Thief!

NAZISM IS NOT COOL.

But Alfons is, so there.

Four – Roy and the Gun

At approximately 4:56 AM, Roy was peacefully sleeping in his king sized, silk sheeted bed. He rolled about, snored lightly, and muttered some woman's name with a smile.

And at approximately 4:58 AM, he was abruptly awoken by the obnoxiously loud sound of metal clanging in his kitchen.

"Wha--?" he grumbled blearily, trying to sit up straight. He looked around, as if the sound was coming from his room directly.

CLANG! CRASH!

Even in his sleep, he was quite possibly the best godfather ever. He knew his godsons like the back of his hand, for one point. And he could identify both of them in a pitch black room with a blindfold.

This was no different.

"Edward," he hissed, climbing out the bed grumpily. Stumbling out his room, half-asleep, he wandered into the kitchen only to confirm his suspicions. "What the hell are you doing, Ed?"

The blond continued to pull pots and pans out the bottom cabinets obnoxiously. "Where the hell do you keep your knives?" he demanded.

"It's five o-FUCKING-clock in the morning, Ed! Why can't this wait until, I dunno, seven or something?" Roy snapped.

"I'm trying to get to school early so I can miss the general student population, but I can't leave without a damn knife… Augh!" he cursed as a whole barrage of cookware fell out the cabinet. "Christ! How many pans do you freakin' need?"

The black-haired man stared at Edward, who hopped around the kitchen some more.

And he had a horrible urge to ignore this and go back to sleep.

"Look," he grumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Just, shit, just take my gun. It'll…ahhh…it'll be good enough probably." He waved lazily towards his gun holster on his coat rack.

Ed's golden eyes widened. "But…won't I get in trouble?" he asked.

"At that school?" Roy retorted. "They'll probably give you props or whatever kids are doing these days. You'll be fine. Now, I'm going back to sleep, and if I wake up and you are the reason again, you'll be spending the night in jail. With a man."

"All right?"

And Roy happily went back to sleep while Ed grabbed his gun holster, pointing the weapon in random directions.

He slept peacefully until nine.

--SCENE BREAK!—

"Hey brother, what's that thing you're attempting to hide underneath your shirt?" Alphonse asked as they journeyed through the rising sun towards the school.

Ed smirked. "What do you mean, attempting to hide? You wouldn't be able to see this with X-ray glasses!" he replied with a sneaky smile.

Al shrugged. "Actually, I can see it really easily. You're wearing that gay skintight shirt again."

The older brother frowned. "This shirt isn't gay…" he whined.

"It really is. So, what're you trying to hide? A really realistic water gun?"

"Actually…" Ed said, reaching into his shirt. He pulled out a gun. "It's a real gun. For my first period class."

Al was appalled. "Dear God, it's so shiny…" he whispered, touching the cool metal. "Hey, isn't this godfather's?"

"He told me to use it."

"No way! Only irresponsible adults would give a minor a gun!"

"Then I guess what is Roy?"

Al was speechless.

"…Can I touch the shiny metal again?"

Ed chuckled. "Sure Al, touch it as much as you want. I'm going to bust a cap in some nigga's ass!" he crowed, raising the gun up high.

A passing black guy threw him a dirty look, and Ed smiled apologetically.

"Sorry!" he called to the guy. "I just overheard some guys say it at my school to each other and thought it was a word for 'friend'!"

"Fuck you!" the black guy yelled back.

Ed was perturbed. "Geez, people here get offended really easily," he commented, hiding his gun underneath his shirt again.

His taker brother looked behind his shoulder. "That's the first time I've ever seen a black person up close…" Al said in amazement. "Colorado sure is sheltered."

"Colorado isn't sheltered, Al. We are."

--SCENE BREAK!—

Bald sighed exasperatedly. "Look Bitch," he growled. "I told you to bring in a knife two days ago. I'm looking at your desk right now, looking straight at it! And what do I not see?"

"A knife?" Barry asked smartly.

"Exactly! What is your fucking excuse, Bitch?" he snapped. "If you don't have a good reason, then you're target practice for today's lesson!"

Edward smirked. "You want a good reason?" he challenged. He pulled the gun from under his shirt, placing it on the desk. "There's your reason."

Dorochet's gray eyes widened. "Tha's a full on Walther P99, only used by the cops and one o' the best guns around! How the hell a pussy like you get a hold of that?" he demanded, leaning so close to Edward's desk that he was almost smelling the gun. Which was probably what he was aiming for.

Bald and the rest of the students stared at the gun and Edward in shock.

Barry jumped on top of his desk to get a view. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "How did a pussy like you get firepower like that?!"

Ed scowled. "I really appreciate the nicknames, guys," he muttered sarcastically. He looked at Bald. "My godfather is…" Wait, would telling him that Roy is chief of police a smart thing? They might kidnap me or something for ransom, which Roy would not pay because I'm not a woman and he's thinks anyone with a dick should know how to protect themselves in even the worst of situations… Damn him to hell. "…a drug dealer." Yeah, that's not suspicious at all. Let's go with that, Ed!

Bald cocked an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked. "Which spot does he work?"

The small blond faltered. "Uh, excuse me?" he replied.

"You know…" the large man made obscene gestures. "Which corner does he sell? What alley does he trick? What street does he rake? …Where does he sell drugs, kid?"

"Oh. OH!" Ed looked around nervously. "The, uh, Central Precinct?" Shit! Way to go Ed, now you're going to get kidnapped for good!

"Ooooh," the teacher answered nodding his head. "Poor guy got caught. I feel for ya man, that Chief Mustang is one relentless motha--."

"Er, yeah. Real hardass and…stuff."

"I hate him." Bald snarled, cracking his knuckled. "After busting me three times for illegal weapon trafficking, he sent me HERE, to fucking teach Social Studies. I never forgave him for that shit."

Edward looked nervous. "Uhm, me neither. I, uh, really dislike him," he lied unsteadily.

"Next time I see that fucker, I'm going to put my 'Social Studies' lessons to work and shank that mothafucker."

"Eurgh!" the blond flinched, frowning.

"I'm gonna stab him, and THEN I'm gonna stab him some more!"

"Irk!"

"And I'm gonna slice his fuckin' neck!"

"Ow!"

"Then I'm gonna stab him right in the—"

"Okay!" Ed shouted. "I get it, you want to severly damage him."

"But I wasn't done—"

"Yes you were! Hey, how do you do that thing again?" the blond asked hurriedly, eyes darting around the room.

Bald cocked an eyebrow. "What thing?" he asked suspiciously.

"You know…" The teenager made an obscure stabbing gesture. "That stabby thing, the one where you thrust and stab suddenly."

"You mean shanking?"

"Yeah, let's learn about that. That is what this class is for, right?"

The teacher chuckled. "You know what, Bitch?" he said teasingly. "I think I might like you."

Dorochet ruffled his hair, smiling. "Me too, Blondie. You ain't that bad fer a Colorado guy."

Ed grinned back. It seemed like he was actually getting somewhere with his new school.

--SCENE BREAK!—

And the progress went right back down the drain in second period.

Apparently Izumi wasn't the easiest person to gain respect from.

"All right, pussies!" she shouted as she marched in front of all the students in her class. "Today, we're going to learn something that might save your meaningless lives one day. We're going to learn how to swing a purse, lethally."

Ed's eyelid twitched. "Except, none of us are women. I'm not even sure if you count." Later in life, he'd claim that it was temporary insanity that possessed him to speak those words to the most hardass of gym teachers.

The entire class got dead quiet.

Izumi marched up to him, eyes narrowed to mere squints.

"Pussy Number 35," she growled dangerously. "I don't appreciate the way you're all new and shit, but you're acting like such a smartass. Just for your smartassery, you can be the prime example for today's lesson!"

"Ha!" the Asian kid crowed. "Serves you right, Stupid American!"

Ed sniffed, insulted. "Why can't Chow Mein over there do it?" he grumbled. "He's causing more commotion than I am!"

"No, Ling is my best student. Now get to the front, Pussy!"

The blond grudgingly came to the front of the students, facing Izumi as bravely as possible. "All right, now what?" he asked.

Izumi picked up an innocent looking purse from the ground. It was nicely decorated, and it was quite light seeming.

"Now, you have to make to attack me," she instructed, holding the purse on her shoulder like she was going shopping instead of teaching self-defense.

Ed shrugged. "Easy enough." And he stepped back a few meters. Izumi smirked, and he made a running leap, doing a front flip and attempting to slam his feet into her torso.

She ducked down and slammed the purse into his face, making him practically fly back.

"And that is skill number three, the "Duck and Slam". It is most useful when the attacker is upside down in some way," she explained, swinging the purse on her hand. The gym teacher caught Ed doing cartwheels in her direction, obviously prepared for another attack.

With a side-step, she swung the purse underneath his arms as they were landing, making his lose his balance and hit the ground with a painful thud.

"I thought I said attack me, not do fucking acrobatics!" she snapped, hitting Ed on the head with the purse while he was still down.

"Ow!" he whined, trying to cover his face. "Not the face!"

"Oh, trying to resist, are you?!" She hit him harder repeatedly.

"Why is no one stopping this?!"

"Its part of the lesson, now take the beating like a man, pussy!"

Ed would never live down the day he was beaten down with a purse by his gym teacher.

--SCENE BREAK!—

"Oh dear, what happened to you, Ed?" Alfons asked worriedly as Edward plopped in his seat next to him, a bandage over a particularly red welt on his cheek.

The shorter blond sighed. "The zipper scratched me a little too hard," he replied sadly.

"What zipper?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Kimblee tapped his meter stick on the board. "Children!" he called. "It's education time! Today we will be BLOWING MORE SHIT UP."

"Woo!" the class, including half of Edward, whooped.

"And today's shit will be… these DVDs of High School Musical 2!" the greasy-haired man narrowed his eyes. "If this shit isn't blown to fucking smithereens… I swear to my Christian God I'll make you pay."

He smiled again. "'Kay children, get your DVDs, a bunch of these chemicals, and blow this shit to fucking snow."

Ed stood up, went to the material table, got the supplies, and went back to his shared lab desk with Alfons.

"Do you want to use the blue shit or the purple shit?" he asked as he put both tubes of chemicals in the tube holder on the desk.

Alfons thought about it. "Why don't we use both?" he asked. "It could be blurple shit. And we might get a bigger bang."

"That just might work. Okay, I'll work on the blurple shit, and you can prepare the DVD."

"All right."

And they worked in peace for a few minutes.

That is, until the neo-nazi made an offhand comment.

"So," he started. "I heard you were talking to Envy."

Ed looked at him. "Is he Jewish or something?" he demanded. "Because you and everyone else keep saying that creep's name as if it'll give you Super AIDS or something!"

"No, he's most definitely not Jewish…" a dreamy look came into Alfons' blue eyes. "His father is an especially beautiful specimen, and he was too before the dye and the contacts. I just heard you were talking to him, that's all."

"Is there something wrong with me talking to him?"

"If you're looking to get robbed blind, then yes."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

Alfons rolled his eyes. "I mean he's the best kleptomaniac since Houdini, and he doesn't even use magic. His success rate with stealing is, like, 99.8 percent."

Ed cocked an eyebrow. "What about the other .2 percent?" he asked slowly.

"Apparently he's trying to steal someone's watch, and he hasn't been successful yet. I feel bad for the poor guy, since Envy is relentless."

Ed held up the blurple shit. "Yeah, me too. What an unfortunate guy. Okay, put the DVD in the bag!" he said quickly.

The other blond hurriedly did so, and Ed immediately dumped all of the blurple shit in the bag. "Duck!" the two screamed to the rest of their class, who heeded their warning immediately. The bag exploded into thousands of tiny metal shards, and Kimblee looked as though he wanted to cry.

"This… is BEAUTIFUL," he gasped. "Troy Bolton never saw it coming! Triple A plus!"

Alfons and Ed gave each other victorious grins.

--SCENE BREAK!—

Envy, that lunch, did not find his newest victim.

But, he did "accidentally" find a pair of new kicks.

"Nice shoes," he commented to some freshman that loitered in the trashed courtyard of the school.

The freshman smirked. "I know, right?" he bragged. "Newest edition of Nike's, bona-fide shox, man!"

Envy yawned. "That's nice," he commented. Then he widened his eyes and looked over to some random direction. "Oh my god, it's a generic fairly popular rapper! And he's over there!"

The freshman jumped, snapping his head in the said direction. "Lil' P. Dogg?!" he exclaimed. Envy jabbed him in the back of the neck, knocking him out.

He took the guy's shoes.

"Heh, sucker."

--SCENE BREAK!—

"Nice shoes, Envy," Wrath complimented.

The green-haired teen smirked. "I know, right?" he replied. He raised his chin in question. "What are you doing here? You have A lunch, not D."

The sophomore smiled evilly. "Did you hear about the guy who got his ass kicked in my mom's class by a purse?" he asked excitedly. "I heard he was in this lunch, so I came to laugh at him for a few moments before skipping to my mom's class."

Envy cocked an eyebrow. "I don't know who the hell you can possibly be talking about, but…" he trailed off, catching a flash of gold in his peripheral vision entering the cafeteria. He smirked. "…But, my sexy senses are tingling, and time is ticking. I've got a watch to… accidentally find on the ground."

He stood up suddenly, and strolled over to Ed and Alfons, who were walking to a table together, laughing and talking to each other.

"—and the dog bit my leg!" Ed was saying excitedly.

Alfons laughed. "Did you scream?" he asked playfully.

"Like a girl."

And they laughed together some more.

Envy was kind of creeped out. But that didn't stop him in the least.

"Hey," he greeted sultrily. "How are you two doing?"

"…Gee, it's Envy." Alfons said, leaning his head on Ed's shoulder. "I wonder what he wants. Oh wait, I already know. You want to steal our shit."

Envy chuckled, plopping in the seat next to Ed. "Not steal, just find your stuff coincidentally and forget to return it."

"I love the way he makes thievery seem so logical." Ed whispered to his friend with a grin.

Alfons poked his bandaged cheek. "Dude, he's sneaking towards the back of your pants," he whispered back.

The shorter blond looked in that direction immediately, face becoming red with anger.

"Get the fuck out of my pants!" he hissed, smacking the older teen's hand. He stood up abruptly. "You have overstayed your unwelcome, so I'm taking the initiative and leaving my own damn self!" He stomped away angrily, Alfons walking after him with a supportive smile on his face.

Envy frowned.

This was going to take some dirty tactics.

--SCENE BREAK!—

Roy checked his pockets.

He checked his jacket.

He checked his desk.

He checked his coffee cup.

And when Hawkeye walked in, he checked her cleavage.

She pistol-whipped him.

"Ah, shit!" he groaned, rubbing his head. "Was that really necessary?"

"Yes." The blonde woman put her gun back in its holster. "Your office is a mess. What in the world happened here?"

Roy sighed. "I can't find my gun!" he explained. "I've looked everywhere for it, and it's just disappeared!"

Hawkeye cocked an eyebrow. "Where was the last place you had it?" she asked seriously.

"I had it in the holster on the coat rack, and I vaguely remember…Edward," he hissed. "Goddamn that kid!"

"You gave the gun to Edward?!"

"Not give…just let him temporarily borrow."

"You are going straight to hell."

Roy plopped back in his office chair, rubbing his temples. "I know."

--SCENE BREAK!—

"So, brother, where's the gun?" Al asked as they walked to the police station.

Ed jiggled his backpack. "In here. I didn't want to risk offending anymore people than I already have."

"That's so responsible of you, brother!"

"I know right?" the older sibling said happily as they went inside the precinct.

Almost on cue, a loud shout rumbled through the station.

"EDWARD!" Roy roared, stomping up to the two boys angrily. "Where the hell is my gun?!"

Ed reached into his backpack, pulling out the gun with an irked look. "It's right here," he said. Roy snatched it from him, checking it extensively for damage.

"Why didn't you tell me you took my gun?" the black-haired man whined.

The blond stared at him. "Um, I guess because you told me to take it in the first place?" he replied.

"But that makes me look like an irresponsible adult!"

"Then what are you?"

Roy glared. "Just for that, you're spending half an hour in a jail cell. Right now."

"With a man?"

"No, a woman."

"Oh. Well, what so bad about that?"

Hawkeye walked past. "She's on her cycle," she informed.

"Oh. Oh Shit."

END 4

TRU STORY: I was walking down the street one day, and I saw these black-wannabe Caucasian posers standing around. So I passed them, right? I passed them, and I heard ONE part of their conversation.

"—kiss that nigga's ass!"

I stopped. Just stopped in my tracks. And I stared at them. For ten minutes. I didn't know what to think at that very moment.

The poser that said it saw me for the first time. "Oh!" he exclaimed, nervous. "I'm really sorry about that. I thought the term meant 'friend' now!"

I kept staring.

"Are you offended?"

"Not offended," I admitted with a shrug. "Just trying to wrap my head around a Caucasian guy saying 'nigga' and actually getting away with it. Well, I can't, so I'll be leaving now. I'll be sure to tell my mother though!"

And I left, leaving the poor guys panicking.

I am such an asshole (I totally told my mother, who looked at me as though she didn't believe me).

LOL Roy's gun was the most exciting part of writing this chapter.

TRU FACT: I love High School Musical. But I hated High School Musical 2 with a passion (Stick to the status quo my ass). I felt like taking out my anger on the huge disappointment I felt after watching it a fourth time on this story. Sorry about that.