Kimberly
Half a year ago I wrote the fanfic J. And had it posted on my birthday! XD Anyway, here's the semi-sequel to it, more Kimbley name confusion, hooray! This time however doesn't have Greed and the chimeras, but a different person…
Rating: PG-13 for language
Genre(s): Humor
Out of Characterness: Duh
Original Characters: None
Pairings: None
Summary: After rudely betraying Greed for insulting his middle name when it was revealed drunk one night, Kimbley now finds himself under the command of a man who can't even remember his name. Oh joy. You'd think a famous mass murderer's name might be something to remember.
So boost my ego and review! XD
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Kimbley had come to a conclusion. Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer was a freak of nature. Sure, Kimbley wasn't normal, but this man was just screwed up. For one, his house was neater than museums Kimbley had been in, and for another, the man himself… Well, he claimed to be only a few years older than Kimbley himself but hell, his hair was graying, that wasn't possible! And then there was the fact that he was so pale he could blend into a white wall. Seriously, what the hell was with that?
The mad bomber was seated on the Lieutenant Colonel's couch, watching his every move curiously. Kimbley usually didn't sit and watch, he preferred to act. But this was something new, a man who could catch Kimbley's interest so easily. The silence between them spanned for what seemed like hours before Kimbley finally asked, "What the hell are you doing?" It looked like paperwork.
The Lieutenant Colonel looked up, as apathetic and bored as ever, then held up a paper. Yup, paperwork. "Work," He stated, bored. "And must you bother me every two minutes?"
Kimbley snorted and got up off the couch, treading over to examine the paper. Reinstatement, he thought. It had to be papers for his reinstatement, as well as Tucker's. He didn't know the freaky man personally, or where he was staying, but Kimbley had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't in Archer's basement.
Hm. What was in Archer's basement? Surely the man had to have some sort of weird kinks. All pencil-pushers did.
"How do you spell your name again? K-i-m-b-e-r-l-y?"
Twiiitch went Kimbley's left eye. "Kimbley. Zolf J. Kimbley. Not Kimberly. I'm not a woman."
"…" Archer glanced over, looking Kimbley up and down for a moment before nodding absently. "Suppose you aren't."
As if that had occurred to him!? How could Kimbley be a woman!? He didn't even look like one! He flipped the long hair over his shoulder with a huff and pressed his hands to his hips, irritated. He wasn't a woman! Women couldn't do anything!
…Except for that Hawkeye chick. She'd almost shot Kimbley in the head when they'd first met. And that totally wasn't because he'd tried to grab her ass.
"So what does the J stand for?" Archer asked, the tone of voice not even changing for an instant.
That question. That damn question! Not again! Kimbley growled something that sounded something along the lines of "Nothing," before returning to the living room and flopping back on the couch.
Archer's apathetic expression suddenly changed for a split-second to one of devious delight. With that, the Lieutenant Colonel followed him into the living room, reverting back to that bored expression. "Kimberly—Kimbley," he corrected himself quickly before the other could decide that he would make a worth bomb or not, "I need to know for these papers. It's required that I fill out first, middle, and last name."
Kimbley attempted to glance over at the papers, but couldn't see them from here. Wasn't it usually just middle initial? And really, who else would name their son Zolf? His mother had been drunk! Well, maybe, he still wasn't sure about that. He never did get a chance to ask her… She'd gone boom a long, long time ago.
"I'm not telling."
"Don't be such a spoiled brat."
"There's no reason for you to know!"
"You're the one who says that this means nothing. If life has no meaning, then why does a name?"
…Damn, caught in his own philosophy. Kimbley grumbled something and folded his arms, pouting and resembling a child. "…Jae."
"What was that?" Archer glanced over, a small smirk pulling at the corners of pale lips.
"Jae. J-a-e, not with a damn y." Kimbley grunted and glared off to the side irritably. Unfair, no one was supposed to get that out of him. The last person who had was… well, he was dead. Kimbley hadn't gotten to kill him though, shame. Stupid Greed probably should have thought twice before laughing at Kimbley's name. Even drunk he could murder people.
"…" Archer said nothing, but wrote the name down, then quickly left the room to go laugh in his own. Jae? What kind of a name was that? It sounded Xingese, but Kimbley certainly wasn't… was he?
Kimbley growled, glaring at the door to Archer's room, having heard the laughter. That was it, the bastard was going down. However, Kimbley would just have to find a less direct way to do it. He didn't want to get thrown back in jail so quickly. Not until after the upcoming war, at least. More people to explode!
…But seriously. His time for revenge would come.