"Winter Slumber"
This one doesn't own FMA. So don't sue. Seriously.
Chapter 4: Oh, joy. Injuries.
Morning went fairly quickly for Marta; it wasn't until about noon that she had the chance to sit down. By then, almost everyone was gone. This time, it was her, Greed, Dorochet, and Roa. (Lord knows where the hell KIMBERLEY was…the bastard.) So anyway, she had just sat down for breakfast (yeah, she's eating it at NOON. Get over it.), when Dorochet and Roa sat down with her. She hadn't seen them at all since early that morning, so it surprised her a bit.
"Mornin'," said Dorochet cheerfully.
"It's a bit late for that, don't ya think?" Roa questioned which was ignored.
…Cricket, cricket…
"…He's right, you know…" Marta said quietly.
"What'd you say?" asked Dorochet.
"I SAID HE WAS RIGHT, DAMMIT!"
"Geez, stop freaking out…" Roa scorned.
"Hey Marta…" - Dorochet
"Yeah?"
"Since it's just us, could you cook something up?"
She stared at the dog chimaera in disbelief. He was kidding, right?
"No, seriously! Please make something for us!"
"Like what?"
"Pancakes!" he exclaimed gleefully.
"What, waffles aren't good enough?" said Roa mournfully.
"I can cook both." She said simply.
"Really!" they almost-yelled in creepily perfect harmony.
"Yes…" she said, trailing off.
"Yay!" Dorochet squealed happily.
"Victory!" said Roa, making a pose Armstrong would've been proud of. In fact, if you looked closely, you could see tiny, blue sparkles around the both of them. Freaks.
About an hour later, Marta had just started cooking the pancakes. The waffles had yet to be cooked, as someone had made off with the batter. (Dorochet stole it out of spite.) She'd have to start over, but that'd be later. As she flipped the pancakes, she wondered why she hadn't avoided this; her food was like faerie food- it was strangely addictive. She didn't want to be cooking all day for the rest of her life.
"Marta, I'm huuuuuuuuuungry…" whined Dorochet.
"Well, maybe if someone hadn't viciously destroyed my waffle batter, you'd have something to eat right now," rebuked Marta. He then let out a dog-like whimper. "That isn't going to work, Dorochet. You'll just have to wait."
A little while later, they had almost finished eating the pancakes, when Dorochet said, "Hey, where's Greed? I haven't seen him since this morning." Marta blushed at this question and tried not to listen. Didn't work, of course.
"Speaking of which, what happened between you guys? I've never seen him act like that. Ever." Marta blushed even redder.
"Ah… I don't really know why he did that…" she said truthfully. She seriously had no idea what the hell Greed was up to.
"Really? I thought it was pretty obvious…" said a surprised Roa.
"What? What was?"
"Aww, it's so cute that you're oblivious…" said Dorochet teasingly. "Even if it is painfully obvious!"
"What? What? Tell me!"
"He loves you," stated Roa, smiling.
Marta sat there, dumbstruck. Greed…loves me?
"ERROR! ERROR! DOES NOT COMPUTE! SYSTEM OVERLOAD!" basically described her current state of mind. Let's take a peek into her thoughts, shall we?
Greed loves me? Of all people he could've picked, he chose me? What the hell! said the part of her that was angry.
Actually, that makes sense, in a cruel, demented way. Why else would he be doing what he's doing? said the only part that was sane at the moment.
Because he's a jerk…
Well, there is that…
See! For all I know, he could be trying to play some mean, sickening joke on me!
Or Roa could be telling the truth. said the small voice in the back of her head. Besides, shouldn't you be happy about this? It sounded hopeful as it that, but her emotions were too confusing for mind to analyze that thought at the time.
She was silent for a few minutes, during which an impatient Dorochet was dragged away by Roa. (He wanted to see what happened when Marta realized what they just said, so he was poking her in hopes the process would quicken. Freak.)
As it turned out, Greed just slept in. Not surprising, really, if you think about it… Well anyway, he woke up, got dressed, and went to where Marta was sitting. She remained quiet and unresponsive, still trying to figure out what the hell just happened. He looked at the remnants of the pancakes. Marta's pancakes were almost completely untouched, so he just grabbed one and ate it. Yum. Now, it was good- scratch that, great- but even that didn't satisfy his avarice. Then he bent over as if he was bowing, which wasn't his true intention. He grew closer and closer to her, until finally, he planted his lips on hers.
That woke her up pretty quick.
The impact of the simple kiss caused her to fall out of her chair, managing to splutter out, "Whuh-what was that! W-Why the hell--!"
"I was comparing tastes," he replied, smirking haughtily. "Your pancakes didn't have a chance. Nice try, though."
"Why, you-" She was cut off by a cough that suddenly needed to fly out of her mouth. She sat up instantly, trying to relieve the coughing that plagued her. Greed frowned slightly; didn't he tell her to be careful? He was relieved when she finally stopped.
"What, did you choke on your own spit or something?" he asked as he helped her up. Marta gave him a long, hard stare.
"Ya know Greed, sometimes I wonder why I decided to come here. I mean, if I knew I had to put up with this, I might've tried to make it on my own." Marta said coldly. Then she walked swiftly to the empty room and closed the door. She was going to fell bad about this later, but he needed to back off. She didn't love him in that way.
…besides, she could always apologize later, right?
About half an hour later, Marta decided to check if anyone came back yet. Peeking outside, she saw that a lot of the Devil's Nest's residents had returned. Good, now there's less of a chance for Greed to try something. Then she felt that familiar itch in her throat, and began to cough violently. Damn, when did it become so hard to breathe? she thought as the coughing subsided. She decided to take a shower, as she didn't have time to this morning and the heat would make her throat feel better.
Grabbing her toiletries, she walked to the bathroom, undressed, and showered, being careful not to sing, lest she be embarrassed yet again. She dried off and wrapped her towel around herself. Looking to the sink, she saw her clothes were there. She breathed a sigh of relief, but that was cut off by another coughing fit, this one worse than the other ones. Dammit, that shower was supposed to help, not make it worse! she thought, shaking violently from both the coughing and the cold. She staggered to the sinks, trying to hold herself steady. But the bathroom tile betrayed her yet again, making her slip and hitting the back of her head on the counter's edge.
Biting her tongue to hold off the strings of curses, she tried to stand again. Her attempt failed miserably, however, as she slipped again halfway up, hitting her head again on the counter, then again as she hit the floor. To put it simply, the amount of pain going through head knocked her out. Ouch.
When she awoke, she found that she was dressed and in bead. But not just any bed- Greed's bed. She blushed and looked around wildly. No one else was there, thank God. Then she realized there was a throbbing pain in the back of her head.
"Ouch…" she muttered to no one in particular. But then a terrifying thought struck: Who had dressed her? She paled, straining to remember who was there when she blacked out. …I think there were women here… she thought. …I heard them while I was in the shower. She calmed slightly, realizing the chance of being seen naked by Greed- or any man for that matter- had slimmed considerably. Surely, they'd tried to protect what was left of her dignity? She closed her eyes and thought about that. Yes, they would understand… Now, on to more pressing matters, such as "Why the hell am I in Greed's bed?" As I've said before, the world would end before Greed would share his bed with ANYONE. EVER.
But… he had been acting strange lately… Perhaps he consented if asked, or even worse, volunteered to lend his mattress to the ailing Marta. Fuming, she ripped off the covers and walked to the door. He wasn't going to escape this time.
Ya know, it's a bit unfortunate that the door was locked from the other side.
Rattling the doorknob, she yelled "Hey! Open the frickin' door!"
"No can do, Marta," came the answer. Twas Greed, of course.
"What? Why the hell not?" Marta's screech was answered with Greed ripping the door open and pulling her toward himself, wrapping her in a protective embrace.
"Because," he said quietly. "I don't want you to get hurt again." He released her, but he did it reluctantly, pouting like a spoiled child as he did so. Surprisingly, Marta didn't blush as badly as she thought she did.
Clapping his hands together, Greed then said "Well, then… Now that that's over with…" He proceeded to throw her onto his shoulder, walk over to the mattress and "place" her (more like threw) onto it. Then he tucked her in, nearly suffocating her with the covers. Marta opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything, Greed said "Stay there. You have to rest." And then he left, closing the door behind him.
Marta sighed in frustration; she knew she wasn't going to win. He was too stubborn. And with that in mind, she drifted off to sleep.
