Summery: This is going to be an AU, and placed several years after the anime. The timeline is kinda just fuzzy, so I wouldn't think about it too much. An Alchemist is sent by Armstrong to Mustang, but the rest of the team doesn't know why. However, Havoc soon discovers her true purpose...Note: The Homunculis are gone, so the Fuher is just a man, not Pride. Spoilers shouldn't be present.
Warning: Some suggestive themes and swearing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or any characters. I do own the plot and all OCs
This is going to be a Havoc/OC story, people! I love Havoc, and it seems he doesn't get much attention, so I decided that he'd be my next targert. I hope you all like this! The title Shadow Alchemist and her power I credit to Duo Chibi, my friend who thought of the name for me. I'm going to wait and see how this does on here before I start to really update it, just so you know.
Please review if read. Comments, ideas, suggestions, and helpful criticism welcome.
"We're getting a transfer in?" Feury asked in surprise, and Roy nodded, having just told his unit the news. "Really? How come?"
"Her unit was dispersed during the investigation following the Fuher two years ago," Roy informed them. "She was cleared of any suspicion, and was sent to our unit to carry out any orders I may need to be completed away from Central."
"Oh, like a scout or something?" Havoc guessed, his customary cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth lazily, then blinked. "She?"
"The Shadow Alchemist," Riza said in clipped tones. "Kirstin Dewfall has been an alchemist since she was fifteen. She uses her alchemy to disperse negatively-charged particles into the air, creating areas of darkness, or shadows. She should be arriving this evening or early tomorrow morning."
"Or right now, since I caught an early train once I received my orders," a young woman interrupted, and the group turned to see her standing in the doorway. Her dark-red hair was almost a mahogany color, and was in a braided coronet on the nape of her neck. "Shadow Alchemist, reporting for duty, Brigadier General Mustang."
"At ease," Roy nodded, ignoring the other's reaction to the woman. Her eyes, a dark green, were set off by her lightly-tanned skin and the uniform only accentuated her slim figure. "You arrived earlier than expected, Sergeant Major."
"I didn't see the point in waiting, sir," she replied calmly, setting down her baggage. "If it's a problem, we can pretend I didn't arrive until later."
"That won't be necessary," Roy said in dry amusement, sitting down at his desk. "I understand you were involved in several corruption investigations within the military in the past years, since you served under Colonel Archer."
"Yes, sir," she nodded briefly, and several short pieces of hair fell into her face. "However, I was cleared of those charges, sir. Need I prove my innocence once more?"
"No, no," he waved his hand, and her face returned to a serene appearance. "This is Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye, Major Jean Havoc, Major Falman, First Lieutenant Kain Feury, and Warrant Officer Heymans Breda. Men, this is Sergeant Major Kirstin Dewfall. She'll be working alongside you for a while, so you better get along."
"Yes, sir!" Falman saluted, and then realized he was the only one who had. Kirstin looked a little bored, and then blinked as if remembering something.
"Sir, if I could speak to you in private?" she asked. Mustang looked a little surprised, but nodded and led her into another office.
"Wow," Breda whistled, and Riza immediately tuned them out. "She's not that bad-looking. Who says Havoc makes a pass for her?"
"That goes without saying," Falman said sternly. "I place one hundred that she doesn't even give him a second glance."
"One hundred?" Havoc repeated incredulously, but was ignored as the others began to eagerly place bets as well. After a moment, the stunned Major realized something else. "Hey, how come they're all against me?" he demanded.
"Safest bet!" Breda, Falman, and Feury told him simultaneously. Riza groaned and merely shook her head.
"I see. I thought it was odd that Armstrong sent you so suddenly," Mustang mused, and eyed her over the tops of his fingertips. "And what if I decide to send you back?"
"I was sent here by Colonel Armstrong, sir," Kirstin said, standing straight and staring straight ahead as she usually did. "If you choose, I'll return to the East Division immediately. May I remind you, though, that the Colonel sent me here under –"
"The Fuher's orders. Yes, yes, I know that," Mustang interrupted her impatiently. "Armstrong must be really desperate to lodge you here – he stated that same phrase almost five times in his letter to me, and now here's the messenger-woman herself here parroting them."
"Yes, sir," she nodded, but her jaw tightened slightly. Mustang looked at her in amusement and leaned back in his chair, dragging the silence out. "May I stay, sir?" she asked finally. He made a noise in the back of his throat, but nodded.
"Yes – when you know there's a ferret among the chickens, you can keep a close eye on it," he said, and Kirstin smiled tightly.
"If I may say so, sir, that's how they describe you in the Eastern Division."
"I'm not surprised," Mustang shrugged, and suddenly stood up. "You may have been cleared, but what part did you play with Archer?"
"I was just a foot soldier, sir," Kirstin said without blinking. Mustang sighed and sat back down slowly.
"Of course you were. Well, welcome to the team, Sergeant Major. Tell Armstrong if he wants to send anyone else, I'll barbeque them on the spot."
"Yes, sir," Kirstin snapped to attention, giving no hint that she was surprised Mustang knew she reported to Armstrong directly – if she was surprised. Watching her back as she left the room, Mustang spun to face the window, resting his chin on his folded hand.
"Hmm…it might be useful, having one of Armstrong's runners in the office," he mused to himself. "After all, if she was sent here for what she told me, then that could prove quite useful indeed…"
"Are you staying in the barracks?" Feury asked, as Kirstin picked up her bag. She straightened in surprise, and then shook her head.
"I'm renting a small apartment above a store down the street," she revealed, fixing her jacket absently. "If I'm needed before tomorrow morning, the Major knows where to contact me."
"Need a ride?" Havoc asked, standing up. She looked at him briefly before nodded.
"That would be a help."
"I win!" Feury cheered, once the pair had left.
"Not yet!" Breda protested, while Falman mourned defeat. "I bet they make it to their first date, remember? Until she shoots him down we're not done yet."
"Give it up, you two," Riza commented absently.
"Geez, she's too quiet," Havoc thought, shifting uncomfortably as he drove down the street. The young woman beside him gazed silently out the window, not having said anything once she had given him directions. She seemed to be keeping a close eye on the women they passed, however, and Havoc had a disturbing thought about her preferences. "She doesn't…but you never know, I guess. Damn, she better not be!"
"I'm not attracted to women, Major," she said calmly, surprising him.
"Huh? I wasn't – you didn't…"
"I wasn't hard to tell what you were thinking, by your expression," Kirstin told him wryly. "I see the Brigadier General doesn't require political games in this branch, does he, sir?"
"Well, we don't usually get involved," Havoc admitted, before clamping his mouth shut. She smiled slightly before looking out the window again.
"I see. Well, wherever the Fuher is, a poker face better be on," she continued for some reason. "I know it will take some time for me to become accustomed to things here – and vice versa, of course – but I think we'll get along fine once I do, Major."
"Just call me Havoc," he said, and she glanced at him before looking away again. "Was she hitting on me? She doesn't seem like she is…" "Is this the place?" he asked, interrupting his train of thought as he pulled up in front of a curio shop.
"Yes," she nodded, stepping out of the car. "Thank you – Havoc."
"No problem!" he called, as she strode into the building. Heaving a sigh as he drove away, Havoc groaned. "I can see why they call her the Shadow Alchemist – you can't figure her out! She just slips away just as you think you've got a lead on her," he mumbled, almost hitting a post in his concentration on the fairer sex – and the new transfer in particular.
"What a weird guy," Kirstin thought, taking her jacket off with a relieved sigh. "I still don't get why Armstrong wanted me positioned here, but whatever. As long as I stay cleared, then our deal's still up and I can't back down." Shaking her hair loose, it fell to her shoulder blades as she brushed it out, tossing her bag on the bed with the free hand. "Mustang is as sharp as they told me – good thing I don't have to try to dodge him. Much, anyway."
Shrugging, she kicked off her boots, and remained standing for a moment in the snug dark rust-red shirt of the military and her pants before turning to her bag and beginning to unpack. A cot was pushed up into a corner, and a door to the small bathroom was next to it. A small refrigerator, table, two chairs, and some counter space were on the opposite walls, with the windows bearing plain white shades. Kirstin, finished packing, continued to undress as she headed into her bathroom, more than ready for a shower to wash off the dust of traveling.
"What are you all doing?" she asked blankly, arriving at the office early that morning. Feury was in the middle of trying to wrestle the coffee pot from Havoc, while Breda ignored them, half-asleep. Riza was in the office with Mustang, and Falman was apparently still absent.
"Morning stuff," Feury replied, and she looked down as Black Hayate barked at her. His head now reached most people's waists, and Kirstin was no exception.
"That's Black Hayate – Hawkeye's dog," Havoc explained, rubbing the lump on his head since Feury seemingly won the coffee battle for today.
"Oh. I didn't know animals were allowed in the offices," Kirstin thought as Riza came in.
"They're not, but he's an exception," the other woman said calmly, and Kirstin nodded.
"I was just saying. I'm not going to report anyone, if that's what you all think," she told them, heading for her desk.
"Coffee?" Havoc offered, but she shook her head.
"I had some before I came."
"Mustang wants to see you," Riza told her, and Kirstin stood up again, having barely sat in her chair for three seconds.
"All right," she shrugged, and strolled into the office casually.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" she asked, and Mustang looked up from the newspaper abruptly.
"Hm? Oh yes, I did, actually," he nodded, and suddenly thrust the newspaper in her face. "What's a five-letter word for a mountain?"
"Sir?" Kirstin blinked, her jaw actually dropping open. Mustang pulled the paper back with a sigh, and placed it on the desk before looking back at her.
"I didn't think you'd know it," he shrugged, "And close your mouth – it's unseemly." Kirstin quickly snapped her jaw shut, and he continued. "Now, there was another soldier murdered last night in the same manner you and Armstrong described to me previously. Here's the information I was able to get pertaining to the cases we've had here – I've transferred money into your private account for incentive, if need be."
"Thank you, sir, but I don't think that will be necessary," Kirstin nodded, and glanced at the folders in her hand. "What do you want me to do with this, sir?"
"Whatever you came here to do, of course," he replied. "If you were sent to hunt down this murderer, then get to it before we lose any more men."
"Sir!" she saluted sharply and strode from the room, and Mustang returned to his crossword puzzle.
"In trouble already?" Breda chuckled, and Kirstin ignored him as she returned to her desk, flipping through the information absently. Most of it was things she had already gathered for herself, but there were several new clues that jumped out at her.
"Get to work, Warrant Officer," Riza barked, and he jumped at her order. "Sergeant Major, do you have any pressing business to attend to?" Riza continued, turning to the other woman, who looked up briefly with glazed eyes.
"Not now, Lieutenant Colonel," she replied.
"Then I need you to take this to Brigadier General Carbora over across town. Havoc can drive you – he hasn't got anything better to do," Riza added, handing files to Kirstin, who saluted while Havoc spluttered.
"But…but…"
"I have five hundred that you get turned down for a first date, so get to it, Major!" Riza informed him, her tone starting out quiet and jumping to a shout at the last part. He leapt to his feet and rushed after Kirstin, still mumbling to himself.
"I thought…"
"The Brigadier General apparently thinks he can get her to go out with him, and I had to prove him wrong," Riza smiled sweetly before turning to her own work, and the three men shuddered.
"Scary," Feury whispered, and they jumped again when she shouted.
"Feury!"
"Y-yes…?"
"I heard that."
"Is Brigadier General Carbora a popular man?" Kirstin asked Havoc, both surprised at the amount of military personnel surrounding the building.
"I didn't think so," he shrugged, parking the car. "Come on, we may as well try to get in."
"Fine with me," she agreed, and followed him towards the front door. They were stopped by several officers, who examined them roughly before demanding their identification.
"Sergeant Major Kirstin Dewfall, Shadow Alchemist."
"Major Jean Havoc, sir," he informed them curtly, and the man inspected an apparent roster before nodding abruptly.
"What's your business here?"
"Brigadier General Mustang, Flame Alchemist, sent us here with these for the Brigadier General," Kirstin said calmly. "It's classified information, I'm afraid. Are we going to be allowed to pass, or not? We need to see him as soon as possible."
"I'm afraid no one can see the Brigadier General," the man revealed coolly. "He was just found murdered in his office."
"What?" she gasped, and Havoc's jaw dropped. "How?" she demanded.
"That is classified information as well, ma'm," the man began, before his superior, hearing their conversation, strode over and whispered something in his ear. His eyes widening, he nodded and turned back to them as his superior strode away. "Excuse me, ma'm. All initial reports indicate that Brigadier General Carbora was killed by alchemy."
"What was the state of the body?" Kirstin asked sharply, and Havoc looked between the two in confusion.
"There were no marks on the body at all except for a bruise-like area on his collarbone," the man reported. Havoc was still wondering why a Second Lieutenant was deferring to a Sergeant Major, but decided to bring it up with Mustang when they got back to the office.
"I see," she nodded thoughtfully, lost in her own thoughts for a moment before returning to the officer once more. "I'd like copies of all documents and photographs sent to my address in Brigadier General Mustang's office across town, if at all possible."
"I'll see to it as soon as we're able to, ma'm," the man nodded, and strode off back to the building.
"What was all that?" Havoc demanded, as they made their back to the office.
"What was what?" she asked absently, peering intently at the crowd as they drove past.
"A Second Lieutenant listening to a Sergeant Major – even if they are an Alchemist – never happens," he pressed. "Why'd Armstrong send you here so suddenly anyway? I think we all have a right to know."
"You mean you have a right to know," she corrected, still not looking at him. "Mustang knows, which is enough for now. If you want to know, go ask him. He's more likely to tell you than I am. But you can be assured that it's for a good reason."
"Hmph," he grunted, and stared at the road ahead of him, unsure if he was annoyed or not at the young woman sitting next to him. "Bastards…all placing bets against me. She's not my type anyway – too stiff."
"Is there a problem, Major?" Mustang asked casually later that day. Kirstin was busy at her desk studying something, and Havoc had taken the opportunity to question his superior about the new addition to the team.
"Yes, sir," he nodded, and proceeded to tell him what had happened at the office that morning.
"And? The Sergeant Major already sent in her report, Major," the officer said calmly, showing no reaction. "I appreciate the thought, but it wasn't necessary."
"Why was she sent here?" Havoc demanded suddenly, becoming annoyed at his superior's calm demeanor. "Armstrong sent her without warning, and that whole business with the First Lieutenant – what's going on around here? And Brigadier General Carbora's death is the fourth found this month like this."
"Hm," Mustang murmured, and glanced up at Havoc. "And you expect me to spill my guts to you? I'm not sure myself what Armstrong was doing, sending the Sergeant Major, but I do know why she's here – and it's a damn good reason, Major. Now, I have work to do, so if you'll excuse me."
"Yes, sir," Havoc grunted, saluting curtly before whirling out of the office. Mustang chuckled to himself before shaking his head.
"She's going to have to keep an eye on him, that's for sure," he thought, before returning to his papers.
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