When the first shots were heard, the blonde boy merely picked Blayne up and carried her outside, despite her protests and efforts to escape. She wasn't small (far from it, in fact), but he seemed to find it easy nonetheless. They were part of a stream of clients and staff who had no wish to be anywhere near a shootout. Some looked happy to not have to pay.
He set her down in the mouth of an alley across the street, and watched with amusement as she glared at him with several emotions chasing each other across her face. The roulette wheel settled on annoyance. "How the hell did you do that? I thought your arms would snap like twigs. You don't look like much. Do you work out like crazy or something?" He was able to detect a near-perfectly concealed not of amazement in her voice.
In answer, he took off one thin black glove and rolled up his sleeve slightly. His right arm was automail. With a smile, he replaced the glove, leaned over and kissed her full on the lips for a brief moment. Blayne could only stare as he said, I'll see you later," and started to walk away. Then she recovered herself and yelled, "I don't even know your name, you pervert!"
Concealing a smile at the outrage her voice had, he turned around and pulled something out of his cargo pocket. He held it up where she could see- a silver pocketwatch with the State's logo on it. The look on her face changed to absolute shock and bafflement. "Colonel Kyle Harris, State Alchemist." He dropped the watch, letting it dangle from a belt loop and sparkle brightly in the sun. Then he turned away and resumed walking. "I've no love for Roy Mustang... Blayne."
She could only stare in blantant incredulity as he turned down a side road and left her sight.