A/N: Hello again! This chapter is unfortunately short, but the next one is incredibly long. I just didn't want to make this chapter part of Chapter 1 because of how long it already was. So, Enjoy!
~ InkRoze
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, but I DO own Asher, my other OCs, and my version of Selim.
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"What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us."
- David Henry Thoreau
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Selim laced his fingers under his chin, and, leaning forward, rested his elbows on the arms of his comfortable chair. He stared out into space, thinking, his low, ebony ponytail falling from his shoulder to trail down the back of his crisp black suit. The man across from him shifted a little on a black leather couch, not sure how to respond. He had employed Mr. Bradley- Master Bradley, really, the boy was 19- because he was told by a trusted colleague that Selim was the best. But currently, all the so-called detective had done, was ask him short, pointless questions, and stare into space with his cold, deep purple eyes. The man was beginning to fidget out of irritation.
"Mr. Biard. Please, sit still," Master Bradley intoned dully. Irked by the fact that this boy- whether Selim was his last hope or not- was telling him what to do, James Biard stiffened. He was about to respond, when Master Bradley suddenly stood. James shut his open mouth.
"Thank you for entrusting this case to me, Mr. Biard," Selim said emotionlessly. "I assure you, by six tomorrow, I will have caught your thief, and recovered your mother's jewels; give or take about an hour for the military's cooperation. Good day." With that, Selim opened the door, ushered Mr. Biard out of his study, through the hall, and out the Bradley estate's front doors. As the doors closed behind him, James blinked. What had just happened? Unsure of what else to do, he picked up his bag and discarded hat, and made his way back home. James Baird hoped and prayed that Master Bradley could do what he said he could. Those jewels meant everything to him.
On the other side of the door, Selim Bradley was leaning against the mahogany wood, giving the wall across from him a dark look. A maid, who had unfortunately decided to walk by, could have sworn the plaster was peeling under his gaze. With a sigh, Selim stood straight, and walked back to his study with clipped, measured steps. His head maid was waiting for him with a tray of tea. She was a middle-aged woman, with blond hair, and kind gray eyes. Despite her age of forty-one, she still looked quite young, and had a pretty face. She kept quiet until he settled in his favourite black leather armchair.
"Master Selim? Would you like some tea?" she asked. Selim waited until she had shut the door. Then he relaxed, all of the tension from the day draining into the worn leather. The head maid noticed the stress lines in his face. Not deep, but on a 19 year old; too deep.
"No, June, but thank you. It is alright to talk now. I doubt my client is still here after that abrupt dismissal, and the other maids are in the kitchen." June King gave an exasperated sigh and put her tray of tea down.
"Selim, should you really be straining yourself right now? You had an attack only yesterd-"
"I am aware, June, thank you," he interrupted. She gave him a stern look. There was silence for a long while as June poured him tea. Not uncomfortable silence; there was just nothing to be said. She handed him a cup of Xingese smoke tea, his favourite. He adored the smoky taste, as unusual as it was.
"So who was the thief? Where are the jewels? And how in the world did you figure that out without leaving the room?" June asked. It was a tradition of theirs. After every client, June would pour his tea, ask him what the result of the case was and how he had figured it out.
"Simple, really; it was the gardener. How cliché. The jewels are more than likely in the gardener's apartment. The damning evidence was in the staff files and Mr. Can't-Sit-Still-For-Five-Seconds' account." June spoke before he could continue.
"Mr. Can't-Sit-Still-For-Five-Seconds? That's a bit of a mouthful, even for your nicknames," his surrogate mother said, amused.
"It suits him well," Selim muttered darkly, and June was reminded of the fact that, even though he acted otherwise, Master Bradley was still just a teenage boy.
"Well, now that that's sorted. Would you like me to send the message?"
"Yes, please. Tell him to make sure he isn't seen. It would ruin everything."
"I always do, and he hasn't been noticed yet. I swear, Selim, when the Furher resigns, it will be your fault."
"Well," Selim said, with an eerie smile, "Something to look forward to." June resisted the urge to shiver, slightly worried for the sanity of the Furher of Amestris.
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