Covert Affairs

Chapter 11

Crimson and Gold


Solf Kimblee enjoyed his job most days. He loved the fact that he could blow people up and convince others that he was doing it for their safety and not just his own personal enjoyment. It amused him to no end that he was now a prize bachelor, celebrated alchemist and a shining example of what the Amestrian military had to offer. Maybe in some different world Roy Mustang would have had the privilege of those titles, but right here and now, it was the Crimson Alchemist who was on the pedestal.

He always thought he'd struggle with post Ishval employment, the mundane day to day operations of the world were just a nightmare of boredom in comparison to the exhilarating days and nights of battle. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised with how much damned fun he was having here in Central. It was more of a challenge to explode the human and not trigger the bomb they were wearing or carrying. The beauty was in the challenge as well as the sound and feel of the explosion. It was like being the conductor in an orchestra, only the best instruction would yield a most tantalizing sound and experience. A wrong move ended in an improper detonation and a most miserable sound of failure. It was actually honing his skills, an added bonus to the steady flow of terrorists who seemed to be filtering into Central these days.

Solf swiveled around on his lab stool and checked to see what the other techs were doing. Work, apparently. His colleagues in this lab were as interesting as pocket lint, but his anti-terrorism teammates next door could always be counted on for some source of amusement. Lt. Breda was smart, something he hid behind the sloppy and portly exterior, and Mustang handed him an absolute gem by ordering him to publicly 'date' Whitman. He could see Breda struggle with it, it was a crack he could pour some salt into whenever he needed to lower his defenses. He was the most fun to toy with because he was the biggest challenge when Mustang wasn't around. Havoc, the country bumpkin, bored him and Falman was like conversing with a technical manual. Fuery tried to crawl under a desk if he even looked at him. So unless he wanted to fight, snore or clean up piss those three were never worth engaging. They remained pawns and he would toy with them to draw Breda into the game. A nice mix of pleasure, entertainment and curiosity kept him grounded and being close to Mom again was by far the best part.

He finally got up from his desk and walked over to his workstation, deciding to get to work instead of daydream. Yes he liked his job, but inspecting luggage was another story. There was nothing he could do with this garbage except repackage someone's belongings and ship it back to them. He looked at the plaid baggage and cocked an eyebrow as he read the tag on it detailing how it had been confiscated. Frank Archer's suitcase was probably more boring than the man himself, if that was even possible. It looked like he stole it out of the History Museum, this style of baggage was tacky and probably prehistoric. He unzipped the thing and flopped it open on the table. Everything was neatly folded, in plastic baggies and labeled. There was a book on tactics, war commentary of a long dead General and a copy of that stupid bondage fanfic turned national bestseller, 50 Shades of Grey. More like 50 Shades of Grey Matter as a part of your brain dies with every word you read. Frank Archer seemed like he was as much fun as an animated corpse.

He looked around the lab to see if there was anything he could put in the suitcase to make it less mediocre. One of the lab techs was reading some Issac Asimov so he went over and stole the book to swap it out with the horrible romance book that had become popular. He hoped the written porno would convince Mr. Farley to finally quit his job as Solf was getting sick of his instant cappuccino powder he stocked the kitchen with. Then there was Mr. Harper's desk calendar that had inspiration quotes typed over photos of cats doing yoga, yes that was a winner too. Solf tossed the calendar in the suitcase and looked around for something else that he could add. He smiled as he saw a jar of pickles sitting over in the breakroom. He went over, slipped one nasty floppy cucumber into a plastic baggie and walked back to his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a pamphlet he picked up at the museum about Rasputin's penis and taped it to the baggie. He was saving that for a day when he could drop it in Breda's lunch bag, but Archer might appreciate the gesture more. Task complete, he zipped the case back up and threw it back on the cart for returns.

Annoyed that he had to take time out of his day with this nuisance he walked out of the lab and into the offices they considered their Anti-Terrorism Headquarters. He was bored anyhow, so he might as well go over to see what trouble he could stir up. He opened the door and heard someone groan in annoyance as they saw him. Damned Havoc. He slammed the door. "So why am I rifling through Colonel Archer's underwear?"

Havoc snorted and continued to work. "It's really not even a challenge to mock you for that."

"Hide your jealousy Havoc." Kimblee grumbled and noted that Breda was not even listening. He was focused on a sandwich on his desk. Go figure. "Why is your girlfriend pissing off Archer? Is she after his job?"

Breda shook his head and sat down at his desk. "You missed the meeting, Archer's taken over West City branch."

"What meeting?" Solf put his hands in his pockets and looked around at them all. Zane was doodling equations on the chalkboard and in his own little world. "Major Whitman, what meeting?"

"Huh?" Zane looked up and stared at Kimblee. Breda and Havoc seemed to be ignoring him, as always. He knew he was only addressing him by rank so he felt obligated to treat him as a superior and answer. "What meeting?"

Solf heard Havoc giggle. "Never mind."

"We already had the meeting." Zane shrugged it off. "Ask Mustang if you need to know what your task is."

Breda smiled and tore into the sandwich sitting on the desk waiting for him. There was love for you, a woman who would phone order a sub and have it delivered from your favorite deli. He sat down and unwrapped the sandwich and was excited to see it was a rueben. He grinned and noticed something written on the wax paper the sandwich was wrapped in. He frowned and read it aloud, "Wicked Witch of the West has been ensnared."

Kimblee lit up. "I told you all that that wasn't just a kid's book!"

"Then what is it, Lt. Colonel? What exactly is your favorite play if not a story about a girl lost in a magical world looking to get back home?" Breda grumbled. He knew Haley was just using Kimblee as a resource, but it annoyed the hell out of him that they now had some secret code thanks to their fake dates. All alchemists had some kind of way of encrypting their work, he just wished Kimblee's wasn't based on his fake relationship with his own girlfriend. The bastard even had a little back book he kept of their escapades, exaggerated and fake as hell, but the rest of the world thought it was true. Especially when he left it on his desk in the lab every time he came over here. Kimblee Kama Sutra was about as exciting as anything ever got in the lab and the techs were probably gossiping about it as they spoke. Bitter he smirked and added, "Strike a nerve does it? Maybe because there are girls' souls locked into porcelain dolls in your Mom's living room all wishing they could go home?"

"It's an allegory for the political movements of the turn of the century. Poor getting poorer, rich getting richer. People desperate for relief from a depression." Solf sat down on the corner of his desk and took the wax paper to see the words for himself. He ignored Breda's remarks, not wanting to blow the guy up for talking about his Mom. The smell of corned beef and Breda seemed like a way to ruin lunch. "Doesn't strike close to home for you, Breda, you never missed a meal in your life."

Havoc sat back in his chair. "No, if it's an allegory for the Populist movement than it does strike close to home for me."

"Just get that, scarecrow?" Kimblee stood up and threw the wax paper in Breda's face. He went over to the chalkboard and paused as he realized that Zane was still scribbling out equations oblivious to the debate he was trying to start. One glance at the board made him wonder what the hell Mustang had them working on. "Well leave it to the rich kid to think about destroying gold in his spare time."

Zane looked up from his book as he watched Kimblee erase his work. "Solf!"

Falman sat up straight and thought about Kimblee's rants. They could have something to do with Cornello, since he was the currently trying to revive the dead Populist movement. Perhaps by discussing this play he was obsessed with than they could determine what exactly they were looking for out East. It also could be the best way to get Kimblee interested in a trip to Reole to uncover information instead of plastering internal organs all over the buildings. "Colonel Kimblee, please tell us again what you have found in the Wizard of Oz."

Havoc looked over at the man. "Are you kidding?"

"No." Falman said. "I read that book to my kids at night. I want to know if there is some hidden agenda."

"Let's all remember who the farm boy is before you all start attacking a movement my parents were a part of." Havoc said and put out his cigarette, " You have no idea what my family had to go through when crops failed and they were already so far in debt to the railroad and banks for having to transport the crops to market. Even in good years they barely made a profit with the ridiculously high rates they had to pay to have the railroad take the grain to market."

Zane looked up. He felt everyone look to him. "I know that my family's control over the railroad contributed to the depression that swept across the farms of this country, that's one of the reasons my sister and I bought Amestris Rail. We are trying to break apart the trusts that dominate the industry and provide a more reasonable way to move crops..."

"Too late." Havoc snorted. "We already lost the farm. That's why my parents operate a General Store now."

"I'm sorry." Zane said. He hated that this was one of his families legacies. "We're trying to change things. We're trying to break Central Rail's unchallenged hold on this country's transportation system. We're not competitive enough yet, it may be years before we can finally destroy the monopoly that they have on the railroad."

Breda could see Kimblee's satisfied smirk and could see where this was going. "I don't see why this is relevant."

"It's relevant." Falman assured him. "If Cornello is indeed trying to rally the people of the East for a political movement or a march on Central than I think this might be pertinent."

"Relevant to something that happened last century?" Havoc asked. "A political movement that died a decade ago?"

Fuery stopped what he was doing and watched the other men in the room. Breda's eyes shifted between Kimblee, who was smiling like he got away with something, and Havoc who was growing more agitated as time went on and smoking faster. Zane looked just defeated even though none of this was his doing. He was interested, he really didn't remember much about the time period as it was more of a current event in school than history.

Breda sighed and put his sandwich down. There was no avoiding this now. Kimblee had stirred up a hornets nest. "We need to put the past behind us and focus on what is relevant now. When we are not preparing for an imminent terrorist attack, you can revive this debate and have at each other. However, right here and now, our question is about who would want to put the gold reserves of Amestris in jeopardy. Cornello is trying to revive the old 'Free Silver' cause and rally his followers around it so he would have the most to gain."

"What is the 'Free Silver' movement?" Fuery asked meekly.

"The rallying cry is that if we use silver as currency we remove the power the wealthy have because of gold." Breda replied. "More silver means that more people will have it, not just those who have horded a limited resource."

Havoc finally calmed down as he crushed his cigarette and lit a new one. If he was smoking them in succession it meant he was getting worked up. He knew better than to let Kimblee have that kind of power in the room. "It was important because there was an imbalance in everything. High costs, low pay. More people than there used to be, less money to go around. More jobs because of the industrial revolution, but you worked long hours and had more expenses in a city. There was no winning because all the profits went to the rich. So it sounded like a good deal to change things. You couldn't be rich if what you held as wealth was no longer valuable as currency."

"It doesn't work." Zane said quietly. "It's a theory that just doesn't work out the way you're being told it will. Silver won't be handed out, you still have to earn it and it is worth less than gold. 16 ounces to one ounce of gold. Someone is always hording something and it's usually the person pushing to make the change. You still need to get your crops to market, so when you come to pay with silver...they'll ask for more of it. Then the rich have your silver and their gold. It's not a fix for the economy."

Kimblee grinned as they finally made their way around to what he was hoping they would. "But you can thank his parents and the other Amestrian elite for starting the Ishval War and re-stimulating the economy. Right Zane? Best way to end an economic depression is to go to war! Sudden surge in military jobs, industry to produce weapons and the army buys tons of supplies to function. War is a wonderful little solution to a ton of problems."

Breda contemplated shooting him. He hated that man. He was clearly bored if he was over here and one of his past times was pointing out everyone's differences. Social standings, backgrounds.. whatever he could use to drive a wedge into and use to instigate something. Now apparently he was going to pit the farmer boy against the rich kid which was going to put him, Mr. Middle class and the one person who linked the two of them, in the middle. Kimblee was such a bastard. "Kimblee..."

"But back to the book of the month." Kimblee erased the board and scribbled out a tornado. "Here is the tornado, the populist cyclone that swept across the country and dropped little picture perfect Dorothy into the magical land of politics, technicolor ponies and midgets. Now, the yellow brick road is gold, her slippers in the book were silver...the Emerald City is clearly Central with our lovely greenbacks being Cenz. Gold, Silver, green. Money Money money."

"What about the characters?" Falman asked as everyone pretended to not be as interested as they really were in his lecture. With Kimblee you just had to make sure that his statements made you think about what you wanted to instead of down the path he was tricking you into.

"It's just a childrens book!" Breda snapped in an attempt to remind them all that this was not a history lesson or political debate. It was Kimblee dropping a conversational bomb to see what everyone did when hit by shrapnel. "We should ship you to Creta as a inspiration speaker. They'd destroy themselves."

"You're just jealous that your girlfriend and I have a secret code now." Kimblee smirked. "Our protagonist Dorothy's house gets dropped on the Wicked witch of the East. That's East City who has control over the farms of the East and the Ishvalians. The house, being the Ishval War. The trigger needed to start a whole adventure and rile up the nation. East City, where all the railroads rolled through, carrying crops. Where the banks held gold and refused to exchange for silver. East City, one evil bitch trying to keep everyone down! Enslaving the little people...munchkins...like that Elric kid. Unregulated Capitalism destroying lives, leaving the rural people behind as Amestris pushed forth into an industrial era!"

Fuery's eyeballs grew wide as Kimblee's rant made him wonder if the play was even half as good. He was pretty dramatic when he wanted to be and as much as he didn't want to be entranced by it, he couldn't help himself.

"I hope Ed kicks your ass for that." Breda snorted. "Who here wants to place bets on a Crimson vs. Fullmetal fight?"

"He blows people up." Fuery said with a look of horror. "He doesn't like losing and Ed's only a kid."

"Shut up Breda. Stop trying to derail my lecture." Kimblee threw the chalk at him and watched it land in his coffee, splashing brown beverage all over his blueprints and maps. "Next we have the Good witch of the North..."

"Olivier Armstrong." Zane said quietly. Recalling seeing her the previous morning. "Or Briggs."

"And our new character, Archer is the Wicked Witch of the West. There's a good witch of the South but not sure who that is now. Mustang's probably Dorothy with his miniskirt, silly dog and dumb ideals." Kimblee nodded. "Yes, that works."

"Isn't Catherine Armstrong playing Dorothy?" Fuery asked. He had a crush on the talented beauty.

Kimblee narrowed his eyes at the goofy kid and watched him hunker down behind his radio. "No. It's funnier my way."

"What the hell are we talking about?" Havoc mumbled. "I have to leave for West City tomorrow. How the hell is this stupid fairy tale going to help me?"

"Because someone wrote it. It's a riddle...it's an encrypted message." Kimblee said and continued to jot down names on the board. "It's a way to try to educate the masses by distributing a political piece in the form of a simple childrens book and a play adaption that everyone is going to see. It's a way to make people think. All these damned sheepeople need to start thinking."

Zane tapped his pen on the notepad. "So we have countries out to destroy us and some mythical hero instructing them how to do it, in addition to some writer trying to use popular fiction as a way to convey a truth about today's society?"

"Shhhh!" Kimblee continued to write. He had his audience captivated so now it was time to sell it. "The Scarecrow is the farmers, Tinman the industry and the cowardly lion..."

"Cornello." Falman said in an attempt to bait Kimblee into an interest in the mission to Reole. "A great roar...someone who uses his voice to intimidate. Hiding behind religion to manipulate the masses to mobilize for his cause."

"Who the hell is this Cornello?" Kimblee threw down the chalk. "Why the hell don't I get to come to meetings?"

"Everyone hates you." Havoc said simply.

"So?" Solf put his hands in his pant pockets. "Someone has to be here to disrupt your hero worship of Mustang."

"Father Cornello is reviving the populist movement amongst his followers. They worship the Sun God Leto and Cornello performs miracles and preaches to his followers daily." Falman rattled off the information and watched Kimblee digest it.

"Then who is the wizard of OZ?" Zane asked as he looked at the names on the board. He was really going to have to go see this play.

""You mean the deceptive bastard who is a manipulative politician? The man who is all hot air and give you nothing unless you do something for him? A man who hides behind smoke and mirrors and acts all powerful but changes his face for each person he meets?" Kimblee asked.

"Bradley." Breda said.

Kimblee looked over at Falman who was the only one not scowling at him. "So, who is the Cornello and is anyone going to miss him if I turn him inside out? I hate people who use religion as a way to spread their own personal propaganda."

"So what's next month's book of the month?" Breda leaned back in his chair and watched Kimblee steal Zane's notebook. He was never going to be able to figure out Kimblee. He seemed to randomly adopt morals and clearly wasn't a sociopath like they thought. Haley was rather adamant about how much the man clearly adored his mother and it was obvious his temper flared when he mentioned those dolls. Right now, however, he wanted him to leave so he could try to put out the fires he started.

"Animal Farm...maybe The Inferno. Seven deadly sins, that one sounds like a winner. I could play with that for a long time." Kimblee's eyes searched the sketches and equations on the other alchemists tablet as Zane tried to grab it back. "Can we talk about why you're planning to play chemist with a gold brick?"

"It's research!" Zane snapped and finally gave up trying. He let the bracelet with his array fall down to his palm on his left hand and slid the chain over his hand to fix it in place.

"Why?" Kimblee notice he was toying with his bracelets and threw the notebook in the guy's face.

"Gold is a great conductor of electricity." Zane held up his bracelet and tried to sound convincing. "It's part of my re-certification research."

"Refining it? Destroying it?" Kimblee asked. " What the hell are you working on? Why don't I get to come to the meetings? "

"You only care about your own amusement!" Zane hated the tension the other alchemist was planning to leave in the room, it was counter-productive and Solf knew exactly what he was doing. "Some of us actually give a damn about this team, our commander and our country. You're not helping anyone with your little philosophical chats. Nobody. Yes, life is unfair. Yes, class and sex and race are factors when they shouldn't be, however you're not changing anything. You're just aggravating already existing wounds and taking up our time!"

"I don't care about your cause. Sorry" Kimblee shrugged. "Maybe if I was invited to meetings I might let the Magnificent Mustang try his hand at convincing me to support his, or your, goals."

"Progress can not be made if you dwell in the past. You want people to think then you should be prepared with solutions instead of accusations." Zane spat.

Kimblee cocked an eyebrow and held up his hands. "Ok, I'll go to see this Cornello guy and provide him with a solution to his problem of lying to his followers. Clearly if he's using God as a reason why this country should use Silver instead of Gold than he's got his own hidden agendas. "

"By blowing him up?" Zane huffed. "Where does that leave his followers?"

"Without a false prophet."

"It leaves them lost." Zane narrowed his eyes at him. The same place this country will be without the gold reserves in the bank. Probably the best place for Kimblee was away from Central since all he was was a distraction.

"Sheepeople without a shepard might actually start to think about something for themselves." Kimblee smirked. "Or just flock to a new cause so they don't have to think."

"Aggravating asshole." Breda snorted. "Why don't you get back to work checking luggage, fan mail and the Central Times Bestseller list? We all have a lot of work to do."

"Don't shoot the messenger." Kimblee snorted. "Or order around your superior, Lt. Breda. But by all means, go find the person who wrote this book and ask him what he knows. Someone out there is sending a message and is waiting for someone to pay attention. If anyone gets their noses out of that 50 Shades of Vomit book long enough to realize this isn't just a fairy tale he's telling."

Havoc lit another cigarette as Kimblee sauntered back out to his lab. "Never a dull moment with him around is there?"

Breda looked at his sandwich then sighed. Dammit. "Alright Falman, who is this Cornello guy and should we be considering him as a threat?"

Falman finished writing his notes down for Mustang. "I think we have reason to worry about him. Worth investigating. Not my call."

Breda wrapped up his sandwich. "Havoc, let's go check out these maps firsthand so I can have a working theory on how to rob the bank by the end of the day. I am concerned that the sewer system might be an access point, especially with bodies turning up recently down there. There is a sewer tunnel that runs under the bank and I want to know how compromised that building is because of it."

"You're going to the bank?" Zane asked. "Can I come?"

"Why?" Havoc asked.

"I need a gold brick. For an experiment." Zane replied cautiously.

"You know what my people consider gold?" Havoc asked. "Corn, soy...wheat."

Breda rubbed his eyes. "Enough you two. Don't let Kimblee stir up shit between you two, understand? You're both better than this. Don't fall prey to one of his damned games."

Fuery was glad he remained invisible most of the time. "What's Colonel Kimblee trying to do?"

Breda sat back and wished he could enjoy his sandwich but now his stomach was telling him to forgo lunch. "He delights in pointing out social differences that are sore spots for a lot of people. He's baiting you both and you should be ashamed of yourself for letting him have that much amusement at your expense."

Havoc took a drag on his cigarette. "The guy doesn't fabricate anything though, he just instigates. So there probably is something to his Wizard of Oz fascination. Maybe we should go see a play for a class trip."

"I'll get us tickets." Zane said quietly and looked at his notes. "We should look at every lead we have."

"Right now, we're going to the bank." Breda wrapped up his sandwich and hoped he could eat it in the car. It was going to be a damned long day.

"By the way, nice way to just casually drop the fact that we suspect his Mom is a serial killer." Zane mumbled.

Breda glared at him. "By the way, nice job of broadcasting your gold research by scribbling it all over the damned chalkboard."

"I think better when I can use chalk and..." Zane sighed. "Sorry. I'm worried that if they attackers are going to try and destroy or change the gold in order to move it, they will use Aqua Regia. It's not that the gold will be destroyed, because we can reconstitute it, it's that the chemicals needed will be very toxic. It's the perfect way to get away with the theft, the nitro-hydrochloric acid is very corrosive and toxic. It reacts violently with a high number of elements, metals...objects. If they were to release this in that bank, the damage to people and property would be a distraction and also cover up their tracks."

"Damage like?" Breda asked, trying to lead him into the answer they were waiting on.

"Death." Zane said simply. "Burns. Fumes will be the worst, but the reaction to water will generate heat and more fumes. If it gets into the sewer system, the water and chemicals there will be...a problem."

"This day keeps getting better and better." Havoc reached for his unopened pack of cigarettes. He figured he was going to need it.

"Like Mustang said earlier, it could be just the threat of the gold being destroyed that causes the chaos they want." Breda said and tried to keep them from concentrating on one sole method. "We don't know anything about this attack. We don't know who is going to initiate it, or when. This guessing is doing nothing. Right now reconnaissance is the key. We must know our field of battle and hope more answers present themselves."

"Fair enough." Havoc stood and watched Zane pack up his notes to take with him. "Gold, if you can't destroy it then you shouldn't be able to create it...right? If that's the case, why the hell is one of the laws of alchemy that you can't create Gold?"

"Making gold from lead has been a quest for alchemist for ages. Losing three protons is all it takes to turn one element into another. It's theory, but the amount of energy required to complete the transmutation would require something that amplified your alchemic ability. Hence the search for the philosopher's stone." Zane replied and cocked his head. "Why?"

Havoc tapped his cigarette box on his hand. "So can you make silver?"

Zane blinked. "Giolio Commanche can. He's the Silver Alchemist. He can draw the elements out of the ground to make weapons with."

"So Dorothy's Silver slippers are really that old peg legged bigot? Well that's creepy to think of him able to look up her dress." Breda shook his head. "I'd be more inclined to believe the ruby slippers in the play are the philosopher's stone."

Havoc groaned. "We need to stop doing this. What if this is just Kimblee having a laugh at our expense, trying to get us behind his damned conspiracy theories?"

"More leads than we currently have." Falman reminded him. "I will see if I can look into Commanche and find out if he has any monetary motive for this or not."


Riza was surprised when a knock interrupted her thoughts as Roy appeared at her office door. She had been lost in thought all morning and her first coffee cup was cold and untouched along with all the work she had stacked on her desk. She smiled at him as he held up Hayate and the pup put his little paws on the glass. Hayate's little nose pressed against the glass and soon his tongue was on it. She waved them in, knowing Roy was moments away from doing the same thing. He was in such a better mood this morning, and she wondered if it was from sharing his burden or because he finally got a puppy.

Roy entered and closed the door, then set Hayate down and reached for the blinds on the door and window. He had just dropped off Fullmetal at Rebecca's office, asking her to help the kid with his lack of ability to follow instructions. She wasn't very happy about it, but he left before she could say no. Now he was alone with Riza, Hayate and a...Hello Kitty stuffed animal on her desk. "Who is that from?"

Riza looked at the stupid stuffed toy Barry had bought for her. If she hadn't been staring at her desk blotter all morning thinking about what Roy had told her yesterday perhaps she would have had time to throw it out or give it to someone. She wasn't going to lie to him. "Barry gave it to me as an apology."

Roy stepped up to her desk and opened the card the little cat was holding. "This pussy is probably not as warm and exciting as yours. Always thinking of you, Barry."

Riza groaned. She didn't even look at that. "I think I might just kill him myself."

Roy considered pulling his gloves out and setting the note on fire but figured it would ruin the moment. Instead he dropped the stuffed animal to give Hayate something to chew on. He sat on the edge of her desk and gave her a smirk. "So clearly sexual harassment policies are a little lenient around here."

She stood and placed a kiss on his lips. "We're not having sex in my office."

"But I want to make a deposit." he said with a pout.

She laughed. She couldn't help it. "That's just wrong."

"You laughed." He pulled her back over into his arms and kissed her again. "Can I take you to lunch?"

She wanted to say she was really behind on her work, but she couldn't refuse him. She was so glad he was talking and sharing secrets with her again, she just wanted to go back to bed and hold him again and tell him it wasn't his fault. Having lunch with him sounded like a great way to make sure things didn't slide back into the horrible place they were at last week. "I'm not leaving Hayate in the car while we eat."

"I was thinking of getting something from the food truck and eating in the park." He grinned.

She should have known better than to doubt him. He always thought out his plans. "Sounds great."

Roy leaned forward to kiss her again but paused as he heard a gunshot from the bank lobby. He instinctively grabbed her and pulled her down behind her desk, a habit he apparently still retained from Ishval. Riza already had her hand under her desk and a gun drawn before he could realize she was armed. They both looked at each other as they lay on the ground and a shot from a shotgun hit her office window and shattered it. Hayate came scrambling around to their side of the desk as a voice carried throughout the building.

"This is a hold up! Nobody do anything stupid!"

Roy tugged on his gloves as Riza crouched behind her desk to see if she could see anything in the lobby. Her gun was drawn, safety already clicked off and the eyes of a Hawk focused on the threat. He sat up beside her, his own fingers poised to fire at a moments notice as well. So much for a well executed defense against the bank robbery. Then he heard it, that voice from outside the office. That somebody who was going to do something stupid.

"Stupid? You're the ones who picked a fight with the Fullmetal Alchemist!"


AN: Sorry for the long wait on an update. This chapter was being difficult. Sorry if it was a little dry, more action in the next chapter. I appreciate the reviews, favs and follows.