place sometime during the ed/greed/hohenheim/chimera road trip before the promised day. cw: possession-related consent issues, although nothing big happens. cross-posted from AO3.
Ling is checking him out again.
The girl's mind twitches at that. She doesn't react as much to Greed's barbs anymore, but every time he calls Ling Ling instead of something bodyguard-approved, she twitches. He wishes she'd go back to the way she was when he first got this body, spending all her energy on the trivial. Now she knows to store her energy up, wait for the right moment and just—
He doesn't like it, is what he's saying.
Lan Fan catches the tail end of the thought. Greed can't see her, of course, but somewhere in his head he knows she's got on a smug little grin.
Quiet, you.
She doesn't have to tell him that she didn't say anything. Lan Fan's smugness intensifies. Whatever—Lan Fan's a menace. He knows that now. It's what makes taking over her body such an accomplishment. But if she wants to be like that…
Ling's eyes are burning a hole in his face and Greed decides to make things more interesting. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and gives the prince a direct view down his half-open shirt. He'd never had actual cleavage before this body but he's always liked to show off. It didn't take him long to figure out how to do this. Just a matter of a few loosened ties. Ling's eyes dart down and then back up, too quickly, a hint of a frown on his mouth.
Greed flashes him a toothy grin. "Got something to say?"
"You shouldn't be using her body like that." His voice is quiet enough not to bother any of the rest of their sleeping band—Greed can barely hear him over the fire—but still carries all the weight of his authority.
He and the prince might have gotten along, under different circumstances. Too bad he still hasn't accepted who's in charge here. "It's my body. That was our deal. Shit, she volunteered for the position." He taps sharp carbon nails against his cheek and his grin widens. "Face it, kid. You're just mad you can't use her body anymore."
Lan Fan revolts and Greed sucks a breath through his teeth; she's pounding her fists against his mental walls. Get over it, princess.
"It's not like that," Ling says. He's not red-faced and sputtering the way Greed had expected, like maybe he's used to defending himself against this kind of thing, but his hands curl into fists against his trousers.
"Mmhmm. Because cutting off your arm for your master is a totally normal thing to do." He slouches a little further. His carbon hand twitches of its own accord, scoring his face, and Greed heals the cut before it has time to bleed. Oh fuck OFF. "Gotta say, I'm impressed. Even my minions wouldn't have done that."
You know nothing of real "loyalty. Your own chimera—"
"Lan Fan?"
"Shut up," Greed snaps, and shoves the girl in the back of his head where she belongs. Lan Fan kicks the door when he slams it behind her, metaphorically speaking. What a pain in the ass. Ling's looking at him again, wide-eyed like he hardly ever gets. "Don't get your hopes up, prince. I'm not letting her out unless she behaves."
"I know you're not letting her do anything," Ling says, and smirks. So that's where the princess got it.
Stop calling me that, Lan Fan insists. Monster.
You're not making a great case for yourself here.
"You're right, though," Ling says softly, and they both jerk to attention at that. Greed knows he's right, of course, but it's rare enough for someone to acknowledge it these days. He misses having proper minions instead of these moody bastards. Only the chimeras appreciate him. "It's not normal."
Young lord, Lan Fan says. It's so plaintive that Greed's stomach swoops. Probably he just needs to throw up at the absolute sappiness of it all. What's the point of living if not for yourself?
"I honor her sacrifice. She is the bravest and strongest person I know, but I—" Ling shakes his head. Greed recognizes the guilt there and wishes he didn't. Of course anyone would be upset about destroyed possessions. Of course they would. "If she gets nothing else from you, I hope she learns it's alright to—want something for herself. To try and take it."
Lan Fan's inner turmoil fades into confusion. Greed stares at the kid for a minute. Then he snorts and hauls him in by the back of his neck.
Ling's fast but not fast enough; Greed plants one on him before he has time to move. It could have gotten good, too, if Lan Fan's instinctive rush of shame hadn't overwhelmed him. Greed jerks back, schools his impression back into something neutral, but Ling's staring at him before he manages that.
"I don't do subtext," he says, hoarse, and bares his (her—no, his) teeth. "Neither does your bodyguard."
Ling doesn't have anything to say to that, for once. Doesn't even move out of Greed's grip.
So Greed lets him go and slouches by the fire. Ignores Lan Fan's mix of confusion and shame and hope as best as he can, and enjoys his victory.