AN: Alright, so for simplicity's sake I'll be referring to Greed as 'he', as that seems to be the way Father created him, though my personal headcanon is that he could go whichever way, that he's an entity not inherently one gender. I'd also love to hear other takes on Greed-related headcanons, so feel free to drop a word if you want!

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and its characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa; I own nothing.

Part 2

"Lan...Fan?"

Greed turned to regard the blond brat, and grinned, the gesture stretching a foreign set of lips wide across the face of the girl's container. It had a distinctly awkward feel to it, like muscles that weren't utilised much. Don't smile often, do ya, little lady? But by the mortified look on the blond's face, the answer to the question was evident even without the twinge of annoyance from the girl. "Guess again, Blondie."

The girl shifted – the movement somewhere at the back of his mind, and it was a warning if he'd ever heard one. "Don't hurt them," came the sharp command, and Greed scoffed, a little amused and a little miffed. For all her earlier bluster, she seemed an oddly serious sort.

"Relax – I ain't got an issue with short-stack."

Speaking of which. "Then who–"

"Greed's the name, kid. Girly's not taking social-calls at the moment, so you'll have to settle."

The blond's brows furrowed as surprise passed over his face, and there was a sharp intake of breath. "Greed? You're– you're Greed?"

Greed raised a brow, and crossed slim arms over an exposed chest. Hel-lo. The girl seemed to twitch in annoyance, and he resisted the urge to laugh. "That's what I said. You deaf or something?"

"Don't you remember us?" the suit of armour at the kid's back spoke suddenly, and Greed's brows rose at the sight. What the hell?

"Should I? And the hell's with the fashion statement? Armour big this year or what?"

"There was a Greed before you," the robed old fart who'd been silent up until this moment spoke suddenly, with a calm detachment that didn't at all fit the situation. "That would be the one they refer to."

Greed hummed. "That right? Sorry, brats. Different Greed." He shrugged. "Tough luck."

The short brat looked like he wanted to say something else, but was interrupted by a sudden commotion, and the arrival of a scarred bloke and a little girl whose face jogged something in his memory – or hers, as it were, by the way she visibly startled at the sight. He'd half a mind to ask what the deal was, but the exchange that followed drew his attention away from the thought. It seemed he'd gone and landed himself in the middle of a touchy confrontation between people who obviously had some sort of history, but his cohort seemed adamant on keeping her mouth shut about the subject which left him, quite literally, in the dark.

"Greed," the old fart said then, and he looked up. "Dispose of the outsiders."

He stretched, and grinned again, aware of the multiple sets of eyes that tracked the movement. He guessed he ought to find a shirt or something, but the girl didn't seem to make note of the vessel's lack of covering. "Sure thing, old man."

Blondie perked up at that. "Oye, Lan Fan! You're not going to–"

"It's Greed," he emphasised, rolling one shoulder experimentally. The limbs felt nimble and flexible – like he could easily run a few miles without it wearing down. "Good meatsuit you've got here. I wager you're the sort to take pretty good care of it. Well, aside from the arm."

Irritation skittered across his skin, but he wondered if it wasn't perhaps just part of his own imagination. "You will see that you do the same, Homunculus."

"Yeah, yeah. Relax, would you? Wound like a damn string back there – and don't think I can't feel it."

"Lan Fan! Lan Fan, damn it, I know you can hear me–"

"Let it go, Blondie, she ain't comin' out to play today," he cut the kid off again, but the brat didn't look inclined to back down. In fact, if anything, he looked ready to pounce, but held himself back for some reason. Probably the meatsuit. "This your boyfriend or something, girly?"

"Edward is a friend. You will not hurt him, or his brother."

Greed cast a glance at the suit of armour. "Junkyard over there, yeah?" he snorted. "Fine, but Big Daddy's orders are orders. Should've considered that when ya signed up."

The blond's brows furrowed then, and he seemed to make some sort of decision. "Sorry, Lan Fan, but I've got to do this."

Surprise raced through him – hers, not his – but he ducked out of the way of the attack before the kid could land a hit."Heh. Looks like your 'friend' doesn't have your qualms, girly."

He didn't know what he'd expected from that remark, but she surprised him when she seemed to harden – it felt almost like she was digging her heels in, and the surprise was replaced by the same resolve she'd shown when she'd first taken him in. "Tell him this was my own choice."

Not the apologetic sort, huh? "Oye, kid," he said as he slid out of the way of another attack – sloppily executed; the brat wasn't putting his heart in his actions, despite his bold words. "The little lady gave herself up willingly. She thought you might want to know."

That only seemed to make him angrier, and when he lashed out this time his metal-wrought hand nearly nicked Greed's face. "The hell kind of choice is that?!" he roared. "Lan Fan! Damn it, if you can hear me you better fucking explain yourself! You think your grandfather's going to think this is okay? You think Ling will?!"

She jerked at that, and for a split second Greed felt like she was shoving herself to the surface, pushing him down into submission, and it was enough to tip him off balance and for the kid to land a solid punch between his ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs and landing him on his back. But he regained his senses fast enough to physically shove her back, and before the kid could shout anything else, he'd flipped them both over, holding him down in a secure leg-lock that felt strangely natural though he wasn't at all sure from where he'd dug the knowledge. Nice moves, ninja-girl. Gonna remember that one. "Caught me a big fish, Daddy-o! Where d'you want me to put him?"

The blond protested, but allowed himself to be taken away regardless, no doubt aware of their fragile situation and that it wouldn't benefit them much to resist. Greed watched them go, aware of the worry that lingered at the back of his mind, but she resolutely said nothing. He couldn't claim to have had any expectations of how it would be like to share a vessel, but there was something distinctly eerie about experiencing someone else's' feelings. He didn't know if he was supposed to, or if it had something to do with the stubborn hold she still seemed to have over her own mind, shoved as it was at the furthest back of his. But he did feel it – the sense that if he let go, even for a second, she'd be there clawing her way to the surface. It wasn't the kind of mindset one who'd willingly given up their body should rightly have, but he didn't call her out on it. He had a vessel – it didn't really matter to him if his cohort took up more space than she should.

Though her concern was beginning to take up more space than what was comfortable. "Relax, the old man ain't going to do anything. They need 'em alive, right?"

She scoffed."Somehow that does not appease me."

"Greed."

He looked up to find a shirt proffered, and accepted it with a smirk, tugging it around the slim shoulders of his new meatsuit. It was much too big, but he figured it was better than running around without one. From the look Blondie had been giving him, it wouldn't go down very well, nor was it very discreet. "And I've got to protect your honour, little lady."

She snorted at that, and he was pleased to see she wasn't completely devoid of humour. "You need not concern yourself with my honour, creature. I forsook it the moment I took you in."

He sighed. "I told ya, it's 'Greed'. And lighten up, would you? You talk like you sold your soul or something. You're still back there." He grinned, unduly pleased at his own joke. She didn't seem nearly as amused.

She was silent a moment. Then, "You would not understand."

"Try me."

Her sigh echoed – it was the weirdest sensation, and he had the distinctly human urge to shiver. "I have a duty to my Emperor and my country," she began, seeming to choose her words carefully. "I...acted on my own with this. It was selfish. Edward was right – there will no doubt be consequences."

Greed raised a brow. "This about the grandpa Blondie mentioned?"

"Amongst others. But...he is not in Amestris at present. I can avoid him, for now."

"Why do I have the feeling you're holding something back, girly?"

She didn't answer at first, but held her tongue, and the silence dragged on for so long he was beginning to wonder if she wasn't perhaps ignoring him on purpose, but then, "Homunculus."

"Ah?"

"...I'm going to need you to find someone."

It took some getting used to, not being in control of her own actions.

The city passed her by in a blur, and it was difficult keeping track of where they were, with the route the Homunculus was taking. Lan Fan was personally partial to travelling by rooftops, but her body's new host seemed to want to take excessively roundabout routes, no doubt to get a good view of the city from different angles. She was surprised her request had warranted an actual response, let alone an agreement to help. It was more than she'd expected, anyhow. But the Homunculus had indulged her, regardless, and hadn't brought up her lingering suspicion though she was sure it was more than evident.

Greed clambered nimbly up the side of a building, before sprinting across the rooftop and leaping easily towards the one directly opposite, but she couldn't feel the impact of her own feet against the building underfoot, and though the city sprawled far and wide before them there was none of the usual feeling of absolute freedom even here, perched on the edge, light like a bird and with a perspective that allowed her to see everything at once. It felt distinctly like riding piggy-back, but held in place without the option to get away.

"Getting claustrophobic back there?"

The good-humoured thrum reverberated in the space of her new home, stowed away at the back of her own mind, a spectator to her own life. No – she'd forfeited her life, and her body. She wouldn't drown in her own regrets now. Her choice had been made the moment she'd allowed the Father to give her the Philosopher's Stone, and she would not let her decision to aid the Young Lord be impaired by her own discomfort.

"You're too damn sombre, girly," came the following remark, accompanied by a snort, "So you're a lodger in your own body. It ain't the end of the world."

She didn't feel the need to award the creature the satisfaction of a response – a silent sort of rebellion she knew amused more than angered it. Her. Him. It was hard deciding what to address it as, sometimes.

"Like I keep telling you, 'Greed' is fine," came the answer, reminding her once again that her thoughts were no longer strictly her own. The creature snorted again. "You humans and your labels. Always got to be one or the other with you." There was a bout of laughter – a loud, rambunctious sort that was nothing like her own, and that oozed an arrogance beyond anything she'd known before. "Where's the rule saying you can't be everything?"

"We like order," she snapped, and didn't know who was more surprised at the sudden outburst. But she found she had something to say, at least with regards to this, and she would not cower to this being's blatant egotism. "Labels are orderly. Man, woman. Lord and peasant." She shrugged. "They make it easier to distinguish between our roles in this world."

The creature scoffed, clearly unimpressed by her reasoning. "Seems restrictive, if you ask me. Who the hell would want to settle for being just one thing?"

"For some, one is more than enough."

"Well it ain't for me," came the self-assured answer, though she'd expected nothing else at this point. "I'm Greed. It's only natural I'd want everything."

She fell silent at that, not quite sure how to respond to such a declaration. She was realizing, rather belatedly, just the kind of Homunculus she'd given her body to, and that it had been her own greed that had driven her to do so in the first place. She'd wanted to help her Young Lord, but she hadn't thought much further than that – hadn't considered that it was more than simply gaining a Philosopher's Stone. The Homunculus had a mind of its own, she was also beginning to realize. Convincing it to aid the Young Lord might not be as simple as she'd first imagined.

"So you're sure this is where we'll find this boyfriend of yours? I'm assuming that's what he is, since Blondie didn't warrant nearly the same reaction."

She felt her cheeks redden, though she didn't strictly speaking have a physical body to speak of. "You will not address the Young Lord as such!"

Greed laughed. "Ho? Touchy subject, girly? Well, now."

She seethed. "You will treat the Young Lord with respect, Homunculus," she snapped, voice like a whip and intentionally sharp to disguise the embarrassment she hoped it hadn't sensed.

To her relief, the Homunculus didn't push the subject. "Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a twist. I'll play nice."

"See that you do."

She felt the grin – a tug at lips she could feel, but that she was in no way in control of, and that made her wonder if she'd counted her victory prematurely. "Oh, we'll see about a lot of things, I imagine. Ah, that's him, then? Kiddo with the ponytail?"

Her gaze found the familiar shape of Ling Yao, perched on the rooftop opposite, but before she'd had a chance to respond they were soaring across the open space between the buildings, her view of the world tilting unpleasantly, and she held her breath even though she didn't have a breath to hold. Then they were level again and the Young Lord's face was before her, relief smoothing the foreign lines of concern on his face.

"Lan Fan! I've been looking everywhere for–"

"Sorry, Ponytail," she heard the words roll off her tongue so easily, as though she'd always spoken to her Young Lord with such blatant disrespect. "Your girl's taken the back seat for a while." A hand was raised – a lazy salute she'd never have given, as was evident from the flabbergasted look on her lord's face. "Name's Greed. Nice you meet you, or whatever."

Ling Yao blinked, struck truly speechless for perhaps the first time in the years she'd known him. "Lan..Fan?"

"Try again, little lord. Greed," the Homunculus pointed to itself. "Lan Fan's indisposed. Sort of."

Anger flashed across his face. "Indisposed? What's going–Lan Fan–"

Greed held up a hand. "Not dead. Just...out of commission, for the foreseeable future."

His poorly attempted reassurances didn't seem to be doing much for the Young Lord, and so Lan Fan made a decision. "Greed – let me out. Give me five minutes."

"Hell no, this is–"

She didn't know how she managed – didn't know where she'd even gotten the knowledge of how to do it, but she made herself bigger somehow, hands clawing, grasping and tearing as she physically shoved herself into the forefront of her mind, and she could feel herself pushing the Homunculus back, kicking and yelling obscenities all the way–

She drew a starved breath, the sensation not unlike resurfacing from below water, and suddenly she could feel the roof-tiles beneath her feet, and the warm breeze against her face."Young Lord," she spoke, and it was her voice again, and not some warped version of it, and she didn't know which of them was more happy to hear it.

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Lan Fan, what's–"

"I found a Philosopher's Stone," she cut him off, uncertain of how much time she had before the Homunculus took back control. "I–" she stopped when she found he wasn't looking at her anymore, his open gaze locked on her left arm, gripped tightly as it was beneath his unyielding fingers.

"Lan Fan." He didn't raise his gaze, and her shoulders slumped a little as her mind worked to find a way to explain everything. "Your arm." Confusion crossed his face, and now he did lift his gaze, and when he looked at her he wasn't looking at her anymore, she realized, and in that moment she might as well have been firmly locked away at the back of her own mind for all the recognition she could see in his eyes. In that one moment he wasn't seeing the childhood friend or the loyal vassal, but something else entirely, and her heart broke at the sight.

"Young Lord," she began, but trailed off, for once unable to find the words to speak her mind. Where did one begin to explain that their body was no longer theirs to command?

"I met Ed," he said then, surprising her. His brows were furrowed, and his expression oddly severe for the good humoured boy-turned-man that she'd grown up with, and at whose side she'd never strayed far from. "He said you were well, but that I had to see for myself. I didn't realize–" he sighed, and his shoulders slumped. "Greed," he began instead. "Is that...a Homunculus?"

She nodded, the gesture brusque – there was no use evading the inevitable. "Yes."

He breathed out through his nose. "And you did this– willingly?" he spoke the word like it brought a bad taste to his mouth.

"Yes," she repeated, though without the same assurance as before. "You've been searching so long, my lord, I–"

"You cut off your arm," he broke in, tone uncharacteristically sharp. "You've given enough, Lan Fan, don't you–"

"With all due respect, my lord, the choice was mine to make." She squared her shoulders a little, to make herself seem bigger, if anything. She'd never once stood up to him or spoken in such an abrupt manner; her role at his back had never allowed for it, and his surprise at her interruption was thus vivid on his face. "I wish to aid my lord in his quest, and this is a way for me to do so," she pushed on. She wasn't usually one to be so upfront, either, but her time was running out – she could feel the looming presence at the back of her mind. "Please don't be angry with me, Young Lord."

He looked at her then, the way he had when she'd left her arm in that dirty alleyway – the helpless-but-resigned expression of someone at his wit's end but unable to do anything but accept his fate. He was a man willing to give everything for his people, but who had yet to understand how such actions could and should go both ways.

She didn't know what she'd expected – anger, to some extent, certainly, but instead she got something quite different. "I could never be angry with you," he said, and he looked so resigned in that moment she wondered if he'd just as well gone and written her off for dead.

She drew a startled breath, and wanted to tell him again – to reassure him – that it wasn't the end of the world, like the Homunculus had told her earlier, ironic as it was. That she wasn't dead – that she was very much still alive, just not entirely in control of her own body anymore. And with a Philosopher's Stone at their disposal, surely–

"Sorry, girly. Time's up."

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth, panic pushing her resolve forward, and she opened her mouth, "My lord–"

–but the words were dragged back down her throat as she was forcibly hauled back into her own subconscious, the dark presence wrapping around her ethereal arms and legs like vices and tugging until she was sprawled in a heap in the darkness.

"You heard the lady," she heard the Homunculus speak, and when she raised her gaze it was to her Young Lord's severe but resigned expression. "She thought she ought to let you know how it is," Greed continued with a shrug. "Loyal little subordinate, though." There was a snort. "Mah, guess that's what I am now, too." He threw a hand up. "Anyway, see ya around, little lord. Don't get killed – for the little missy's sake, if anything." He turned to leave.

"Wait."

The Homunculus paused, and threw a glance over one shoulder. "What?"

"What is it you want, Homunculus?" her lord asked then, and she felt a sliver of something race through her – intrigue, or something of the like, though the creature was no doubt loath to admit it.

Greed turned to fully face him. "What I want?" And though she couldn't see the grin, she could feel it, and by the look on the Young Lord's face, it was a far cry from her own smile. "I'm Greed," he said simply. "Ain't it obvious? I want everything. The world at my feet and all that jazz."

The Young Lord regarded them closely – seeming to attempt to see through the creature. "What about immortality?"

She felt the creature pause at that, and the flicker again, like a skittering across her imagined skin. Intrigue, but now shamelessly undisguised. "Immortality?"

The Young Lord nodded, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Aa. You live longer than a human, but you're not immortal. And if this country's Führer is any indication, your...vessel, won't last forever." He hesitated over the word, and for all his quick wit, it sounded thick and awkward on his tongue. Lan Fan felt a twinge of something akin to regret at the sight. "What's the use of having everything if it will only last a second? All the riches in the world won't matter if you're cold in the grave."

The Homunculus snorted. "And your idea is, what? Tag along and we'll all go on our merry way together, looking for the miracle of eternal life?"

The Young Lord nodded. "I'll accompany you in the search, if you're willing. That is my loyal vassal's body you're inhabiting, and a liege doesn't abandon his subordinates."

Greed paused for a long moment, and it felt distinctly like a stand-off, though neither party was armed or on the brink of attack. Lan Fan waited in silence, wondering what the Homunculus would do.

"I don't need a posse," Greed spoke then, irritation clear in his tone. "I've got enough with missy back there and she doesn't say much. So no thanks, kid – you have fun looking for immortality and all, but I've got orders. And if you're in cahoots with Blondie, I'm going to assume Daddy dearest won't appreciate me bringing you home like a stray." He threw another lazy salute, before jumping off the rooftop. "See ya!"

"Hey – wait! Lan Fan–!"

But the voice died away as they dropped through the air, before vanishing like a shadow in-between the city's buildings. Lan Fan closed her eyes against the movement, and wondered at the folly of her choice. Had she given her body for nothing? If Greed didn't wish to cooperate, if this wasn't in fact a way to attain immortality, what would she have to show for her sacrifice but a tainted vessel that was no longer hers to inhabit?

Panic rose like phantom bile in her throat, and regret seized her heart in a vice. "Homunculus–"

"I ain't got time for friends, girly, so give it a rest," the voice snapped back, and she started at the uncharacteristic force behind the words. In the short time it had shared her mind, she hadn't heard it speak with anything but a good-natured sort of humour, but it seemed a line had been overstepped, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was about the prospect of companionship that could cause such a reaction from a creature who had, to her knowledge, just been brought into the world. The Young Lord had only offered that they team up – an idea Lan Fan had entertained herself, when she'd accepted the Father's Philosopher's Stone. He had in no way suggested Greed take over his former vassal's duties. And either way, Greed was under the Father's control, so it wasn't an issue with authority–

"I can hear the gears grinding back there," came the snort, and she started, before her brows furrowed.

"Would you care to explain your decision, at the very least?" she asked back.

It was silent a moment. Then, "Nah, not really."

"But the Young Lord–"

"Is your pal, missy, not mine. I did as you asked, and he's been briefed. Or what, d'you think we were all gonna run off together on an adventure? Please."

Lan Fan glared into the dark. "You mock something of which you have no knowledge, Homunculus," she snapped. "Though I can only assume companionship is not a practice your kind values overly much." But even as she said it she remembered the furious screams of the gluttonous Homunculus, calling for Roy Mustang's blood.

Greed snorted. "Don't assign your silly human systems to our kind," it spoke, but though the anger was gone from its voice, there was a hint of something else there – something that made her uneasy. "You and me are more than enough," it said then, the promise a dark thing in the space between their minds, and Lan Fan wondered suddenly, startlingly, what she had gotten herself into. She heard the laughter, the sinister drum against her ears, and a promise hammered with a chisel into the marrow of her vessel's bones, no longer hers but theirs.

"I'll lay the world at our feet, little lady – just you watch."

AN: Greed is such a treasure to write, I can't even begin to stress how much I'm enjoying this. (I hope you are, as well!)