I decided to check and see if any of the possible future events in this fic will make some of you squeamish. Luckily, the majority of you seemed fine with it, and so I shall continue forward. Hope you enjoy this chapter while I'm away for two weeks!

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA, only the CMAI, and arguably Kimbley's childhood and the nursery rhymes herein. They're old enough to be in the public domain anyway.

Chapter Nine: In Which Things Get Rather Complicated


The first player's knight moves into position, striking the second player's pawn—another minor battle won.

"You know, there's something fun about taking prisoners," the first player comments, as the second player frowns.

"How so?"

The first player grins wickedly. "There's nothing quite like a pretty bargaining chip."

"You're sick."

"I'm simply fond of entertainment. It's you who needs the therapy session."

The pieces are moving.


"Envy?"

"Mm?"

"Why are you walking with me to school?"

"Because this is the easiest way." Envy laughed loudly, making Winry jump. "What, you thought I was going to drag you down an alleyway or something?"

"That's not funny," Winry replied sharply, glaring up at him. "It's happened to girls before. And I know that you're not—"

"Trustworthy?" Envy finished for her, his expression condescending. "Winry, whether or not I'm 'trustworthy' is completely up to you." He began to leap from one cobblestone to the other, whistling to himself as he went.

Winry followed him, trying to take her mind off how he still wasn't abiding by the dress code (Did he paint his pants on this morning?) and the way he managed to anger her like only one person in the world had…

She was so lost in her thoughts that she accidentally bumped into him. She stepped back, but Envy knelt down ever-so-slightly to her height. He grinned, his teeth almost too white.

"Oh, and Winry?"

Winry blinked, clutching the strap of her bag protectively. "Yes?"

"I come from a…refined upbringing." Envy stood to his full height and turned around, continuing on his way. "Oh, and we're late."

Winry whipped out her wrench and nailed him in the head, yet again.

Why the hell do I even bother taking you seriously? And why can't you stop speaking in half-answers, damn it?


The school day passed with it's usual dull routine.

Winry continued working on her automail project for her Advanced Metalwork class, received an Outstanding in her Medic 101 class (she was to be moved to Medic 2 sometime in the near future), and avoided Envy in the hallways like the plague.

"Congrats on your 'O'," Envy whispered as he passed her in the hallway. "You must be proud."

Winry called "Think you can do better?" as he waved casually at her without turning around.

He didn't answer.

"This is incredible! I've never seen something this descriptive on what life was like then! Well done, Mr. Envy!"

Winry watched as Envy gave a short bow to the thin, gangly Professor. "Thanks, Professor. It was very hard work. I'm glad you liked it."

There was a faint mocking undertone to his words, faint enough that only a few members of the class (Winry included) seemed to hear it.

The class applauded when Envy went back to his seat, his expression smug. Winry had the urge to hit him. Again.

She could feel his glee at her irritation from the very top of the lecture hall where he sat.


Roy nearly spat out his coffee in shock. "Envy played with your daughter?"

"Yep!" Hughes said cheerfully on the other end of the line. Roy could hear him wriggling in his seat in his usual giddy way. "You see? Alicia can make anyone nice!"

"He could have been pretending, you know," Roy said sternly, leaning back in his chair. "Who knows what he's done to families like yours in the past?"

"Roy." Hughes' voice suddenly turned serious. "I know he doesn't really care about me or my family. I know that. According to him, he hates all humans. But if he hates us—and if my daughter annoys him—why was he going out of his way to make my daughter and wife happy? Think about that for a second."

Roy huffed.

"Weird, isn't it?"

Roy scowled. "He's trying to gain our trust."

"Exactly. But the question is…what'll he do when he does have us wrapped around his finger? That's what I plan to find out."

"You mean…let him win?"

Hughes' laughter made the connection crackle. "Ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome before?"

Roy raised an eyebrow. His lips curled into a smirk. "You're a bastard, Hughes, you know that?"

"So is Envy. We make the perfect team. Speaking of, do you think Envy's plan will work?"

Roy shrugged. "Maybe he thinks it's worth a shot."


Kimbley sat in his cell, waiting for the mysterious Envy to arrive.

It had been a long time since he had waited impatiently for anyone. All throughout the day, he found his bare toes tapping impatiently, his humming growing increasingly agitated—even trying to brush his hair out of his eyes, attempting to blow the strands out of the way or shaking them aside. Had he been able to move his hands, he would have twiddled his thumbs.

He ate his meals with barely a passing thought—later he wouldn't even remember how he managed it, let alone if they tasted like anything in particular—and continued to wait—

impatiently.

Finally, at five in the evening, Kimbley became impatient enough that he began to run through what nursery rhymes he could remember as a child. Anything to keep his mind occupied.

A favorite of his was "For Want of a Nail"—mainly due to the carpenter who had lived next door as he was growing up. He was always banging away on something, driving the neighbors crazy. Kimbley would often run to the old carpenter's workshop and bellow:

For want of a nail the shoe was lost

For want of a shoe the horse was lost

For want of a horse the rider was lost

For want of a rider the battle was lost

For want of a battle the kingdom was lost

And all for a want of a horseshoe nail.

He would call out this rhyme at least three times before the carpenter would toss a horseshoe at him to keep him quiet.

Mr. and Mrs. Kimbley would often tell their little Zolf that "The man is just trying to work, so be a good boy and go play with the other children".

Little Zolf preferred collecting horseshoes and dropping them from the schoolhouse roof.

Kimbley was broken out of his fond reverie by a now-familiar voice singing out:

There was a crooked man and he walked a crooked mile

He found a crooked sixpence upon a crooked style

He bought a crooked cat, who caught a crooked mouse

And they all lived together in a little crooked house

"Well hello," Kimbley called, as Envy stepped out of the shadows. "It took you long enough."

"Sorry," Envy replied, crouching down in front of the bars. "I had an admirer."

"Did you?" Kimbley laughed and leaned forward. "Was the admirer pretty?"

"Oh, very…for a human." Envy cocked his head to one side. "You haven't seen anything pretty in a long time, have you?"

Kimbley shook his head, attempting to keep his face straight. "No. Even my fellow Arsenic and Old Lace impersonators aren't very attractive to me now."

"That's too bad." Envy sighed dramatically, his expression the picture of pity. "You've been missing out on a lot."

"Mm…" Kimbley's eyes flicked to the doorway and back to Envy. "Well, you're here to play messenger boy to Mustang, right?"

There was a soft, barely-audible rustle of cloth from outside the door.

Uh-oh. Looks like we have a voyeur.

Envy didn't seem to notice, but then again, who could be sure?

"Yes." Envy leaned forward. "So, what's the verdict, Mr. Red Lotus?"

Kimbley grinned. "I'll play along. Do you think they'll let us work together?"

"We have to gain their trust first. Chances are they'll have figured it out by now." Envy shrugged. "Until then, I'll just have to pretend to be an annoying, centuries-old Homunculus trickster who's too attractive for humanity to handle."

Kimbley laughed. "Sounds like that's a favorite role of yours."

Envy laughed in return. "It's half of who I am." He put his hands on his hips. "And it's the one that confuses people the most."

"Not me," Kimbley replied.

Kimbley smiled as Envy said smoothly "Hold that thought" and in a flash was by the door, leaning against the doorframe.

"Hello, Winry. Are you enjoying our little chat?" Envy asked, all-but-dragging a young blonde-haired girl into view. "Though from where you were sitting, you probably weren't hearing so much as seeing."

The girl struggled, but Envy let her go, instead choosing to stand behind her.

She tried to go left, but Envy followed her.

She tried going right, and Envy was still one step ahead of her.

I wish I had some wine, Kimbley thought. This looks very interesting.

Eventually, the girl simply turned around and took a wrench of all things out of the tool bag slung over her shoulder. She slammed Envy in the head with it, then his shoulder, and then—

Kimbley winced. On second thought, maybe it's a good thing I'm behind bars.

The girl was intelligent—she didn't gloat, or look around, she simply bolted.

However, it only took a minute for Envy to have her again, this time holding her with her wrists behind her back. He dug through her tool bag—something the girl clearly protested—and found a medium-sized coil of rope. With a grin, he proceeded to tie back her wrists and feet in a complicated series of knots that unsurprisingly looked more like a work of art than anything else.

"There." Envy stepped to one side, letting Kimbley take in his work. "How is it, Mr. Red Lotus?"

Kimbley let his lips curl slightly in acknowledgement. "She looks frightened."

"Does she?" Envy asked in a babying tone, his expression mocking. "Well, that's too bad."

The girl stared at them both with a determined look, but obviously was still quite terrified. There was something familiar about her…something that nagged at Kimbley's memory. He couldn't quite place her, but…

The girl licked her lips nervously. "If you kill me, you'll be found out. You won't be able to gain anyone's trust."

Kimbley raised an eyebrow. "Are you concerned about us?"

The girl gave an unladylike snort. "You wish."

Envy knelt down beside her, his expression curious. "So…are you trying to save your own skin?"

The girl's smile was bitter. "There're still people out there I can help. I can't go dying now."

Kimbley was very impressed. "Envy, I think she might be better alive."

Envy grinned at him. "Exactly what I was thinking."

The girl's expression barely wavered.


The second player frowns as his next pawn is taken only seconds after he moves it.

The first player grins. "Uh-oh."

The pieces are moving.