A/N: And we're back! My excuse is the holidays, writer's block, new fandoms popping up, and general disinterest- not necessarily in that order. BUT, we are returning to our regularly scheduled programming with a vengeance. Enjoy!

Warning: Violence and Ed's mouth.

Disclaimer: Not making a dime. Not one.

Chapter Ten

Three days.

Only three days and I'd found myself back where I started from, sitting at the bar, staring into my drink, the images and sensations experienced on my goose chase flooding my thoughts. After nearly three weeks of chasing the bastard over all of creation, I'd managed to find myself back where I started: Drowning my thoughts and burdens in the bottle.

A bitter tuft of laughter escaped my lips as I lifted the glass to my lips, taking a generous gulp of liquor and enjoying the way it blazed a path downward. Damn Mustang and his elaborate plans of mystery and intrigue, machinations only his pea brain understood. The familiar raucous laughter and jaunty music filled the air and my ear, effectively drawing me out of the doldrums of destructive thoughts. I was chaotic, disillusioned, and thoroughly pissed and try as I might, I couldn't figure out what part I'd played in Mustang's game.

Mustang.

I grimaced tightly. Even the thought of his name burned, the memories of his jaw giving away under my fist stoking the flames of my fury. As much as I'd wanted to mete out his punishment in the most violent manner, I hadn't felt an iota of satisfaction. After everything, all of the clues, the exasperation, I was no closer to the truth- or Mustang for that matter. And judging by the tight rein the state had on him, the next time I saw him would probably be on the execution field.

"Fucking Mustang and his games." The ice clinked as I slung the glass upward and drained its contents. As if on cue, a familiar face stepped up and poured more of the amber liquid, his congenial smile saying more than words ever would. I returned his smile and lifted the glass in a silent gesture of gratitude knowing that under his watchful eye I'd be safe. With that knowledge, I knocked the drink back again, careful not to guzzle it down too quickly. Although finding my peace inside a bottle, I was in no shape to walk the path of ignominy all by my lonesome.

"Running again?"

I slammed the glass down on the bar and shook my head. Even if David understood, that didn't necessarily mean that I wanted to spill my guts. With eyes averted and screwed closed, I waved him off, my chest burning from more than the alcohol. Chasing the memories with the drink was a bad idea but so was reliving the moment those damned eyes held mine or the excruciating sensation of my deliberate strikes landing true.

I exhaled lightly and lifted my head, slowly opening my eyes to see David standing patiently, his drying towel in hand and leaning forward. I didn't miss that he'd shuffled the liquor bottle out of sight and that he'd pushed another glass forward, this one filled with water. "It's never as bad as you think it is, young lady. Things will work themselves out. You just have to have faith."

"So, all I have to do is think good thoughts and all of my problems just disappear?"

I winced inwardly at the sharp tone but didn't linger on that too long. My emotions were intertwined with my thoughts, swallowing reasoning. Confusion and hurt were running in tandem, claiming dominion over my being realizing that I was in no better place than I was almost three weeks ago. Why did he pull such an elaborate scheme only to leave me, yet again, in the dark? What was his play? What had he been after aside from a sound ass kicking? The fury scratched for the surface, pairing nicely with the flashing images of Roy spinning away from me, an arc of blood spraying out of his mouth.

"If it were that easy, I'd be out of business," David chortled, pulling me out of my downward spiral. Our eyes met and even though annoyed I couldn't help the small smile that painted my lips. He was so relatable, so affable that it was easy to relax around him. His eyes, framed by tufts of sandy blond hair with grey stripes interspersed, crinkled at the edge, the wrinkles somehow bringing out the complacent gaze of a man who'd lived and learned through his mistakes- and probably a few others. It was that experience that made him the perfect fit for a place like this where people often came to forget all the terrible shit in their lives.

We sat there for long moments just looking at each other the silence nearly deafening even in such a rowdy place. Pinned under his observant stare I swallowed thickly, desperately pushing down the desire to purge the caustic emotions that ate at my sensibilities.

I leaned forward and exhaled wearily, "Ever wished that you could go back and stop something before it happened?"

"Ah, so we're talking about regrets then." David took a step back and glanced around his establishment, his keen eyes taking in the debauchery that surrounded him. When his eyes came back to me, he shook his head, "Regrets make us who we are, mold our experiences, and temper our reactions. What is life without the mistakes that fuel our decisions?"

"I'm not nearly drunk enough to debate philosophy, David."

"No debate here, young lady. Just a different perspective is all." He began wiping the bar, his voice nearly too soft to hear, "Understand that the decisions you've made are yours to square with and ultimately to live with. The question becomes, can you live with what you've decided?"

"Good question." It was one that I wasn't sure that I could answer at the moment. I couldn't help but think about Roy and how we'd always been thrown against each other through the maelstrom our tribulations and how it changed us. There was this thrum of primal need that coursed through us and it was electric, deliciously addictive, and terribly unpredictable. He hadn't said those words, yet it was evident in the way we moved. In how we related to each other when we were together and how ridiculously wrong we were for each other yet how contented we'd been just to be in one another's presence, riding the ebb and flow of our own volatile current.

But…did that spell love?

And a better question was did I want his love?

I pondered on that thought, staring sightless into the chipped wood as the world faded around me. What exactly did he think love was? Was it nothing more than his shadowy mind games and alluring yet deceitful touches? Or was there something more hovering just beneath the surface of this façade, some unknown and untapped part of him he feared would limit his ability to remain just out of my reach?

Ugh, relationships were fucking difficult and too complex for me to deliberate sober.

I could rectify that in short order. My eyes shifted toward the multitude of bottles and back to David, my lips turning upward into a crafty grin even as I pulled my wallet out and slapped it against the bar. David shook his head and reached for the bottle in question while smoothly producing a new glass, deftly adding a few cubes of ice. The questionable gaze soon segued into one of reluctance as he poured the drink, the sound of the liquid hitting the glass making me giddy. Money trumped rational thought at this juncture and as much as David wanted to spare me, he wouldn't intercede prematurely. He may have taken a liking to me but, ultimately, my turmoil was the currency that paid the bills.

"Just don't overdo it," he huffed. I lifted my glass to him in acknowledgment and he responded with an annoyed snap of his towel and tossed it onto his shoulder as he turned away, leaving me with my bounty for the night. I knew that he would keep his eyes on me for the duration of my stay.

I set about my business, funneling drinks quickly as the gaiety and raucous noise filled the air around me adding to the chaos that reigned within me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his steely blues stark in their defiance as he stared back. He'd assured me that he had it planned, that our fight would be nothing more than a farce. But it felt real. He'd played his part perfectly, attacking with such fervor that if I didn't know better, I'd swore he had been serious.

Of course, it had to be serious if it were to be believed. It sickened me that he'd put me in this position, tormented by conflict of heart and mind, posited to sit back and watch idly as he ruined his life -and by default, mine As confident I'd been in his intelligence, his strategy was sorely lacking. It left me confounded and irritated. There was no way around the fact that Roy Mustang still held the marionette's strings and was selfishly pulling me at his whim.

"Goddamn you, Roy," I mumbled sloppily. It had taken less than an hour and a half but I was nearly there, the blessed numbing sensation that accompanied these excursions into darkness. What a fucked up way to cope.

I reached to pour another drink but was foiled by a quicker hand, the bottle seemingly disappearing right before my eyes. I turned quickly to my right, my eyes narrowing at the offender as he placed the bottle further out of my reach. I targeted the bottle, doing my very best to ignore the person who sat next to me, puzzling out an effective way to steal back what was rightfully mine.

"I think you've had enough, Elric." His green eyes glinted cleverly behind his spectacles, his lips turned up in a deceptively placid smile, "You're going to want your wits about you for this."

Annoyed, I inched closer, fully prepared to reach across him and frowned when he countered by pushing the bottle further away. It was plain to see, short of instigating a fight- something I'm sure David would not appreciate- that he had me pinned squarely under his thumb. Tempted to throw a punch, I instead withdrew slowly and shifted away from him, my eyes settling on the empty glass before me, "Again with the obtuse riddles, Hughes? Have nothing better to do with your time?"

Hughes laughed gently as he leaned toward me, "Just trying to save our country is all." He moved to stand, taking up my arm. I held my ground, casting a deadly gaze toward him. He met it with all of the joviality of a jester, his smile hiding just a hint of duplicitous intent. "Trust me you're going to want to come with me, Edaline."

It was then that I took note of his wardrobe; instead of the familiar military uniform, Maes wore a plain dark suit paired innocuously with a jade colored button down disingenuously downplaying the air of mystery that surrounded his presence. He smiled again and nodded toward the back door and I sighed, not really in the mood for this cloak and dagger shit- again- but moved just the same. I glanced back at David, catching his worried expression and shook my head, giving him my best smile.

Maes tugged on my arm and I quickened my step as we wound through the drunk and disorderly, catching a random elbow here and a slap there. In what seemed like an eternity, we finally exploded out into the open, the faint sounds of revelry diminishing as the door eased closed. Free of the bar, I snatched my arm away from Maes and took a deep breath hoping that my head would stop spinning before I ventured to speak.

"We have to move quickly, Ed. The window of opportunity isn't infinite or easy to come by." He regarded me with a sardonic expression, one that really pissed me off. Knowing him he was doing it just to prod at my already raw nerves, the bastard. "I'm going to shed a bit of light on the situation."

"I thought that your hands were tied, Hughes." He ignored me and started walking and I followed, noticing that he favored the shadows as we wound our way through the streets of the city. Apparently, he wasn't as free to move about as I thought. Coming to the end of a nondescript alley, he stopped and peered around the corner, his attention solely on the decrepit building in front of him. For long moments, he stared, holding his arm back to keep me from stepping out into the street. The foot traffic was nonexistent and less than a few cars had passed. Curious and every bit annoyed at Maes' silence, I pinched his bicep tightly. His hissing response satisfied me more than I cared to admit and a small burst of laughter spilled from my lips. He glared back at me and I slapped my hand over my mouth and shrugged.

"If you're done, Elric."

"I'm not the one sneaking around in the dark, Hughes," I shot back quickly. "Mind telling me why we're dancing around deserted streets and clocking a rundown building?"

Maes turned again, his focus centering on the opposite side of the street. A lone man emerged from the adjacent alley, standing just outside of the demarcated darkness. A brief orange glow illuminated his face as he lit a cigarette and stowed the lighter in his pocket, taking a drag and blowing smoke. The nameless man cast his gaze up the street before turning to walk southward. I frowned as I watched him, easily noticing that he wasn't loitering- he was patrolling.

"Maes, what the fuck are we doing out here? What's going on in that building?" I grasped at his arm and tugged him backwards. He slapped me away and I, being the little shit I was, slapped him back. He matched the hits in a flurry of motion.

"Dammit, Edaline, we don't have time for this!"

"Then tell me what's going on, Maes!?"

"You're acting like a child, Elric." He'd finally grabbed my hands and pulled me closer to him, toppling over the trash in the process. The commotion echoed in the empty darkness, pulling the attention of the lone man on the street. Maes leaned out slightly, catching a glimpse of the man walking back toward us. He then pushed me aside, plastering himself against the wall in an effort to hide us from view.

I pushed his hand away again and moved, a bit miffed, "It's just one man, Hughes. We can take him out easily."

"A little finesse there, Ed." He peered outwardly, "C'mon…c'mon."

"Maes, what the he–"

My query died on my lips as I felt the pulse of energy and a flare of light. I leaned forward to get a better look only to see a man fleeing into the shadows. I gave chase, leaving Maes behind, my feet pounding on the pavement. Adrenaline flowed through my body giving way to startling clarity as I approached the prone body, pausing briefly to take note of the singe marks before continuing on. Racing in front of me was the shadowed figure moving deftly through the darkness, their long strides hindering my pursuit. I growled as I came to a complete stop, my chest heaving from the exertion. Without thinking, I clapped my hands and sunk to my knees, watching as the asphalt erupted under my palm.

"ED NO!"

A sinister smile rose as I projected the spikes, watching with a certain amount of satisfaction as they ate up the distance with ease, knocking the figure down. Assured that my quarry wasn't going anywhere, I walked forward, brushing my hand against the brick, pulling at the materials to form a solid staff. I was tired of being jerked around and was more than willing to take out my frustrations on whoever I was chasing.

"I don't know who you are but you're about to make up for a shitty night," I called out. Silence echoed through the dank alley and I approached cautiously, unsure of what to expect. A faint groan rose as I got closer and I tightened my grip on the staff, readying to engage. The closer I got, the better I could see and I watched as the person moved slowly to lean up against the wall, just barely able to make out his profile obscured partly by the encroaching blackness of the inky night. I brought the staff up in a defensive position, moving slower even as my heart crashed against my chest, "Look, I don't want to kick your ass so let's just take this slow."

A set of arms grasped me around my waist and hauled me upward before slamming me against the wall. I grit my teeth against the pulsating pain that shot through my body, grimacing as my attacker shoved his arm against my throat. I turned to see the figure starting off at a run and cursed under my breath as the shadows swallowed him once more. My throat tightened as the pressure increased and dark spots peppered my line of sight. I caught a whiff of his stale breath as he leaned inward, emitting a rough growl.

"Don't know who you are but ever heard of wrong place, wrong time?" He pushed further and I dropped my staff to claw at his meaty forearm. He sneered, mocking my attempts to escape. "Stepped in it, did you?"

With both hands, I pulled at his arm to no avail and I was quickly losing consciousness, the dark spots growing. I closed my eyes as I kicked out, hitting nothing but air. A hint of panic surfaced as my thoughts ran rampant the echoes of earlier regrets mixing in almost seamlessly. I couldn't die here, not now. Not before I figured out the enigma that was Roy Mustang.

Where the hell was Maes?

A strangled sound filled my ear followed by a rush of air as the pressure decreased by a measure. I opened my eyes to see my attacker staring at me, his eyes wide and tainted with equal amounts of alarm and pain. Seconds later, he dropped me completely and I fell to my knees, gasping for breath. I looked up in time to see the glint of the knife as it was pulled out of his neck, loosening a fine mist of blood spray as it painted the wall above me. The body fell away, revealing his assailant.

"Ed, are you okay?" Maes asked as he crouched down beside me. I eyed the body before me and then looked up at him, my vision still somewhat cloudy. Maes regarded the now deceased attacker and exhaled wearily, "And here I thought I could do this without any collateral damage." He clicked his tongue dismissively, "Between you and Mr. Show Off I should've known that was impossible."

"Fucking hilarious, Maes," I croaked. He offered his hand as he stood to his full height and I thought twice about taking it, instead keeping my eyes focused on his other, more lethal hand, the blood dripping off of the blade.

"Don't worry," he said as he proffered his hand once more, "This isn't for you." I took it and he pulled me up slowly, pulling me close to look me over, "Did he hurt you?"

"What, you mean other than trying to strangle me to death?" I groused irritably. Swallowing hurt and speaking wasn't that much easier. Just the effort was agonizing enough.

"Yeah, you're alright," Maes countered derisively. He glanced to his right and then to his left, listening. When he was satisfied that no one was coming, he released me and started walking back to the mouth of the alley, once again looking to his left and right. He turned back to me and gestured to the adjacent building, "Before your little adventure, I was leading you here."

I took a step back and gazed at the building, taking note of its state of disrepair. The windows that weren't shattered were boarded up and the brick façade was crumbling, leading me to believe that no one had occupied this space in a long time. Confused, I shook my head, "It's a fixer upper, that's for sure."

"Always the smart ass," Maes returned blithely. He emerged from the alley and walked up the stoop as if he owned the place.

"Mind telling me what the hell's going on?"

Maes pulled another blade from his back and turned to face me, "I'll explain in a minute." The sound of feet pounding against the rotting boards echoed through the desolate silence and he grinned, his expression unnerving, "I have to subdue our remaining friends first, then we'll go see him."

Him?

"What are you getting at?"

"Roy. They're holding him here." Maes peered into the darkness, "Stay close and whatever you do, don't transmute anything and for Truth's sake, don't say my name."

"Uh, okay?" Wait a minute… "Wait, what?"

Maes exhaled and moved forward, "Pick up your jaw from the floor and be ready to move on my mark." The first of the clamoring men appeared and Maes bellowed, "NOW!"

I followed along as Maes silently dispatched the men without spilling a single drop of blood. Once the floor was cleared, he moved toward a staircase that led both up and down and gestured to the stairs leading downward, "We should be fine from here on out. Counting the fried guard and the one in the alley, there were only eight scheduled to be here tonight?"

"Are you asking me or…"

"Smart ass," Maes repeated. Even though it was pitch dark, I could just hear him smirking. I moved past him and looked at the darkened staircase and then back to Maes. Maes nodded and placed a guiding hand on my back, "I'll stay up here and watch out for any stragglers. Thanks to that little light show, I can't be sure if there is a backup squad." I hesitated and he shook his head, "Roy's being detained in the first room to the left of the stair case. As much as you want to see him free, it is imperative that you do not touch him."

"This is bullshit, Maes!"

"This is exactly how he wanted to play this out," Maes countered stiffly. "Trust him he knows what he's doing. He wanted to see you and well, this was the only way we could figure out how to make it happen."

"If I hear another word about how he knows what he's doing, I swear, I'll rip your tongue out."

"No need to get violent, Ed."

"Fuck you, Maes." I stepped toward the darkness and frowned, "When this is over, I'm going to kill him." Maes' laughter echoed behind me as I descended further into the shadowy realm of unknowns, determined to get to the bottom of all of this.

TBC…

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