"Winter Slumber"
Seriously, I don't own FMA.
Chapter 3: Yet another Rude Awakening
For the second time this week, Marta awoke to find herself in the arms of a certain protective sin. But today was different, as she didn't realize where she was right away. Let's watch, shall we? (Why yes, I do have a demented sense of humor! Thank you for noticing!)
Cold, Marta thought, shivering. She felt around for a minute until she found a source of heat. She grinned crazily and inched towards the warmth. It seemed to notice her presence, however, and wrapped itself around her, filling her with a nice, soft feeling inside. She loved that feeling. It made her feel safe and protected, and never would she would she leave it, even if she had to…
Marta's eyes snapped open. Where was she? She was in her sleeping bag… which means the plan worked! Yes! Now, she…
…realized she was being smothered by Greed. Again.
How did he get in the effing sleeping bag? I mean, it can barely fit me, let alone me and him…
Blink, blink.
Me and him.
Him and me.
Us.
Together.
In the same sleeping bad.
NO ONE ELSE.
And for the second time that week, she put her Christmas present to shame, which she just happened to be wearing under her tank top and sweat pants.
Blink, blink.
"SHIT!" came Marta's spastic screech as she scrambled to get out of the tiny sleeping compartment. Well, she tried anyway, but Greed clung to her. Not even a crowbar could pry him off her now. And Marta's squirming didn't help much; it just caused Greed to turn so that he was facing the ceiling. That meant Marta was on top of him.
Why, God, why! thought Marta as she got an arm free from Greed's death-grip. Suddenly the doorknob began to rattle.
"Marta! Marta, are you alright!" She froze. Was that… Dorochet?
"I'm fine! I just dropped something!" said Marta, laughing nervously.
"Do you need help?" He started to open the door…
"No, that's okay!" She stretched her free arm to keep the door shut. Right now, she was very glad she was a snake chimaera; rubber-like limbs were a good advantage at the moment. If Dorochet ever saw what was happening, she'd be hearing about it for the rest of her life. Her mind racing, she tried to think of a way out of Greed's deadly grasp.
Groan… She was going to regret this later. Slowly and carefully, she eased her legs into his grip. Then she swiftly pulled them out her sweatpants, leaving Greed with the pants and her with her lacey red panties. Knowing that Dorochet would open the door anyway, she walked to it, care fully hiding her bare legs, and gently opened it. Dorochet was still there.
"What are you still standing there, Dorochet? I'm fine!"
"No, you're not! Your face looks flushed! You sure you're not sick or anything?" Marta sighed inwardly. He's really stubborn, isn't he?
"Look, I'm fine, okay? Nothing's wrong with me."
"Can I at least check your temperature to be sure?"
"Fine…" Dorochet reached his hand out to her, ever so slowly, until he was nearly touching her forehead. He never did reach it. From behind Marta, a certain someone's ouroburos-marked hand shot out and nearly crushed Dorochet's. Take a wild guess at who it was.
In his entire life, Greed had never felt a more powerful emotion than the one flowing through his veins. It was as if his very blood was on fire. (Aww…Greed's jealous.) He had to restrain himself from brutally killing Dorochet right on the spot, and his mind was screaming horrible obscenities. He forced himself to say "What are you doing?" instead of "GET AWAY FROM HER, ASSHOLE!"
"Ah! Greed, w-what were you doing back there?" Dorochet stuttered. (Hey, you'd stutter too if your hand was being crushed.)
"That's not the point? What were you doing?"
"I was about to check her temperature, but--!"
"You weren't doing it properly," interrupted Greed. "This is how you should do it." He forcefully spun Marta around so that she was facing him.
What the hell does he think he's doing! thought Dorochet. He's going to get himself KILLED! Marta did indeed look quite murderous. In fact, she was instinctively reaching for her knives right this minute. Too bad they weren't there.
If Greed wasn't Greed, he'd be dead meat.
Marta didn't even bother to escape; she was doomed anyway. Besides, he was just checking her temperature, right? He put his hand on his forehead. Okay, he's just seeing what the norm is…Nothing unusual, thinks a relieved Marta.
Unfortunately, her relief evaporated almost instantly when he placed his lips on her forehead. Dorochet just stood there, gawking in horror. Marta felt as if every muscle in her body had been paralyzed. No one moved for a few seconds, until Roa came to see why everyone was standing around. As his face turned stoic, you could tell that he was trying – and failing- to hide his amazement.
"Oh, for the love of… Dorochet, you idiot! Stop staring!" scorned Roa as he dragged him away from the door. As the door was closed, Marta could hear Dorochet whining about missing a freakin' miracle. (Sorry, Domenic! I had to steal that! It was too perfect not to use!) Miracle, my ass, she thought as Greed removed himself from her head.
"What was that for, Greed!" Marta almost screamed.
"I was checking your temperature," said Greed, smirking. "And speaking of which, you have a slight fever."
"So what! That doesn't mean I'm sick or anything!"
"You're right. It doesn't. But…" He leaned closer until he was half an inch from her face. "…that doesn't mean you should take it lightly." He started to walk to the door. "Oh. By the way…"
"What?" she spat venomously.
"Nice underwear."
Flushing, Marta's mind screamed, Dammit, I knew I was going to regret that! Greed left and pretended nothing happened.
"GREED, YOU SUCK!" came Marta's anger-filled screech.
"I know," he said, smiling.
