Tucker x Archer forever. XD Mwa ha ha ha ha ha. I think "Such is the Life of a Slut" is finally messing with my head. It makes me want to write crack pairings.

But anyway, I like this chapter. It has lots of Tucker and jealous Kimblee. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 7

"Going to kill him."

Tucker looked up from the watch he was modifying when Kimblee started to mumble louder from his seat at the work table. The man was clenching and unclenching his fists sporadically and Tucker looked around him to see if there was anything in his immediate vicinity that needed to be saved. Seeing nothing, Tucker ventured into conversation with his quiet voice. "Who?"

"Mustang!" Kimblee snarled and slammed his palms together; fingers intertwining with each other tightly. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down; rested his forehead on his fingers. If he made the lab go boom again, Archer was going to get angry. More angry. Okay, so Kimblee really screwed things up that morning. But it wasn't his fault! "The bastard. I can't wait until I can get him alone and I'm going to..."

Tucker turned back to Kimblee's State Alchemist watch and tuned out the creative death threats that were spewing from the man's mouth behind his human chest. After inserting the red stones into the watch and reattaching the cover, Tucker held it up for inspection. If that didn't amplify alchemy, Tucker wasn't sure what else would. He was lucky Archer had given him the supplies to make more red stones. A steady eye looked over at the crazed man at the table as he continued to mumble and pound the table. Tucker decided to give Kimblee his watch later when there was less of a chance of Central exploding.

Archer entered the laboratory with a frown on his face and took a deep breath as the door shut behind him. Archer looked around the room to see chimera growling and fighting with each other to the left. Good. Tucker fiddling with the alchemist watches in the last minute project Archer had assigned him to the rear of the room. Also good. And finally, Kimblee muttering death threats while randomly hitting the desk with his fists. Not so good. "Kimblee, get yourself together. I have a job for you."

"What?" The Crimson Alchemist looked up and kept himself from jumping. He hadn't even noticed Archer arrive. Those blue eyes were staring at him and Kimblee shook his head to gather his thoughts. "What job?"

"One you'll be good at." Archer smirked and walked over to rap his knuckles on the tabletop. From under his arm he pulled out a folder and set it before the alchemist; fingers sprawled on the cover. "There's a serial killer on the loose in central and I want you to take care of him. Discretely if possible."

Crimson watched each finger as they picked themselves up from the folder so that he could take it. Kimblee flipped open the booket to see a picture of a miserable man in his thirties. Behind his picture was a list of attacks and the most likely next target. And from what he could tell from the nickname, the man had a thing for cutting people open and having fun with their intestines. "Why me?"

"You said you were bored, didn't you?" Archer sat down in his personal chair (he was not sitting on those dirty lab stools again) next to the chimera cage and snapped his fingers. The beast closest to him stopped fussing with its cage mates and trotted over to be pet by Archer's thin fingers. The man smiled thoughtfully; Tucker had trained these animals quite well. "You have until the end of the week. Though get started tonight since there's a high chance he'll strike considering his pattern."

"I fail to see why I have to do your dirty work."

"You could stay here with Tucker all night."

"Your house would be better."

"Do the job, or I will drop you, Kimblee." Archer glared icily at the other man. Kimblee's usefulness was wearing thin and Archer was reaching his breaking point. This mornings fiasco was the straw that broke the camel's back. "So far you've done nothing to justify covering your ass. Either prove to me you can do this job or get the hell out of Central. Do I make myself clear?"

Kimblee's breathing was increasing slightly either from anger or fear. He wasn't quite sure which one was stronger than the other. It was a strange feeling to fear never seeing someone again while at the same time wanting to wring their necks until they stopped breathing. "It'll get done."

"See that it does." Archer scratched behind the chimera's ear and a sound that could have possibly been a purr came from its gut. If only Kimblee could be tamed so easily. The Crimson Alchemist was looking at him expectantly; waiting for Archer to say something else. The Lieutenant Colonel merely rose an eyebrow and looked at his watch to indicate the time wasted while the alchemist just stood there. With a huff, Kimblee stomped out the door and made sure to slam it as loud as possible. Archer had a feeling many more than his serial killer were going to die tonight.

"So what did he do?" Tucker chuckled as Archer visibly relaxed in the chair and crossed his legs. Tucker turned his eyes back to his work, but put away the watch. It was after hours; Archer said he could work on Nina when the work day was over. Though, Tucker didn't mind conversation while he worked. Not many people listened. "You two were getting along so well the other day."

"He was stalking me."

"Hmm?" Tucker's paws paused in their work. His ears flattened against his head in confusion. "Isn't that normal for him?"

"Where I could see him." Archer hissed and waved his free arm about. His other was still locked into the chimera's fur. It seemed to be the only calming thing in his life; a sin against nature. How wonderful. "Right in broad daylight! Anyone could have seen him."

"I see, I take it you were with Mustang then? As he's the only 'anyone' I think would matter right now."

"Yes, I was eating lunch with Colonel Mustang and Major Armstrong in the mess with our unit during the break. We were discussing some training strategies and I could see Kimblee plain as day in the mess standing directly behind Mustang. If the Colonel had turned so much as an inch he would have seen that mad man." Archer gripped his fist and the chimera yelped as its hair was pulled. The Lt. Colonel sighed and rubbed the spot that he had pulled in apology. "Then after lunch Kimblee got into my face the moment I was alone and started going on about some touching nonsense. I don't even know what he was talking about but he was hysterical."

Tucker nodded as the man continued on. His rants about Kimblee were starting to become as commonplace as Kimblee ranting about Colonel Mustang. Though, it was slightly more fun watching Archer grumble; it was a bit more out of his usual character. "Is that why you sent him out?"

"Partially." Archer rubbed his eyes and stopped petting the chimera. As soon as it was free, it started to tackle the others in the pen. Archer looked over at the much larger chimera and his upside down gaze and shrugged. "I also, just really wanted a night alone. He's invited himself over to my house every night this week. It's becoming far more than I can tolerate."

"And if he doesn't get better?"

"Than I'll have to get rid of him."

Tucker at the man and noted the dead serious tone. Adding in what he had observed from Kimblee, the chimera prayed no one was around when that keg ignited. "Best not let him hear you say that."

"Why?"

"Because he likes you."

Archer stared at his other alchemist; the useful one. "He what?"

"So what do you think, sir?" Armstrong asked over a cup of tea as he sat with Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye in the outside terrace at a local diner. Their training session with the new unit had just ended a short while ago and they were all enjoying break. Between Archer's strict regiment and running around with the young lads in their prime of youth, even Hawkeye had let Mustang get away with putting his paperwork off until tomorrow.

"I think that they're all good soldiers and they'll be fine." Mustang yawned over his own cup; though he wasn't drinking tea. Unlike his large friend and female right hand, he preferred something with a bit more kick.

"I actually meant about Archer, sir." Armstrong nodded. "What do you think about him?"

"Personally or professionally?"

"Professionally."

Mustang sat up straighter in his seat and sat his glass down on the table. "Honestly? I'm surprised at how efficient he is. I wasn't expecting that."

"Well, he does enjoy war, sir." Hawkeye added. She had tagged along for today's training session and it was obvious as it could get that the new head of Investigations was a bit trigger-happy. "It probably leads to knowledge on the subject."

"I know," Mustang sighed. "Still, he may be good but his enthusiasm worries me."

"I agree." Armstrong added and hummed. He really wished he could bring up the other things that Archer was doing, but the time wasn't right yet. Archer's love of war was the least of the military's worries when he had Zolf J. Kimblee and Shou Tucker tucked away. "At least the troops themselves haven't been too influenced."

"Yes, yes." Mustang ran a hand over his face and winced; he had forgotten he was wearing his gloves. Ignition cloth scratched. "Can we talk about something other than work for once?"

Hawkeye sipped at her own drink and almost rolled her eyes. There was only one thing Roy Mustang did when he wasn't at work. "We'd rather not hear about your dates, sir."

Armstrong chuckled heartily as his friend pouted. Mustang resembled a kicked puppy. "Yes, give us another subject and we'll chat about happier things."

Mustang rose an eyebrow and set his chin on the back of his hand. He did have one thing that had been bothering him. "Do any of you feel like you're being watched, recently?"

"How so?" Hawkeye noted the sober expression that washed over her Colonel's face. She straightened in her seat. "Is it something to be worried about?"

"I don't think so just yet." Mustang muttered. "I just feel like someone's glaring at me all day."

"That's highly possible considering how much people love you on base, sir." Hawkeye spoke before taking another sip of tea. Though, she did make note to start watching the Colonel's back while on base. She didn't want him to worry, but that didn't mean she'd let anything happen to him. "You're probably just stressed."

Mustang waved his arm dismissively and tried to smile. "I guess you're right. It's probably nothing."

"And no worries, sir! If all else fails you've got an Armstrong by your side. No threat will get past us. After all, we have a long line of family history in fending off unseen foes..."

Mustang looked to Hawkeye and shared a glance while Armstrong continued on his required family speech of the day. He had been doing so well keeping it in, too. Mustang looked down at his near empty glass and realized he didn't have enough to make things bearable. Hawkeye's glare told him seconds were out of the question. This was going to be a long afternoon.

Mustang touched him.

Mustang touched him.

Kimblee squatted outside on the steps of a short front porch. His target had been spotted in this area over three times now and he had a perchance for attacking people out alone. Regardless of uniform, physical type, or gender no less. Kimblee had let his hair down and ditched his uniform for some plain clothes just in case the man was wise up to avoiding the military. Hopefully Kimblee was an attractive enough a target in khaki slacks and a loose blue button up shirt; he really wanted to kill something. Because Mustang touched him.

Archer didn't even notice the contact; or if he did, Archer didn't care. Kimblee started to chew the nail on his thumb as he recalled that morning. Mustang was becoming more and more suspicious as the days went by with his talks with the Strong Arm and Kimblee knew he was out to get his own Lieutenant Colonel. Mustang wanted to make sure that Archer didn't go to war; which meant Kimblee didn't get to go with him. Archer was oblivious of course. and let himself be side by side the annoying alchemist. But Kimblee was watching; he saw. Mustang pat him on the shoulder and rubbed it after congratulating Archer for his good work.

Kimblee groaned into his chest and held his head. This infatuation with Archer was messing him up. He was already crazy; he really didn't need to go further down hill. The man rubbed his face until it started to sting and then stared out into the night. He had an infatuation with Archer. The war-freak, cold-blooded, ass-kissing, chimera loving Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer. After thinking about it for a week; the Crimson Alchemist had finally figured out what was going on with him and these random spouts of emotion without a doubt. Kimblee had a crush on Frank Archer.

And it was driving him out of his mind.

Kimblee could barely string two thoughts together at the rate he was going and he kept running in circles. He licked his lips together and leant back on his elbows on the stairs. Archer clearly did not feel the same way about Kimblee. The Mad Bomber could live with that; as long as Archer let him hang around he was okay. what he couldn't tolerate – was Archer being with anyone else. For any reason.

Jealousy was a bitch.

"Hey there, are you all alone?"

Kimblee looked up to the man who had addressed him and smiled sweetly while tilting his head. Things were finally looking up for him. At least Archer could be happy that his favorite alchemist could do a job promptly. Kimblee let the grin slide along his face and watched as the man's eyes widened. A killer always recognized another killer. "Why yes. It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Gutter. My name is Crimson, want to play?"