Hello! Thank you very much for reading this far, I hope I can continue to satisfy you : )

Here is another chapter just for you : )

Edward jumped as a bullet clipped the desk mere inches from his head. He knocked his head hard on the wood in surprise, ignoring the stinging sensation and averting his attention back to the dark doorway. Holding his sore collarbone with a flesh hand, Ed collapsed against the cold radiator, a hollow knock as the automail collided with it. The office was mayhem. The walls and cork boards were embedded with bullets, holes and chips marked the walls randomly. A messy pile of files and papers littered the floor, a large black stain from a shattered pot of ink marked the cream and white parchment, a sticky trail of glass and ink trailed from the desk to the carpet.

Jean fired blindly towards the doorway, ignoring the protest from his legs as he crouched beside the sofa the muscles burning stiffly across his thighs. It was ever so tempting to surrender and release the heavy pistol from his hand. It was almost impossible to aim in the dark, as well as being half asleep. There was the occasional spark of a bullet that barley lit a thing, the blue spark disappearing almost as soon as it appeared. The lights weren't functioning in the slightest, the lamp lights were down outside, and Roy didn't seem to be very co-operative.

"Boss!" he yelled loudly over the gunfire, "We could do with some light!"

Roy raised a gloved hand hesitantly, a bullet chipping the wooden desk just inches from his fingers. Of course he'd love to help his subordinates, but he wasn't so sure losing a few fingers in the process was worth the risk or his time and effort. The thought didn't seem too flattering. Biting his lip, the Colonel ignited a flame and sent it flaring viscously into the dark corridor, a hiss of pain as a path of Hawkeyes bullets clipped the attacker's arms. The man's aim became more and more sluggish and off target, the bullets sinking lower and lower to the floor. Risa smirked triumphantly. It appeared the man wasn't strong enough to wield a gun, let alone the monstrous model he possessed. She doubted he had ever used one before.

Roy Mustang was busy cursing under his breath, almost oblivious to the present growing war zone as he struggled to open the well glued envelope with his gloved fingers, growling in irritation. As tempting as it was for Edward to laugh and slip in a sly comment, watching the man struggle was beginning to irritate him himself. Pulling off a glove with his teeth, he swiped the annoyance from his superiors grasp, the tab opening nicely under his fingers. The teen threw back the parchment smugly, ignoring the deadly glare burning into the back of his head.

"Honestly, you take so much looking aft-" the blonde jumped out of his skin as a loud bang erupted from above his right shoulder, a spray of water soaking him from head to toe in the process.

"You bastard!" he fumbled blindly for a heavy object in the nearest draw which happened to be a stapler, and lobbed it full force into the doorway angrily, producing a yelp from his victim. The teen clenched a fist as the sound of Roy's laughter filled his ears. Turning to give the man a piece of his mind, his lips curled into a genuine smile.

"Colonel?" Roy ceased his laughter and looked to his young subordinate questioningly, "Your gloves are wet" Ed displayed the grin of a Cheshire cat, despite the damp shirt and hair clinging to his skin. As the man looked down at his wet hands, the blonde wasn't sure he could contain himself. Looking at the wet fabric, Ed knew this was no laughing matter. Until the gloves dried out, Mustang would have to rely on his subordinates to protect him. Wonderful.

"Shit" Roy tried to salvage the sopping wet note in his lap, peeling the delicate paper carefully from his damp leg with his bare fingers. The ink had already begun to run, the white covered with long black smudges and finger prints, and he could only be sure of one thing. It was from Major Armstrong, there was no doubting that familiar bold handwriting. There were a few legible words he could just about make out in the darkness, squinting as he held the paper close to his face.

'Colonel................... immediately............... warehouse three'

The warehouse was on the other side of the campus, which meant getting to it one piece would be extremely difficult. Judging by the loud firing and explosions coming from outside, it was inevitable they would run into problems eventually. Whoever was leading this chaos wanted to make sure all the squads were delayed for as long as possible, and were undoubtedly succeeding, but not for much longer.

Edward flinched as the firing pierced the wall around him, just inches from doing any serious damage. The plaster chipped and cracked, the dust collecting on his shoulders and in his limp, wet hair. The blonde wanted to move. His instincts told him to jump after each click of the pistol, after each bullet skimmed his face. Fortunately, Ed knew better. Any wrong move now could cause severe consequences for his incredibly handsome features. Disfigurement was unwelcome and defiantly not attractive; the teen had already had his fair share of body modification to last several life times.

"Edward!" Risa called, firing and looking to him from the corner of her eye. She reached blindly for a pistol in her holster and slid it across the floor, stopping inches from his grasp.

"Shit" the teen cursed, looking from the doorway to the pistol. Did he really want to risk being shot in the head for a lousy gun? After barely any thought, Ed came to a conclusion. There was no doubt he'd done some stupid shit in his life so far, why should now become an exception?

He flexed his joints carefully, and edged his leg towards the pistol without trying to move his torso, slouching further down the wall until the tip of his black boots touched the barrel. The bullets changed course, aiming for the blonde's leg, skimming the metal lightly. He smirked and kicked the gun across the hideous navy carpet. The teen's leg disappeared behind the desk; he took the weapon in his left hand and felt the cool, smooth metal with his fingertips. For a moment, he paused, and turned his gaze to his left boot, a small hole piercing the bottom.

Roy watched as Ed removed his boot and pulled a silver bullet from the join in his toes, throwing the ammo carelessly aside. The Colonel looked to the pistol in the teen's hand, and then to his wet gloves dumped messily in his lap. He held out a hand. The blonde raised a brow curiously, looking to the lump of metal in his flesh fingers.

"Something you want Colonel?"

"Give me the gun FullMetal"

"Have you had training?"

"................."

"Then I politely refuse" he smiled broadly and got to his knees, pressing his side to the desk and aiming the barrel of the gun towards the door.

"FullMet-" Ed raised a finger to silence the man and fired a single shot. There was a pained gasp, and a thud as a body hit the floor, a rifle clattered against the tiles with it. Edward got to his feet confidently, throwing the pistol carelessly to his superior.

"We should get going, someone would have heard that" he smirked; walking over to the uniformed man slumped against the wall with a hole in his chest. His eyes were widened; blood smeared across his spectacles perched loosely on the end of his nose, smudges marking his pale cheeks. He reached for the rifle; a foot kicked it far from his reach and then turned swiftly to collide with his back, knocking the wind out of him.

Risa, Jean and Roy emerged sheepishly from the office, pausing behind the blonde.

"Where too Colonel?" Ed gave the man one last kick and turned to face the remaining last stretch of dark corridor.

"Just follow, someone could be listening" he began to lead his subordinates through the hall, a soggy pair of gloves in his pocket, the wet seeping through his trousers and irritating his skin. "Major Armstrong will be there with the Fuery and Breda, we'll make a plan, and then-"

"Kick some ass" the teen finished, clamping a hand over his stinging shoulder. His neck was already beginning to swell with bruises, black, purple, yellow and red staining his porcelain skin. He'd declined Jeans offer to help him walk, Ed was determined to keep going until he had to rely on the man for help. He didn't want to burden the man with his inhumane weight, he wasn't that cruel. He could see Jean was struggling to keep himself going already.

Havoc was grateful the lights refused to work. He was sure that it wouldn't have done his headache any favours. The back of his head has stopped bleeding, a patch of blonde hair messily clumped together with a dry crimson stain. He certainly wasn't looking forward to washing it out, and the thought of stitches didn't thrill him one bit. He'd probably have to shave it. Great.

Roy paced through the silent corridor deep in thought, the distant flashes of light and firing failed to make him flinch. He wondered if they would make it to the other side in one piece. With two of his men already injured, it wouldn't take much more to finish them. If it hadn't been for Ed's lucky shot, things could have ended much worse back in the office. It was clear that the chaos was being led by someone in the military, someone who could convince entire squads of people to turn against the state. It was hard to single out people who could be to blame. There were just too many suspicious candidates already on Roy's list of annoyances, to him, they were all guilty.

Glancing back over his shoulder, his attention shifted to the three tired blondes trailing behind him.

"Edward?"

"What now?" the teen groaned tiredly, rubbing his temples to keep himself awake.

"You forgot your shoe"

I know it wasn't very progressive, sorry about that...

Sorry if I spelt any names wrong! What will happen next? Will Ed find his shoe?!

Find out in the near future :)