I am terribly sorry for the delay people. but my computer blew up. I just got it back so I will update soon but right now here's a short fanfic.

IMPORTANT: Xing is a country in FMA world which is a parallel to China and Japan. This is slightly AU.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Black Lagoon.


Masochists have all the fun

The clock struck eleven as I nursed my eighth shot glass. It had been the same as ever; another gorgeous girl at the flower shop, another date and inevitably another failed relationship. I wonder why I even think about having a successful relationship when I know it wouldn't last. Sometimes it's a different more valid reason like I'm too boring or I smoke too much. But usually it's him. The bastard Roy Mustang.

What I don't understand is what woman see in him. I get that he is rather attractive with his Xingese features and bad boy smirk and the fact that he is a Colonel in the military. Oh and what with him being the infamous Flame Alchemist. But for god's sake that damn pyromaniac changes girlfriends like clothes.

You'd think a guy like me should hate his guts and I swear I do. It's just that he has earned my respect. Grudging respect, mind you. The damn assholes a good guy. I guess being under his command for long enough has allowed me to see through his womanizer façade. I don't know. Maybe. Yeah, but I still fucking hate him.

Why you ask? Oh well, let's see...how about he stole my last three girlfriends?

''C'mon Jean'' the bartender said with a genuine frown,'' ya'know how women are these days.'' he spoke in a rather high pitched voice, something to do with the knife wound near his windpipe. ''They run afta' punks wid thick wallets.'' I smiled at him gratefully and went back to my whiskey. Damn I couldn't remember his name! Besides I think I've been here quite frequently on my breakup binges. Maybe I should avoid this bar now.

Maybe not.

Yeah, definitely not.

The other bars usually had a rather rowdy crowd and places like that at times like these didn't sit well with me. Besides I am a depressed drunk; not someone you should be, around people who hate you getting in their face.

That was the major problem, you see; getting in peoples face. I don't really go and confront people when I'm too drunk to remember who I am. But anyone who is a depressed drunk would know that a side effect of being this includes ranting about our miserable job or family life to the poor guy sitting next to us. I guess it ticks people off.

Oh and women too. This bar isn't one with hookers. It's a depressed dude bar; nothing fun, awesome or even remotely exciting happens here. Besides I can't stand whining woman when I'm this drunk. Not that I'd be able to tell the difference between her and that skinny dude over there in this state. But you get the point.

''Maybe you should change yer choice'a woman, kid?'' I looked back at the bartender and just as always noticed his hair. Two strands of white hair stood straight up pointing towards heaven. That was his hair. Two strands of hair mocking me. I considered his words once they registered in my brain. What did I like in women? Smart, kind, funny...big chested?

The first three were optional.

I continued considering till my thoughts collapsed into a steaming pile of dead brain cells. I slammed my head down on the counter as I felt a little woozy. Maybe I should switch teams. After all they say gay relations work better. Nah forget I thought of that. I heard the light tinkle of bells for the millionth time, announcing the arrival of another depressed dude ready to drown his sorrows in a bottle of alcohol.

I did the same thing everyone else did. Ignored the poor guy and continued to wallow in self pity. I closed my eyes and remembered my embarrassing visit to the Armstrong's mansion and the Major's beautiful but horrible sister. It had to be a curse, it had to! There was no other explanation. Why else would a beauty such as herself be able to lift a piano on one hand.

Maybe I was just unlucky. Maybe I should go for different girls.

BANG!

I sat up at the loud sound of a glass being slammed on the counter. The whole bar became silent but soon got back to normal. I slammed my head back down as I felt my scrambled brain slosh around in my skull. I cracked open my eyes and glanced at the legs of the person next to me. All I got was a blurred brown boot and black pants.

"Boy! What a chicken shack."

My body stiffened at the complaint directed at the bar and those inside it. Not because of the insult but because this was wrong. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Why was my luck so fucking rotten?

I sat up and my vision cleared. Okay maybe not completely clear but enough to see two feet ahead of me…..at the woman sitting next to me?

I couldn't help it. Something about her was completely off. She was wearing a brown jacket and red pleated skirt with tall brown boots. Girls didn't usually dress like that around here. And no woman ever walked into the "Depressed Dude Bar" as I had so lovingly dubbed it!

She was beautiful and at the same time something about her screamed dangerous. My eyes lingered on her pretty face for a few minutes before drifting down to admire other things. I know I'm a pervert; so sue me! At least I can be a gentleman at times. Besides, she was stack….

"What the fuck are you staring at, asswipe?" she growled almost literally. Her hand twitched in her lap. She looked absolutely adorable with her nose all scrunched up in annoyance.

I continued to stare at her in a dazed sort of manner unable to answer her in coherent sentences. I think I may have resembled a fish, you know, with my mouth wide open.

I swear I saw her eye twitch. I wanted to apologize when she tipped her glass of rum on her hand and splashed it on my face. Well, it worked. Who knew?

I squawked in a rather unattractive manner as the alcohol burned my nostrils. I would have said something…..had I not deserved that.

Another thing that was odd about her were her features. Xingese features. The fact that she was a red head was even more surprising. Around here it was rare to be a strawberry blonde and red heads were almost non-existent. Truthfully I have never met a redhead ever before.

Maybe I should ask her out. Maybe she'd say yes. Probably she'll shoot me down. Too bad I left my confidence at home…along with my ability to talk.

She seemed amused actually, not annoyed. More of disgusted at my perverted self but definitely amused. I saw a hint of a smirk on her face before she turned back to her glass with a bored expression. I mumbled an apology, too afraid to sound like a slurring moron. She didn't acknowledge me and continued to pour glass after glass of rum down her throat.

I avoided looking at her for another three minutes or so when I heard the clock strike twelve and a stray obscenity escape her mouth.

"Fuck", she muttered, not softly, mind you. She was far too different from your regular girl and by no means soft spoken. I saw her glare at the clock angrily as she let out another stream of curses that could make a sailor blush.

There was another tinkle and a bunch of rowdy guys walked in, laughing obnoxiously amongst themselves. The barkeep whose name I just can't remember kept throwing worried glances at them while everyone in the bar was getting fidgety.

I didn't like the idea of having my drinking interrupted by some over-muscled hunks of flesh, so I decided to get ready to leave.

Then I remembered the girl.

"By the way," I said with my best smile" My names Jean Havoc." She raised an eyebrow.

Improvement.

What? At least she didn't throw her glass at me. She seemed pretty capable of doing that.

"Yeah, good to know." She said in a rather dull voice. I knew she was being sarcastic but I was a gentleman and I wasn't going to leave a young defenseless girl alone in a bar filled with drunken bodybuilder thugs. No matter how rude or snarky she was.

"I have a car; if you need a ride miss." I offered slightly nodding towards the thugs in the back, hoping she'd understand.

She did apparently as she turned to look at them and laughed. It wasn't a nice laugh. Creepy actually.

"I don't need a ride." She said as she turned back to her drink. So I did the same, I didn't drink though. Not anymore.

"What? You ain't leaving?" she asked me in an amused tone.

"I'm not leaving."I conformed with a firm nod and a smile.

"A gentleman?" another amused smirk. I merely nodded at her. She let out a bark of laughter at that.

"A gentleman doesn't stare at a woman's packing dipshit." Her voice was gravelly and low. A chain smoker. I blushed slightly before apologizing and she waved it off.

Sitting there with nothing to do when I knew that she was going to ignore me, I pulled out a half empty packet of cigarettes and screwed it between my lips.

"You got another?" she asked without much enthusiasm and I pulled out another for her. It's odd how sometimes you can settle into a comfortable silence with someone you have never met before. I looked at her from the corner of my eyes as she sucked on her smoke. Her eyes flickered to the clock every few minutes. A hint of worry crossing her hazel eyes every now and again.

I could see the stiffness of her shoulder and the tightness of her jaw. My eyes fell on a black mark peeking out of the collar of her turtle neck. A tattoo? Tribal probably. She didn't seem like the butterfly type.

"So….?" I started thinking of something to say." What do you do?"

"Why?" I could hear the surprise in her voice. She wasn't expecting us to talk, was she?

"Just asking." I replied honestly.

"Fine," she sighed, I'm a…."

But she never got to finish. Because a giant shadow loomed over us and I could smell dead puppies behind me. Oh wait! That was a rotten thug not a puppy.

"Hey there lady" the giant of a man who stood behind us slurred."Want me to show you a good time?"

This was it. It was time for me to show her how much of a gentleman I truly am and sweep her off of her feet with my skills.

So that's what I did. I turned around and found myself staring directly at his chest. Throwing my head back I stared at his face. He looked like a typical thug with shaggy brown hair in a terrible need of cutting and a nearly destroyed nose. He was about as unattractive as a bulldog but one thing that was clear on his face was pride.

He continued to look over my rather tall frame (how tall was this ugly idiot anyway?) at the flame haired lady behind me. Ummm…..so okay maybe lady isn't a very appropriate word to describe her.

"Back off sir, we don't need any trouble, now do we?" I spoke in my most intimidating tone but the thug simply pushed me backwards and my stupid drunk butt crashed into the counter.

I heard the girl chuckle slightly and felt anger bubble up within me. Here I was, trying to defend her honor against a man twice my size and she was laughing at me!

I saw the big guy reach out to her and she turned to look at him with those hazel eyes. The eyes that had been dull and bored a moment ago were now filled with a malicious intent. The same kind I'd seen on that crackpot killer Kimbley. The tension in her muscles seemed to relax a bit at the sight of the man.

After that things were basically a blur. Most probably due to my inebriated state but I do remember a few things. Such as the girl smashing her glass into the thugs face and breaking her stool on his back. A few kicks to the place where the sun doesn't shine and a beautifully executed elbow drop complete with a childlike glee.

For a while I just stared as she continued to beat the crap out of his four 'buddies' who had tried to pull her off, not quite understanding the situation around me.

The bartender was gripping my shirt from behind and I was probably going to chock to death if he didn't let go soon, but I couldn't get myself to care as the goddess of war smashed a bottle of whiskey on a skinny guy. She had her gloved hands raised, gripping another stool and mid swing when a voice left the bar in a brutal silence, except for the whimpering of tortured men.

"Revy?" A smooth male voice rang out in the room filled with terrified men."What are you doing?"

I turned to look at the man who addressed the redhead as Revy. Xingese descent, average height, a regular salaryman's outfit. He looked pretty normal.

"Rock!" the girl seemed to have lost all the tension from before. Her typically dull eyes seemed bright, almost relieved. I felt a stab of jealousy.

"I thought I'd find you floating in a gutter tomorrow. What the fuck took ya so long?"

"Business, Ready to leave? We gotta get back." He said as he scrubbed his forehead with his fingers and shook his head slightly as his eyes scanned the mess the one woman had made. She dropped the stool on the thug, made her way to the exit and smacked the guy on the arm. Hard.

"C'mon, partner." And with that I saw the most exotic, most dangerous and somehow still adorable woman walk out the door.

"You can let go of me now, George." Ah! So I do remember his name after all. I felt him jerk away from me.

"Did you see that?" his voice was even shriller now."Did you fuckin' see that?"

I nodded at him dumbly before lifting my glass to my lips and waited for him to calm down.

Hey George." my mind continued to go into a several different directions but always ended up on the same damn boots and red hair. The old man looked at me with an odd expression.

"You said I should change my choice in women, right?" I asked quietly. He just looked more confused. I waited a while before replying and took another sip of my now warm whiskey as I made up my mind.

This was a depressed dude bar and nothing fun, awesome or even remotely exciting ever happened here. I smiled at the thought.

"Damnit!" I gulped down the remaining alcohol.

"Masochists have all the fun!"


This is it for now. Hopefully I'll be able to update my story soon. the chapters are ready but I still have to type the whole thing.