Disclaimer: I don't own Sabrina or Fullmetal Alchemist.

'insert speech here' - this represents a character speaking in a tongue other then French or English.

Rodger, Adaba, and Jacques are original characters.

Chapter 2

Edward blinked against the bright morning sunshine coming through his bedroom window, and burrowing into his pillows, he sighed in contentment. The warm columns of light fell onto his white sheets, heating him in patches. Squirming further into the sunshine made the light fall fully on his back, it was lovely to be in his bed, with crisp white sheets, fluffy feather down pillows, feather bed, and enjoying the slow morning. He was happy to find the feather bed waiting for him when he arrived from the States; a farewell gift from his father. He was just happy that there was no school today, thank God.

Edward stopped his shifting and opened his eyes. School? No, it was work, and he was...Edward opened his eyes and looked over at his night side table at his alarm clock. Late! SHIT! He threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, tumbling to his hands and knees. DAMMIT! He was late, again! He was so dead.

Stumbling over the clothes littered like little heaps of flotsam across the floor, Edward made a bee line for the small bathroom just off his bedroom. Reaching into the curtained shower, he got the water running to the right temperature and peeled off his PJ bottoms and underwear, and jumped in. He gasped when the scalding hot water hit his chest. Moving out of the spray, he adjusted the temperature to something he could stand, and then quickly lathered up his body.

This would be the third time this week alone, that he'd be late. Dr. Marcoh was not very happy with him, and it always left him with sore ears from all the screaming the man did. It was embarrassing the way he was thoroughly raked over the coals. He barely rinsed the suds off before he was out and drying off. Hurrying into his room again, Edward did a visual check for the location of his laundry basket. He'd swear the thing had legs, and would shift from one place to the next in an effort to find a new hiding place.

Spotting laundry basket by the closet in his room, he trotted over to rummage through it for some clothes to wear. Throwing his towel on the bed, he pulled on some boxers and brown baggy cords. He found one of his white—now off white—t-shirt and carried it with him out into the living room. Holding his shirt in his mouth he quickly placed two slices of bread into the toaster in his small kitchenette and hurried over to the door to get his bag. Brining it back with him, he opened the small hotel sized fridge and dumped an apple and a juice bottle inside. He placed the bag on the floor and sorted out his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

Slinging his bag across his body, popped up his half toasted bread and mashed his feet into his sneakers. He snatched his keys off the hook by the door, and slammed his door shut behind him. Locking the door, Edward bounded down the narrow apartment steps to the ground floor, leaping out the front door and hitting the ground running.

Running full out, Edward reached back and gathered up his hair at the nape of his neck, and used the elastic on his wrist to secure it. Thank heaven that the metro was so close to his apartment, otherwise he'd be really late. As it was now, Edward figured that he wouldn't make until twenty minutes after nine, and he was supposed to start at 8:30 AM. Man, I'm in soooo much trouble, Edward wined in his head, as he dodged around an elderly man.

He just hoped that Paninya didn't find him first. Edward thought that she was actually more awful the Dr. Marcoh was. Really, he had no idea just what he did to upset her so. Did she just decide that since he was the new kid, she would pick on him?

His first month in Paris wasn't going all that well. The return letter from his dad, wasn't very sympathetic to his plea to come home, in his opinion. It's like, he was being abandoned. He pulled out his metro pass and swiped it through the card reader. The turn stile clicked and he pushed his way through.

He could hear the train coming down the tunnel and he rushed to catch it. Taking the steps two at a time, Edward jumped the reaming distance and lurched towards the closing train doors. One of the passengers saw his mad dash and held the door from closing.

"Merci." Edward's chest heaved as he crossed the threshold. The kind passenger let the door close and smiled before turning and taking a vacant seat. Backing up to lean against the doors, he watched through the opposite windows as the underground passed by. The train always made him reflect and remember things he didn't want to remember. Like that time when he was eight, and Winry had just come home from boarding school. He had spent hours making a box like they did in school last week made of macaroni. He glued and then painted the cardboard box with a gold paint, because she liked gold. All to welcome her home.

He had waited with the other servants for her arrival, his present hiding behind his back, in his sweaty palms. When she finally arrived, she swept down the line acknowledging their comments and smiling sweetly; Roy trailed behind, dressed in his blazer and tweed pant suit, his hands clasped behind his back. For a fifteen year old, he acted like his father, or so Edward had been told. Old and stuffy; Winry's ever present guard.

When Winry worked her way down the line and smiled at him, Edward had forgotten all about his present, and could only smile uncertainty back. Patricia, who had been standing next to him, he remembered, patted his head when Winry walked away. After that he had wondered the grounds, pouting. The box held out in front of his chest, he finally sat down under the old willow tree on the far edge of the Mustang's property.

He couldn't remember what happened to it after that, but he did remember searching for it after he had eaten supper that night when he noticed that it was missing. He had searched until the summer light had faded from the sky, but it was gone, and he didn't feel like making another. Roy had wandered out just as Edward had given up the search and was making his way back to the garage.

Seeing his drooping shoulder's and dragging feet, Roy had made his way over to him. Edward sort of remembered him being nice that night but he couldn't really remember what Roy did or said. It wasn't enough to make him comfortable around the teen though.

The train slowed to a stop, next stop was his. Edward tried to expel his childhood memories, as he moved away from the door to let people off. He supposed that he'd be doing this a lot, this remembrance, during his time here. Maybe it was like leaching out poison, or pulling out a splinter. The cure was almost as painful as the injury.

At his next stop, Edward squeezed through the door before it was even fully open and ran up the stairs. Wheezing at the top, he had to waste precious moments to regain his wind. He ran down the street and up the steps of the old archives building.

"Edward!" A familiar voice called.

Edward stop just before entering the front door and turned to see who was hailing him.

"Edward, take the back way, come on." Russell waved him over from behind a stone lion guarding the front doors.

"Russell! My alarm didn't go off." Edward retraced his steps and squeezed behind the statue.

"I covered for you, when Dr. March came looking. They don't know your late." Russell informed him as soon as he stopped in front of the taller boy. Motioning Edward to follow, Russell lead the way to the corner of the building.

"Oh, thank God. I wanted to be able to retain my hearing." Edward sighed with relief that his skin and all his body parts were going to be staying with him a while longer.

They fell silent, as they work their way around the side of the building and to the back door and on to the main part of the archives. Russell led him to the empty lunch room, and Edward stashed his bag in his locker. When he turned around, Russell threw a bag at him, which he snatched neatly out of the air.

"Nice catch," grinned Russell. "You got really good reflexes."

"Thanks. What's this?" Edward looked into the brown paper bag. Frowning, he pulled the garish teal plastic clock covered with bizarre cartoon characters. "What's this?"

"Three times in a row, means your alarm clocked is fucked. You can have this one." Russell came along side Edward and pointed out one of the characters. "This guy's my favorite. That frog was so funny to me as a kid--"

"Was this your's? You actually had something like this?" Edward looked up into Russell's face as he bent over him. He was touched that this guy was making such a gesture of friendship, but then when he looked back at the hideous clock...

"Yeah, it's ugly isn't?" Russell took the clock from Edward and flipped it over. "Here's how you set it." Edward nodded and turned it over. "I know it's not a 'guys' clock, but its really reliable and has never let me down." Russell told Edward as he studied it.

"Thanks Russell! Do you want me to pay--"

Russell held up a slim hand, forestalling his next words. "It's a present, from a friend. Hurry up and put that away, we should go get you seen so no one begins to wonder."

"Right." Edward replaced the clock in the paper bag and re-opened his locker placing the bag carefully on top of his own.

"It's good to see your not wearing your baggy shirts today. I was beginning to wonder if you might not be fat under all those clothes. You're actually quite delicate aren't you?" said Russell leading the way out of the lunch room and to their work places. He eyed the boy coming up behind him as he hid his face in his hair.

"I'm not small!" groused Edward. He adjusted his shirt, noticing for the first time that he was with out his extra layers. In his rush to get to work he'd totally forgotten to grab his baggy plaid shirt that he wore over everything and he was feeling exposed with out his usual garb.

"How old are you?" Russell inquired, abruptly changing the subject.

"Nineteen. Why?"

"At nineteen you don't have much chance to grow anymore," snickered Russell.

"What! Are you serious! I'm done growing? That can't be, my da's huge!" complained Edward, his arms waving high above his head to indicate how tall his father was.

"But how big is your mother?" Russell held up a finger and looked across at Edward. "What?" Russell dropped his finger and turned to look at the boy when he stopped in the middle of the hall, with his chin touching his chest.

"I don't know. I never knew her," Edward mumbled. He wondered what it would have been like to have a mother. If only his da would see that Patricia was a kind woman...

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories." Russell took an abortive step towards the blond and then thought he better not.

Edward rubbed his shoulder along his ear. Another sore point he'd have to deal with, it seemed. Sticking on a large smile, he brushed past Russell and hurried on to their desks. After a few moments, Edward could hear the other boy rush to catch up.

Glancing sideways at him, Edward could see that Russell was worried about the distress he had inadvertently caused. "Don't worry about it." Ed assured the taller boy. "It's hard not knowing her growing up. Sometimes it just gets me weird, like, I'm lonely or something." Ed tried to explain his feelings so that Russell wouldn't feel bad about hurting him any more, but he had hardly thought about it himself, let alone try to explain it to someone.

"Can I make it up to you?" Russell pulled on Edward's arm stopping him from entering their work room.

"You don't have too, really." Edward couldn't help it, he was blushing. He really wasn't used to people touching him so easily except for maybe his da.

"I want to. You've been here almost a month now, and I don't think that you've really seen Paris yet, have you? Let me take you around, please," Russell brought his palms together and held them in front of his mouth, pleading.

"Um...okay, if you really want too--"

"I really do!" Russell grabbed both of Edward's shoulder's in his excitement. "I know all sorts of great places. You'll love it." Smiling at the stunned expression on Edward's face, Russell slapped his back in a friendly manner and propelled them the rest of the way towards their work.


Leaning over the side of the stone bridge, Edward studied the water rushing along below his feet. A small house boat was slowly making it's way down river towards him. The painful chugging of it's engine rose above the sounds of the passing cars as it neared the bridge, and the white wake of it's passing, shattered the calm smooth surface of the water, making the evening lights glisten in the water's reflection. Going up on his tip toes, Edward tried to look under the bridge to see if any birds were nesting under the struts like they did on the buildings back home.

A warm gust of summer air lifted the bottom of his shirt, and he slid back off the railing to pull it down. "It's great here." He leaned his back into the stone and looked across the bridge at the night sky of Paris in summer.

"Yeah." Russell turned as well, taking in the city scape as he leaned against the bridge. "Shall we go on to the bar?"

"But, Russell, I'm not legal, how am I going to get in?" Edward didn't think his father would be too thrilled to know his son had gotten thrown in jail for underage drinking. He could already imagine what his da would say to him.

"I know people," Russell waved the protest away. "Plus your good looking." Edward blushed hard at the causal comment on his looks. "They would want you there. Makes the club look good, to have beautiful people there."

"I don't know..." Edward chewed on his thumb nail in his unease.

"It'll be fine, trust me."

Edward nodded and thrust his hands in his baggy jean pockets. Russell had somehow convinced him to abandon his many layers for the night, but he drew the line at ditching his loose fitting jeans. As they walked the night streets, Edward stared in awe of the buildings and it's people many of whom were out on the streets talking with one another, as if was too hot inside.

Russell tapped his shoulder and led them down a seedy looking alley. "Here it is," he declared, sweeping his arm, and smiling widely.

"I don't get it? Is this some sort of French humor?" Edward asked, looking up and down the trash strewn alley. He hunched his shoulders as he watched a homeless man shuffle across the far end, and shivered.

"No, no, look here. It's ultra high class." Russell stepped up to a heavy metal door and banged it twice. He stepped back, next to Edward and waited.

Glancing side long at Russell, Edward quirked an eyebrow as the wait drew out longer and longer.

"I tell you, it's good, trust me," Russell patted the smaller blond on the shoulder and turned back to wait some more.

"Riiight. Listen thanks for the invite, but I think I'll just go home."

"Nonono, you can't leave yet." Russell grabbed Edward around the waist. The small blond squirmed in his effort to extract himself from the ever tightening hold. They wrestled, Edward trying to pry off Russell's encircling arms and Russell, trying to keep Edward from leaving.

Just as Edward had broken Russell's pawing hands away from his waist and was about to step away from the taller boy's body, the door swung open, and a large wide man filled the door looking at the two young boys in what, to him, must have looked like a compromising situation.

"Tringham?" the mountain of a man asked.

"Jacques," Russell let Edward go. He ran a hand through his long bangs, smoothing out his appearance, and smiled at the bouncer. "Jacques, this is Edward, he's from America."

Edward shifted and pulled his t-shirt lower, and inched closer to Russell, but stopped himself from hiding behind him all together. That man was huge...

"How do you do, Edward," the bouncer answered in heavily accented English. He gave a small half bow, and returned his stare to Russell. "Just the two of you tonight, Tringham?"

"Yes, please, Jacques," Russell beamed at the nervous boy beside him, throughly enjoying the fact that Edward was seeking refuge behind him.

"This way, please," Jacques stepped into an alcove beside the door, leaving them room to pass.

Placing a hand on the small of Edward's back, Russell guided the smaller blond before him into the club. He tried to hide his smile as Edward tried to look everywhere at once. It was very fetching. Nudging his back once more, Russell moved past him to climb down the white stone steps, leading the way. Now that they were inside, the pounding of heavy bass could be heard. Pushing open the heavy door at the bottom of the stairs, Russell shoved his way into the throng of people milling about trying to talk over the loud music.

Gawking at the stylish new age feel of the club, Edward realized that he had lost Russell almost immediately after entering. Many off the people standing by the door were giving him the eye, and one woman even rubbed along his back, pressing her breasts to him. His eyes went wide as he mumbled his apologizes to her, but he could have sworn that she didn't mind in the least. She may have even done it on purpose.

Maneuvering off to the side, Edward got out of the crowds way and leaned up against the wall. Chewing on his lip, he scanned the milling people trying to spot Russell's bright blond hair in the constantly shifting throng, and blinking lights. Heaving a large sigh, he had to admit it, he was small, just as Russell had said. It wasn't until Russell had pointed it out to him the other day that he had even thought his height. He was about 5'2" now, if he was lucky he figured he might get another inch or two with the way things were going.

Scanning the crowd once more, Edward stopped when he saw a couple making out on the low slung back seat in the corner, near him. He could even see the woman's naked breasts as the man groped at her skirt, pulling it ever higher. He was dumbfounded that no one seemed to notice or care that two people were about to have sex right in front of everyone.

"Oh, don't worry about that, we're going in the back. It's better there you'll see." Russell shouted in his ear. He had two drinks in his hands and thrust one at Edward. The small boy started and looked up at him in momentary fear. "Why'd you take off like that?" Russell asked.

"Jesus, you scared the shit outta me," Edward admonished, grabbing at his chest as if to stop his heart from escaping. He reached his other hand out to take the drink Russell was insistently waving under his nose.

"Sorry," Russell breathed into his ear, leaning in to respond. He took a moment more to breathe in the smell of Edward's shampoo before straighting and nodding that he should follow him.

Edward nodded, and took one more look at the couple in the corner. Peeling his eyes away he took a quick sip of what ever Russell had pushed at him, and was surprised at the yummy flavor. He drank some alcohol once before when he had stolen the brandy from his father's cabinet to try it out, but this was way better then that was, it didn't even burn.

Hurrying after Russell, Edward made sure to stay close as the people along the bar wove in and out in an effort to get the next round of drinks or to return to their table. After almost loosing Russell twice to the throng, Edward reached out and held on to the hem of Russell's shirt. The taller boy looked back at the slight touch and smiled, causing Edward to blush.

"Crowded!" Edward shouted. Russell nodded and continued to lead them to his destination.

The pounding music let up somewhat as Russell led them down a enclosed hallway. This area was free of the pressing crowd so Edward let go of Russell's shirt and took his time to study the decor. Taking another sip of his drink, he noticed a cascading water fall on their right and he reached out a finger to touch the water as he passed by.

"Where are we going? I thought you wanted to dance and stuff," Edward asked. Russell smiled at him over his shoulder and continued to walk down the mostly deserted hallway. Shrugging, Edward followed behind, taking another sip of his drink. He didn't mind this place, it was neat, with all the clean lined furnishings and white painted walls. He really like this style.

"Here we are." Russell drew back a beaded curtain and waited for Edward to pass through. His eyes never left Edward's small frame as it brushed lightly across his body and entered the room, stopping just inside. Letting the curtain fall, Russell took up a position on Edward's left side and surveyed the room with him.

Edward's mouth was hanging off his face as he stared around the sunken room. A milling crowd of people were sitting on the tiered seats, talking and drinking, but what really caught his eye was the ring in the middle of the room under bright overhead florescent lights.

"Whoa..." breathed Edward, "what's all this?"

"I noticed you had some pretty good reflexes, I don't know if your into this sort of stuff, but I didn't think it could hurt." Russell held out his hand and motioned Edward to find a seat.

Closing his mouth with a click of his teeth, Edward moved down the wooden steps towards ring side. "Can we sit down front?" he craned his neck to ask Russell, who was a riser behind him. This was so cool, like a movie or something. That one with Jet Li, where he has to fight in the ring, it was something like this in a way. Those movies always made him hyper and want to jump around and stuff.

"Sure," smiled Russell in response.

Edward grinned huge, and rushed towards two ring side seats that were still vacant. He plopped his bum in the metal folding chair and turned to watch Russell walk slowly towards him. His friend, he figured he could call him that now, spotted someone walking towards him and waving. Holding up a finger to Edward, Russell walked over to the man who was trying to signal him.

Edward watched for a moment as they talked, but the excitement of the place was building, he could feel it. The murmurers became loud and people were taking their seats. He wondered what type of fight they were going to watch. Boxing maybe, or maybe some mixed martial arts like on the ultimate fighter matches on TV. That'd be really cool. He could feel his blood rushing around his body. Taking another sip of his drink, he placed it on the floor so it wouldn't get in the way later.

Edward glanced again at Russell, who was still engrossed in his conversation. Russell noticed Edward's stare and winked at him before turning back to concentrate on the man while he was speaking. He felt the heat creep up his neck, but luckily Russell didn't get to see. Turning back to the ring, Edward sat on his hands in an effort to keep still.

'Hey, boy! Those are my seats!'

Edward looked up into a mashed face, thrust into his own. The deep black of his skin and his pock marked face made the speaker's eyes pop out all the more. Edward blinked as the man spoke in a tongue he didn't recognize. It wasn't French that was for sure.

'Kid, I'm warning you...'

"Sorry, what?" Edward shrugged his shoulder's and mimed that he didn't understand what the man was trying to say to him.

'Are you back talking me, boy?' the man straightened up and glared down his flattened nose at Edward. His wide, solid frame took up the whole view of the ring. He crossed his arms as he continued to glare at him, tapping his foot in his annoyance.

Edward glanced nervously at Russell, seeking help or a friend to deal with this guy. His jaw was gripped in massive sausage like digits and his head was forcefully turned around to look up into the angry man's face.

'Look at me when I talk to YOU.' the man bellowed, shaking the captive boys head, making his shoulder length hair dance and bounce.

Edward could hear gasps from the crowd as people began to notice what was happening near the ring. So shocked was he, that he couldn't even think about getting away or calling out for help. He just sat there dumbly, with his eyes wide, trapped in the vice like grip on his jaw.

The man growled at Edward, his face darkening even further. Lifting the small boy to his feet with the grip on his jaw alone, he dragged him to the edge of the ring.

Fighting to breathe and work the hand off his face, Edward followed as best he could to ease the pressure on his face. The man threw him as the ring's edge, and he could just make out the collective gasp of the crowd over the pounding of the blood in his ears. Tripping over his own feet, Edward instinctively threw up his arms to protect his head from smashing in two against the ring's edge.

He collided sideways; his elbow taking the brunt of the impact, making his arm go weak as the pain laced up and down his arm. Then the meaty hand was back; twisting through his hair, making his head arc backward painfully. He was yanked backwards, and then thrown back into the ring. His head slid along the rough canvas, pealing away the skin on his left cheek and temple.

His body was bent in half, with his legs dangling over the side of the ring. The assault paused and Edward could hear shouting. Cracking his eyes open, he looked through his hair at Russell and Jacques yelling at the man to stop or the police would be called. Edward looked over at his attacker. He noticed that with the way he was turned towards Russell, it made his knee vulnerable to a good kick that would topple the man to the floor.

As soon as he made the connection, Edward cocked his leg. He twisted as much as the man's grip would allow to get a better look at where he had to aim. He kicked out viscously, hitting the joint dead on. Yelping his surprise, the man released his hold and tumbled to the floor in a graceless heap.

Pulling his arms under him, Edward slowly raised his torso from the ring. Russell was edging around the man on the floor coming to him; he looked freaked out. His wrist was gripped tight and he was pulled out of striking range of his attacker. Pushing at Russell to make him stop, Edward turned around to watch as the man was carried out of the club by several bouncers. He was screaming loudly and kicking his feet making the men carrying him grunt as they tried to maintain their hold on him.

The crowd, with their show gone began small pockets of excited conversation, until the room was buzzing again with what they had just witnessed. Russell tugged on his arm.

"Edward, lets get you cleaned up. I know the owner, we'll use his office." Pulling Edward around the ring, Russell led the way to the high up office over looking the room.

Gingerly testing the wound on his face, Edward followed closely behind Russell. His body had yet to react to the shock it had sustained, but he had no doubt it was coming. He wanted to be somewhere private just in case. Russell kept looking back at him, but he couldn't think of anything to say. They climbed the stairs in silence, with Edward lagging behind as his body protested the climb, and the shock began to slowly assert itself.

Holding open the door for Edward, Russell felt a huge pang of guilt for his guest. Who knew that the ex-champ was going to be here. He had always been difficult to deal with. He was going to recommend to Rodger, the owner, that he be permanently banned from here. Edward stopped in the middle of the room, glancing at the decor. Carefully encircling those small shoulder's with his arm, Russell guided Edward to the couch, and had him sit.

Those wonderful golden eyes—were they always that color, he wondered—looked up into his face. Running his hand through his hair, Russell turned and strode over to the desk. Pulling open the bottom drawer, he rummaged about before producing the first aid kit. He brought the kit with him, setting it on the side table and sat on the arm of the couch. Titling Edward's head to the side, Russell picked through the contents, looking for the disinfectant.

When he turned back, Edward was shaking...hard. It didn't surprise him that Edward was reacting thus. He was so shy, it was probably his first time being in a fight. The adrenaline was just now catching up with what had happened to him. Sliding down the arm, Russell sat with Edward, his folded leg just brushing against the shaking boy.

Edward enfolded his hands together, pressing the palms tight, in an effort to still his quakes. His mind was strangely blank, as if waiting for him to tell it that it could work again.

Russell dabbed a gauze sheet with disinfectant cream and lightly started to clean Edward's cheek. Those golden eyes darted to the side fixing on him for a moment before they returned to his lap. Removing a flesh colored patch bandage, that didn't match Edward's lightly tanned skin from the kit, he placed it over Edward's scrape wound. The small blond winced when Russell pushed the edges firmly to make sure it didn't fall off.

"Edward..."

Edward's eyes skipped over Russell a moment before falling back to his lap. He jaw worked, making his neck ripple as it flexed.

"I w-w-wanna learn-n-n how t-t-to fight-t." Edward stuttered through chattering teeth. This had just proved to him how weak he really was. No wonder Winry didn't pay any attention to him.

"Are you sure?" Russell pulled the boy to his chest, rubbing his back in slow, hopefully soothing, circles. At the shaky nod on his chest, Russell sagged. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you. If only I had noticed that he was here--"

"S-s-okay." interrupted Edward. He sniffled as the emotions started to catch up to him as well. He didn't want to cry, but his eyes were leaking anyway. "I-I've never b-been in a fight b-b-before." his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, sniffling back the approaching tide.

"I know. I'm so sorry Edward, I promise to make it up to you." Russell laughed, humorlessly. "I had meant for this to be a fun night. Watch a fight, drink a little, some dancing."

They fell silent. Each of them thinking about what could have happened. Slowly Edward's shaking began to slow, and the rush of emotion eased.

The door was pushed in, and a man in his fifties peeked around the door. "How is he Russell?"

Edward shifted, looking at the speaker from his position on Russell's chest.

"He'll be alright. He was just startled. Any trouble getting Adaba out of here?"

"No. I'm going to go ahead with the fight. Any objections?"

"No, go ahead, Rodger."

Nodding Rodger closed the door leaving them alone once more. Russell continued to hold Edward. He was enjoying the way he fit in his arms, and he loved the wraith like body he had. Edward began to squirm in his arms, so tried to make him more comfortable. He subtly move Edward around so that he was leaning against him easier.

"Um...Russell? What are you doing?" Edward shifted, but Russell held him in place. The slight pressure from Russell's hand on his shoulder stopping him from sitting up.

"What?"

"Er...your hand..." Edward looked down and Russell copied him. There, on Edward's hip very close to Edward's groin, Russell's hand was working steadily closer as he kneaded the muscles. Edward's face grew hot as he watched those fingers still, and he felt Russell tense.

"Oops." Russell hastily removed his hand, and Edward sat up. "Listen, do you want me to take you home, or do you want to stay out? What do you want to do?" Russell completely ignored where his hand had almost gone, and focused on a safer subject.

"Um...Let's walk along the river," suggested Edward. He didn't want to be around all these people anymore.

"Sure. Let's go now, okay?" Russell stood and held out his hand to hoist Edward to his feet.

Smiling, Edward gripped his wrist and stood. He wondered what his da would think about what had happened tonight. Maybe he shouldn't tell him until he was home, because his da might make him come home, and then he would have to leave his first real friend.

-- To be continued --