Disclaimer - Kym Rooker and Izaak Havoc are my own characters. All others belong to Fullmetal Alchemist. AAAAAANNNNND adult content 'cause I feel like it. War is Hell and everyone seeks comfort one way or another. Don't hate me for what I'm about to do.
Six months later -
State Alchemist Kym Rooker checked over the recent damage to a Briggs tank, sighing heavily and dropping her arms to her sides at the damaged equipment. It was barely four in the morning and she was taking the chance to scan what they had leftover from the recent Drachma assault - their recent attempt to enter Amestris by force. What no one expected what the massive country had brought out catapult-like weapons during a very deadly fight the other day, taking out three tanks and killing the men inside one of the massive machines.
Climbing on top of the horribly destroyed vehicle, Rooker looked inside and flicked on her flashlight, scanning around what they could salvage to repair the other two. A glisten of dry blood flashed when the flashlight hit it and she backed away a little, her body and mind unable to take in anymore death and gore. Kym jumped down into the soft snow and quietly padded off the check on their remaining military horses, giving them a pat on the forehead as she passed by. On the edge of village of tents was their temporary graveyard for the dead, the snow keeping the bodies frozen until they could transport them home.
Hearing her men starting to shift restlessly in their sleep, the Major worked her way toward the Communications tent, hoping to get a chance to give a quick call before they started another day of death. "Karley?" She placed the flashlight down and felt around for the communications operator, hoping to not scare him half to death with her flashlight going off in his slightly tanned face. "Karley?"
The man groaned in his sleep and rolled over on his cot, trying to escape the tapping hand on his arm. "Go 'way."
"C'mon, man. Just for a second." She closed the tent flap and gently shook his arm. "Please. I need to do this."
Karley rolled over again and peered at his commanding officer with one violet eye. "Top or bottom?"
Kym playfully smacked him as he gave a deep chuckle. "If that was the case, I wouldn't come to you when it's so close to dawn."
"What do you need?" He finally asked, sitting up and scratching his dark head.
Rooker sighed in relief and motioned to the wireless radio. "I want to put a call to a small town in the west. Can you tap through for me, please?"
"I guess so." The Briggs communicator shuffled from his cot to the radio, settling the headset on his ruffled hair. "Who are you trying to get a hold of?"
Puffing out her cheeks slightly, Kym sat down on the barely comfortable floor and picked at a healing scrap on her hand. "I shouldn't be doing this, but I just want to hear my son."
Karley turned his head and saw the bitter sadness etched in her face. None of them had expected this issue with Drachma to last this long. None of them expected the surprises Drachma had in store for any of them. "Okay. Give me a second." Kym watched him turn on the radio and flip a few switches, turning nobs as he listened for a clear connection. She knew it was too early in the morning, but she also knew they were up very early to start their day. "Here you go."
Rooker took the headset and spoke to the operator to get connected, listening to the ring tone. A click told her someone had answered. "Mrs. Havoc?"
"I'll be damned! So good to hear from you, Kym!" The older woman sounded so excited to hear the mother of her grandchild. "My goodness. I never expected to hear from you, especially this early in the morning."
She smiled into the phone. "I'm so sorry for calling so early, but can I talk to Izaak?" The last time Kym saw her son he had been an infant. She was certain he was sitting up, starting to talk and eating solid foods by now. It broke her heart thinking about it.
"Of course! Let me go get him for one second." The phone was placed down and faint talking could be heard in the background. "Here we are. Izaak, it's your mommy."
Tears formed in the half Ishvalan's eyes as she listened to the baby babbling into the phone, imagining his small hands wrapped around the receiver and drool lightly dribbling down his chin. "Hi, baby boy." She felt a hand on her shoulder and quickly noticed Karley leaving his tent to give her privacy. "How is my Izaak doing? Keeping Grammy and Grampy Havoc out of trouble?"
The toddler squealed into the phone and Kym felt her heart starting to flutter. "I miss you, too."
*K*K*K*K*K*
"I know we're all exhausted and running low on ammo, but I'm proud of you all." After listening to Izaak babble for half an hour, Kym Rooker had to end the much needed phone call with a heavy heart. "Reinforcements are coming within the next day or two with ammo, weapons, food, medical needs and replacement parts for the two damaged tanks we can still use."
The remaining thousand men listened to their commanding officer talking, but they were all pretty beaten up. Riza Hawkeye, a bandage around her head, lowered her eyes sadly and her shoulders slumped. She had hoped to be home by now, just like everyone else. "What if they chuck those catapult things at us again?" Asked one soldier, one of his eyes covered by a patch. He had been of the few survivors from the assault on the three tanks.
Rooker nodded her head firmly, understanding the man's fear. "I'll take care of it. Division One is just about finished with their Drachma platoon and will be splitting up to offer help and replacements for those who are deceased or too wounded to fight. For now, get yourselves ready."
The men and women slowly left, hoisting their rifles over their shoulders as they walked off to prepare for another day. Kym pocketed her hands and softly headed toward her tent to find her winter military jacket. Even though the rest of the country was covered in green grass and blossoming flowers, the Briggs mountains remained freezing cold in many places. Wrapping her fingers around the fabric, the Major fell to her knees and hot tears from her eyes. I can't keep doing this. I want to go home. I want to see my boy. She let out a strained groan. I want to see Jean so bad.
Hoisting a duffle bag over his shoulder, Jean Havoc was ready to move out with the rest of the thousand-some soldiers of Major General Armstrong's division. Half of them were moving into the fourth division while the rest stayed behind to keep watch over Drachma's moves. Tucking a wrinkled photo of Kym and Izaak into his coat pocket and lighting a cigarette hanging from his lips, Havoc followed the mass of Briggs soldiers hiking off into the woods, Armstrong at the front.
"Got a little woman waiting for you?" Came a voice behind him, a white clad soldier carrying an identical duffle bag over his shoulder as well. "I cause a glimpse of it when you were putting it away, sir."
Jean smiled and paused in his steps, letting the man catch up with him. "Yes, I do. She's not a little woman, though." He pulled the photo out and showed it to the young man. "She's a Major here in Fort Briggs."
The soldier smiled and took a closer look. "Oh, yeah! I recognize her. Sorry if I'm not too familiar with Briggs faces. I'm not from around here and wanted to help after what happened in Central City two years ago."
"You saw what happened?"
He shook his dark head. "No, not really. I live outside of the city and saw everything from a distance and from listening to the radio." He hoisted his rifle further up his shoulder, changing his duffle bag to his other hand. "I believed what Colonel Mustang and Major General Armstrong was doing was right."
Laughing softly, Jean patted the kid's shoulder with a grin. "Colonel Mustang's not a Colonel anymore; he's a General now." He exhaled through his nostrils as the kid gawked. "Yeah, I know. Promoted twice in two years."
The two walked in silence as they followed other soldiers, their silence only interrupted by the crunch of the snow under their boots. Jean had learned the younger man's name was Reggie Huggins, the youngest son of six children to a factory-working father and a well known pie-making mother. Once the two started talking again by the mid-afternoon, Jean was left drooling as Reggie happily boasted about his mother's pies and was reminded of the wonderful deserts his own mother would make.
"What about your girl? Doesn't she make some good pies?" Reggie asked, looking up at the sharpshooter with his gentle and bright eyes.
Havoc chuckled and shook his head. "Kym tries, but I don't think she had enough practice before we met or she doesn't really want to." He casually shrugged as he lit a new cigarette. "Doesn't bother me since I love her for who she is."
His face fell as he thought about her and Huggins quickly took notice. "You okay, Havoc?"
"Just hoping she's okay. It's been six months and I haven't hear from her or anything pertaining to her." Jean bitterly bit down on the end of his cigarette and blinked away threatening tears. "This is longest we've ever been away from each other, too."
Reggie uncomfortably looked around, completely unsure of what to say to this. "I-I'm sorry about that."
"It's not your fault, kiddo. It's just something that happens." The smoker sighed heavily and patted the kid's shoulder.
*K*K*K*K*K*
Heavily sighing and dropping his rifle by the entrance of the tent, Second Lieutenant Henschel loosened the buttons of his military jacket. Thanks to a very thick snowstorm, both sides were not able to see each other and it turned into a hours of watching for any sneak attack. It was barely midnight when he decided it was time to switch shifts and they quietly shuffled to the safety of their tents. Just as he was loosening his military winter coat, the sound of something clinking behind the fabric barrier between him and Rooker's cot beds. "Major?"
Something inaudible reached his ears and he's blond brows creased in concern. Taking a few tentative steps, he pulled away the fabric wall aside and saw his commanding officer nursing a rather tall bottle of gin in the corner of the tent. Kym raised her dark head and gave a small hick. "Hey."
The broad shouldered Lieutenant sighed at the sight before him and hunched down in an attempt to remove the bottle from her grasp. "You've had enough, sir."
"No," she slurred, pulling the bottle from his hand. "No." The bottle dropped from her hands and clattered to the floor, spilling out. "Shit."
Henschel picked the tipped bottle up and placed it safely behind him, bending back down to her level. "Sir, why are you drinking?"
Kym waved her hand in front of her face, wrinkling her nose. "Emotions...drowning," she started, her head rolling to one side with a drunk smile on her lips. "I wanna go...home." A large hand reached out and rested on her shoulder, causing her to turn her head to the hand. Her lips brushed up against the pale wrist and Rooker went still. Red eyes looked up into the man's blue ones. "You wanna do me?"
The Second Lieutenant shook his head firmly, not believing what he heard her say. "No, I don't. We don't do that anymore, remember?" He watched the alchemist reach a hand out to touch his neck. He turned his head away, her fingers grazing his neck. "You're in a relationship, Major, and you have a son."
"I miss," she paused to give a few hicks. "Jean. Gods, I miss him." Taking a hold of the hand on her shoulder, Kym looked over the man's fingers and gave a sheepish smile. "I miss h-how he would...touch me." Rooker lifted her head and stared at Henschel's normally stern face. "D-Don't you miss touching me?"
Swallowing heavily, Henschel used his other hand to pry her fingers from his second. "You're drunk, sir." He slipped his hands under her arms and attempted to lift her to her feet. "You are not thinking clearly."
"Yes, I am," she firmly stated, her words slurred even more. "And I know I want this." Her hand reached down and her dark fingers firmly grasped at Henschel's groin, causing the man to grunt softly at the hold. The man fell back on his hands and tried to bat her hand away, failing when Kym pushed him back further onto his back. "I'm not going to take advantage of you, Major."
Kym wrinkled up her nose again and firmly rubbed the man's groin, smirking when he groaned. "Quit calling me 'sir' and 'M-Major'." She moved to straddle his waist, her hand still moving over him. "I want you. I want a release. I want to be t-touched."
"I have been touching you," he panted, failing to fight his resolve. Just like her, Henschel hadn't had any way of releasing the tension and stress building up inside of himself. Eyes slipping closed, he was gradually giving into her ministrations the more she stroked him. "Please, stop, Kym."
Her hand stopped and the blond gradually opened his eyes to see Kym's face hurt expression. "You're not touching me in the way I want to be," she explained, resting both hands on his chest. "I stopped like you wanted."
"Kym, I-I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, trying to ignoring the heated hardness between his legs. "I don't want to harm the relationship between you and Jean."
Rooker let of a soft sigh and lowered her head, her shoulders falling. "I can't take it a-anymore, Henschel." She lowered herself down until she was resting her head against his shoulder, still straddling him.
Quickly blinking for a moment, Henschel bit down on his bottom lip and raised a hand to brush a few loose strands from her face. "I'm sorry you can't." Her warm breath heated the palm of his hand and he swallowed heavily once more. The weight of her against him, the pounding of her heart against his chest and the sensation of her legs straddling him was making it difficult for the man to restrain himself. Turning his blond head, the Briggs Lieutenant glimpsed into her eyes and he nervously licked his lips. "Kym?"
"Yes?"
Keeping eye contact, he slowly ran his hands up the back of her thighs and listened to her hum in approval. "You like that?" Rooker gave him a small smile and leaned back against his hands, wanting to feel him even more. Gradually sitting up, she rested her hands on his chest and rocked her hips back, feeling his fingertips digging into her still clothed thighs. "I'm not going to take advantage of you, okay?"
"You're not," she whispered back, parting his military jacket with her hands. She observed his eyes slipping shut as her fingers slipped under his black shirt, touching his smooth skin. "Please? Just this once?"
"Yes," he sighed, unable to take it anymore. With a small push, he rolled them over and was pulled into a heated kiss, tasting the alcohol on Kym's lips. Moving at a quick pace, Henschel undid her belt and pulled her pants over her hips. With a flick of his other hand, her shirt and bra were lifted over the breasts that begged for him to touch. "There's no turning back after this point, Kym."
Rooker groaned and arched her back, unable to restrain her hips from bucking against his. "Shut up, 'schel." The back of her mind screamed for her to stop, but she couldn't stop herself as she worked open his belt and pants, reaching her hand in to grasp Henschel's hardened erection. The man stilled as she stroked him, his legs trembling when her thumb rubbed the tip of the head, smearing the clear precum. Kym's mind continued to scream as she licked her lips with anticipation.
Henschel held back a cry while her fingers played with him lower, his body starting to tremble and shudder as she worked him over. "Kym." Her hand stopped and he took his chance - hooking his hands under her legs and settling them on his shoulders, he slipped himself into her hot depths.
Kym tossed her head back once he was fully sheathed within her heat, not remembering Henschel's girth and width. "Fuck yes!" She gasped, digging her nails into his shoulders.
The voice in her head was still screaming.
Jean sat up in his sniper's nest, his mind keeping him up and an unsettling feeling in his chest making him paranoid. Moments before, he had been peacefully resting in his head against his duffle bag and a disturbing thought jolted him away. His eyes were heavy from exhaustion, but his mind kept reeling at what could have bothered him. God, what is wrong with me, he thought, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms.
They had arrived at the fourth division's mountain pass two hours before and had promptly decided to rest first and then get down to business at the first sight of sunlight. Jean needed rest first before the start of a new day, but his ass was going numb from sitting on the hard wooden base of the nest. Standing and quietly climbing down the rope ladder, Havoc retrieved a fresh cigarette from his breast pocket and lit it.
"Jean?" He spun around and saw Vato coming out from his dark tent. "Why are you up?"
Havoc shrugged his shoulders and scratched the back of his head. "I don't know. I was asleep, but something bothering woke me up." Two fingers removed the cigarette from between his lips and he exhaled. "I'm trying to calm down and clear my head."
"Ah." Vato straightened his winter coat and filled his canteen with lukewarm coffee. "Want crappy coffee?"
He raised a brow and shook his head. "uh, no, thanks." He inhaled another lungful of tobacco and exhaled through his nostrils. "What are you doing up, anyway?"
"I haven't slept since Drachma arrived," he explained, heading toward the front sandbags. "This is normally where I hide while others rest."
Jean nodded his head, barely listening to Vato speaking. His gut feeling was telling him something was wrong. "Where's your radio communications located?"
Vato straightened up from sorting out the sandbags. "The radio? It's located tucked between the trees a hundred meters from here."
"Okay. Mind if I leave you here for a moment to make a quick call?" He snuffed out the cigarette in a snowbank and stashed it away for later. Falman nodded his head and was left alone. Havoc quietly walked along through the tents and large military equipment until he came across a tent with a wooden plaque with a radio etched into it. Makes perfect sense.
Regrettably waking the radio communicator, Jean was left alone as he made a call to the second division. He didn't know why he was doing this, but he hoped it would settle his nerves. "Hi, Karley. It's Havoc of first division. Can I talk with a commanding officer, please?"
*K*K*K*K*K*
Henschel ran his fingers through Kym's disheveled dark hair and pressed a kiss to her temple as she slept next to him. The floor wasn't the most comfortable spot to rest, but it's where pair started, finished and crashed. When Rooker nuzzled closer against Henschel's bare chest, the man couldn't resist not smiling. "You're welcome," he whispered.
The alchemist sighed in her sleep and muttered, "Jean", against his skin and the second Lieutenant froze mid-hair stroking. "Izaak."
His face falling in sadness and sudden regret, Henschel knew he wouldn't be able to fill the hollowed emptiness that plagued Kym's soul. Jean and little Izaak were the only ones who could fill that void. "I'm also so very sorry," he whispered. "I should have known better than to fall for your drunken seductions."
A knock on the wooden frame of the tent grabbed his attention. "Yes?"
"It's Karley, sir. There's a phone call for the commanding officer. Is Major Rooker awake?"
When she didn't stir at her name, Henschel pulled the blanket further up her bare shoulders to keep her warm. "No, she's not." Henschel carefully stood up and walked over her body. "I'm coming instead."
"Yes, sir."
Henschel pulled his clothes on as quietly as he could and left the tent silently. "Who's calling, Karley?"
"Sharpshooter Havoc, sir."
A cold chill covering his body, Second Lieutenant Henschel couldn't believe the last person he wanted to hear from had called. "All right. I'll take the call privately."
"Yes, sir." Karley stayed out of the radio tent as Henschel took the call.
"This is Second Lieutenant Henschel. Want's this call about?"
A nervous intake of air is all he heard on the other end until, "I'm asking on behalf for Major General Armstrong of when Second Division will be making the move to transfer to Fourth Division's Mountain Pass."
Interesting cover-up there, Havoc. Henschel rattled around scheduling in his head for a moment. "It might be another six months or more. Drachma troops have catapults their using on us. Major Rooker has tried alchemy, but their forces are much stronger than we expected." What he had said was true - he wasn't going to lie about their current situation.
"Thank you, sir. If Major General Armstrong has more questions, I'll pass it on, sir."
"Very well." The older man thought about ending the call there, but his guilt for falling for his commanding officer's seductions was nagging at him. "Off the record, Havoc?"
The silence on the other end was unsettling for several long moments. "Yes?"
"Kym's all right, but she misses you greatly." And that was all he was going to say.
to be continued...
Bugger fucker, this chapter bothered the shit out of me. Couldn't get my thoughts organized, couldn't get words formed correctly...etc etc. Anyway, it's also Kym's fault for turning to someone for casual, meaningless drunk sex. That will be talked about later.
