Dimensions
By: Kurama-Sweethart (Moe)
Warning(s): Spoiler for the SERIES AND MANGA. It isn't really based on either one alone, per say- but my own crazy rendition of the two. For example, the timeline is manga formatted- Cornello happened before Nina, and Ed is 15. However, the events that take place are in the anime format, when it comes to dialogue and happenings. Also, Mustang is Colonel as opposed to Major, as shown in the series. Obviously, in the beginning it is set before the death of Maes Hughes. Blah blah, I'm sure you get the idea.
Pairing(s): Blunt Roy x Ed in later chapters. Yaoi, Shonen-ai and probably some sex/smut along the way. Tringham love interests, as well – Russell x Ed

Havoc yawned, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting up, inhaling quickly the thick, blissful tobacco and sighing as it filled his lungs. He didn't care what anyone said: they could have their coffee and it's caffeine- all he needed was one of those delicious little sticks and he was awake and ready for the day.

Shuffling down the hallways of Central HQ, the Lieutenant grasped his papers sluggishly, glad to have that stupid report done and signed. As he neared the Colonel's office, he stopped just outside the door. He could hear voices inside, not well, because they were hushed and frantic. Curious, he leaned closer, his ear pressed against the cold wood.

"…Hughes, we can't just waltz up to the Fuhrer's office and accuse his secretary of treason." He distinctly picked out Mustang's voice.

"Well, what should we do?" Lieutenant Colonel Hughes replied, a tinge of anxiety in his voice.

"I say," Roy started after a short pause. "We present our findings to the Fuhrer himself."

Another pause. "If these people have infiltrated the military, what if the Fuhrer-"

"We just have to assume that he is indeed on our side." Mustang retorted, the stress in his voice putting an end to all arguments. "What else can we do?"

Havoc took it upon himself to interrupt at this point. He knocked and waited a moment before entering. "Colonel Mustang, sir." He greeted, nodding his head. "'Morning, Hughes."

"Finish that report, Lieutenant?" The Colonel asked, peering suspiciously at him with dark eyes, as though he knew he had been eavesdropping the whole time.

The Lieutenant nodded. "Yup, finished last night." He handed him the papers, but Mustang put them aside, looking up at him sternly.

"Good." The Colonel praised. "Listen, Havoc. There's something that Hughes and I need to speak with you about, but before we do, I need you to swear that you won't let ever tell anyone this information."

He nodded, saluting. "Yessir."

Hughes looked up from his spot at the couch, but said nothing. "We've found some documents that might mean that an outside group, calling themselves "Homunculi" have gotten into the military enough to influence very high-profile decisions, and that one of them could possibly be the Fuhrer's secretary, Juliet Douglas."

"Homunculi? How d'ya figure that?" He asked through an exhale of smoke.

"See this tattoo?" The Colonel asked, handing him a picture. "That's the sign of Ouroboros."

Havoc raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't connect her with anything though."

Mustang sighed, and continued to explain what could fuel their suspicions of the woman responsible for the Ishbal Uprising and the sudden appearance of her as secretary. "Well, a rumor has been circulating that this tattoo is their 'symbol' or 'crest' of sorts, which is one of the main reasons for suspicion."

Finally convinced, the Lieutenant nodded. "So why are telling me this?"

"Just be aware." The Colonel answered. "And if something is to happen to Hughes or I-" he glanced at the man grinning lazily on his couch, fingering another image of his daughter. "I want you to alert Hawkeye and the others. Finish what we started."

Havoc smirked widely, saluting. "Yes, sir."

In the days that followed, Russell and Ed grew very close. There were more moments that made the hairs on the back of the elder Elrics' neck prickle, times when the taller alchemist would smile or say something randomly about their arrays or mumble a slew of curses that made a jolt shoot down his spine. He couldn't quite pick out exactly what caused his infatuation with the blonde, but every day he grew more and more irritated with himself that he had, even for a moment, let his thoughts stray away from the task at hand. Not only was there the Philosopher's Stone to create to aide the opening of the continuum, but also there was the vortex itself to worry about. Any other distractions were unacceptable.

Unacceptable. Isn't that what sensei had said? Letting yourself stray from the task at hand was unacceptable. Only stupid people, weak people let themselves slip away from their goals.

But what if getting to know Russell was his goal?

Since the Elrics had begun to stay with the Tringhams, the younger siblings had grown close, as well. Al and Fletcher did their amounts of work, too, creating arrays and theories for the vortex. But at the same time, they helped pick lemons and made pies, stargazed and watched clouds. Ed had to admit having another person, someone Al's own age, was good for his brother. It brought out the kid that was in there somewhere; the naiveté and the need to play. Innocence was something that had forsaken the Fullmetal Alchemist: But should it elude his little brother, as well?

"Ed?" Russell asked, waving a hand in front of his face. "Hellooooooo. Earth to Edward."

The shorter scowled and glared at the blond. "What was that for?"

"You were daydreaming or something. Here, look at this array I made." He shoved a sheet of paper towards him.

Ed's eyes widened as he glanced down at the intricate design- a circle, still, as his own alchemic arrays, but with much more complicated designs- squiggled lines and almond shapes, diamonds and a variety of random polygons. Minute, detailed symbols decorated the outside of the matrix. If it hadn't been so foreboding, he'd have been aghast at Russell's artistic ability.

"The only problem is that I don't know how to be sure it'd work properly." Russell said quietly.

Ed ran his flesh fingers over the lines, reading them, face screwed up in concentration. "We could try it." He said suddenly. "Just to test it out. It's the only way we could know for sure, right?"

The taller boy nodded solemnly. "I'd like to keep Al and Fletcher out of it. Maybe tonight? There's a meteor shower and I bet they'd like to watch. We can do it while they're out."

The Fullmetal agreed. "Tonight, then."

"Juliet Douglas?" The woman repeated, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose with one long-nailed finger. "The Fuhrer's secretary left last night for an extended vacation."

The Colonel glanced to the man standing beside him. Hughes exchanged the gaze, a frown worrying his face. "When will she be back?"

The substitute secretary looked like she might roll her eyes- but thought against it. "I don't know. Miss Douglas is in direct contact with only Fuhrer Bradley."

"When can we speak with him?" There was a sense of urgency in Hughes' voice.

But the woman wouldn't budge. "The Fuhrer is a very busy man, Lieutenant, he can't-"

"I can't what, Miss Dodges?" A voice asked from behind the two military men, who whipped around quickly and saluted.

"Fuhrer Bradley, Sir." They said in unison.

"Colonel Mustang, Hughes." He greeted with an open-palmed wave. "Here, come into my office." He gestured, making his way towards the doorway. "Can I offer you gentlemen coffee?"

"No, thank you, sir." Roy answered as he and Hughes stood in attention in front of the Fuhrer's desk. "Listen, there's something we need to speak with you about."

Bradley sat at his desk, fingers laced properly upon a small stack of papers. "Alright, Colonel. Shoot."

After the two men had finished relieving their suspicions, the Fuhrer had a solemn look creased over his features, brow furrowed. Was that resentment? The feeling of being two-timed by a possible murderer? Or was it… anxiety?

"This is serious. Unfortunately Miss Douglas is out of the country right now on vacation, and won't return until the end of the month."

Mustang thought for a moment, as if something had just occurred to him. "Has she gone on vacation before, Sir?"

"Come to think of it, no." The Fuhrer answered truthfully.

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps Miss Douglas became aware of our suspicions and fled."

"It is a possibility. My only problem with your theory, Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hughes," he stated gravely, "Is why would Miss Douglas want to be in the military?"

The two exchanged glances. "Perhaps this group wanted to influence large-scale military decisions to their favor."

"Well, I will not deny that this is suspicious." The Fuhrer said finally, after a long pause. He stood and filed the documents away. "This is a delicate procedure, gentlemen. Do be cautious. Dismissed. "

"Yes, sir." The two saluted before making their way towards the door.

Lust made her way across the dark floor, stopping in the bright beams of morning that had begun to snake their way in the circular window. She squinted into the light, holding an arm lazily over face. The sin sighed longingly, creeping across the room to the other side, plopping herself down onto one of the chairs, allowing her dark hair to veil her face. Sleep had seemed to forget to visit her that night.

She brought a hand to her face, studying it with dark eyes. Frowning, she grew one of her nails, tracing the lines of her palm thoughtfully, applying just enough pressure to slice the skin. She watched in mild interest as blood gushed from the lacerations and pooled and fell silently to the floor, the crimson a bright contrast to the dark, indistinct floors.

Uninterested, she regenerated quickly, watching with a bored daze over her face as all traces of her self-mutilation crept away, returning once again to its flawless, smooth state. Almost longingly, she wondered what it was like to feel physical pain, for she had long since forgotten the way flesh felt when it was sliced. Lust closed her eyes for a moment, leaning her head back against the wall. It was the side effect of this forsaken curse. She could feel absolutely nothing. Her touch lingered against silk or velvet, fingertips running over the material warily, praying and pleading to some nameless deity that she could feel it, just for a moment. Her artificial body lacked in stimulation that allowed her to physically feel anything, which some would count as a blessing.

The original theory for homunculi was that they were a living doll, incapable of independent thought or emotion. They were just mere copies, reproductions of the original thing. But that couldn't be, she refused to believe that she had no true existence. She could want, couldn't she? She felt need and desire.

Then again, Lust thought bitterly, the only thing she desired was to be human. She felt no compassion for the people killed, no remorse over those lost in their attempts at mortality. She lusted after physical and material things, after all. Humans could love. The only thing the homunculi loved was the thought- the prospect of being human. Perhaps she was just a doll, as lifeless and emotionless as a child's plaything. She was damned to a life of desire.

But wasn't that her namesake?

Meh, this was mainly a filler chapter just to get stuff done. No fluffy romance or actionyet, that'll come later. As for now, my muse is back to work from their small break, hopefully getting some action started!

General anticipated end-of-chapter pleading: Review or no updates for you. (Haha, I made a rhyme! But seriously.)