A few days later, after Scar's attack on Central, finds Col. Mikawa recovering in hospital. One rainy afternoon, when the man had been relaxing, he was disturbed by the door slamming open.

"I HAVE HEARD YOU ARE UNWELL, COLONEL VOLKE!" Major Armstrong walks through the door. "MAY THE SIGHT OF MY PERFECT BODY CHEER YOU INTO FURTHER RECOVERY!" he flexes and his shirt spontaneously vanishes.

Volke stares a bit, a very disturbed look across his face. "A-Ah. Major Armstrong...Y-You shouldn't have bothered."

"Do not fear, Colonel, for the sight of my perfectly sculpted muscles has aided many a soldier into full health!" Major Armstrong almost seems like he's going to hug Volke

Volke twitches slightly, still recovering from several broken bones. He edges back slightly. "I'm sure they have."

The door opens. Armstrong glances, then his eyes widened and he straightened into a salute. "Führer!"

"Stand down, Major." the one-eyed man smiled at Volke. "Do you like melons?"

Volke's eyes widen and he sits to more or less attention. "Führer B-Bradley." He stammers slightly, obviously surprised at Amestris' ruler coming to visit. He blinks at the question. "Y-Yes, sir. I do."

"Oh, good. I had brought one for the Brother's Elric, and there was a sale, so I thought I'd stop by and give you the other." he hands Volke a melon in a net-bag.

"T-Thank you very much, sir." He frowns slightly at the mention of the Elric brothers. "H-How are they, sir? They didn't get too hurt fighting against Scar, right?" He seems a bit worried about the two.

"No, they're fine." The door opens in and in comes Arc. His hoodie has been stolen, and like many people in Amestris, he wore a black tank under it. it showed spirals of metal on his upper arms.

"Hide me." he dives under Volke's bed

"...Arc?" He asks, cautiously, he then looks at Bradley. "A-Ah, my friend seems not to have noticed you, Führer..." He states the name in the hope that Arc gets the picture of who is in the room.

"..." Arc sticks his head out from under the bedsheets. "... Hello sir." He doesn't try to smile. "Reporters scare me. And they won't leave me alone."

Bradley sort of just watched him for a bit, then smiled. "You're the one who helped take down Scar, Mr. Arc Shoan."

"that'd be me sir." Arc agrees

Volke blinks, seeming surprised at the Führer's information network. He then realises. "Reporters?" He echoes.

"They wanted to know how a non-soldier stood a chance against Scar." Arc complains. "Or If I knew anything more than they did about the Elrics or you or Scar himself and I don't like those questions. They should ask you. not me."

"Soldiers aren't supposed to talk about their missions without superior's express commands." the Führer says. "That's why they're targeting you, as a civilian."

"Exactly. Not that I like talking about nearly having my guts splattered across a wall..." Volke mumbles.

"Exactly." The Führer smiles at Arc. "you could get away from the reporters, both newspaper and radio, if you became a state alchemist. You certainly have talent enough for it."

Arc stares at him. "Ahh... sorry sir, not that interested."

Volke drops a bowl on Arc's face. "What are you saying?" He hisses at the man.

Arc's next words were muffled by the bowl. "Exactly what it sounds like." he shoves the bowl off his face. "Sorry, sir, but I'm not interested in being a state alchemist." for a second he looked like he was scrambling for an excuse under the Führer's eye. "Besides, it would hardly be fair if you initiated me... the exams are half the year away, sir."

Bradley nods. "That is true..." He seems to be thinking. "Then it's settled! Colonel, I'll leave you in charge of Mr. Shaon."

Volke sits up in an attention position. "Sir?"

"When the time comes, I will ask you again, Arc." The Führer states, smiling lightly. "Until then, I'd ask if you spend time with Colonel Mikawa."

Arc blinks at him. His expression would not have changed if someone had slapped him with a fish. "Say what now? confused, sir."

Volke steps on Arc's face, smiling nervously at the Führer. "U-Understood, sir!" He says, saluting awkwardly. Volke shoves Arc back under the bed. Arc gives a muffled yelp about his nose.

Bradley frowns lightly, but only for a second. "Very well. I'll make arrangements for Mr. Shaon to have a living allowance paid into your account, Colonel." Bradley stands, causing Volke to salute again. Armstrong salutes as well. Arc stays under the bed. The Führer leaves the room.

Volke relaxes and then pulls Arc from under the bed. "You do realise who that was, right?" He growls.

"the leader of the country." Arc says, smiling. He's working on the shark-like bit. "By the way, I found 50 cenz."

Volke sighs. "You could've shown a little respect, then. The King was offering you a chance to become a State Alchemist. Not many people have that honour."

"I don't want to be someone's pet." Arc says sourly. the metal curling on his shoulders shifts and then runs through his hair. he doesn't seem to notice.

Volke's expression darkens. "Despite public opinion, we are not dogs." He mumbles.

"You're right." Arc says, and smiles. "I've seen them treated better."

Within a second, Volke's hand is on Arc's collar. "Why you...!"

Maj. Armstrong attempts to pull the two apart, most likely succeeding. "Forgive my intrusion, sir. But this is hardly the place to fight!" Which is a good thing, because the metal coils under Arc's shirt were moving freely in the air about his head.

"Right.. right..." Arc drops his smile. "So, how's this supposed to work?"

"I'll have to get my hands on a two-bedroomed place. Which is hard in Central... Maybe if we move to East City or somewhere..." Volke seems eager to change the subject from the 'dogs of the military' argument.

"Couches aren't objectionable." Arc says, shifting away from Armstrong, who watches the two of them carefully, and silently. the metal coils about his shoulders again and more or less goes dormant.

"Well, if that's the case, I can stay in my old place..." He looks to Arc. "If you really don't mind the sofa?"

"If I have a blanket, and a pillow, and no leak dripping on me, it'd be more than fine." Arc stretches a little. His arms don't go all the way one would expect them too.

Armstrong blinks. "Are you injured, Mr. Shaon?"

Volke blinks. "Wait...No. I don't think he's..." Volke takes note of the metal coiling around the man's upper arm. "It's the metal, right?"

"Three points." Arc makes a little crowd cheering noise, smirking. "Yes. Forgive me if I have no intention of showing you the rest of it." Volke has a rather pissed off look on his face at the sarcastic tone Arc is assuming.

As does Volke's. "No, no. That's fine, Major. I'm sure Führer meant for me to begin my duty after I recover." Arc mutters something about hospital beds really not being his type, and he manages to start Armstrong on his way out the door.

"Right. Well, I'll meet you at the hotel we met each other in, then. Doctors said I should be out tomorrow at the earliest."

"Right..." Arc looks like he's mental mapping.

"Do not worry, Mr. Shaon, I shall escort you there!" Armstrong gets a grip on Arc's arm, and the man is pulled from the room.