((Disclaimer: I do not own 'Fullmetal Alchemist' or 'Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood'. 'Fullmetal Alchemist' and 'Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood' belong to 'Hiromu' Hiromi Arakawa.))
(Author's Notes: This idea came to me just now when I was sitting here at my computer on Face Book bored out of my mind. It's a different take on what I usually do but I think you guys will like it – maybe? You get to choose what Lan Fan and Ling does and what path he/she takes – like a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' type of thing, but you're telling Ling and Lan Fan what to do.)

Lan Fan glanced up from her papers, out the little crafted window of Ling's working space, and jumped. How could it possibly be so dark already? Hadn't she been working for none but a few minutes? In a calm, yet quick, manner she grabbed the papers that littered her desk and filed them between her fingers, with the sharp edges of the documents irritating her hands as she worked. When they were finally all neat, she placed them at the corner of the imported mahogany desk she had been working on and stood up quickly, chair rattling with the sudden forceful movement. She took no heed however and instead busied herself with opening the door to her left, a few steps away from the table, and stepping out into the cool, night-time halls of the Palace.

Her pace was quick, yet measured. She walked the way her Grand Father taught her to walk – in a proud yet humble manner. As she stalked silently with her expert feet down the winding hallways, she reached up and grabbed at an ebony bang that had been scratching at her sensitive face with soft tendrils. She tucked it unceremoniously behind her ear and dropped the hand back to its resumed position, by her thigh where her weapons lay if the urge to use them suddenly arouse. Taking in a soundless breath through her nose and releasing it through her slightly pouted mouth, Lan Fan quickened her pace further, hoping she wouldn't be late.

She had been asked by her Master to meet him near 12-ish at his Quarters. She recalled the events in her mind so alive and visual, as if they were actually re-enacting themselves within the moment at hand. The thought of him made her stiffen. Not in a repulsing way, no, never in such ways. More out of respect and an unexplained fear of him. Not so much a fear of him in fact, more like a fear of displeasing him or accidently going against his word. Yes, that sounded just about right. He hadn't told her why he had needed to see her, or the reason behind his words, but an order was an order and she wasn't about to give up on her loyalty so easily over a matter such as this. It would not only dishonour her but her Lord and Grandfather as well.

She didn't know how long it had taken to reach her Lord's Quarters, but eventually she found herself halted in front of his dual-doors that blocked out his living space from the rest of the Palace. She paused briefly, a moment of hesitation out of uncertainty. With a sigh, she brushed it off with an invisible hand and knocked briefly on the door.

The sound echoed throughout the hallways, making her alert with the sound. She felt her face pale a little behind her mask (which she had previously grabbed beforehand) and she felt her automail tighten instinctively. Was the Lord even there? How late was she? She hadn't had time to check the time before coming here. She raised her hand to knock on the door again when it swung open inwardly and revealed the familiar figure and face of her Lord. He nodded at her in acknowledgement and stepped aside to let her in. She showcased a small item of appreciation in return with a small bow of the waist before sliding past him – cheeks, hidden by her ceramic mask, turning a light pink when she accidently brushed his hip.

Without a word, he silently shut the door behind her and stalked over his cabinet dresser. With a swift hand, he grasped at a small light source, a tiny flickering candle of wax, and offered it to her. With a small nod, she reached out and took it with metallic fingers, glad that they dulled the sensation of human flesh touching against a not-so-human material. But nevertheless, she felt her cheeks warm and breath hitch. Even if it was just metal against skin, the feel of it still seemed to be a little bit too realistic and life-like for her liking. She pulled away quickly, but swiftly hoping that he didn't notice her reaction to the sensation of touching his fingers. And to her relief, he hadn't seemed to have noticed. And thank goodness for that. After all, touching him was a sin.

He guided her to his dresser seat and pulled it out for her – and when she told him that such actions were not necessary, and that she would be fine standing, he had silently shook his head in polite disapproval.

"I would rather you sit," He quietly voiced, turning on his heel and stalking towards his bed. He sat upon it neatly upon reaching it and smoothed out the creases in his robes. "I want to talk to you about something that's been bugging me for a while." He raised his chin and eyed her with his dark eyes. His face seemed to be almost expressionless. "Things have built up in my mind over time. I really should've spoken to you about it sooner. Then maybe you wouldn't have to witness the burden of such a long speech." Lan Fan, whose eyes rested upon his chin, flinched inwardly at his words. He wasn't supposed to worry about her and her wellbeing.

"Please do not feel as such, Young Master." Lan Fan answered, after drawing a silent breath. "I am willing to listen to whatever the Lord has to say for no matter how long." She bowed her head in a quick swoon before rolling out her shoulders gently. The wires and mechanics in her automail arm whirred with the movement. "The Young Master's words are of the greatest wisdom." She concluded, placing her hands in her lap. They cupped the candle gently, flesh fingers absorbing the mild warmth of the slowly melting wax. For a brief second, her eyes flickered to the dancing, flickering blue and orange flame. She watched it for a few moments, as if she was mesmerised by it.

"You don't have to say things you don't mean." He answered, lips thinning into a single, straight line. "I think we've known each other for too long for that." And that was true; they had known one another since childhood. He remembered when how he wondered what she was like underneath her silent, disciplined skin. He used to wonder what games she played and what books she liked to read and how many characters she could write. It made him uncomfortable that she knew him but he knew absolutely nothing about her. She had always been a mystery to him.

He still wondered to this day what thoughts whirled around in that incredible, intelligent mind of hers.

Lan Fan knew everything there practically was to know about Ling, his role and his very being. She knew him inside and out, half from what her Grandfather had taught her and half from what she had observed from him when she watched him silently during her training breaks. Her dark eyes had followed him everywhere, his every move. He remembered the way that she would blush and stare deeply into his eyes whenever he caught hers, for a matter of confused, anxious moments. He remembered wondering what lay beyond those flickering eyes.

He used to dislike it, when he met her eyes, when she followed his every movement. He used to feel uncomfortable and awkward that she watched over him like that. But here and now, he wished she would meet his eyes like she used to. Let it be a few seconds or less, he missed the way her eyes swam when he looked into those windows that led to her soul…

– With those many untold, magnificent stories.

"Every word I speak to the Young Lord is that of my whole truth." She reassured, forcing herself to look away from the candle's flickering light. "And it shall forever stay that way." Ling paused, registering her words before giving a small smile. Lan Fan knew that it was a smile from the way that his chin moved and lifted.

"Having an honest retainer is the best type of retainer." He praised, folding his hands on his lap. Lan Fan blushed, eternally grateful that she had decided to fetch her mask before holding an audience with him, and nodded slowly – unsure of what else to do. "May I ask you a question, Lan Fan?" He asked after a moment of silence – a silence that had been somehow deafeningly loud with white noise for Lan Fan's poor ears. She snapped to attention and nodded eagerly, relieved to have something to break the stillness of this audience's atmosphere.

"Of course, Young Master." She prompted, leaning forward a little in her seat in anticipation. Ling smiled briefly again before sighing and leaning back against the post of his bed peacefully. Lan Fan watched his movements, eyes unblinkingly paying the finest of her attention to him as he started to speak.

"When we go to Amestris before the raining season," he began. "I was wondering if I needed to take any precautions concerning him." Ling finished, jaw setting straight upon the last word. Lan Fan straightened her posture upon hearing his query. Ling never really said his name much anymore, he preferred not to. It was like speaking his name was a taboo itself.

After all, upon returning to Xing from the previous travels of the Xingese-Emperor-to-be and his trusted retainer, he had taken matters into his own hands concerning the selection of Xingese women that littered the interior of the Xingese Palace. The women didn't mind and the Court had been thrilled that the young 'Prince' had taken an interest to a handful of women, but Ling had been very upset with his actions and refused to ever be alone with another woman from the Palace again.

"Lan Fan?" He asked, upon her extended period of silence. Lan Fan flinched under the mass of her thick Xingese retainer clothes. Her eyes accidently slid all the way up to the bridge of his nose, leaving her feeling unsure. Her cheeks reddened. She had failed to pay attention and appease him with thoughts of him. She felt her heart sink at the realisation of her actions and ignorance.

"My deepest apologies, My Lord!" She begged, moving the candle to the side as she proceeded to bowing deeply at the waist. Ling shook of her apologies and told her how no such words would be necessary.

"It is very late. You must be tired. And you were working on our travelling papers that I was too lazy to do myself." He told her, a hint of sorriness riddled in his soft voice. "Do you…" He paused. "Do you wish to retire?" Lan Fan picked up upon his pause immediately and bowed once again.

"Please do not worry yourself, Young Master!" She said, a little breathless. "I do not feel tired. I was just," she paused, looking for the right word. "Distracted." She finally concluded after a split second of thinking. Ling's eyes fell upon her, trying to make her catch his eyes. She felt her face heat and her heart waver unsurely. As soon as the moment started to press upon her, it lifted.

"I will make this talk a little shorter than I originally intended. I'll cut out all the unimportant details and get straight to the point." When Lan Fan opened her mouth to protest, he waved a hand and smiled at her genuinely. "I myself am very tired too. I had a busy day talking to members of the Court about my future marriages and the heirs I am to have." Upon hearing the tone that dominated his voice, Lan Fan's eyes snapped up to his in a single worried gesture. They keenly observed the twin pools of dark brown and sunken black. She observed so many thoughts, untold words and expressions… just within those two moments…like they were children once again. A thought entered her mind, a single undying thought that seized her being.

For a brief instant…

She wondered what it would be like to observe him forever…

How much could learn?

Acquire?

Discover?

Eternity was forever…

The thought was only broken the instant that Ling's line of gaze flickered to hers.

After a few moments of utter silence and staring into one another's eyes, Ling's lips started to move, slowly.

"What are you thinking Lan Fan?" He asked voice quiet and drawn out gently as he gazed at her softly.

OoOoOoO

Please choose an option as to what happens next by commenting in the reviews.

Option one:

Lan Fan breaks the line of eye contact and brushes off the situation.

Option two:

Ling drops his question after a long period of silence from Lan Fan.

Option three:

Ling decided to confront Lan Fan.

OoOoOoO

((Review your preference please! I will make a chapter two if I get some reviews – you see, the system won't really work with reviews. I may even make special chapters where the reader is in Ling or Lan Fan's perspective – which could be very interesting. Thank you for supporting the story.))