I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do own Hazel. If you notice any errors; spelling, grammar, plot, OOC, please tell me.

.-.

"I'm going to take a walk." I murmur, "I'll bring you back some food ok? I'll find someone to watch you but you have to stay in here ok?" Kimblee growls but doesn't argue, more than once he's tried to trick me into letting him leave the room but I held strong and I think he's grown to accept it.

"Fine. Bring me back one of those pastries you brought for lunch, would you?"

"If they have them." I promise and just like that I leave the room. Instead of heading straight off I find a young soldier I recognize as one of Archer's underlings. "Soldier." I tap his shoulder.

"Oh, Major Bishop." He salutes me.

"At ease," it feels so weird to have people salute to me, "you're aware of Lt. Colonel Kimblee?" He nods his head and his face pales. "Perfect, stand here and do not let him out. He's not to be seen by anyone." I pat his shoulder, "I'll be back shortly."

I hurry down the hall, I don't want to leave Kimblee alone for too long, though he listens to my orders quite well I'm not sure how well he'd listen to that soldier, the man didn't look that strong-willed to me. The mess hall wasn't that far away but most soldiers were switching duty so the hall was full of chattering bodies. Nobody seemed to notice me, despite the fact I'm a tall girl, I have to ease my way behind people just standing and talking and taking up space. The evil part inside me wanted to shove someone out of the way but I'm not evil, the more I think about it the more I think about why Kimblee kills so easily, I'll have to ask him.

Suddenly there's a loud boom and the ground shakes a little. Soldiers glance to each other but shrug it off. On the other hand, my blood runs cold. Kimblee. Food forgotten I take off, pushing my way through soldiers, tying to get to the door. More than once someone pushed me back or held me in place. My blood starts to boil and water gathers to my skin, the soldiers had the sense to back off and let me by. I ran until I neared the courtyard before I start to walk, soldiers run by, guns in their hands, and I follow.

Mustang stalks by with a large suit of armor and a string of soldiers. He doesn't even glance at me as we walk by, I salute until he's out of sight before I continue running. He looked pissed and the only thing I know that makes him make that look is Kimblee. Oh dear God, what has that man gotten himself into now?

In the center of the courtyard was a half destroyed stone block, a few soldiers standing with guns in their hands, and a bloodied Kimblee attempting to get up. I drop to his side and inspect the cuts on his face and the tattered mess that once was his uniform. "What happened?" I demand.

Kimblee smirks up at me, "Nothing you need to worry your pretty little face over doll." A shudder runs down my spine and I feel my face heat up, people don't compliment me anymore, why would soldiers compliment each other?

"You're too reckless." I tell him as I grab his arm and attempt to hoist him to his feet. Archer appears beside me, with a soldier at his heels and with the soldiers help we manage to hoist Kimblee too his feet.

"My office, the both of you." Archer clicks before spinning on his heels and stalking off with the soldier trailing after him.

If I get in trouble because of Kimblee I'm not going to be happy.

Said injured man drapes his arm over my shoulder and leans heavily onto me. My back groans under the weight but I put my hands around his waist and help him walk. His breathing seems labored but occasionally he'd chuckle as we walk at a much slower pace than Archer. Liquid soaks into my shoulder and I fear it's blood, that's never going to wash out. Suddenly it hits me, "You could have died!"

"Yea and?"

"You're so reckless!" I cry exasperated.

He chuckles, "You can't live life afraid to take risks."

"If I get in trouble because of you I will not be happy." I growl.

"That's the kind of spunk I want to see from you." Kimblee pats my shoulder before breaking into a coughing fit. His whole weight drapes against me and I do everything I can to keep the both of us standing. The fit subsides and the alchemist stands again, we reach Archer's office and I salute while holding Kimblee up.

"What the hell happened?" Archer demands, a cold fire burning in his eyes.

"I needed to get food so I found a soldier, one of your's that knew about Lt. Colonel Kimblee, and left my post so I could get food. I was in the mess hall, I heard a boom, and I went running." I then glance over at Kimblee who smiles.

"I can't tell you sir." The Crimson Alchemist says slowly.

Archer laces his fingers and narrows his eyes. Whatever happened is above me, which doesn't leave many officers. Kimblee and Archer know, clearly, Mustang must have known. I wonder if Armstrong knows. "Very well." Archer says curtly. "Major Bishop, take Lt. Colonel Kimblee back to his room and dress his wounds. I'll be there shortly to relieve you of your duties. Do not leave his side again."

"Yessir." I salute and loop my arms back around Kimblee who grunts and stumbles away with me. The halls are silent besides his hard breathing and the shuffle of his boots. Nobody walks by us, which is probably a good thing considering. His room is just as I left it, but the missing block of concrete outside his door didn't escape my sharp eyes. He must have blown something, or someone up. Suddenly it hits me as Kimblee drops himself down onto his bed. "You killed that soldier didn't you."

"Huh?"

"Didn't you." I point a finger in his face and glare.

He smirks, "He was ready to defend his country by any means."

"You blew him up." I storm into the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. "I can't believe you." My heart clenches at the loss of the soldier, despite the fact I didn't know who he was, what if I'd been here? Would Kimblee have killed me? I drop the kit down beside Kimblee before, none to gently, prodding his shoulders.

He hisses and grabs my hands. "Christ, just ask me where I'm hurt, would you?"

"No!" I glare and yank my hands from his. "You're a reckless and horrible man."

"Are you insulting a superior officer?" The alchemist smirks and I get back into his face and glare. He snickers. "So all it takes to get you riled up is killing someone? You really are an enigma Miss Hazel."

"That's Major Bishop." I stand up before open the first aid kit. I can't believe he just took some man's life.

Kimblee says nothing. I go to the bathroom and get a wet washcloth before I stand before the injured man, one hand on my hip, the other holding the wet rag. Those gold eyes narrow and that smirk make my whole body shudder. "I have some cuts on my chest." He informs me.

"I can see that." His dark brown shirt is torn and turning dark with blood.

Carefully he removes the military jacket and takes off his shirt. It takes a lot of concentration not to stare at his chest as I wipe the blood from a cut on his chest. His skin is pale and taut and I can see the contours of his muscles, nothing serious like Armstrong's, but enough definition to tell he's very in shape. Professional. This man is injured and needs his wounds dressed. This man killed another man just moments before. Suddenly Kimblee hisses and I realize I've been pressing too hard against the cut.

"Sorry." I apologize. "Sir, what happened?"

"I got into a scuffle." Kimblee replies before he suddenly drops back onto the bed as if the mere act of holding himself upright was too much. I roll my eyes before I knelt down and continued cleaning the wounds across his chest and shoulders. There's a small cut on his face and when I go to wipe it those gold eyes capture my own eyes and refuse to let me go. I swallow hard and force the look he gives me out of my mind. His eyes close and I'm able to work in peace, cleaning his wounds before getting out gauze and other fixings.

"Lt. Colonel, please sit up so I can dress your wounds… please?" Kimblee lets out a groan before he forces himself upright. Red blood leaks from the wound on his shoulder and I wipe it away. "Sir, if you like death so much, why are you having such a difficult time with these wounds?" I ask as I put some pads over the shoulder wound.

"Because," The Crimson Alchemist whispers, "you're here taking care of me."

I pull back and glare. "Sir, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You know very well what I mean." He smiles at me.

"Explain it to me." I demand.

Kimblee laughs and shakes his head, "You're incredible Bishop! Fearing death yet willingly staying by my side. Having an analytical mind but no strategy skills. Hates 'pointless' death yet bandages the man that killed thousands for fun." My hands shake and I drop my head. "You're so smart yet so naïve." I let out a loud exhale before sitting back up and quickly bandaging Kimblee's wounds. He's right, of course, I'm stupid, I contradict myself all the time. "Don't worry Bishop…" Kimblee whispers, his breath hot on my cheek as I wind gauze around his shoulder, "I don't mind…" He moves his head and our eyes meet, his breath warms mine. He smells like blood and smoke and something musky. Part of me thinks he's going to kiss me and the other part thinks he's going to make me explode.

"Sir, I need to bandage your wounds." I murmur. He exhales, his scent fills my nose. I lean back and wind bandages around his stomach.

"Ugh, careful." The alchemist grunts as I dig my hand into bruise on accident.

"Sorry." I murmur.

It doesn't take much longer to clean his wounds when I put a bandage over the cut on his cheek he falls back onto his bed and kick out of his boots. He looks so relaxed and calm laying shirtless across his bed, the gauze on his wounds already turning red. Without anything else to do I pack up the first aid kit and put it back into the bathroom.

"Hey, Bishop?" Kimblee calls.

"Yes sir?"

"I'm hungry."

"Sorry sir, I can't leave you." My stomach growls too. "I would have brought you back food if you had behaved." I glare and Kimblee smirks, his eyes still closed.

"Sorry doll, can't keep someone like me locked up forever."

I fold my arms and lean against the wall, as I do I think about death. Did that soldier get a second to think about his life before he exploded? Or was his life just over like -that-? I'm not sure which I'd prefer. I don't think I'd want to know about my death. I'd hate to have a long death, I want a quick death.

"Bishop?"

"Yes sir?"

"I'm hungry."

"Sir, there's nothing I can do about that." I squeeze my eyes shut. Kimblee groans. "If you don't mind me saying, sir, you'd be able to eat if you hadn't blown up that soldier and whatever else you did." He just groans again, he's like a badly behaved child, they'll continue to do the same bad behavior without thinking about the consequences, mainly because nobody's ever taught them it was wrong. "Sir, you can put a shirt on now." I say before I drop into my chair.

"I'm more comfortable this way." As if to taunt me, the black haired man stretches his hands above his head and arches his back. He hisses, the wounds must sting, and his body drops back on the bed.

"Do you want to play chess with me?" I ask.

"You want to play chess?"

"Sure." Mostly I don't him to be this mope-y crap anymore. It confuses and depresses me. He's the reason he's here in the first place yet he acts like he's the one that has it bad. Maybe I'm enabling him. Either way Kimblee stood, slowly, and drops himself into his chair. I set up the pieces, fully aware of those gold eyes watching my every move. Finally I sit back and let Kimblee's mind rule the game. Halfway through our second game Archer enters the room.

"Kimblee, put a shirt on." Archer demands but said man barely lifted his head as he moves his rook. "Bishop, you're relieved of your duties for the evening." I look up for a second before I look back to the game and move my knight.

"Let me win this game first." Kimblee says.

Archer struts over and stands by the chess board, his presence bothers me and I can't think. I move my pawn into a stupid place. My body literally twitches as Kimblee smirks and takes my pawn. "You're not the best player, Bishop."

"She's improved." Kimblee says as I move another pawn. "Still not the best player." He moves his bishop, "Checkmate."

"Damn it." I growl before standing and looking over the injured man's pale chest. The bandages seem to be holding. "I'll be back tomorrow?"

"Yes." Archer nods his head. "Thank you Major Bishop."

"Yea." Kimblee nods his head to me. "You bring me any food Archer?" I gather my things and listen to Archer reprimand the Crimson Alchemist for a number of things.

"Bye sirs." I salute before I leave and head straight to the mess hall. I should have asked if Kimblee wanted me to bring him back something but Archer intimidates me every now and again and that was one of those moments.

The mess hall is deserted and I have no problem getting myself a snack before heading to my room. My bed welcomes me with open arms. My food is eaten quickly before I disappear into sleep.

.-.