Due to the lack of reviews on the last chapter, it was either really bad or no one noticed it. I'm hoping for the latter. Heh. Anyway, regardless- I'm really happy with chapter 16. I tried something a little different and I think it turned out well. That and as much as I love Mustang, Armstrong, Tucker and the rest, it's nice to have a chapter with just Archer and Kimblee again. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 16

"Shit."

Kimblee laughed at Archer's curse and leant his head on the man's shoulder as they sat side by side on the ground against the dirty wall. Archer's angry pout at getting blood on his uniform was now stored away in the alchemist's head and he could see the man flicking the dark liquid from his finger tips. Kimblee couldn't have planned anything this good if he tried. And for once, Archer couldn't get angry with him because it truthfully wasn't Kimblee's fault. Life could be kind if it wanted.

"This is never coming out of my uniform." Archer groaned and rolled his eyes as the alchemist chuckled happily next to him. The man sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, paused and sighed again when he remembered there was still wet blood on his palms. It was surely smeared over his cheek now. Archer closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall with a soft thud and just sat. He didn't feel like moving and Kimblee seemed more than content to sit there leaning on him.

It had been such a good morning, too, Archer thought to himself. Mustang had been going out of his way to avoid any contact with Archer whatsoever and called in sick when they were training the troops. Archer hadn't a clue why, but he didn't question it. Major Armstrong gave his speeches of family tradition to the trainees instead of Archer due to covering for Mustang; and that by itself would make any day happy. Archer could also now say his unit could pass all three assigned obstacle courses with flying colors and Kimblee had been surprisingly helpful in the field.

Archer had noticed Kimblee's restlessness in the office and in an attempt to be 'nice' (he had noticed Kimblee backed off on the puppy-love illness when Archer returned said affections; Archer would take the homicidal killer any day over that), Archer offered the man an opportunity to help his unit build character. AKA let Kimblee loose in the obstacle courses with the instructions that he could neither maim nor kill anyone, but was free to do anything else.

Needless to say the unit got a work out and a new understanding of the battlefield.

Even their evening had been refreshing. Kimblee decided in celebration of his unit's success in their field training, that he'd treat Archer to something nicer for dinner. Archer had actually been impressed when Kimblee chose a restaurant that had good food and a populated, yet not crowded, atmosphere. Sort of a warm, homey mom and pop place that served fine cuisine. Archer had noted the restaurant's number when he saw they served take out.

The two men had wanted to finish off their day with a drink before the inevitable struggle for the bed (Archer was beginning to loathe Thursdays and the weekend with Kimblee's sleepovers), however they were detained from turning in for the day. A group of seven twenty-something year olds in dirty clothing had gathered around them and said something about wanting money. Archer had distinctly remembered scoffing when the hooligans had shoved a knife in his face. Kimblee had almost broken out laughing himself.

"Gentlemen, do yourselves a favor and walk away while I'm in a good mood." Archer had told them. He was far too tired to arrest anyone tonight, especially not some riffraff better left to the sergeants. Kimblee had somehow managed to keep quiet during all of it, but Archer could tell he had a smirk on his face and that the man's fingers were twitching. It was only gentlemanly to give the poor souls a chance to run before hell broke loose.

"You have blood on your face."

Archer was brought back to the present when Kimblee interrupted his thoughts with that single remark. He smirked and looked back at those gold eyes that were watching him intently. "Do I?"

Kimblee lifted a hand to rub the blood off the man's cheek and licked it off his thumb. The man's eyes were glued on the smears of sticky liquid next to the man's mouth, a few drops dripping down the collar of his neck. "And now it's smudged."

"If you lick my face, I'm going to beat you with the handle of my pistol."

Kimblee stared blankly at amused blue eyes and slowly found a matching smile creep on his face. Archer was being playful; what fun. "How'd you know I was going to do that?"

"It was written all over your face." Archer cracked his neck to the side and stared at the bodies before him. "We're going to have to clean this up."

"I say we leave them." Kimblee snorted and snuggled further into Archer. He was smacked weekly for his trouble, but Kimblee ignored it. "Bunch of punks."

And Archer had given them fair warning, so it was no fault but their own. Kimblee smiled, not that he was complaining. He finally got to watch Archer kill something and it was nothing like he had pictured. For some reason, when he imagined Archer in action, he saw the man with an indifferent face that pulled the trigger without so much as a care or a blink. A ruthless killer with control and apathy.

But that's not what he saw, Kimblee recalled.

When one of the idiot gangsters lunched for the two soldiers, Archer had moved instantly and started running towards the alley. Kimblee had been confused at the time, but he followed anyway with the group hot on their heels. Once they reached the back though, it was obvious Archer just wanted to get them out of the street and as soon as Kimblee was behind him, Archer had his piece out and aimed at the gang.

There was no smirk on Archer's face, nor frown nor smile- just a look of distinct concentration. Kimblee noticed it looked similar to the look on the man's face when he shot at the range. It was neither manic nor indifferent, but it was as if Archer put his whole being into aiming the gun; hands steady and eyes focused. Kimblee hadn't seen a killer like that in a long time; Hawkeye was probably the last he'd seen.

Somewhere in Kimblee's brain, he was wondering why Archer had drawn his own weapon at all when he had a living, breathing killing-machine standing right next to him- but the other half that was giddy in anticipation of the man killing something was winning out. Kimblee kept his hands ready just in case, but had no intention of stepping in unless he was needed.

Archer had shot immediately after drawing his gun and taken out the first to get into the alley with ease. The blood had sprayed over the walls, but the body was too far away to get either of them dirty. Archer fired a second and third time, but the brats were dodging now that they realized he had a gun. Archer was a good shot, but it was dark, Kimblee noted as the man missed. There was a twitch on Archer's face each time he missed; Kimblee thought it was cute.

Though, Archer had only taken out three by the time he needed to reload. Thus, one was able to work his way down the alley quickly attempting to disarm Archer. Fate was not smiling on the poor fool, however, because Kimblee was more than ready for him. As soon as he got close enough, Kimblee slammed his palms into the unsuspecting gut and let the alchemy do the rest. The punk exhaled sharply and staggered back a few steps, eyes glazing over, before he exploded.

The splatter was impressive and stopped everyone in the alley dead in their tracks. Kimblee licked the blood off the corner of his mouth and smiled as he watched the other two's eyes widen in terror and start to back up. It would be bad if they ran off and told someone about what was happening, so Kimblee figured he'd chase them down and nip this in the bud. He was about to take his first step and go after them, but.

The two gun shots beat him to it.

Kimblee stared as Archer lowered his smoking gun to his side and flicked it to get some of the blood off. In the time it had taken for Kimblee to blow up the kid, Archer had reloaded his gun and shot. It was wonderfully efficient; Kimblee was secretly admiring the team work they had displayed. It wasn't often he worked with someone else, and even less often when his partner could react in time with him. Kimblee was liking Archer more and more.

Once it was finished, Archer had taken the few steps back to the alley wall and slid down to sit. Kimblee sat down to join him and stared at the bodies spread out in the alley. The smell of blood was thick in the air and it reminded Kimblee of better days. Archer started to look himself over and had exclaimed "Shit."

Which brought Kimblee back full circle to where he and Archer were sitting in an alley leaning against each other covered in blood. And it was still a Thursday, which meant Kimblee got to sleep over. "Anyway, that was fun."

Archer scoffed and willed his legs to move but they ignored him. For some reason they liked laying flat in a puddle of blood. He glared at them. "Forget cleaning, but at any rate, we should leave."

"Hmm." Kimblee hummed and let his head fall back to the shoulder. Personally, the Crimson Alchemist would rather stay for a bit longer. "Probably."

"Come on." Archer spoke mostly to himself and forced himself up from the ground. He braced a hand on the wall and was thankful it was dark outside. If they avoided street lamps, maybe no one would notice their blood stained clothes. Archer took off his jacket and hung it over his clean undershirt just to be save. "I want to go to bed."

"Tired already? Where's that stamina?" Kimblee chuckled, still on the ground. He pulled his legs up under him and squatted in place. "You'll never last in a war if seven brats wore you out."

"I have plenty of stamina, Kimblee." Archer smirked and rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand to try and flake some of the dried blood off. "It's patience for this sort of idiocy that I lack."

"What does that have to do with wanting to go to bed?"

"Figure it out yourself."

"What?" Kimblee pushed up off the ground as stared as the other man started walking. What on earth did that mean? Was Archer saying something about Kimblee or the idiots they just killed? Archer had left the alley way some time during Kimblee's thoughts and the man started to chase out after him. "Hey! Wait for me!"

Archer smiled to himself and almost whistled as he listened to Kimblee trot up behind him. The Lieutenant Colonel chanced a look behind him and was pleased to still see a look of confusion on the Crimson Alchemist's face. He'd been pondering that simple statement all night trying to figure out what Archer meant. In other words, he'd be too busy with that to think about jumping Archer when he got home.

Archer smirked; it was going to be a lovely night.