You know you're in trouble right now. You have military on your tail and you've got other... unsavory elements nearby. There are two options open: one, run like hell; two, give yourself up.

You quash your pride and take off.

"Don't go after him!"

Maybe those damn alchemists are smarter than you give them credit for.

You look back and catch a glimpse of cool blue eyes. Dear God...

†

You lay shivering under a pile of corpses. It's so hot and the air is so thick under them that you can't breathe. Not that you would particularly want to. Black combat boots are eerily close and voices are eerily clear.

"Any survivors?"

"Not that I know of, sir. The heavy infantry appears to have done their job well."

You hear a sharp crack. "Don't take that arch tone with me, Lieutenant! Just –"

"Gentlemen, please." A third voice, choked with an emotion it's clearly uncomfortable with. "Let Lieutenant Havoc continue with his duty, Gran."

"He insulted –!"

"Stand down, Major. We're in a war, not an officer's club!" You hear disgruntled mumbling, then the third voice says sharply, "Stand down Major. If I have to write your for abuse of your position, I will."

You tense. You fear you will be found. You're not afraid of death, just afraid of disgracing your name even further. Your brother was bad enough. This would just make it ten times worse. You do have your pride, after all.

The bodies covering you are shifted one by one and you take a grateful breath of air. It's cool and sharp, with the bitter tang of smoke. Not the smoke of burning houses and people (even though you can vaguely smell it in the background) but the more comforting scent of a lit cigarette. You crack open one eye with a morbid curiosity to see who will be the one to kill you.

And encounter beautiful blue eyes. You'd never seen blue eyes before the war, and these are simply breathtaking. They're vaguely purple now, due to the fading remnants of the sunset, but you can tell they're the color of the sky in high summer.

The eyes blink. "There you are. You look a mess."

Huh?

"Could have sworn that I got you dead-on with a bullet." He rolls the remaining bodies off and crouches down next to you. "Oh, well. Gotta hand it to you, you're good at survival."

He offers you a hand. "Am I your prisoner?" you ask, unsure.

"No, I'm helping you escape. Just on principle, you know."

Now you're confused. "What in...?"

The blue eyes turn serious for a second. "You still have a decent shot at living, There's a refugee caravan heading further west soon. It's all noncombatants, so the military's deciding to let it go. I want you with that caravan."

You realize with a nasty shock that the soldier isn't that much older than you, and maybe even a little bit younger. "Why are you helping me?"

His hands start checking you for injuries. "We both know this is a stupid war. Your people haven't done anything to us. I don't even know why we're here." He grins sidelong at you. "Just because I'm a soldier doesn't mean that I have to like killing people. I'm not particularly fond of watching people's skulls shatter."

"Then why are you here? If everything you say is true, then you shouldn't be here!"

"The draft. I was the right age, healthy, and I have a steady hand." Blue eyes flick up to yours. "You feel okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine –"

"Eat some of this." He proffers some trench food.

You take it, the feel of his fingers sparking fire along your nerves. How could that be possible? You've only just met him, he's an enemy, he's killed your people, you'll never see him again, and he's a man!

"You'll have to hurry. The night patrols are starting in fifteen minutes. You'll need to be well out of sight by then and you can't make a sound. Don't get yourself killed."

He helps you up, his hand warm and calloused. You shiver at the contact.

Damn. Now he's going to be in your dreams for months.

"Get going. And don't forget to return the favor if you ever find someone in trouble like this."

You nod and flee.

†

It's the same blue eyes – not good at all. You've been dreaming about those eyes for years on end now... and now you've seen him again. He looks no different. Damn.

He's watching you, with not a flicker of recognition in those cool sapphire orbs.

His eyes are even prettier in daylight.

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Written for Torii. Sorry it took so long, hun. I have a BIG backlog of crap I need to get done by this Wednesday.

Sorry for the Scar OC, but it was the only way I could manage to make this work. Mea culpa and all that jazz.

... -looks around- Where are all my reviewers? I feel lost and lonely without you wonderful people.