A/N: Hey! I know, I know. I haven't updated in forever. I've been busy with school not to mention that I had a major writing block for this chapter. I ended up changing the direction of this chapter and in the end, I got this. I apologize for the ridiculous length. But Chapter 10 (which is in the works) will be shorter. Hopefully I won't take forever to post that. Anyway, thanks to thegriffin88, XXBlackfireXX, kawaii uchiha's, AnimeFreakSquee, and .Secerets for reviewing! You guys are awesome. :)

CHAPTER 9—The Benefits of Betting, or Lack Thereof:

Naminé had spent all Thursday morning hearing about an epic battle that would take place that afternoon. It wasn't until lunch that she realized who was involved in the fight. Roy Mustang and Zolf J. Kimblee. Flame vs. Crimson. She knew that Kimblee's assessment was coming up but she didn't understand why Roy wanted to be the opponent. But as she tried to finish her soup, the answer popped up in her friends' conversation.

"You know you have to win, right?" Romberg asked Kimblee.

"I know," Kimblee muttered. This wasn't the first time he had heard this speech before.

"I mean," Romberg went on, "if you lose, then you know Mustang's going to rub it in my face, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You don't want me to dress up like a girl, right?"

Isabelle laughed at the reminder. "And here I thought this was all about Naminé's date."

Naminé scooped up some soup in her spoon and blew on it to cool it down. "What about my date?" She looked at her friends expectantly, waiting for an answer. Isabelle, who was smiling to herself, looked away from her. Romberg cast his gaze downward. Kimblee suddenly decided now was the perfect moment to take a bite of his sandwich. The brunette frowned. "Why are you three acting so strange?"

Isabelle looked back at Naminé. "How would you feel if you knew there were people who don't believe you and Roy should date?"

The Lightning Alchemist blinked. "I'm not exactly following."

"What if Kimblee wins and you can't go on a date with Roy because of a certain bet? How would that make you feel?"

Naminé didn't reply. For Isabelle to even suggest something so preposterous, it was . . . She looked at the two men at their table. They wouldn't, they couldn't. No guy could be that stupid and selfish and inconsiderate and yet . . . Kimblee was inconsiderate. Romberg was selfish. I shouldn't be surprised, she thought, her blue eyes narrowing slightly. They can't even look me in the eye!

Romberg sighed. "It's not as bad as it seems. It's just a friendly bet between us guys. Even Mustang agreed to it." He was about to go on but stopped once he realized Naminé was still glaring daggers in his direction.

"Naminé," Isabelle said, catching the woman's expression. "Don't be upset. Romberg and Kimblee are just jealous."

Suddenly Kimblee laughed. "Jealous of what? That Mustang has a date with one of the most uptight women I've ever met?"

"I'm not uptight," Naminé stated, turning toward the alchemist.

"Are you sure about that, babe?" Kimblee asked with a smirk.

Naminé rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. "This whole bet thing is completely stupid," she said. "Couldn't you guys have found something else to do instead of trying to ruin my social life?"

"Because without Mustang, you don't have one, right?" Kimblee asked, raising his eyebrows.

Before she could respond, Roy came over to the table and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hello, Naminé." Naminé's face heated up, not entirely sure of what to say. Despite her feelings about the bet and the fact that he had agreed to it, she couldn't complain outright to him about it nonetheless reprimand him for his actions. Why was it so much easier to yell at Kimblee and Romberg, she did not know. Maybe it was because she saw no need to hide anything from them.

Naminé sighed. "Look, Roy," she said, removing his arm from her shoulders. "I know about the bet. I think it's---!"

"Stupid," Roy finished. "I know."

"What?" Naminé said, surprised at his words. "If you knew that, then why did you agree to the bet?"

"I was caught up in the moment," Roy replied. "I didn't want to miss my chance to impress you."

Kimblee raised an eyebrow, his golden eyes passing back and forth between Mustang and Naminé. He was waiting for her to slap the Flame or make some indication that she wanted to give him hell for agreeing to the bet. However, none of that happened. She seemed to be at a loss of words. "You're fucking kidding me," he said. Everyone looked at him, slightly bewildered at his words. "A few words from Mustang and you're instant putty in his hands." So much for the woman thinking on her own feet. He stood up. "Let me go before I gag."

Naminé sat there completely speechless as the Crimson Alchemist walked away from their table. After a moment or two, she turned around and got out of her seat, her blue eyes boring into his retreating back. "I'm not, you jerk!"

Kimblee stopped walked. He would have turned around just to see her expression but the tone of voice she used was enough to make him smirk. Of course, he still didn't feel any better about how much influence Roy had over her. What was up with women and pretty boys? "You know it's true, Thomson. If he told you to jump, you'd jump. If he told you to drop down on your knees and---!"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!"

As the two went back and forth, Isabelle sighed. She didn't see why the two of them were arguing in front of the whole cafeteria nonetheless their superior officers. She looked at Romberg. "Can you honestly believe them?" She asked them. "I thought they would have a little more self dignity than this and carry this on in private. Hopefully Roy will think the same too and he would reconsider dating her."

"I doubt it," Romberg said, his eyes not leaving Naminé. To him, he couldn't see any girl better than the one in front of him yelling her head off at his co-worker.

Naminé groaned. "You're such an idiot!"

"Name calling. How mature of you."

"Forget fighting Roy! We're fighting instead, same rules, same bet!"

Kimblee was stunned. He couldn't have heard right. "What?" He asked, slowly turning around to face the woman, his smirk gone.

"You heard me!"

"Naminé," Roy started. He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Think about what you're saying. I mean the battle assessment is pretty much set up and---!"

"I don't care," Naminé said, calming down a bit. "He can take me on instead. It's me that's on the line, not you. So I have a better incentive to kick his ass around a few good times. Well, Kimblee?" She said, her eyes on the Crimson Alchemist again. "It's a deal, right?"

Kimblee wasn't sure what to do. If he said no, it would appear to every man watching that he was scared of some chick that thought it was fine to yell at him. If he said yes, chances were he would get distracted during the fight. After all, this was Naminé, a girl he could now admit he was strangely attracted to for all the wrong reasons. But . . . "Sure, Thomson," he finally said, his smirk returning to grace his features. "Just to let you know, you're just going to get humiliated in front of everyone."

The Lightning Alchemist folded her arms. "We'll see about that."


It was three o'clock. Most of the military personnel were outside, sitting in the arena stands. Some were here to watch the match between the veteran and the rookie. Others were here just to avoid work and saw this as an excuse to get out of it. Whatever the reason, everyone was waiting for the assessment to start already. Romberg was probably the most anxious one.

"What if Kimblee loses?" He asked.

Isabelle sighed, regretting her decision to sit next to him. "I like Naminé and all but let's be honest. Kimblee will win even if it's only because he's more experienced."

"I don't think so," said another person.

Isabelle looked up and her green eyes lit up. She hardly noticed the groan from Romberg. There was Roy Mustang, standing right next to her. Immediately, she moved over to give the man some sitting room. He took up on the offer and sat down the next to the blond. The woman suddenly giggled. "Who am I kidding?" Isabelle said, moving closer to the man. "A date with you is definitely an incentive to win."

"Yeah, right," Romberg muttered before yelling, "Kick her ass, Kimblee!"

Kimblee stood in the middle of the arena with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He examined his opponent in front of him, trying to think of some amazing strategy to take her on. Why did he have to fight her? He would much rather fight Mustang and embarrass the man who thought he was some sort of king.

"Ready to lose, Kimblee?" Naminé asked.

Kimblee arched an eyebrow. Would it kill her to stop acting so damn cocky?

General Gran stood in the middle of the arena. He glared at each individual as if they were planning to do something wrong. "I want this to be a clean fight," he stated. He looked at the Crimson Alchemist. "I don't want any casualties either."

Kimblee smirked. "Got it, boss man.

"The match may begin!"

Kimblee watched Gran walk off the arena before looking at the woman in front of him. "Why don't we make things interesting?"

Naminé narrowed her eyes. "How?"

"Let's have a bet of our own."

"No."

Kimblee frowned. "What? Are you scared you're going to lose to me?"

Naminé gritted her teeth. "Fine," she finally said. "We'll have a bet but you'll be sorry when you lose. If I win, you'll have to do my share of the paperwork for a whole week."

"That's fine," Kimblee said. "I already pick up your slack anyway."

"And what do you want if you win?" She asked.

"A date."

Naminé blinked, feeling her face heat up. "W-what?"

Romberg nearly jumped out of his seat. "That bastard." Kimblee had told him that Naminé was all his and he had no interest in a woman he considered to be 'uptight'. It made no sense as to why he was now asking that same woman on a date. It was a complete one-eighty, one that Romberg shouldn't have believed to be so far below Kimblee.

"A date," Kimblee repeated. "You and me. Tomorrow night. If I win."

Naminé knew she had to be blushing. She couldn't recall a time where a guy asked her out in front of so many people. She wanted to say 'no, of course not' but that would make her look bad, wouldn't it? After all, she had already made her demand. "Fine," she said after a deep breath. "It's a deal." What am I getting myself into?

"Good. Now that that's settled." Kimblee's expression changed and suddenly he charged at her. Naminé's eyes widened. She was rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. Then she heard that distinct clap. She looked away and snapped her fingers. Clouds of dust rose into the air and Naminé almost went into a panic mode. She knew that Kimblee could be ruthless but she hadn't expected him to come at her so fast. A hand came through the dust and the woman ducked. What am I doing? I need to fight back. Now!

She clapped her hands and attempted to shock Kimblee in the chest. However he was a bit faster. He punched her in the stomach and then kicked her out of the dust cloud and into the sight of the spectators.

Still trying to find the wind that had been knocked out of her, Naminé didn't feel like getting up. Her side ached like hell and she was still in some shock that Kimblee had kicked her so hard. He had never been this rough with her during their sparring sessions. After what seemed like a painful eternity, she was able to breathe again and she tried to force herself. However, even as Kimblee took his time to reach her, she couldn't get anywhere.

"Get up, Naminé!" Romberg was yelling from his seat. "You have to win!"

Her blue eyes flashed toward the stands. Now he wanted Kimblee to lose?

The Crimson Alchemist clapped his hands and stooped down next to her. He tilted his head to the side. "You know, for someone who wanted to fight me so badly, babe, I was expecting a little more effort from you."

"What?" She muttered darkly. "No 'Thomson'?" A shiver ran down her spine when Kimblee placed his hand on the back of her jacket.

"Get up," he commanded, standing back up again. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm telling you this for your own good."

Back in the stands, Isabelle furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't get it. He's toying with her."

Romberg snorted. "Sure," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Because somewhere along the line, sucker punching someone in the stomach became toying."

Roy gritted his teeth. "Her jacket."

Isabelle looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"He clapped his hands, didn't he?"

"Kimblee would never," Isabelle whispered.

In the arena, Naminé shook her head in reply to Kimblee. She thought that she could hear people shouting her name but she ignored them and their yelling. Kimblee told her again to get up and she gave him a dirty look. He just wanted to knock her around a few more times. Why else did he want her back on her feet for? If I lose, I'll go on a date with that bastard, she thought. Wasn't that enough of an incentive to get up? Apparently not because she found the promise of pain a lot worse.

Kimblee looked away, smirking to himself. "You have ten more seconds before your jacket explodes."

Her heart almost stopped beating. Whether it was sudden rush of adrenaline or newly found resolve, the woman was quickly back onto her feet, struggling to get the jacket off her. In her head, each second that went by was her getting closer to death or a serious amount of pain. And for every second that went by, she was more anxious to get her jacket off. Finally yanking the material off her arm, she threw it away from her. A couple of seconds later, it exploded.

"That was uncalled for!" She yelled. I should have thrown it at him, she thought bitterly. It was unfortunate that the idea occurred to her after panic had run its course.

Kimblee grinned maniacally and clapped his hands. He charged and swiped at her. "Come on, babe! I know you can do better than this!" Naminé was backing away, dodging his hand every time it came. Kimblee kept coming after her relentlessly, not bothering to hold back. Suddenly the woman blocked his right arm with her left one and then snapped her fingers with her right hand. The Crimson Alchemist jumped back, the bolt of lightning striking where he had stood.

Seeing an opening, Naminé ran toward him and clapped her hands. She got down low and reached out for him. Kimblee took a few steps back to get out of her way and clapped his hands. Then he touched the ground, his eyes wide with excitement. The floor exploded and once more, Naminé found herself in a dust cloud. Her blue eyes darted around, trying to see some moving shadow. She heard a sound to her left and she snapped her fingers. There was no sound to indicate that she had got him and her muscles only tensed further. An explosion rocked to her right and she bit her lip as the dust cloud only got thicker. "Stop hiding!" She felt a hand on her shoulder and she was brought back against another body. She couldn't see his face but she knew his smirk was there.

"Who's hiding babe?"

Back in the stands, Romberg sat nervously in his seat. For his own personal reasons, he was worried that the Lightning Alchemist would lose this match. He hoped that she would win. Even if the result would be Mustang taking Naminé out on a date and him dressing up as a girl, that was a lot better than Kimblee taking Naminé out on a date. Kimblee was a bigger threat than Mustang. While Mustang would be gone after this week, Kimblee would be around to stay. To stay and work whatever magic he could on the girl Romberg wanted most.

"I can't see anything," Isabelle muttered, frowning. "You think it's over?"

"Maybe," Roy said. "I haven't heard anything since Kimblee's last attack." The Flame Alchemist glanced over at Romberg and almost smiled at his distress. Even he knew Naminé's chances of winning weren't so great at the moment. Kimblee was simply too much of a veteran at this and all of them knew that he could out-maneuver the woman without much thought. But if the Lightning Alchemist did manage to pull off a victory, then what an upset that would be.

"The smoke's clearing," Isabelle said enthusiastically. She now sat at the edge of her seat as she waited to see the result. Then the smoke was gone. The blonde smiled and looked over at a fuming Romberg. "That's a pretty compromising position, isn't it?"

"I am going to kill him."

Roy smirked. "Good luck with that."


Naminé couldn't see anything. Kimblee had his hand covering most of her face, forcing her to breathe through her mouth. This was an unpleasant situation for her. She could feel her chest moving up and down, her heart pounding away within. She could feel Kimblee's grip on her right wrist, holding it by the side of her head. She could feel his weight on the lower half of her body. She was pinned and she knew it. And now it dawned on her. She had lost not only this fight but the bets as well, that tomorrow night she would be going out with him. The woman heard heavy footfalls coming over to them and she was almost certain that they belonged to Colonel Gran.

"Good job, Crimson Alchemist," the colonel said. "You can learn many things from him, Thomson."

Naminé heard the man walked away and finally, Kimblee let go of her face. Her blue eyes fluttered opened and the woman glared at him. "You thought about blowing my face off, didn't you?"

Kimblee frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Right before you tackled me you clapped your hands together."

It took some time before he remembered what she was talking about. He smirked as he got off her. "Now why would I do that?" He asked, feigning innocence. "Since we are going on that date tomorrow, it helps if you look hot as hell, right? How else will I be able to get through a date with you?"

Naminé furrowed her eyebrows together, thoroughly confused by his words. She stood up and started to brush the dirt off her clothes. "That makes no sense," she said. "You asked me out on a date." Technically forced would be the right word to be used but she could care less about correcting herself. She wanted an explanation for his statement.

"I know," he said. "I asked you out to piss off Romberg . . . Wait . . . You thought that I asked you out because I actually . . ." Unable to finish his sentence, Kimblee turned around and laughed. "I had no idea you thought of me that way!"

"I don't!" Her cheeks were flushed with a bright shade of red but the woman didn't bother trying to hide. She just hoped that he wouldn't notice as he laughed away. She lowered her gaze. Was it wrong to wish for one decent guy to actually like you? Or even not be seen as some tool? She looked over at the stands and saw people clearing out except for three people who had made their way to the front seats and were now leaning over the short wall. Roy . . .


After what had felt like an eternity, it was finally nine o'clock. Naminé was happy that her shift was over for the day. The office was too thick with tension. Kimblee had been making the most ridiculous comments about tomorrow's date and she couldn't tell if the comments were intended for her or for Romberg. But even if they were intended for Romberg, they still bothered her. Kimblee was acting like he was the best thing to have ever happened. The woman had hoped that Isabelle would have offered some support, maybe even tell the Crimson Alchemist to shut up, but the blonde found some amusement from all this as she sat quietly in her seat. Maybe because she could date Roy now, Naminé thought bitterly as she quickly gathered her things.

"I'm leaving," she announced. Her three coworkers looked up.

"See you tomorrow, Naminé," Isabelle said with a smile.

"Bye, babe," Kimblee said with a smirk. "See you tomorrow night, right?"

"Bye," Romberg grumbled.

So eager to leave the room and glad about it too, Naminé briskly walked to the door and opened it. She slipped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. She closed her eyes and leaned against the door. "This is unbelievable," she muttered.

"You're telling me."

Naminé opened her eyes and was surprised to see Roy in front of her. She quickly averted her gaze. "Um, hi." She was certain that he was mad at her and if he wasn't, then she was equally certain that he believed that she had made a fool of herself today. That was why, instead of talking to him right after her match, she had taken off. Thinking about it now, it had been a silly thing to do. She should have known that they would have run into each other eventually. She sighed. "I'm sorry that I lost the bet," she finally said.

"Don't worry about it," Roy said. "It was just a date, right?"

She nodded eagerly. "Of course. I mean, we would have just went out for dinner."

"And probably have a good time."

"And you probably would have walked me home."

"And I would probably have kissed you good night." He caught the blush on her cheeks and the startled look on her face. Smiling, he looked away. "But like I said, it was just a date so no hard feelings, right?"

Naminé nodded, wanting to kill herself. She had risked probably the most romantic date of her life for what? A date with Kimblee? As if to prove her point, there was a sudden ruckus in the office she had just left and Isabelle shouting, "Calm down Romberg! It's not that big of a deal!" The woman frowned and took a second to listen. She could tell Roy was doing the same thing.

"He's only doing this to spite me!" Romberg yelled.

There was a laugh. "Don't worry – I'll take good care of her tomorrow night." Another laugh followed by a few interesting words of choice.

A light chuckle from Roy brought Naminé back to the hallway. She turned toward the Flame Alchemist, not sure of what to say. "Anyway," Roy said as he started to walk away. "I wish you the best of luck on your date tomorrow. See you around, Naminé."

"Yeah. You too." Naminé sighed and wondered to herself, Why me?