Hey guys! So while I've been unable to type very efficiently because of an injury, I've pretty much decided to release a few chapters of some fanfics that I started but never continued. I just feel like some of them deserved to be read, and who knows, I might feel like continuing them.

Anyway, please excuse any typos or mistakes, as some of these have been written as long as three years ago.

This one was one of my all time favorites. I felt like I had a great plan, and a great beginning, and a great idea, and great plot twists, and- But I couldn't work out the second chapter simply because of WRITER'S BLOCK! Grr! I hate it so much! I was also looking forward to expanding on my ideas on Drachma, because I feel like that hasn't really been done and I would've loved to have been the first. Sigh!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, nor Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. If I did, all of the male characters would act suspiciously similar to Jacob Black from Twilight... Meaning their shirts would be off every other scene. Oh wait... I forgot about Armstrong... THIS SERIES IS PERFECT.

(Haha, just kidding. More than one shirtless man would distract me from the ridiculously amazing story line and plot.)

Caramel brown eyes peeked out of the train door, which was cracked open by only a few inches. The girl glanced left and right before her breath hitched silently. Two train conductors, dressed in blue uniforms, were opening the doors from several cars away, nightsticks in hand and checking for stowaways who thought they could get away with free travel; much like her.
She watched patiently for an opportunity. The very same moment both of the men ducked their heads into the adjacent car, she quickly slid her metal door up enough for her to slip through. In a second, she rolled to the ground, wincing when she landed on the iron tracks. She did her best to stop her momentum, and rolled the opposite direction. Once she was hidden under the train, she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"What was that?" She heard one of the conductors question, taking several steps closer. The girl bit her lip, realizing he must have heard her hit the ground.

"Hang on, Ronny," the other conductors warned, stepping up beside his partner. He switched to a whisper, but she was near enough to hear. "The door's open. Get your stick ready."
The girl could imagine the second man pressing a finger to his lips, signaling silence, as he crept to the other side of the car.
The girl knew that the two men would investigate very thoroughly, so she could no longer stay on the ground. She had planned to latch onto the bottom of the train to keep her completely out of sight, but she knew that doing so now would create too much noise. She would be caught for sure, and she would either have to pay the ticket fee or go to jail, neither of which sounded very appealing. The girl thanked the Heavens when she realized that the conductors were checking inside the car first, which meant they had to open the door completely - not an entirely quiet task. She would have to move then.

She could see the two pairs of feet on either side of the door, ready for an attacker. As she tensed her slightly bent knees in preparation, she wondered how she would ever time her jump right.
Luckily, her eye caught the shadow of the second man as it stretched across the tracks. He was counting off three fingers to his partner. When he reached his last finger, the door was wrenched open with a metallic squeal.

Simultaneously, the girl arched her back, and let her weight fall on her knees. Then she pushed off the ground and latched onto the iron pipes traveling along the bottom of the car.

The conductors hopped on the edge and their feet vanished, and for a moment the girl wondered if they had heard her and were preparing for a sneak attack.
However, soon she heard their boots creaking on the floor and realized that they could never sneak up on her. A minute later, the puzzled conductors climbed off the car. The first one, who the girl assumed was younger, crawled on his hands and knees and dipped his head under the train. The girl held on tightly.
It was over in seconds, and the man rose to his feet.

"That's strange," he muttered. "Did it just open up on it's own?"
"Well," the second grunted. "We better report this anyway, just in case. After we finish our rounds, that is." The two marched further down the tracks, opening and glancing inside the remaining cargo cars.
The girl waited until she couldn't hear them anymore before she dropped to the ground and stuck her head out. At first the bright afternoon sun hurt her eyes, but she quickly adjusted. She crawled out and straitened her back, stretching her muscles.
Then she smiled in anticipation and made her way to the edge of the town called Dublith.

Dublith was considered small, especially in Amestris's terms, but it was roughly twice as large as the city Alice had been raised in. It was quite a deal warmer, too.
It was also extremely far away, and Alice planned to take a break from traveling for a few weeks before moving onto Rush Valley, a town not too far north of Dublith. Alice would probably spend a few days there as well, considering she was running out of stamina. That was very understanding, especially since she had traveled through three countries in the last month alone. She felt she would probably die if she pushed on now, and it wasn't like she was in a rush anymore; she was way ahead of schedule.

Alice examined a map of the town at the train station. Several blocks away she noticed an Inn. Relieved, she set out in that direction. Her body ached and protested against her walking, but she didn't really have a choice in the matter.

When she reached her destination, she groaned. The supposedly cozy yet small Inn was empty, old, and abandoned. There were no lights, no people, and no way inside. She was way too exhausted to scale the wall and kick a window in (if you've ever tried it, it's very taxing). Stupidly, she hadn't thought to check the map at the train station for another Inn. Now she would have to walk all the way back, and there was no guarantee there was another Inn in the entire town. It seemed like she would spend another night on the streets.
For some reason, perhaps because switching directions took too much energy, Alice took and alternative path to the station. As she passed the neighboring building, she passed a tiny, rough looking, underground pub, which made sense. However, from the rambunctious, obnoxious, drunken laughter resounding from inside, she assumed the pub had been the reason of the Inn's bad business. If Dublith had a dark side of town, Alice had discovered it. She almost spun around to take her first route to avoid trouble, but she was tired and cranky.
"Screw it," she muttered, trudging down the road.

Trouble found her not seconds later. On the side of the block, hidden in the shadows, a poor and skinny man was shoved up against a wall. He didn't look ill, just stupid, and scared. A stout man stood above him threateningly.
Alice paused mid-stride, unsure of what to do. She summed the situation up pretty quickly, but she couldn't decide wether this guy was getting mugged, or he owed money. If it were the latter, she really shouldn't get involved, but she didn't want to stand by and do nothing if this guy genuinely didn't owe anything. She was about to take her chances and go over there, but shrugged and continued on her way.
Chances were this guy was a resident in Dublith, and if that were the case, he would know better than to walk through the dark side of town alone. He probably owed the thug.

The aggressor took a step forward, and his strange attire caused Alice to pause again. He had a skin tight black shirt underneath what appeared to be a Samarai outfit. What's more, he had an actual katana poised at his waist. Alice decided to stick around and watch, so she pressed herself against the corner of the building.

"The Boss really doesn't take too well to traitors," the man in the Samarai outfit sighed as he widened his drawing stance. Alice was surprised at how young he was; he was probably in his mid-to-late-twenties. Her interest was peaked even more at the mention of this 'boss', whoever that was.
"Just return what you stole from us, and I'll let you wake up tomorrow. Deal?"

The cornered man trembled slightly before he put on a brave face.
"Go to Hell!" He spat, clicking a fancy knife open. The gleaming metal REALLY caught Alice's eye, and she was suddenly very glad she stayed behind to observe.
The cornered man lunged forward, swiping the knife upward. Smirking, the Samarai took half a step back before bringing his shoulder down. In a flash, he snapped the hilt of his Katana in the man's gut before he fully sheathed it again. The man coughed up spit, but otherwise remained standing, albeit off-balance. In a fluid motion, the Samarai swiped his foot underneath his, and he finally fell. His head hit the cement hard, and Alice knew he would have a headache in the morning.

The Samarai's smirk widened and he righted his back.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," he all but sung. Kneeling, he rummaged through the unconscious man's clothing until a black leather bag was removed. It's metal contents clanged together.

Alice whistled like she was impressed, slipping from her hiding spot. The Samarai whipped his head up before he gripped his hilt again. The bag of money had been expertly concealed from sight.

"That vas a nice show," She purred, leaning against the wall.

The Samarai scoffed, realizing she was just a girl. He no longer crouched, but he still rested his hand on his blade.
"I wouldn't walk around these parts alone, girlie," he mocked. "You might get hurt."
Alice, grinning mischievously, slipped closer to the sleeping man. She bent over, but her eyes roamed the Samarai's body underneath her dark bangs. Stuffed away in the robe-like top, she spotted the money bag. Her hand closed around the fallen knife, which was still loosely held in unresponsive fingers. Alice leisurely got to her feet, dusted her clothes off, and took a step back the way she had come, shrugging her shoulders in a way that meant she was backing off. She completely turned around until her back was facing the man and she was nearly out of the alley.

"What the-"

In a flash, Alice shot back at the Samarai, knife slashing. To his credit, his reaction was immediate. He leapt back, avoiding an otherwise fatal blow, but Alice's blade struck the leather pouch. She flung it up in the air, snatched it with her free hand, and ducked out of the alley.

After that, she broke out into a dead sprint, despite the protest of her tired limbs.
"Hey! Come back here!" The Samarai shouted, taking chase. Alice heard his footsteps and realized he was closing in on her. She tucked the pouch in her black jacket and under her arm.
If only she wasn't so stiff!
She tried to keep her pace even, but no matter how hard she pushed, Alice began to slow slightly. It was time for a little trickery.
She darted left, circled a building, darted right, ran half a block, and switched directions once more, but the man was still hot on her heels. No matter how much she cut off his line of sight, he never once fell for her craftsmanship. It seemed like she had run through all of Dublith.

Then she made a costly mistake. She took another left turn, only to be stopped in her tracks by a wall; a dead end. Alice, seeing no other option, spun on her heel and faced away from the red bricks. Her chest heaved slightly and a healthy sheen of sweat misted her skin. She waited, smirking when footsteps were heard, approaching fast.

When the Samarai rounded the corner with a victorious grin, Alice held her arms up in surrender, careful of the bag. She made sure it was out of sight, although the man most likely already knew where it was. His eyes gleamed with triumph as he cautiously - yet confidently - closed in on her.

"Look, just give me the bag," he coaxed, extending his unoccupied hand (the other was back on his blade.)

"And you'll let me vake up tomorrow?" Alice mocked, remembering what had been said to the original thief. The Samarai growled before giving her a confused look. Soon he blinked in understanding and his mouth formed another devious grin.

"Judging from your accent, you must be from Drachma."

"Drachma?!" Alice gasped in fake horror and surprise. "Vhy, that vould be impossible! There are very strict border lavs that vould prevent anyone in Drachma from entering Amestris!" Alice made sure her 'accent', which was usually partially suppressed, was extremely thick.

"Heh," the Samarai scoffed. "Do you 'vant' me to turn you in?" He countered.

Alice tensed, regretting her teasing. She was completely cornered and all she had managed to scrap together for her escape plan was 'piss this guy off'.

"I would be very thankful if you didn't do that," Alice admitted, speaking careful Amestrian. She hoped her facial expression was apologetic.
Her entire demeanor seemed to do a 180; no longer was she in a defensive stance, but one of surrender. Her back was against the wall, and her smirk had been wiped off her lips.

"Che," the Samarai chuckled. "How dishonorable. At first you seem sly, you even crack a few jokes, but the second you realized that you're in REAL danger..." He trailed off, shaking his head. He stretched out his hand once more.
"Just toss the bag over."

Alice removed the bag from under her arm and held it out. Slowly, she took a step forward.

'It's now or never,' she thought. Her body tensed in anticipation.

"Just TOSS the bag over," the Samarai repeated assertively, countering Alice's step progressive step with a step back. She swore aloud in her native tongue.

She had been planning on getting close to him so she could injure his drawing arm with her brand-new, sleeve dwelling knife. If he couldn't use his Katana, it wouldn't be a problem to knock him out cold, and she could make away with her sack of treasure. But he had been smart enough to distance himself.

Boy, did she need that money. She could imagine the medium rare steak she would buy, and how many mushrooms she would slather on top of it. Alice's head felt heavy as she imagined a nice, warm bed she would be able to afford. She bit her bottom lip and stared longingly at the pouch in her palm.
Letting out a pained sigh, she tossed it in the air. It clunked in the Samarai's hand as he caught it.

"That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" He teased, slipping he sack of money into the folds of his shirt. Alice wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have if he was no longer there, but the Samarai never turned to leave.

"We'll, since I'm no longer needed..." She trailed off, attempting to slink past the man. The Samarai just chuckled.
"As thankful as I am to you for returning the bag," he sarcastically remarked, "I can't let you go."
The Samarai finally drew his Katana. The resounding sound of scraping metal was heard. Of course he wouldn't just let her go - at least not without roughing her up a bit. She had just tried to rob him, and he seemed like the type to hold grudges.

Alice discovered that the Samarai was aware of her hidden (and newly attained) knife. His slanted eyes watched her sleeve smugly. Alice saw no use in keeping it there. She withdrew the blade and flicked it in front of her.

As if he were doing her a favor, the man chuckled, and then lunged. He was much quicker than Alice had anticipated; his lean muscles were falsely interpreted as bulky. However, Alice herself was very agile. She side-stepped to the right at the last second, and glided past him. Her right arm rested on his back shoulders, and she pushed off. The Samarai scoffed in annoyance, finding himself off-balance. Alice was now standing behind him, so he spun to face her. Her stance must have been new to him. She stood tall and relaxed, but she was ready. Her arms and knife were up and pressed against her body, like she was holding it away from a child.

The Samarai dove towards her and aimed for her side, but suddenly he planted his foot and swiped his Katana upwards. Again, Alice took a small step to her left, but this time she parried the sword with her knife. The small blade and long blade clashed, and Alice smoothly glided forward again. She used her knife to keep the man's Katana at a safe distance, otherwise he would have switched his slicing momentum in her direction and injured her hip.
Now her body was even with his, and their hilts met. Instead of stepping past him again, Alice snaked her arm around his, much to his confusion.

The Samarai growled as her arm flexed and his elbow was forced to lock. His arm felt numb with immobility. With her left hand, Alice quickly delivered a blow to the nape of his neck, causing him to grunt and fall to his knees, paralyzed. As quickly as she had detained the man, Alice released him and smoothly retreated several yards away.
It took him a moment to recover his movements, but once he did, the man jumped up, eyeing her angrily. Her punch hand been a very strange, very foreign technique. Instead of thrusting out and extending her elbow, she had raised her fist and leveled it down, like she was using a hammer.

"Heh, you're pretty good," the man admitted, somehow still appearing condescending. "Maybe I won't go easy on you anymore."
Alice let a chuckle escape her lips in mockery. However, she didn't doubt that this man was holding back. Most men wouldn't just attack a girl full out like that, even if she had robbed him. It just wasn't chivalrous to go all out on a woman, and it would hurt his pride.

Alice watched warily as the Samarai cautiously circled her. His stance had been widened and his blade was centered in front of him. She noticed he had very precise footwork, and thought back to how he hadn't really unsheathed his sword until moments ago. She wasn't an expert on swordplay, but she recalled that usually the masters never raised a blade until a battle had actually been engaged.
She was very unfamiliar with weapons with such a long reach, so she wished to end this skirmish as soon as possible.
Alice took the offensive by propelling herself forward at top speed. The Samarai swung his Katana forward to block, but Alice never actually tried to cut him. She cut right, but he followed with his guard up. For a second, the two of them were dancing in circles, but Alice successfully managed to plant herself at his back. The man tried to spin and leap away, but she copied his movements like a shadow. No matter what he did, she was at his back and unreachable, and he grew frustrated. As did Alice, for she was exhausted.

"Nice try," The man spat as he smoothly stabbed behind him with his blade - she had slightly slowed to the point where he caught her movements in the corner of his dark eye. The sword tore a rip in her black jacket, but otherwise missed. Alice grunted and whipped her hand to the backward blade's hilt, which was at the Samarai's waist. She couldn't cease her momentum and accidentally slammed her shoulders against his. Now they were back to back, and her hand was covering his at an awkward angle. They struggled over who controlled the Katana, and they both shook with exertion.
This wasn't an ideal position for Alice, since this man was obviously stronger, but she had no other ideas and used all of her strength into holding the man still.

"Wow, I guess you really like me," he teased, still struggling. Alice barely remembered when they both held the hilt with two hands (her knife had been dropped and forgotten at her feet), but she managed to tug it past the man's hip. His arms were in an awkward position and he couldn't use his full strength, otherwise Alice would have lost their game of Tug-a-War.

"Has anyone ever mentioned your ego before? It's rather large, and distracting," she returned, grunting through gritted teeth. The two let out bitter laughs, unintentionally pressing themselves against the other's back to gain the upper hand.

"Dolcetto!" A voice squeaked, breaking the two's concentration. Alice recovered first and tore the Katana out of the man's grasp. Unfortunately, with one hand occupied, she failed to keep a firm grip on the handle and it flew off. The blade landed in the cement with a clang and Alice dived and rolled next to it, to guard it. As she ht the ground, her hand found the hilt of her knife and she was once again armed. The man swore vulgarly.

"Dammit, Bido!" He cried, turning to Alice, whose eyes searched for the newcomer the voice belonged to.

"But...! Dolcetto! Mr. Greed wanted to know what was taking you so long! He won't be very happy to find out you were dancing with a lady while on a job..."
Alice whipped around in horror, realizing the voice was behind her. However, it did sound sweet and innocent, albeit dry and unattractive.
"What?! Don't be stupid! I was in a fight!" Dolcetto, the Samarai exclaimed.
Even though she searched, Alice couldn't find the owner of the voice.

"Fighting?" The voice echoed. Alice tensed, her caramel brown eyes wide. She tilted her head up.

A scaly, green, round face stared back at her.

"Hello, Lady," Bido greeted.

Thanks for checking this out!

Alice's real past was supposed to be revealed later on. Actually, her real name is Anastasia and Alice was just to seem more Amestrian... and there's a lot more that needs to be explained.

I wanted to base Drachma off of Russia, and I tried my best to write out her accent. In the future, I really wanted Greed to call her Aly-Cat. T.T

So because I'm not continuing this, I am willing to answer any questions about the future, if you were just DYING to know! Just review or shoot me a PM.

Also, I'm not opposed to the idea of adopting this out.