Disclaimer : I do not own FMA, and did/will not claim to own it in previous/future chapters. This story is purely fan made.

Zetch : but god i'm rad. i do own rad, that i definitely cannot deny.

Small gathered crowd: It's been like . . . god knows how long since you've added a chapter.

Zetch : iWork.

Small gathered crowd: uLazy

Zetch: STFU.

Well, it had been an interesting turn of events, hadn't it? Nevio Ledote absentmindedly picked a scab on his cheek, watching the girl carefully and always scouring her face for an expression other than incomprehension.

"Don't, you'll scar."

"Too late to worry about that . . ."

"Scars are ugly, and you really don't want to emphasize that, considering," she snapped, hating the anxious contradictory side Nevio had been demonstrating since the earlier morning. In his silence, she took his sudden appearance as a need to speak with her, though her eyes wandered from his face to look imploringly at his hands, which were nowhere to be seen. Suddenly she was on her feet, and she had him dancing out of her snatching hands. "What is it, tell me," she demanded firmly, though she was smiling mischievously. There was a brief struggle before Nevio was on the bed and the girl was straddling him, attempting to wrest the book form his hands. Far from romantic, both fought a bit dirtily before the creation finished the dispute with a gentle [ by her standards but immobilizing knuckle to his gut, no harm done. Not about to allow this victory go without gloating a bit first, she hovered there as his fingers grappled at the book which dangled teasingly just out of reach. She stood, flitting a bit before jumping off and leaving the new State Alchemist attempting to flatten his newly ruffled hair.

"Christ, I'm supposed to do this professionally, and Alchemists aren't supposed to to even make physical contact with-"

"Shut up, it's your fault for taunting me."

"I did not taunt you! Now listen, we've got to be serious for a moment. Pretend like you don't know me. And that I'm not as good looking," he added, unable to resist a bit of self flattery in order to loosen the tension a bit. "When you read that book, I mean there's only one thing I can say. Remember that it is for you, written by the one who created you."

"I was born. Not created," she replied quietly, but he was already retreating, closing the door softly behind him. She listened to the soft patter of his footsteps till the sound muffled down the corridor, and then she looked down at the leather book, bound by a silken black tie with a gold emblem. She lifted the thick cover to reveal slightly ink smudged paper, signed with neat cursive. Koseim Ezra Gregory.

Flipping the page, the beginning that met her took the first of many hard blows to come.

"Hello, daughter. Your name is Rory."

-- -- -- --

Later on, early in the morning, Rory was still awake reading. She was near the end, but from the beginning page she had had no desire to continue, and when a gentle knock on the door startled her from her trance-like state, she ripped her eyes from the page to meet the familiar face. Nevio yawned widely, but she could tell it was forced, perhaps to ease her taut nerves. "So . . . have you finished it, Rory?"

"You read my book?"

"Why would I waste my time on that?"

"It is not a waste of time!" Rory snarled, almost shouting despite herself. Deciding it was not the right time to test her mood, Nevio retreated from her fury and picked his way along another path. He shuffled over to the side of her bed, leaned against it and sighed heavily. Half beneath the covers but still in her daytime clothing, the girl nudged him with her foot appreciatively and hummed thoughtfully. He looked to her and saw her eyes were a bit red and a subtle curve in her mouth indicated a barely retained frown. Without saying anything, Nevio slipped out of his shoes, tossed off his hat and began unbuttoning the shirt to his uniform – needless to say, he received a raised brow, but things were quickly resolved when a peek of light blue flannel pajamas flickered into view.

"You've been wearing those all day?"

"No, god no. I didn't think I'd be coming back here but I noticed your lights were still on, and the 'code' of the Alchemists demands I keep my uniform on in front of visitors outside of family at all times, lest we lose any . . . public respect by displaying casual wear."

Rory snorted disdainfully, passing air through her lips and huffing.

"Alchemist fluff. I guess you're breaking the law then."

There were three ways he could answer this. First, he could go mushy and tell her she was almost family. Secondly, he could tell her that she wasn't human and that she didn't count, but that would be a bit below the belt. Lastly, he could tell her he didn't care about the law any more. Wisely, he chose the latter. She merely snorted again, settling back to silence and looking dreamily to the far wall, her face full of calculation and bitterness. Finally Nevio was in his socks and sat on her bed, running out of distractions that could postpone the moment where he'd be forced to ask her what Koseim had said. He opened his mouth but before he could say anything she rolled away from him and closed her eyes, tossing the book onto the other pillow of the queen sized bed. "Come on, don't pretend like you need to sleep. Do you want to talk?"

"No."

"Don't be difficult, please Rory, I'm just doing my job."

"Is your job more important than a living being's privacy?"

"You're not a—listen; it's not like you have to tell me his darkest secrets; what were the highlights?"

Rory sighed, picking at her nails hesitantly before giving into their friendship and spilling a very small selection of writings.

"I was given Koseim's soul, but I was created from alchemic matter – I might not be totally human, but I have feelings, a brain, and I have to breathe to survive. That's another thing – you know how the Homunculi must have a steady intake of the Philosopher's Stones? I'm the opposite, I heal at any time, and if I do eat one, I lose my regenerative powers, I eat two, I'm about human strength, three . . . let's just say I won't be a match for the monsters; Envy, Lust, Gluttony, Wrath, Pride, Greed and Sloth. I'm supposed to destroy them, but I'm sure all of you were already aware of that last part," she stated flatly, and for a moment she felt a lance of anger race through her. For a moment, just a single moment, she felt like a puppet, a tool, but then she remembered the fond way her father – yes, her father - had spoken of her. Despite her limited time in the world, she would not have guessed, ever, that such affection could come from one stranger to another. She had gotten to know her father with such in depth perception that she felt as if she had seen him, that she had really been born to him, that she had spent the age she looked [ around eighteen at his side. She remembered that he had died to bring her into his world, and her anger disappeared into waves of sadness and desperation. "Do you have a picture of him?" Nevio did not need to ask who she spoke of; rather, he pulled a fresh, brightly colored photograph from his pocket.

"It was in the book before, but I figured you'd want to read about him first. He offered her the paper, and he found that she snatched it rather fast; the hungry look in her eyes startled him. There, standing still but somehow lifelike, was Koseim – he was a kind looking older man with a neatly trimmed beard, thin round glasses and a tall, well built frame with broad shoulders and a body that looked like it had once been muscled, but had retreated into old age's embrace. Mindlessly, Rory stroked the corner of the picture, willing herself not to cry in front of a brainless mercenary or whatever he was who had probably only ever known Koseim as a higher position to be respected. They had not known the sweet man who had wanted a daughter so badly however she came about, that he had donated his most precious gift to her without hesitating. He had told her that the reason she had not been created like a homunculus was because he had not wanted her to be destructive and controlled, but to be free, and this she found rather thoughtful.

"Only there's something that confuses me; Father said I was supposed to have straight blond hair, blue eyes, and that I was supposed to be able to do Alchemy. As you can see, I do not have those traits, and I can't do Alchemy to save my neck. Do you know why this is?" Rory questioned feebly, scratching at a thread from the book's seam.

"Not that I can remember . . ." Nevio stated lightly, thinking back to the night when he and the several other Alchemists had accompanied Koseim to the library. He had been the aged man's last apprentice – he knew the elderly being would not have made such a petty mistake as to fumble with chalk. Suddenly the memory came to him, like a ton of bricks. "Actually, come to think of it, I can. The circle was disturbed in the middle of the whole thing. Do you think that would have made a difference?"

"Well, considering all that Father said about the importance of precision within Alchemy, I would assume so."

"Well, the green haired one, you remember him I would hope, he scuffed up the right left side right after he killed Ko- … Kories, Flander Kories."

Way to go, he thought to himself, you insensitive bastard, you blew it! Nevio knew she was not stupid, that there was no way she could have missed his falter. It was confirmed when her eyes widened and all her fidgeting came to a stand still.

"Don't . . . fucking . . . lie to me," she hissed, bringing herself onto her elbows and sitting up to stare him straight in the eyes, her expression furious. "The . . . green haired one, he killed Koseim? That's why he's not here today?" Rory could not bring herself to say his name, though it had been continually used within the book, both directly and indirectly. Nevio looked to the girl with unfocused eyes before sighing.

"Yes," he replied sadly, looking to her face in an attempt to catch her gaze, to find her feelings – it was not hard to do. He could see a terrible mixture of sadness, anger, revulsion, perhaps even self loathing. They sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "Listen, you and I both know that you're supposed to go out and destroy them, and I can only imagine this makes you want to get going, but will you at least stay till tomorrow evening?" Nevio inquired quickly, watching her lean sideways and make a move to stand. "The Elric brothers are coming tomorrow, and I think you'll find them interesting enough – they've fought the Homunculi before and seek to destroy them as well," he added, and did not speak again [he had convinced her as soon as he'd said Elric – a famed name within the base . Standing, he looked at her in the pale pink shirt and loose gray pants, scruffy and at ease physically, before walking out, collecting his uniform on the way. He assumed it would be hard for her tonight – she didn't need to sleep, so she'd have a lot of time to think about all that she had read. He did not know if his ears deceived him, but he could have sworn he'd heard her speak just before he'd exited the room.

Rory turned and looked at herself in the mirror once the door was closed. She saw long auburn hair in loose ringlets falling down her back, bright hazel eyes, graceful, willowy frame with a well proportioned bust – she was not the image of skilled fighter that held innocent lives in her hands.

"Fine."

-- -- -- -- -- --

FINALLY. The boring chapters are done D I know, must've been a drag for you guys to have to read through the whole explanation/history shizzle but in order to give a foundation for the rest of the story.

Oh, if you guys don't want Nevio to die, say so now.