And the next chapter. I think I like the short chapter style; it's easier to write and get chapters out faster. Now if only I could start updating my other fics as faithfully...either way - enjoy the Kimblee and Archer goodness! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 11

They had come to a compromise.

On Kimblee's end, Archer agreed to make room in his schedule for 'outings' with the alchemist. This included going out for drinks or hanging out at Archer's home. Kimblee had even managed to smuggle in a weekend trip to another town in casual wear so they could get away with some serious fun. For Archer, Kimblee in return agreed to keep his hands (and lips) to himself and limit his 'sleepovers' to Friday and Saturday so Archer could get sleep for work. Kimblee also promised to start helping with office work. Overall, Archer had rejected Kimblee's affections (though he never did voice them explicitly), but the future time together left Kimblee hopeful. He even offered to buy the next bottle of brandy; Archer's choice.

Tucker sighed at his table and rested the top of his head on the back of his hand (sometimes having your head on upside-down was really quite a pain) while the two argued. They had agreed quite admirably on almost all terms save for one: Kimblee wanted to meet Mustang. Between the shouting, explosions and Kimblee getting smacked with the butt of a firearm, Tucker had long since given up trying to concentrate. For the tenth time that night, he wondered why on earth they had chosen his lab to duke out their terms.

"For the absolute last time: NO!" Archer snarled outright before unbuttoning the top of his shirt with a swift, forceful motion. The uniform jacket had long since been discarded in frustration. "If Colonel Mustang sees you he's going to throw a fit and get you kicked out!"

"How can he? I was fully reinstated!" Kimblee slammed his hand down on the table. "You just don't want anyone to see me!" Wishful thinking let Kimblee believe that was due to Archer wanting Kimblee all to himself; reality tuned in that Archer was ashamed of a loose-canon subordinate. Either way, Kimblee was fed up with not being able to confront Mustang face to face about his Archer. "He can't do shit to me!"

Archer waved his hand as if to try and emphasize his point. "He'll make a scene."

"Only if you let him!"

"The moment you screw up he's going to be there like a hawk!" Archer hissed. Time for a new tactic. "He'll be watching for you to kill something. Do you want to go back to jail?"

"I'll behave."

"Like you did the other day? Or what about all those people missing on the street?" Archer grabbed the man's jacket and pulled him in close. "If he catches you, I'll go down for association and conspiracy! Then everything we've worked for will be for nothing! Do you even use that brain of yours?"

"I swear that I will not do anything that will give Flame ammo against you or me." Kimblee smirked. Archer was being stubborn; time to pull out the big guns. When it came down to force, Kimblee won. "Which is a lot better than what I'll do if you don't agree to my terms."

"Is that a threat?"

"Having you all to myself in a jail cell actually sounds rather nice."

"You're sick." Archer let go of the man and rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "I can't agree to this."

"You can." Kimblee narrowed his eyes. Archer was getting tired and frustrated; perfect. Kimblee couldn't keep real tabs on Mustang or get in between Archer and Mustang if he wasn't within view. Therefore, the ability to be present was required. "And you will."

Archer rose an eyebrow at the underlying threat and smirked. It was a bluff. "Is that so? What gives you the right to make such a demand?"

"This." Kimblee's hands shot forward and yanked up Archer's uniform shirt out of his pants. Archer gasped in confusion momentarily and Kimblee used that time to smack his palms together and slam them into Archer's stomach. Finally, Kimblee got to see what those pretty blue eyes looked like when they were scared. It was only a flicker; but Kimblee had memorized every detail. "I think you keep forgetting just what it is I do as the Crimson Alchemist."

"You make things go 'boom,' I know." The slight crack in Archer's voice did not go unnoticed if Kimblee's widened smirk was anything to go by. Not that he could be blamed; the tingling sensation that was spreading very slowly on his stomach was enough to set off warning bells. Surly Kimblee wouldn't actually kill him? Would he? "You're bluffing."

Kimblee's fingers twitched against the man's rips and he started to move them in a small, massaging motion on the skin. Archer's fingers were stark white as they gripped the back table to keep from shaking. "Ever heard the phrase 'If I can't have you…?"

"No one can." Archer finished and almost snorted. He rolled his shoulder to try and get rid of some of the tension. Archer wanted to squirm and wriggle away from those damned hands, but he wasn't sure what Kimblee was doing! It didn't help that his hands were cold despite the burning of his skin. The sensation was surreal. "Take your hands off me."

"I don't think that would be a good idea." Kimblee laughed as the resisted the urge to move and back away. Between Kimblee's hands and the desk he was leaning against, Archer had no where to go. "I already turned the surface of your skin into a bomb. When my hands come off it'll activate."

"Kimblee." The fear was slowly turning to anger which was in Archer's favor. "Undo it, immediately."

"Agree to let me come out of hiding."

"I refuse."

"Then I'll just have to let this pretty stomach of yours blow up." Kimblee shrugged with a smile. "You'll live."

"You're a dead man."

"If you were going through with that threat I would have been dead long ago." Kimblee laughed. "You still need me."

"We've had this conversation before." Archer snorted. "It's getting repetitive and that only means the same for you."

"Like I said; I just need you to live." Kimblee glared and looked down at Archer's stomach. He tilted his head for a moment in concentration and lifted a single finger. A tiny detonation occurred leaving a gash about an inch in width. Archer hissed in a deep breath. The blood ran down Kimblee's fingers and he mourned the mark on Archer's skin, but it was necessary. "It'll hurt more if I let the entire thing go."

"Bastard." Archer took a calming breath and looked down to see the damage, but Kimblee's damn fingers were in the way.

"Just say yes."

"No."

Another explosion erupted on the skin leaving a matching gash on the opposite side. The alchemist pouted and pressed his forehead into Archer's. "Don't make me do this."

Kimblee was serious; Archer noted and his own personal resolve was breaking. He had thought the man was bluffing earlier, but now he wasn't so sure. The almost affection touching of their heads only added to the confusion. "It's not time yet."

Kimblee almost lifted another finger, but held out. For once in his life, he really didn't want to mar any more of the flesh under his fingers. Kimblee lifted his head and caught the man's eyes. He didn't want to, but desperate times called for desperate measures. "Last chance. Let me come out of hiding and interact with everyone else, including Mustang, or things are going to get messy in here."

The paler man looked at those gold eyes and saw the bits of jealousy, anger and insanity swirling. He was in the room with a ticking, unstable time bomb. Archer's pride would have to take a hit for self preservation. "I have your word that you won't do anything stupid or incriminating."

Archer's resolve had broken; Kimblee smiled. "I give you my word."

"Fine." Archer frowned. "You win, I'll introduce you formally to the office on Monday."

"See? That wasn't hard." Kimblee laughed as he started to undo the transmutation of Archer's skin. He picked up a rag off the counter and pushed it into the gashes on his stomach to help the bleeding clot. "You could have saved yourself some trouble by just agreeing in the first place."

"Don't push your luck." Archer snatched the rag and held it to his stomach. The blood had seeped its way down into the fabric of his pants and Archer nearly punched Kimblee for the hell of it. Blood stains were a pain to clean. "Now get the hell out and leave me alone."

The Crimson Alchemist almost refused (it was a weekend!), but reconsidered. Archer was pissed and just had his well-being threatened, not to mention the suffering his ego was probably going through. He could wait until next week to start his sleepovers again. So, with a smile (he got what he wanted after all) Kimblee turned and put his hands in his pockets ready to leave. However, he frowned when his fingers felt something cold in metallic in his pocket. "Oh, yeah."

Archer sighed tiredly. He wanted to go home and take a nap. A long, long nap and pretend this was all some bad dream. "What?"

"This is for you."

Archer looked up at the dog tags that Kimblee dangled in front of his face. He snatched them and turned his head to look at the name. "And this is?"

"Gutter's dog tags." Kimblee shrugged. "It was all that was left. I forgot to give them to you the other day."

"Fine, you did your job properly. Good job." Archer waved his hand. "Now leave."

Kimblee left with a much noted spring in his step and Archer wondered if shooting the man in the back of the head was worth it. Considering the trouble introducing him to Mustang was going to cause it might just be worth it. Archer wanted a stiff drink.

"Uh, sir."

"Tucker?" Archer turned around and looked at the giant chimera who had a single paw lifted in the air. "Ah, I forgot you were there."

"I tried to stay out of it."

"Smart man." Archer sighed and cracked his neck both directions. A bath might be good, too. "What is it?"

"That rag is soaked in a cleaning chemical compound." Tucker started again with a stutter when Archer flinched. "Y…you might want to remove it from your wound. It's poisonous."

"I'm going to kill him." Archer smacked his head onto the table and just didn't move. He was too tired.

The chimera man frowned and headed over. If Archer died of poisoning or blood loss than Nina would never get her body finished. Such a bother. Tucker took the man's arm and lead him to the back; he threw the now bloody rag off the table. "There's a sink to rinse off over here."

It was going to be a long day on Monday, Archer was sure.