Disclaimer: I don't own nothing (haha, double negative...) I don't not own nothing no day of any week. (Haha, triple negative) I don't don't not not own not nothing no day of any week (haha, 7X negative!)
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Roy Mustang was disturbed greatly. All evidence pointed to that fact that the child was alive. Yet searching for six and a half years hadn't gotten him any closer to solving this mystery than being promoted to Colonel had to Fuhrer. Supposedly, the IT had new evidence almost every week, but if that were so, why hadn't they identified Edward Elric's killer! Glowering over his paperwork, (that god forsaken paperwork!) he launched his empty coffee mug towards the wall, watching shatter. It vented some of his anger, some of his frustration.
At that moment, that oh-so-perfect moment, Hawkeye chose to waltz in through the door to complain about incorrectly filed paperwork (that god forsaken paperwork!). She was met with some important documents (that god forsaken paperwork!) flying at her face, scattering all over the floor. Silently, the woman did her duty of stacking it and replacing on the Colonel's desk, only to be disappointed by the discovery that his coffee mug was in pieces on the floor and a half-dozen empty beer bottles lay hidden under the desk.
"Sir..." she said quietly.
"What is it with you and your paperwork! Can't you see I'm busy? I'm doing something else! This is not productive, Hawkeye! If you knew how much work there is to do-"
"Sir... you really shouldn't use alcohol to solve your problems."
He sat quiet.
"You're right."
He slumped into his chair and seemed to doze off for a second, but started abruptly when Hawkeye softly said, "Sir?"
"There's just no other way, Hawkeye. I just can't..."
"Sir, I also came in here to tell you that the Fuhrer himself has given you a month of leave to collect yourself. He says you're working too hard on this case and it's driving one of his best alchemists over the edge."
"That sounds nice..." Mustang said, his head lolling to is side.
Hawkeye realized that that was all she was going to get out of this conversation and proceeded to get a wool blanket from the closet in Roy's office. She covered him with it and murmured, "I guess I'm going to stay late again..."
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Attachment is a human thing. Yet, as she fingered the child's, silky golden hair, she could not help wonder if her memories clouded her actions as a homunculus. Her master had made it clear. The child was an instrument. Nothing more.
Collin was sprawled across the blue and black couch that had been his first work area. He had since been moved into the alchemy room to learn new lessons. Alchemy fascinated Collin. All he did was copy a transmutation circle from a book and it could change anything he wanted. Whenever he asked 'why', he was told that it was magic. Not believing it, but not wanting to disagree, it was always left at that.
For the past few hours, Wrath had been occupying the gardens. Destroying them, more like. He trampled flowers and had disregard for the amounting number of 'keep off grass' signs. Collin would have preferred to nap outside, but his disinterest of communication kept him inside. So, the couch it was.
Carefully, ever so quietly, Lust ran a soft, manicured hand down the child's smooth cheek. She wished that this could have been hers. The faint glimpses of memories, her past lover, her passion, her love for children. She was despicable. Such humanly things. And yet, even after the cruel and daunting knowledge that this whim was awkward and impossible, she wanted it more. Her twisted mind playing around the thoughts of what might have been. And then, she glanced at the child before her and grew more protective. It was her child.
Seeing Collin's soft eye-lashes flutter, Lust withdrew her hand and silently backed away, unnoticed.
Collin shook his head and rubbed his cheek. It tingled like someone had lightly brushed it while passing. Glancing about the dust covered room, Collin sought the culprit. To his distress, he found no intruder and became anxious, his distorted brain returning over the neurotic thought that some stranger had invaded his personal space. Spinning around wildly, he knocked a glass figurine off of the table. It shattered instantly.
Quickly bending over, Collin tried picked up the pieces, only to nick his fingers on the sharp diamond-like shards. He gasped, placing his fingers in his mouth, sucking the scarlet drops of blood. Calming himself, he drew a transmutation circle around the entirety of the figurine and put his free hand on it. It self-repaired, much to Collin's relief, and he gingerly placed it back on the table.
He was dismayed to find that when he removed his finger from his mouth that it still had a small shard of glass in it. Carefully, he used his opposite hand to squeeze the nuisance from his tender flesh. It came out quite painlessly, slick with blood. Not knowing what to do with it, he threw it under the couch.
At that moment, Envy walked into view from the hallway, an irritated look on his face. He stopped at the edge of the room and barked, "I heard a crash."
Collin said nothing.
"What did you break?" he said, a menacing look on his face.
Timidly pointing to the figurine, he looked for Envy's reaction. It seemed indifferent. Placing his hands nonchalantly into his pockets, Envy shrugged and left the room.
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The phone rang.
For a moment, Riza Hawkeye glared at it.
The second ring, Riza Hawkeye rid herself of annoyance.
The third, she picked up the set and said in a secretarial voice, "Hawkeye, Colonel Mustang's office. Go ahead."
The other line was breathless. "We got one! You... you better hurry! Send the Colonel! Hold him men! He's... We got at least twenty men holding him down! Hurry!"
"What is your location? Do we need arms?"
"The warehouse on 43rd, between the farmer's market and factory. And yes ma'am! My boys would love some hardware."
"I will report this to the Colonel immediately. What is 'this' by the way?"
"One of those seven who are wanted. The homuncalus... er the homanculas."
Hawkeye inhaled sharply. "Are you sure?"
"No doubt. But hurry! He's nearly impossible to hold! Dammit, I said bind him to the-"
Slamming the receiver down, Hawkeye instinctually placed the nonexistent strand of loose hair behind her eye and moved towards Mustang, who had since sobered up. He knew from her expression that something had finally happened. A lead had been made, or found. Hawkeye nodded to confirm his growing suspicion and simultaneously, they head for the door.
Growling playfully, Hawkeye scoffed, "You know that I'm not on duty right now, right sir?"
"Then you'd best head home, Riza."
"I'm volunteering my services, so it's First Lieutenant Hawkeye. At least until we're off of work." Examining his rough face, she said, "My god, you do need a vacation."
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His violet eyes, dilated. Pulse quickened. Heart pounding. Flight or fight mode. Fear.
"Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!"
The constant wail ongoing for about ten minutes.
"Sir, he's only a child."
"Did you not see what he did to Mansley? I want him tied down and incapacitated!"
The homunculus thrashed about transmuting his arm into a watery substance, trying to evade their harsh tethers. Collecting his small form, he created a blade and sprinted towards the exit. Plowing the guards away, he blew the door open.
Snap.
An explosion of flames engulfed the child.
In walked Colonel Mustang, his confidence radiating. His face was serious, though, and he quickly commanded all attention. With a sharp bark he managed to assemble the remaining soldiers and organize them. He explained slowly, carefully, never stumbling, "That thing is not human. That thing is not a child. And that thing is not dead."
Nervous eyes shifted to the pile of ash and charred bone lying useless on the floor, unbelieving that 'it' was not dead. Would it even want to be alive after that?
Mustang continued. "What I want is for someone to keep constant watch on him, and any signs of resurrection are to be followed up by a quick and sure death. I need the IT down here, so have them radioed in. Also call for Fullme- never mind. Call in the Wind Alchemist. I think he may be able to help."
Glancing towards Hawkeye, he grinned. "I think we have them, Riza."
She was about to correct him, but only smiled back. Things were finally looking up.
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I was thinking that Mustang and Hawkeye are going to be just good friends in this fic, so like, yeah. Anything that sounds... suggestive... is merely them being... corny. So... yeah. Please, review. bows
Oops! I just read my disclaimer and all of the negatives totaled at 8, which is even, which means I own FMA! -extra negative appears- Nevermind.