AN: Many thanks to the marvelous Mebh and AntigoneRex, for their wonderful beta work and endless encouragement. Without them, this could never come to pass. Be sure to go to their profiles and read some quality work.

For returning readers: This story has "leveled up"! I encourage you to read through again and enjoy the changes - not to content, but to style.

Disclaimer: I do not own FMA, but I do own some spaghetti.

Acclimation: Part 1

One could question the rule of equivalent exchange; what had he or anyone else done for such a thing to happen?

It wasn't raining the day Colonel Roy Mustang had been murdered. It was a warm, clear morning in Central when he had been found dead in his office, surrounded by scorch marks and his own blood. Investigations never found the killer, nor a single suspect.

The Amestris government buried him beside his best friend with full military honors given to any soldier fallen in the line of duty. Mustang had been promoted to General as well, though it no longer made any difference. The Flame Alchemist was dead, and nothing would change that.


I failed you.

Time continued on. Days blended into one another, each hardly distinguishable from the next. The passage of time was meaningless, after all, now that life held no specific purpose.

I made a promise, and I failed to keep it.

For quite a while, she debated leaving the military completely. There was no way for her to explain to those she called friends why she felt her motivation leave her, so she kept her thoughts to herself and tried to figure things out on her own.

When I was by your side, I never hesitated.

Even her aim suffered. Standing in the firing range for hours on end, the blonde practiced and practiced to steady her hand and eye, putting forth her full effort to get them to work in harmony once again.

Now... I hesitate.

It was hell working in the same office where he worked and died, living each day in the shadow of his memory, a silent accusation and ever present reminder. After putting in for a transfer, it was granted very quickly and she began work directly under the Fuhrer himself. Even if her personal life had suffered a major setback, her career was definitely looking up despite having lost all personal direction.

You needed protecting, and I was gone.

It was left up to her to dispose of his belongings. Due to military housing rules, she had to do it within two weeks.

We both know it Roy... It should have been me instead.

Though she could never be called a "cheerful" person, melancholy seemed to hang over her at all times, causing whispered concern from comrades while she pretended not to hear or notice. One of Mustang's friends, the sparkling Strongarm Alchemist himself, tried to get her to talk about something, anything, but even he gave up eventually. First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye had become an expert at making herself unavailable.

I'll never attain your forgiveness. But the least I can do is find your murderer, and Hughes' murderer.

Despite it all, Hawkeye kept busy. The Fuhrer sent her on errand after errand and there wasn't a single lazy moment where she took time for herself. Someone had murdered Hughes and Mustang, and whatever they were working on at the time must have uncovered some truth within the military that someone was willing to kill to keep buried. If Hawkeye did nothing to continue their work, then they would have thrown their lives away in vain. She was well aware of the risks, but they didn't matter. Roy... and Maes... deserved success. Even should it be posthumously. The killer would be brought to justice, no matter what true justice demanded.

At that time, I know I won't hesitate.


Stifling a yawn, the blonde officer pushed through the outer doors of the building and stepped onto the pavement, beginning the familiar trek home she could take with her eyes closed. A good thing too they nearly were, from the long hours and constant running from one place to the other. Shuddering from the oncoming chill of the night, she stuffed her hands into her overcoat and kept her pace brisk. Small puffs of steam rose from her mouth, dissipating into the crisp night air.

Autumn was beginning to give way to winter, though there hadn't been any sign of the early season snowfall quite yet. This night in particular was clear and bright, each star shining steadily on the urban landscape below. Central was still and quiet, typical for the late hour.

Hawkeye kept her eyes on the sidewalk in front of her, giving the occasional instinctive glance up to check her surroundings. The risk of her investigations being found out should have kept her on even higher alert, but exhaustion took a heavy toll.

The way home took her past the warehouse district. Even with the adjacent aging apartments on the other side of the narrow road, this area was not as well lit as the higher class areas of Central. Officer's quarters were always better than enlisted, but the shortcut to her apartment block took her through some less desirable real estate.

One block followed another as she strode on through the deepening night. Turning the corner onto a quiet industrial street, Hawkeye felt a familiar prickling sensation on the back of her neck. She lifted her head. It appeared she was alone. Shaking her head ever-so-slightly, Hawkeye did not even slow her pace. It was nothing. At first it felt like it was her old "Roy Radar", but it must have been the cold after all.

The only sounds were the regular thumps of her boots against the pavement and the rustle of her uniform as it moved. An unexpected small sound from above rang out to her ears like a gunshot in the otherwise still night. Stopping and spinning, her hand flew into the folds of her coat and gripped the handle of her weapon, withdrawing it in the blink of an eye and holding it at the ready, out of the line of her sight.

The young officer's voice called out to whoever was out there, looking directly at the line of rooftops above her. "Who are you? Reveal yourself, now!" That was not the sound of a bird or any other animal. Hawkeye had heard it often enough to recognize the sound of boots scraping against concrete. There was no doubt in her mind that she was not alone. Someone was up there but she couldn't pin him down to an exact spot. Whoever was following her was good, but even as tired as she was, her guard was up in an instant.

Slowly, keeping her eye on the darkness above her, Hawkeye backed away towards the street. No need to give whoever it was the further advantage of being able to drop on her from above. With voice resonating strength and intent, Hawkeye tried to encourage her "companion" to come out. "Come on, I know you're there. No sense hiding any longer." Even though the sound came from above, the blonde glanced around her surroundings. There was no reason to assume there was only one assailant lurking out there in the darkness.

Nothing happened. She wasn't so easily fooled, however. Her reddish-brown eyes scanned the edge of the building, watching for movement. Eventually, it came. A dark figure rose from a crouching position, the dim profile outlined by the light of the stars behind him. The weapon in her hand rose in an instant and trained on the figure. Right before she prepared to speak again, it stepped right off the roof into a deadly three story fall. The small sights on the pistol followed the jump from the roof partway until she realized there was no longer any point after that suicidal step. The weapon jerked back into place as a wave of surprise washed over her when she realized the man was very much alive, unharmed, and remained on his feet in front of her. There was no flat thud of impact, no sign of pain. Instead, the man advanced, the sound of boots hitting concrete and echoing down the empty street.

No one could do that! There wasn't much time to process her thoughts as the dark figure closed in on her. Hawkeye only took a single step back with one foot, playing it off as stabilizing herself. No, it was impossible for a human, it had to be...

"Stay back or I will fire. Who are-" At that moment the figure stepped into the dim light of a streetlamp and Hawkeye lost her resolve in the very next heartbeat, eyes widening in horror and shock. The gun in her hands lowered. She didn't even notice when she stopped breathing, though her mouth hung agape. At first the word she spoke was so weak and quiet it didn't make it past her lips, then she repeated it with whatever breath was left in her lungs. "Roy?" Still barely a soft croak.

His eyes visibly narrowed and his hands slipped into deep trench coat pockets when he stopped a few feet away away. "Roy Mustang." It was his voice, though a bit darker and laced with venom. "That's who this all comes back to... him."

In the next instant, faster than what was humanly possible, the Mustang look-alike darted forward. A gloved hand caught hold of her arm to jerk her forward into his frame. It was far too fast to fire a shot even if she could; Roy was the last person she would be able to shoot right then. The weapon almost fell from her grasp when she found herself propelled forward, twisted, and backwards into a narrow space between buildings. With her weight thrown off balance, she had no ability to resist his grasp until her back slammed against the cold brick wall. One gloved hand pressed to her mouth while the other held her wrist, his weight pressing to pin her smaller body into submission. Hawkeye stared at the man holding her, protesting cries muffled under his hand. One hand was left free for her to grab at the iron-like hand over her mouth and pull with all the strength she could muster in that compromised position. Unfortunately it was her pinned hand that held the gun and his grip paralyzed those muscles, rendering it useless. Her legs at first dangled before she remembered them, then lifted and braced her boots on his abdomen to push him away. The officer couldn't even think about this being Roy; her survival instincts kicked in and she fought with all she had.

He smirked at her fighting and shifted his body to block her attacks, what little good they were doing. A leg slipped up and forced hers back down while his body leaned forward to pin her even harder. A tongue slid along his lips as his face moved close enough to let his breath pass along her ear. "You're making this harder on yourself. But keep fighting, I like the fire."

It looked like Roy, even almost smelled like him, but the Mustang she knew would never act like this. The flurry of activity hadn't allowed her time to think of any other possibilities. What is going on here? Riza couldn't reply with his hand over her mouth. Pulling her jaws open as much as possible, she pulled her lips back and bit down on his hand, swinging a hard right hook into the side of his head. The blow jerked his head to the side and he winced at the bite, but he turned to face her once more, slow and confident with that same smirk upon his face. He growled, but he didn't appear as though he were annoyed. Instead, he seemed to enjoy it. Both meager attacks had failed, not even leaving an impression on him. Damn!

"Keep trying, it will make this much more pleasurable," he whispered.

Once his head turned toward her and she could see his eyes more clearly in the dim light, she realized with a start that they were lavender. Roy's had been dark blue. That newest shock almost made her miss what he said, but she heard after all and glared hard at him. Was this a game to him?

A flicker of some unknowable thought or feeling crossed behind his eyes, and in another faster-than-human motion, he spun her to press her front to the brick and press his weight against her back. "Now... you're going to answer some questions."

Hawkeye found her face pressed into the cold brick, the texture rough enough to scrape her cheek. Even if she couldn't fight back physically now that she had no leverage, at least her mouth was free. The Lieutenant sneered as his demand. "I'll do no such thing. Who the hell are you? What do you want?"

The smirk grew just a bit, his eyes lidding as his body pressed even tighter against hers. "Mmnn… I saw that look upon your face, so I think you have an idea of who, or rather, what I am." He kept his tone soft, almost as a seductive purr. In fact, all his motions were the same. His body seemed to flow, shift and roll in a seductive manner. Almost to emphasize it, he rolled a bit against her. "You know what I am. Say it."

The blonde listened, squirming a bit at first at his grinding against her but stilling fast when she realized that was what he wanted. Then he leaned closer, intimately closer, and she shut her eyes tightly against his image. The fall from the roof, the strength and speed, the lavender eyes, and the fact that it was... it was...

"Who..." she moaned. "Who would try to... who tried to bring him back? No, no... It can't be. Why?" Her voice rose at the last word, more of a cry of despair than anything. "Who would try to make Roy into a homunculus?" It was as if the entirety of the universe were gathering to punish her for her crimes. Her free hand fisted hard against the cold surface of the brick wall, the other tightening around the grip of the pistol. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes pinched with pain.

Through his grip on her arms she could feel him roll a shrug with one shoulder. "A woman. I only saw her briefly, but she wasn't from a western country. I was taken away soon after."

Though he kept his tone casual, the intuitive woman could sense his words were strained. Her teeth clenched, trying to get a hold of herself. Her eyes opened slowly, pointedly not looking at him. "A woman. I don't know any that would want to bring him back. It doesn't make any sense." Wait, what am I doing? As an officer of the military she knew better than to give any information to an enemy. Her eyes shut a brief few moments while her head pressed harder into the brick wall, focusing herself before opening them again.

"If you're here to kill me, you had better do it fast. You might be seen, and I won't tell you anything." The second she managed to free herself she had to try to kill him, as pointless as the effort may be. But even as she pictured it in her mind, she knew that for the first time in her life when she really needed it, her aim may suffer.

Again she felt him shrug. The fake Roy leaned closer, lips to her ear. "I'm not going to kill you." The cool confidence in his voice, that hateful purr in his voice, made her blood boil. "I'm more of a… lover, but a fighter as well." He seemed to be pondering his words, choosing them precisely to intimidate her. He kissed her neck and let his lips linger there. "No, I'm not going to kill you, you're going to give me answers. And I'll make sure it's as pleasurable an experience as possible."

The irony, how cruel, that the homunculus the former Colonel had killed now possessed his likeness.

She grit her teeth, beginning to struggle again. "No. I know who you are," she sneered. "And I won't allow it!" Using Lust's own body as leverage, she pushed against the wall until there was at least six inches of space between her and it, then dropped out of his grasp, spinning around and away even before she had hit the ground flat on her back to aim her gun at him and fire three rounds in rapid succession into his torso and neck. It was too difficult to take direct aim at his face yet.

The attacker's body jerked with each impact, especially the one to his throat. A sickening gurgling sound accompanied the blood that bubbled from the hollow wound. If he had been human, death would have found him quickly. The Sin staggered back with the force of each shot until his shoulder pressed to the same brick she had been against moments ago. His inhuman eyes widened then dulled as the strength drained from his body. Hawkeye allowed herself to catch her breath until he regained his footing and jerked his body upright, red jags of energy healing and pushing the bullets from his flesh.

"Who am I?" he asked with a wicked smile.

The blonde officer bared her teeth at him, face drawn in a fierce and angry expression. The gun remained in her hands, arms held straight and ready for the recoil for the next shots she was sure to take. The wounds didn't bother the soldier so much when she ignored whose image it was; she was accustomed to blood and gore. The expelled bullets may be new, but she didn't flinch or hesitate.

"My target!" she spat out, and fired once more directly to the center of his forehead, using the opportunity to roll to the side and flip to her knees, still holding the gun directed at the Sin.

The man whose name she now knew as "Lust" jerked back into the brick and his knees gave away to slide to the ground in a heap. This time the attack slowed him down a few mere seconds before he straightened and blinked past the blood that streaked into his vision. A hand touched the crimson liquid and with a sly smile, he licked it away from his fingers. Lust was up in an instant, darting forward again and approaching at an inhuman speed, completely ignoring the threat of the pointed weapon.

"Dammit!" How many times do I have to kill him before he'll stay down? Hawkeye would remember the effectiveness of the head shot for later- if she could get away, that was. The pistol lowered and fired into his knee. The joint shattered and he fell to his knees, which gave her enough time to get to her feet and start at a dead run out of the alley.

She had no idea where would be safe place to get away, but she had a feeling he wouldn't follow her back into the office in an effort to stay hidden. Someone would recognize the fallen General chasing her and the secret of Lust's existence would be out. It was worth a shot.

From behind her, she could hear a growled "Sonnuva..." and the hard thud of boots running after her. Her military issue boots skidded and scraped on loose gravel scattered on the concrete as she turned a corner too sharply, regaining her footing to run at full speed back towards the office building. A glance over her shoulder confirmed the homunculus was gaining on her. It seemed hopeless, but she had to try. Spinning fast, she fired the last two shells left in her gun at the largest target he provided, his chest, simultaneously shoving the weapon back into her shoulder holster and turning to escape. It had cost her precious seconds to fire the shots, but it was effective. The bullets forced Lust to stagger a few steps, buying her some time as he was forced to recover and heal.

The sound of his footsteps quickened then abruptly ceased. Without warning, Lust landed in front of her, a dark grin on his face, fingers lengthened a few inches and curled into claws. A small cry of surprise escaped her throat at his unexpected appearance. There was no way to avoid slamming headlong into him, but before she made contact, Lust grabbed her coat, and using her own momentum, pulled her back into the dim space between the light of the gas lamps. Once again, she found herself pressed back against a wall.

"It's not that easy, Riza Hawkeye."

Her face set in angry yet pained determination and another gun appeared in her hand, pressed hard to his temple. "You had me promise to end you if you went wrong. Well, things couldn't have gone more wrong."

The words struck a nerve - Lust stared at her in mute shock. His grip remained, but the passion behind the chase suddenly drained from him. The lavender eyes unfocused, as if seeing something only he could see off in the distance, somewhere within her eyes. She watched him fight with himself and somehow lose, his strength and confidence melting away completely, leaving a man that was exposed, open, and vulnerable. Her gaze narrowed and she looked into his eyes intently, critically, but he remained captivated and trapped by whatever he was watching.

Hawkeye hesitated.

The smirk and facade was gone, leaving... what exactly? It felt more familiar, a look more familiar to his face. The barrel remained pressed to the man's temple but her finger didn't add an ounce of pressure on the trigger. Somehow, the look aroused an old protective feeling she hadn't felt since... "What- ?"

Enough focus returned to his eyes to show that he began to look at her rather than through her. His face no longer showed the violence and anger that seemed to come with his kind. The facade of the strong homunculus was replaced with confusion, loss, and an obvious desire to understand something. Lust didn't move or try to pull away. Such a change disoriented them both. Their bodies were still pressed close, locked in a strange standoff. The barrel of the pistol shifted ever-so-slightly as she readjusted her grip, her eyes riveted to his alien, catlike oculi. The hesitation came from the lack of a sense of danger, though she knew intellectually that nothing had changed. The homunculi were dangerous. Then why am I hesitating? Granted, nothing seemed to kill him, but why wasn't she making an effort? Hawkeye's face lost its fierce character to be replaced with one of confusion, and just barely, yearning. The Sins had part of the body of whomever was intended to be resurrected, could they have part of the mind and soul as well? It wasn't so much a stretch of the imagination.

"What is it, why did you..." She took a breath, trying and failing to clear her mind. "Is it... Roy?" she asked as if calling out for him in a darkened room.

"I..." His eyes suddenly widened at the mention of that name and he gasped. The Sin's lax grip tightened and he shoved himself a few paces away from her. Clawed fingers covered his face. A groan rumbled within his chest. "You're supposed… to answer questions… not bring more."

Riza Hawkeye was a logical woman. Everything in life could be scientifically explained, even alchemy. Using logic, there had to be an explanation for this.

Running hadn't done much good, so the Lieutenant tried another tactic. Shoving the gun back into the holster behind her at her waist, Hawkeye lunged for the Sin and grabbed his black leather coat lapels, slamming him back against the wall. A familiar hard look settled on her face, one hand pulling his wrist down to expose an eye. Hawkeye pressed in close. "What 'questions'? What the hell do you want?" The determination she demonstrated easily translated to: get to the point fast.

The sudden strike and impact seemed to help bring him back to himself after a moment of recovery. His other hand lowered and that irritating smirk slid back in place. Those piercing violet eyes settled upon her again, a confident spark held within them. "Information. The images. They're of a man, one whom you seemed to be very… fond of."

"Of course I don't know what you're talking about." It was clear to the Lieutenant that this homunculus was mentally unstable. Careful observation revealed he was emotional, tense, confused, and oddly restrained for his kind. Instabilities could make it easier to manipulate someone, but she would have to be careful with this one. It was almost as if he were dual-natured. Although he was once again in temporary control of himself, the officer held onto his coat in a dominating gesture. There was still more to learn. "Do you mean Mustang?" Obviously Lust knew who that was or he wouldn't have reacted as he did at the name when they first 'met'. It was as if the bastard really were playing games with her.

"I believe you know exactly what I'm talking about." His smirk darkened suggestively. "I've seen quite a few images. Secret meetings, a couple of incidents in the office… I know what kind of relationship you two really had." So without really answering her question, he did just that. Yes, it was about Mustang. "So with such a close relationship, you can provide the information to fill in the blanks... and potentially get these damned visions out of my head." The last was spoken in a growl, his mood changing yet again.

Visions, information no one could know... "Do you have Mustang's memories?" From reports she had received of the other Sins, they seemed to be affected by reminders of their past. The statement she made earlier certainly had an effect on him, and that wasn't the most emotionally charged issue between herself and the former Colonel. "Prove it. Tell me why you burned me, what the smell of my burnt flesh did to you. Remember that? I'll never forget it."

If her first words had a negative affect on him, the last was much worse. He tensed, eyes clenched shut, his body arching back as if in true physical pain. She found herself holding him up instead of pinning him. His delayed answer came broken and strained. "So that no one else… The smell... pain..." Lust groaned from the intensity of whatever he was experiencing. "Stop... dammit!" Then he found some strength and pushed her away.

The force of the push wasn't that much, she took no more than one step back. Hawkeye watched his reaction, almost surprised at the effectiveness of that last tactic. He staggered with heavy steps that led deeper into the shadows left between the dim streetlights. A shaking hand pressed to his temple and the once strong and intimidating Sin fell to his knees.

So. That was his Achilles heel. There was no point to reaching for her gun anymore, but at least she had this.

Either Roy was still there or Roy was a part of him. He had been pursuing her, but now it was Hawkeye that wasn't about to let him get away. She looked both ways up and down the street before looking over her shoulder to him. "Come on, follow me. We'll trade information at my place."

Recovering from the unexpected 'attack', Lust cast a harsh glare to her from his position on the ground. Not only did she hold the upper hand, but they both knew it. He forced himself to his feet with the aid of the nearest wall. His anger flared and, despite his weariness, the touch melted the brick under his hand with a soft hissing sound. But once mobile again, he followed wordlessly, still dazed and his character very subdued.

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