She sat on the other side of the small table, watching as the older man poured some warm tea for her into what looked like some very fine china. She glanced over at the door, where two very intimidating guards were watching her every move. Breda had been told to wait outside until Bradley had finished speaking to her. Her hands were still in the wooden cuffs, which made it a bit difficult to reach for the tea, but she managed.

"I hope you like raspberry." He said, "This is a very sweet blend, and many of my guests seem to enjoy it."

"Thank you." She carefully moved her hands to bring it to her mouth, wincing a little when it burned her tongue at first, but it was still a bit sweet, so it wasn't so bad. However, the cuffs were a little too hindering for her to really enjoy any of it. She didn't reach for it again, "So… is there a reason you decided to pull me out of the prison cell?"

"Yes." He looked at her, "I understand you managed to find a way into the barracks through means of alchemy, and a rather interesting one, from what I've heard."

"I guess." She shrugged.

"I'd like to make you an offer," He leaned forward a little in his seat, "We have a program in this country that takes in local alchemists as part of the military. In return for providing the state with their research findings, every alchemist is given a rather hefty research fund to do with as they please, as well as have access to exclusive libraries of materials that are only available to state certified alchemists."

"Okay." She nodded. She got a little bit uninterested when he mentioned the part about her joining the military, but she wasn't about to say anything about it.

"Now, how much alchemy training do you have?" He asked.

"…Like, next to none." Pretty much none, but apparently alchemical knowledge held something here and she wasn't about to say she didn't know jack. Katie wasn't here to explain anything to her, so she'd have to figure it out on her own. Hopefully.

He nodded, quiet for a moment, "Miss Seymour, do you know the penalty for trespassing on military property?" She shook her head, "It's ten years in prison."

"Ten years?!" Her eyes widened. Ten years seemed a little harsh for trespassing! "What if someone got onto military property by accident?"

"They would still get ten years. 8 if they got out on good behavior." He said coolly, as if there was nothing to sentencing someone for ten years. She slumped back in her seat. She was going to be in prison for ten years. "This would be your sentence, if you choose not to accept." She looked up at him, "If you decide to take the exam, you can have one year to study in preparation for it, perfecting your alchemical skill. We already had the exam a month ago, and I don't think it's fair to the incoming candidates to have you take it ahead of them." He smiled, "I'll have you set up with an alchemical master to help educate you, as well as keep an eye on you since he will be a state-certified alchemist. All in all, I think it's a good opportunity, jail sentence or not."

"Uh… yeah, sure. That sounds pretty good." She replied. "Who would be my teacher?"

"I'll have to look for volunteers. Since Central is the hub of activity in Amestris, I'm sure we'll find someone." Bradley replied, "So, what do you think? Do you want to try this little route?"

"Yeah! Yes, absolutely." She said quickly. Even if she got some time out of the prison cell, even if it was just going in and out for one year, it was better than staying in one all day every day for 10 years.

"Excellent. I'll send out a notice to all available alchemists and we'll find you a teacher."

"Sir, this just came to you from the Fuhrer's office." Riza said, holding out the envelope. Mustang took it, opening it up and glancing over the letter that had been written, and he smirked. "Something funny, sir?"

"It seems the little trespasser from yesterday managed to cut herself a deal." He replied, folding up the letter, "His Excellency is calling on all available alchemists in Central to volunteer themselves to be a year-long tutor for her. Apparently they're going to get a rather big bonus in return for it."

"Are you going to apply, sir?" Riza asked.

"Hell no. I'm not going to teach alchemy to anyone if I can help it." He said, tossing the letter into his waste basket, "He only needs one tutor, and I'm not about to ask to join in. That would be better suited to Fullmetal."

Riza held out a second envelope, "Here's Edward's notice, sir. They thought it best for me to ask you to deliver it rather than deliver it themselves."

"Probably for the better. It'd just fill up his mailbox." He took the letter from her, glancing up as the door opened to see a blonde head of hair walking in, "And speak of the devil."

"Good morning to you, too, Colonel Bastard." Ed said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, tossing a small pile of papers onto his desk, "There's my report from my visit to the west."

"Anything good?" Mustang asked as he glanced over the papers.

"Not a damn thing." He turned around, "Bye."

"Hold on, Fullmetal." Roy watched as Ed stopped and glared over his shoulder at Mustang, clearly not in the mood to listen to whatever it was he had to say. He held up the envelope that Riza had given him, "Here, something for you to consider." The teenager raised a curious eyebrow as he walked over to take it, ripping it open and glancing over it. "Obviously, it's a voluntary position, so it's not mandatory, but it is recommended."

Edward scoffed, "Forget that, Al and I travel too much to take on an extra assignment, much less look after some girl."

"I'll be sure to inform His Excellency of your decision, then." Roy replied, and Edward turned and walked back out of the office and into the hallway where his brother waited for him.

Amelia had been returned to her prison cell after meeting with Fuhrer Bradley last night. The cuffs were removed, and the cell was just as boring as she remembered it. After a while, she had grown tired and gone to bed and Breda had decided to enjoy himself with some solitaire. When she woke up, she heard the sound of metal scraping across concrete, someone saying "Breakfast." and she looked to see that some food had been delivered. There was also another guard present, one that she didn't recognize. He didn't seem interested in her as she got up and went over to where the tray had slid in through the door. It was hardly what she would call breakfast – a tin can of water, a lump of bread, and something that she guessed was gruel – but she wasn't about to completely disregard the food that she had been given. She ate quietly, munching on the bread and putting bits of gruel in between bites. She couldn't help grimacing a little as she ate it. It was all so bland.

She looked up at the guard, "So, what's your name?"

He didn't respond.

She furrowed her brows slightly, "Uh, do you know anything about how that deal I made is coming along?"

Again, he didn't respond.

"You know, it would be nice if I could get a little feedback."

Silence.

She sighed, "Whatever, be a stick in the mud, then." She kept munching on her breakfast, one hand going up to her neck. She had gotten a bad crick from sleeping on a wooden bed, and she was looking forward to when she would get out of here. She hoped that at least one alchemist would approach for the job… but what if no one did? The more she thought on it, the more she thought that no one would take it. They were basically signing up to be a teacher for a prisoner. And even then, that didn't mean that she would be able to leave the prison cell she was in, she'd probably stay there, studying alchemy, for an entire year.

The thought wasn't a great one, but she tried to stay optimistic. Surely there would be at least one person who would do it, and even if she didn't get out of the cell, she would have material to study and go over so she wouldn't be completely bored. Hopefully.

She finished her breakfast sooner than she thought she would. She put her spoon in the little cup and brought the tray over to the guard by the door, knocking it against the bars to get his attention. "Hey, I'm done with this. Do I give it to you?"

He was still silent.

She glared at him, "Dude, come on. At least tell me if I can keep this thing or not. I know you've got a duty as a guard or whatever, but you're potentially giving me a weapon here." She knocked the edge of the tray against the bars again, "Seriously, if you opened this door, I could whack you on the head with this until you passed out."

That got his attention. For the first time, the guard moved over to the front of the prison door and held out his hand. She couldn't really give him the entire tray with everything on it, but she managed to give him the cup, the plate, and the spoon through the bars before sliding the tray through as well. The guard tucked it under his arm, and then left it to rest on the table that Breda had been using before to practice his card game. Now there was nothing more for her to do. She let out a sigh and went back to the wooden bed, laying down and staring at the ceiling, trying to think of some way to pass the time until she heard about someone coming to teach her.

Three hours had passed, and Amelia was immensely enjoying herself. The guard looked like he was about to bust a blood vessel. For the last hour she had been slowly making popping sounds with her mouth. The first time she did it, it was just out of boredom, and then she saw him flinch. She found it to be particularly sadistic, but she was having fun. She saw his tension growing with each passing second that she didn't make the noise, and she tested it. He seemed to relax after a minute of silence, and then she did it again. She was driving him up the wall, but because he had apparently taken it upon himself to be more of a statue than an actual guard, he hadn't said anything, hadn't moved, there was nothing he could do to stop her.

The door opened and a familiar head of blonde hair came in carrying a tray of food, announcing, "Lunch."

"Oh, thank God!" The soldier let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly slumping as he walked out of the hall. Havoc came up to the door, quirking a curious eyebrow as he held out the tray of food to Amelia. It was the same basic meal as breakfast, only instead of gruel, it looked like some kind of soup.

"What was that about?" He asked as the door slammed shut.

"Just having a bit of fun." Amelia replied as she took the tray from him, heading over to the wooden cot and sitting down before she started to eat. Through a mouthful of bread she asked, "I thought the bet was only for yesterday."

"Nah, it was for the whole week. High stakes." Havoc replied, taking the seat that the last guard had left. "So, what did you do?"

"I might have tortured him a little." She swallowed down her bite of bread and smiled at him mischievously.

Havoc chuckled, "How cruel. What kind of torture?" Amelia mimicked the popping sound she had made for him. "That's it?"

"Did it for three hours straight."

Havoc hissed through his teeth, "Damn. I couldn't take that. And Johnson was so nervous about his shift, too."

"Is that his name? He didn't say a word to me."

Havoc shrugged, "Technically we're not supposed to, but it gets boring here and prisoners are bound to say something. No one really cares for that particular rule."

Amelia nodded, taking a couple more bites of soup-flavored bread before speaking up again, "So, is there any word on the teacher thing?"

Havoc's grin grew, "I haven't heard anything."

Amelia turned to him, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, "Then why are you smiling?"

"Because everyone in Central Command is talking about it. Lots of the alchemists here aren't interested in taking on a pupil. I know my boss isn't."

"Your boss is an alchemist?" Her eyes widened, her thoughts immediately going to the Fuhrer. If he had alchemic skill, would he be her default teacher?

Havoc nodded, "Yeah, Colonel Roy Mustang." Oh, so it wasn't him. "He's a rather famous guy around here, but it's not surprising that he didn't take up the offer."

"Why not?"

"Flame alchemy is dangerous, and he's not going to start teaching that to you any time soon."

Amelia let out a groan, "Is there anybody that wants to take it?"

Havoc shrugged, "I wouldn't know, but I'm sure there's at least one."

"Great." She let out a sigh, laying back on the floor, munching on her food, "So, anymore weird stories you got to pass the time?"

"I actually did a little research on weird stories to find one that would make you lose your shit."

Amelia sat back up, "And I'm officially interested."

Fuhrer Bradley went over the different candidates that had submitted themselves for the opportunity he had posed. Many of them weren't potential sacrifices, it wasn't any real loss, and he doubted their alchemical skill would be able to get Amelia's up high enough to make her one of them. He had hoped at least Mustang would have been interested, but he had outright declined with no explanation. At the very least, their military could use a second Flame Alchemist.

He kept looking through the submissions, until one caught his eye. It was one he hadn't really expected to see, but now that he was looking at it… This actually had some potential. This alchemist hardly had the drive to even consider opening the gate, but he certainly had the sentimentality for it. Perhaps he could pass that on to her, and that would definitely be useful to them. He made sure to keep the submission to the side, in case there was anyone that could be a better option. He had to be thorough with this after all. An alchemist capable of teleportation is an impressive feat. She could easily become a sacrifice, if pushed in the right direction.

"God, you're so gross!" Amelia cackled in her prison cell, while Havoc just sat back grinning proudly. "That's nasty! How the hell does that even happen?"
"That's the mystery of the whole thing." He shrugged.

"Ew!" Amelia kept laughing, rolling onto her back on the floor. "Oh, you're disgusting. How the hell do you have a girlfriend?"

"Because my girlfriend is amazing!" Havoc said, gushing a little bit.

"Your girlfriend has incredible patience, that's what it is." Amelia said, sitting up again. "Now it's my turn. I think I said the next story was about the peeper stupid enough to get crushed by a bathtub, right?"

"Oh, God." Havoc sighed. "Alright, do your worst."

"Okay," Amelia sat up straight, "So, the story goes like this: There was this guy that owned this really crappy but really cheap apartment building—" She was cut off when the door opened and the soldier from earlier walked in. "Back already?" She asked with a smirk, making that popping sound again. He visibly winced and she snickered.

"Your release has been set." Johnson said, "The Fuhrer has appointed an alchemy teacher for you."

"Really?!" Amelia immediately jumped up, grabbing the bars of her door, glad to finally get out of prison, in a surprisingly short amount of time, "Who?"

"Major Armstrong: The Strong Arm Alchemist."

Havoc hissed through his teeth sympathetically, "Ooh, tough break."

"What?" Amelia turned to him, "Why? What's wrong with him? Is he bad?"

"No, he's not a bad alchemist." Havoc got up from his seat, picking some keys off of his belt to unlock her door, "He's actually one of the strongest alchemists we have in Central."

"So… I don't get it. What's the issue?"

He chuckled, "You'll find out." He unlocked the door and she followed him out. Before she was released from the actual prison, they of course put handcuffs on her as they walked out. They passed few a through halls that were empty save for a few open offices. When she glanced in, she only saw people in military uniforms working their desk jobs. It wasn't really anything worth looking at.

When they got outside, three people met them. One was the Fuhrer, another was Hughes, and the other was the tallest, beefiest man she had ever seen, who also had the shiniest bald head, too, save for a single golden curl. She was actually a bit terrified by the sight of him and ended up shuffling along behind Havoc.

"I'm sure you're glad to be out in the sunshine again, Miss Seymour." The Fuhrer said with a smile.
"Yeah." She said, glancing between the three of them, unable to help feeling a little bit like a Chihuahua among Dobermans as she looked up at the country's leader, and then this gigantic mass of muscle that was looming over all of them. "So, uh… you found someone to teach me…?" She knew in all likelihood it was the big, bald guy, but she prayed that it wasn't.

"Yes, this was the best candidate available." He gestured to the big man, who saluted proudly, "Meet Major Alex Louis Armstrong, the Strong Arm Alchemist. He is fiercely loyal to his nation, with great alchemical skill. I thought he would be an excellent teacher."

"Uh… nice to meet you." She said, still a bit wary as she held out her hand.

He held out his own hand, which seemed massive in comparison to hers, and shook it with a surprisingly gentle grip. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Seymour."

"The Armstrong family has been known for their generations of loyal soldiers for the Amestrian military. Because of this, you're being moved from your prison cell into the Armstrong estate." The Fuhrer explained, "So you won't have to suffer through a prison cell for the next year."

"Oh." She smiled a bit, well that was a comforting thought. To be able to sleep in a comfortable bed rather than some crappy excuse for a wooden cot. "That'll be nice."

The Fuhrer nodded. "He was most enthusiastic about teaching you, so I'm sure your lessons will go swimmingly."

Amelia nodded, looking up at the massive amount of what was undoubtedly muscle underneath that uniform and smiled, "I, uh, I look forward to learning from you." She said, trying to be polite and not show any signs of ungratefulness.

He seemed to take it pretty well, because in response, he moved both of his giant hands down, his arms wrapping around her and picking her up off the ground. She felt her feet leave the ground. They were actually kicking in the air as he held her up. "I FEEL SO HONORED TO BE A PART OF YOUR FINER UNDERSTANDING OF THE MAGNIFICENT ART OF ALCHEMY! I CAN ONLY HOPE THAT I CAN HELP TO EDUCATE YOU IN A WAY THAT WILL HELP YOU TO SERVE OUR STATE GRACEFULLY AND LOYALLY, SHAPING YOUR FINE CAREER AS A CERTIFIED ALCHEMIST! I FEEL SO MOVED TO BE REWARDED WITH THIS WONDERFUL OPPORTUNITY!"

"Jesus Christ!" She squirmed in his arms, his muscles squeezing tightly around her, her legs kicking back and forth as she tried to get out of it, but he didn't let go.

"FEEL THESE MUSCLES, HOW THEY PULSE WITH INTELLECT AND GRACE! THIS TRULY ELEGANT TECHNIQUE FOR INSPIRING GREATNESS IN LEARNING ALCHEMISTS HAS BEEN PASSED DOWN THE ARMSTRONG LINE FOR GENERATIONS!"

"You're crushing me!" She shouted, and the large man instantly dropped her. She landed with a grunt, falling back on her rear. She stared up at him, obviously a little bit terrified. She moved her head back to look up at Havoc, who was barely holding in his laughter by stifling it with his hand. She saw Hughes was smiling, but he seemed to have it a bit more under control. And at the stoic, yet smiling, Fuhrer. "Are you sure there's no one else?"

The mustachioed leader only smiled, "He's a little eccentric, but he will be an excellent tutor for you."

Looks like she had no choice in the matter then. Amelia let out a resigned sigh and pushed herself to her feet. "Great."

"And don't think you'll be able to get away with just the Armstrong family." Hughes spoke up, "I'll be checking in on you every now and again, to see how you're progressing, as well as make sure you're not planning any escape routes."

"Awesome." She stood up, letting out another small huff. She looked down at her hands, which were still contained in her cuffs, "Do I at least get to take these off sometime soon?"

"When we arrive at the estate, you will be allowed to remove them." Armstrong spoke, "And then we shall begin your first day of lessons, after gathering all the necessary materials, of course."

"Right." She gestured for him to walk out in front of her, "Well, please lead the way."