Gunpowder

Disclaimer: I do not own Greed, Kimblee or any of FullMetal Alchemist.

Author's Note: This is the actual story. 'TIMID REVELATIONS' and 'BETRAYED' are side stories to this. BUT they do play a slight part in this. If you don't understand something, it might be from another of my one-shots. I'll tell you which one shot it is, though.

Warning: In this chapter? Maybe angst... Definately Kimblee's mind and language...probably a bit of yaoi towards the end... Hell, I don't know what else!

Kiddies, this is rated M for a reason. (Not this chapter but soon.)

He wanted a shower. God, did he want a shower. Clean water… Hell, even a river would do! After being locked up in prison for four or five years—he couldn't remember anymore—all he could think about was jumping into water, cleansing the dirt and grime from his hair, getting a damn shave and finally getting warm food in his belly!

Kimblee once again scratched at his clothing, the prison clothes painful to his sensitive skin. The chimeras that were in front of him were much cleaner, they were a specimen. Had to be kept healthy and clean. Greed, the homunculus who had recruited him, walked ahead of him, those leather pants sinfully tight.

When Greed had first introduced himself to Kimblee, the alchemist had been hesitant to even believe that he was a homunculus. But after Roa—Kimblee was sure that he'd never get on that chimera's bad side—knocked off Greed's head and it grew right back, he was more than convinced that he was now in company of many chimeras and a greedy homunculus.

They were headed to somewhere called Dublith. Kimblee was sure that he had heard about it somewhere before he had been thrown into prison. Martel, the snake chimera kept giving him dirty looks as he walked behind her. Greed suddenly stopped outside a bar, called the Devil's Nest.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I believe we have just found our new home."

(((( Downstairs: Basement Level ))))

"The Waterway is back there, you get shipments every two weeks on Tuesdays and the storage room is right there." The current manager of the Devil's Nest babbled on, looking increasingly more nervous by the second. Greed nodded, grinning as he looked around the bar.

"Alright, I can take this from your hands." The previous manager scampered off and Greed turned to Martel, Dorchette and Roa. "There's three rooms at the end of this hallway. Since you three I hold more in my favor, go take a room." He turned to the alchemist who was tearing off his prison shirt now that Martel and the rest were gone.

"And, Kimblee…" The alchemist looked up as he held his shirt in one hand. Greed's eyes raked over his lithe form, the bones peeking out sickly from his skin. "There's one room left. Get in the shower and I'll find you some clothes."

Greed pushed Kimblee into the last room and left quickly. Kimblee walked into the bathroom and at the sight of the shower, just about fell to his knees and thanked God. He stripped quickly and turned on the water, sliding it just as it heated up.

He sighed blissfully and ran his hands through his hair. The draining water turned brown as pieces of dirt and other unidentifiable objects slid down the drain. He picked up the bottle of soap and squirted it into his hair.

Fifteen minutes and six rinses later, Kimblee stepped out of the shower, clean-shaven and his hair a shining dark blue. Kimblee wrapped the towel around his waist and lifted up the set of clothes Greed had snuck in and sat down. A reddish suit with a black muscle shirt and a pair of boots. A pair of red silk boxers were there too and Kimblee happily threw those on, loving the feel of it against his skin.

He walked out a moment later, the jacket thrown over his shoulder as he collapsed upon the spare bed that was there. He had a feeling that this would be Greed's room and that Greed would want the big bed. He didn't really mind, this small bed was heaven compared to the wooden chair that he was forced to sit in, his hands shackled together with a wood block around them, keeping the tattoos from touching. Speaking of which…

Kimblee sat up and looked at his hands. The tattoos were still there but… he rubbed his hands. Combine prison conditions with sulfur and heat… His hands were painfully dry. He walked back into the bathroom and crouched down, finding a bottle of lotion some whore had probably left.

Lotion on hands or any other part of the body was normally a woman's thing. But when you had special hands like Kimblee's where they were succumbed to the harsh treatments of making bombs on contact, you had to be careful otherwise his palms themselves would catch on fire. It happened once and he didn't want it to happen again.

He sat on the bed and rubbed his hands together, feeling the twin tattoos reacting to each other. He yawned to himself and rolled over on the cot, throwing the jacket to the side. The door opened and he sat up, seeing a woman with straight auburn hair walk in, her head bowed. There was a bell around her neck attached to a black ribbon and she was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a red tanktop, her hair reaching her waist. She held a tray of tantalizing food and when she lifted her head, glowing golden eye with cat pupils greeted his vision.

"Are you Kimblee?" She asked, her voice rather musical as if she was once a great singer. Kimblee nodded and sat up, his chest exposed to her. Immediately she sat the food in front of him and pointed at it. "Eat boy! There ain't hardly any meat on your bones! You look thinner than a toothpick! Prison life ain't easy, I know, but EAT!" She shoved a piece of meat in front of him and he barely had time to give her an absurd look before he was eating the first homecooked meal he'd had in years.

"Excuse me, but who the hell are you?" Kimblee finally asked, wiping a piece of food from his lip with his thumb. He leaned back slightly and looked up at the female cat chimera.

"Tonya. I'm the cook upstairs at the bar. Greed told me there was a mighty hungry man down here who could use a good homecooked meal." Her southern accent got mighty think when she talked fast, Kimblee noted.

"Thanks… for the food." Tonya smiled and picked it up. Kimblee noticed as she left that there was a long, slightly bushy auburn tail wrapped around one of her legs loosely and that she had a pair of ears perched above her head in her hair.

He fell back upon the bed and closed his eyes, intending to get some sleep.

(((( LATER ))))

Sleep sucked.

After being in prison for years and sleeping on a hard, cold floor, one would think that he'd be more than happy to sleep on a nice bed without the fear of being raped by some lowly guard!

It was scary to admit, but the unusual softness of the spare bed he was in—now his and Greed's room—seemed so alien to how he was used to sleeping. He hated to admit it, but the cold, tone floor was more of a comfort than goose-down feathers and clean sheets.

Kimblee groaned and flipped over again, dangling a hand over the edge of the bed, growling softly at the clock that was on Greed's bedside table. Getting out of prison was a damn great relief but if it meant having to try and sleep in the goddamn unusual comfiness of his new home, he was going to fucking roll of the side of the bed and sleep on the floor!

The alchemist kicked off the sheet and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, the heat from his tattoos calming his nerves slightly. The natural heat that was emitted from his tattoos never failed to calm him and that was always a plus when it came to being naturally insane.

The homunculus that was asleep in the bed beside his, gave a slight jerk and Kimblee's golden eyes flickered over to him. Greed had showed up sometime in one of the bits that Kimblee had managed to get some sleep and had thrown the sheet over him.

Crimson sat up and pressed his hands against his face again, unused to being able to touch and calm himself. Hell, before prison he was never this insane! He had had his bouts of random craziness, but never like he is now. Five or so years in prison where he had to listen to the screams and all the other inhuman sounds… It definitely made him a basket-case.

He looked over at Greed who had kicked the sheet down to his waist and his chest was revealed. The shield was down so Kimblee had a smooth look at the homunculus's tanned skin. As his eyes raked over the other man's form he came to a realization that he had been in prison too long for other things…

Kimbleestood up and walked into the bathroom, the closing the door behind him as he splashed a bit of cold water onto his face. His golden eyes stared back at him and tired patches were under eyes that showed how much everything had finally taken his toll on him. He leaned against the sink, his hands gripping the porcelain tight, knuckles white. Another wrack of an unusual emotion wracked throughout his body and he turned off the light, walking out and leaning against the wall.

His eyes settled on the form of Greed and his eyes started to droop. Maybe he would finally get a good bit of sleep. He stumbled over to the cot and fell upon it. He'd thank Greed in the morning for rescuing him from the hideous LAB 5... Maybe even be nice about it. Might pledge his loyalty or something heroic like that.

Loyalty... That one word meant almost too much for Kimblee and only certain things could make him feel THAT nervous. But when loyalty was deserving... Kimblee gave the desired action and bowed his head, giving a string of loyalty tofeed the wolves as his father would have said.But, Greed, knowingly or unknowingly--whichever fit him better--had picked himself up a loyal comrade whether he wanted one or not. Zolof Kimblee wasn't just one to toss around trust--unless he was given a much better offer. Then the person who he would be betraying would be blown to shreds.

But... Kimblee shifted hooded eyes to the other bed. If I blew Greed up... Hell, he'd probably like it... The sick fuck... But Kimblee really had no say on THAT matter. He himself could be called many of names. Three of which he knew where completley true; He was clinically-proven to be insane (that could be said for anyone who met him), he was a sadist (you just had to be one if you went around blowing people up for fun!) and he was a masochist (hell, he loved pain as much as the next bomber).

His hooded eyes drooped even further and long eyelashes brushed over his high cheekbones as his breathing slowly shifted to a resting pace. His left hand unconsciously curled around a few of the dark blue strands that fell over his shoulder and his right hand rested under his head as a pillow.

Greed turned over in the bed and opened one glowing amethyst eye. He rubbed his chest slightly where the Red Stones had shifted slightly. He hated when they reacted to his or other unusual people's emotions. He flipped over on his side and yawned, that one eye still focused on Kimblee who was know asleep, little sounds of contentment escaping his throat.

The homunculus yawned again and slunk back under the silk covers, wondering what month it was and when the cold was going to hit... He finally just closed his eyes and with Kimblee's bare chest in mind, fell back into a dreamless sleep.

There's my first chapter of Gunpowder. Review please!