A/N: Glah, I don't have a very good excuse for not updating this lately. Would "I'm in YYH mode" be sufficient? lol But dun worry, I'm slipping back into an FMA mode slowly, but surely, and I have this piece to thank. Inspired by the SxL community's monthly challenge, in which the prompt "rain" was served up, I took the order and whipped up something I'm quite proud of. I hope you like this, everybody!

Dedication: To Fey - Happy birthday! Thanks for being so supportive, helpful, and loving, my dear!

Unable

It was late that night, a distant thunder rumbling to the west as he roamed the abandoned streets aimlessly. No alchemists were out at this time of night, so he didn't feel it necessary just yet to try and sleep, even though the nagging need to do so was pestering him in the back of his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was waiting in the shadows for him, as if to pounce in the moment he wasn't prepared for an assault of any kind. Every now and then, he did encounter a random thug that would try to rob him of that which he didn't have, but he would quickly do away with them by making use of the brick buildings in the city. As of that night, no more petty thieves had attempted the impossible. He supposed that word got around, and therefore they decided to leave him alone.

But this feeling in the pit of his stomach was different. He felt like he was a helpless little mouse that was steadily creeping into the ever-watchful gaze of a nearby cat looking for a midnight meal. Normally, he never felt such a well concealed panic, having the build that one would fear and run away from, but it seemed like he was a tiny, defenseless child again; one in need of protection and comfort as he walked alone at night...

To keep his thoughts occupied, he quickly chided himself of his idiocy and strode on through the empty streets, hands tucked in his pockets as he came to walk past a familiar little flower shop at the corner of a dark alley. He passed it every day in his wanderings, so it wasn't anything new to behold, however there was a simple vase sitting outside with a few stemmed roses emerging from the decorative urn. The florist usually brought all of her flowers inside at the end of the day, but he easily assumed that she must have forgotten to take them back into the small shop for the night. So with a seemingly ignorant expression on his face, he walked on by as if he hadn't seen them, stepping off of the sidewalk and onto the stone street of the alley.

"I would think a wanted man would stay in the shadows to protect himself, but you must be trying to make a statement, Scarred One."

He stopped in mid-stride and didn't turn to look upon the creature that bore his childhood adoration's face. Instead, he glared hard at the path in front of him and spoke in a dark tone meant to show that he cared nothing for her presence. "It's no different than a demon walking among angels - this you should know for yourself, no doubt."

She chuckled softly and walked out of the shadows, her heeled boots clopping on the stone ground alerting him that she was coming closer. Out of his peripheral vision, he caught the glimpse of her nearly perfect body; her tight-fitting black dress hugging every curve almost too much for his sinful enough mind to comprehend, and long raven tresses covering her left eye so that she could gaze upon him in the most enticing manner she knew. She had her ways of seducing that which she longed to have, but he was almost literally a stone wall, and there was no convincing him to fall into her trap.

"Are you comparing us to the world, or the world to us?" she asked him, voice silkily smooth to his senses.

Finally, he turned his head to look at her, seeing that confident smirk from the library form on her features. Maintaining his cold stare, he replied. "You can decide that for yourself. But if you must know, you and I are practically seen as servants of the Devil, so we should both be put to death for our sins."

"How can a Sin die, Scarred One?" she urged, as if to claw out the nasty things he could say before she would try to snatch her prey. There was something much more intriguing about this man than the others she had convinced with her seductive smile - he had a part of her that no one else did, and she wanted that just as badly as she wanted him.

"By facing the truth..." he started, reaching into his pocket to pull out the pendant that hung loosely on a piece of twine. "...And repenting of your iniquities."

When the object came into view, she froze, a severe pain forcing her legs to stiffen and lock in place. She couldn't breathe, defend herself, or even twitch her finger - the predator had now become the prey. As she watched him come closer, the necklace swaying back and forth as he approached, she could feel her heart bang and pump wildly inside her chest, as if to try and escape from her threatening fate. That look in his eyes made her feel fear for the first time since she met Dante, that despicable woman that raised her into this being that killed and persuaded others simply to gain information for a legend turned reality. Dante had wanted her to go after the Scarred One specifically in an attempt to get the knowledge they required, but that wasn't what his brother's creation wanted anymore.

She wanted herself, and he had it. He had more than just the secrets of the Stone - he had her past and now her future in his grasp.

"I know seeing this makes you weak." he stated clearly, that fiery red gleam of his eyes now dull and blending with the nighttime scheme. If she didn't already know it for herself, she would have thought that he was a servant of the Devil after all. "It has a part of what you were before, and because you can't handle that, you cannot handle the truth of your dark deeds."

"So you'll kill me, then?" she barely managed to say, vocal chords straining under this paralyzing pain in her once immortal-like body.

"If I so choose to."

"Then do it."

Slightly irritated by her attempt at ordering him to do away with her, his glare intensified, and as he raised the sleeve covering his right arm, the tattoo marks made her heartbeat jump. Complex and horrifying at the same time, she inwardly braced herself for the fate that was undoubtedly coming. But if she was to die, she would rather it be at his hand than another's. She felt it appropriate that one sinner would take the life of another, as if to repay some sort of sinful debt. He would kill her in return for being free of her familiar face, and she would finally be at peace, no matter what sort of death she endured.

Raising his hand to plant on her forehead, he let his fingernails touch her silky bangs, the fine strands barely making his senses reel, but the sensation was just enough to snag his attention. To his surprise, the look in her eyes was not one of absolute fear or hatred, but was instead of gratitude, as if she seemed glad that he was paying her such a compliment as death by his hand. Her mauve colored gems were so soft he began to believe they were a glowing form of velvet, begging for him to reach out and touch them... to claim them. His first instinct was that she was again trying to capture him in her needy clutches, but the way her eyes stared at him told him otherwise. Her actions were in no way catty or vicious, much less desiring.

She was acting sincere and humble like the woman he knew before.

And suddenly, he found that he was incapable of carrying out the task she had told him to do, his hand quickly moving from her forehead to grasp itself behind her neck, bringing her against him for a moment. The lightning flashed in the midnight sky, illuminating their dark frames against the charcoal canvas of the brick building they hid behind, and as soon as the thunder rumbled throughout the city, a gentle, but still strong rain followed. Each droplet soaked into her black hair, the wet strands clinging to her pale face that was being kissed fervently by the man she thought surely would kill her that night, but instead, she found herself in his arms, lips touching for those blissful moments in time before the chilling wind of the storm forced them to part.

As the rain fell and cascaded down from the sky, he tucked the necklace back into his pocket, turned on his heel then spoke before walking away. "I am unable to kill those that are already dead, so I will not be the one to pass judgment on you this night."

Then he strode forward, rounded the corner he originally came from and disappeared out of sight. But just a second after he faded into the night, something long and thin fell onto the wet ground at the end of the alley. Once she remembered how to breathe and walk, she cautiously walked towards the mysterious object, then looked closer at its delicate frame; it was a long-stemmed rose. The petals were a deep red, she could tell, but in the picturesque setting, they seemed black, and she felt it was all the more fitting for a sinner such as herself.

Taking the rose in her gloved hand, she smiled into the raining night, and walked in the opposite direction of the Scarred Man she knew held her essence. As he carried her existence, she let the rose, now soaked by the rain represent the forsaken, yet mutual love she felt they now shared.

A kiss in the rain was more than a gesture of good will to her – it was a sign meant to say that he could never kill her.

A/N: -drool- SxL kiss in the rain - ya gotta love it, kids! And how about that? He didn't kill her! Woot! Scar's such a softie and he knows it! So if you liked this, do leave a review. If you somehow didn't, and only wanna flame my favorite FMA pair, away with ye! Thanks for your time and support, all!

47th Light