Eight

Ed

When Ed walked into the office in the morning, feeling exhausted from the late night and the lack of success, he didn't immediately pick up on the subdued mood of the single person in the room, Sergeant Kain Fuery. He greeted the sort man with a wave that was hesitantly returned accompanied with darting, nervous dark eyes and he wondered why the look shot to the closed door of the Colonel's office. Ed already had his hand on the door knob when he heard the man's soft voice behind him start to say something,

"Uh, Major, maybe you shouldn't—" Too late. Ed was pushing into the room without so much as a knock to find Lt. Hawkeye standing calmly in front of Roy's large desk with the man himself standing behind it, chair tipped over on the floor and his eyes blazing. Ed was nearly incinerated with them as the man snapped his eyes to pin the intruding teen, effectively freezing the blond in the doorway.

Roy was incensed.

Tension crackled in the suddenly stifling space of the office, almost making it hard to breathe. One snap of white-gloved fingers and the entire place would blow. The dark eyes behind the fall of black hair looked ready to swallow him whole if he so much as blinked at the wrong time. Fury darkened the line of Roy's body, his shoulders rigid and his lips pressed into a thin, pale line. He moved to pluck a paper from his desk and his movements were choppy, all evidence of his normal grace gone, consumed with anger. Ed stood as still as he could, wondering what could have made the man so angry, wondering if it was him who had brought this on. Ed couldn't think of what he might have done, though, to piss the Colonel off so much.

"Close the door, Fullmetal," the tone was quiet but it was no less of a command and Ed did as he was told, stepping into the room, though he was a bit reluctant to get any closer to that flaming fury. Roy gestured to the paper in his hand. "I just received your report," his normally silky voice was clipped and Ed realized that it was him that made Roy so mad. Hopefully he wasn't angry enough to consider using those gloves he was wearing. Unfortunately, Ed couldn't stop the thought that Roy looked scary sexy when he was mad. Ed licked his suddenly dry lips.

"Wh—what about it, Colonel?" he managed to choke, hoping he hadn't sounded too rude. He didn't really want to admit it but he was a little afraid of the Colonel at the moment.

"Do you know who they sent you looking for, Major Elric?" Ed wondered how much control the man was exerting to keep his voice in check. It was rough, as if he had been yelling earlier but Ed didn't see what that had to do with why Roy was so pissed off. He shrugged carefully, confused.

"They just gave me the description and a name. Scar. What does it matter?" he asked, noting the flicker of eyelids when he had said the name. Even the ever disciplined Hawkeye shifted nervously, her hands hiding behind her back. Roy rubbed his temple with his finger tips, the hand holding the paper crushing it until it was nearly unrecognizable. Ed felt a pang of anger then. He had stayed until sometime this morning trying to finish that. He was about to say something too, when a commotion outside the door stopped him, a deep, hurried voice bearing down on the closed door. A second later, before any of them could react, the door burst open, rebounding off the wall with the force and in strode a man Ed had never met before. Dark green eyes looked wild behind a pair of square rimmed glasses as they swept around the room before coming to rest on the startled Roy, still holding Ed's crumpled report in his hand. A look jumped between the two and understanding darkened the Colonel's already shadowed features.

"He's here. He's in Central," in the following silence in which Ed was trying and failing to figure out what was going on, he saw something that he never wished to see again. As his confused gaze met Roy's, he found an emotion in the dark orbs that sent his heart leaping into his throat. He had seen fear.

Al

It was funny that that day of all days, Al had chosen to walk home from school. He had decided that it was such a nice day, with summer nearly upon them, he couldn't bear to be crammed on the bus with thirty some-odd hyper teenagers when the sun bore down on the city, lending it a charm he usually didn't acknowledge. There were a lot of people on the streets that afternoon, most of them having made the same decision that Al had and for once, it didn't bother him. He strode along the concrete sidewalks and admired how the early afternoon sun glittered on the windows of the buildings he passed. The city held a certain appeal he was willing to admit that much, but it couldn't compare to the rich country side of Resembol.

The serene images of the past week kept intruding his thoughts, the memory of deep blue skies and the great oak tree on top of one particular hill and corn silk colored hair caught in a rouge breeze. That last made him smile to himself as he walked. Winry had been the same as he remembered her, volatile and funny, now so obsessed with automail she always had a wrench of some kind with her. As half the residents in Resembol had been war victims, her skills came in handy and she was well liked in town. Al had thought about asking her out several times while he was there but he had stopped each time, not quite sure why. It didn't matter. He'd be going back as soon as school was done.

It was with that thought adding a bounce to his steps as he turned a corner that he saw him, standing across the street.

Al had no idea how he could had picked the man out from the milling crowd on the side walk. There were so many people that he was bumping someone's shoulder every time he took a step. Yet he saw the man through a brief parting of the crowd and then couldn't seem to stop looking at him. The man was taller than he was, towering over everyone else walking, oblivious, down the street and it could have been why he caught Al's eye. There was something about the way he stood, though, that instantly put Al's nerves on edge. The level of threat that emanated from the man reached the teen even across the street. It chilled his blood and he found himself desperately hoping the man hadn't seen him looking. The stillness in which the man stood suggested violence, though Al couldn't say why that would be.

The crowd surged around them, rendering Al blind for a moment and when it parted again, the man was gone.

Al shook his head, feeling a bit foolish, but the chill never left him all the way home because he couldn't get the image of the man's face out of his head. The face covered with a large, X-shaped scar.

Red eyes watched from a dark alley as the tall blond walked away, looking disturbed. There had been no mistaking it, the familiar, gut rending smell that had come to him from across the street. Alchemy.

The boy was an Alchemist.

It was a start.

Roy

By the time Huges had explained the situation and the rather long history behind the case that involved both him and Roy and now the blond teen, Ed had paled considerably. He no longer looked confused and the glance he stole at Roy told him the teen had figured out why the Colonel had been so mad.

Truly, when he had first read the report he had found on his desk upon coming in that morning, he thought it was a mistake. There was no way Ed could have been sent out after a mass murderer who focused his hate upon Alchemists. Yet after reading it several times (it took a while as he had to mire his way through Ed's handwriting, which was barely legible) he realized just how lucky the kid had been that he hadn't found any leads. Those that were sent after this man that found something of use usually didn't return. That was about the time Roy hit the ceiling, leaping from his chair so it was thrown to the floor and was ready to go set whoever had sent a teen just two weeks of being in the military on very final flames. It took Riza's combined use of her gun and sense of reason to calm him down enough to keep him from setting anything (or anyone) on fire. That hadn't stopped him from seething for another twenty minutes and it didn't help that Riza seemed to share some of his ire on Ed's behalf. The kid was smart and strong, that much was true, but some of the Alchemists that have already been brutally killed were some of the strongest in the ranks.

Now that Scar was in Central, they were all in danger. It was strange to think about for some reason, as if something had changed. Roy wasn't afraid for himself. He never had been and he had been on this case for months, having seen all the grisly corpses that came along with it. He was confident in his own skills and those of his subordinates. It was that there was fear that was strange. The images of the bodies, their insides splattered around them haunted him, superimposing over Ed's face sent horrified chills down his spine. It was irrational and powerful. The need to keep the blond as far away from this danger as possible nearly choked him.

"Where in Central was he spotted?" Roy asked quietly, as their explanation finally spun to a halt, having once again settled behind his desk, elbows on the top and his folded hands pressed against his lips. Hughes leaned against the back of the couch across from him and Riza had settled into it, a frown marring her forehead. Ed stood pressed against the book shelves as if trying to take comfort in the quiet leather bound words ensconced there and Roy noticed the look on his face was less worried and more calculating. Should he be worried about that?

"My source said he was heading through the park on Eleventh, headed toward midtown," said Hughes quietly, his normally smiling face sober. It was hard to conjure a smile when a man who had killed over thirty four alchemists in the bloodiest way possible was in their city, hunting down more victims. Roy resisted the urge to chew on his bottom lip, opting to run his fingers through his hair.

"How long ago?" he asked, then, finding his chair had become confining, pushed it back and stood, facing the window, the wheels in his mind turning. They couldn't just go running around Central searching for someone that had alluded them for almost a year. Perhaps it was time to contact some of his own sources.

"About twenty minutes ago. I came right here after I received the report," Hughes was answering, voice flat. Which meant he was as troubled as Roy was. There was movement by the book shelves and Roy glanced at Ed, who was now scowling fiercely as if he was trying to remember something.

"Did…did you say midtown? The park…park on elev…" there was a pause in which the teen's face lost every ounce of color and his eyes darted up to capture Roy's, yellow eyes wide. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as if he suddenly didn't have enough moisture in his mouth, "How—how does he find his victims, this Scar?" he asked, his voice hushed. Roy turned to him fully, not liking the look on his face. The room was suddenly completely silent and Roy shared a swift look with Hughes, whose expression was dark. Roy looked back at Ed.

"We think he can sense alchemy on a person, as if it leaves a mark or a scent on them," he said slowly and for a second, he thought Ed was going to pass out as his skin turned grey and the metal hand was pressed against the shelves behind him, the wood creaking. For a second, the blonde's mouth opened, as if he wanted to scream. Instead, he slowly extracted himself from the shelf and met Roy's eyes with his own terrified ones a second time.

"Al," he breathed, "That park…it's around the block…Al…he's an alchemist too…" It was amazing how fast the kid could move when he put his mind to it. One minute he was just standing there, looking ready to faint then he was gone, slamming from the office, uneven footsteps pounding from the outer office and down the hall. Without a second thought and barely a glance at the other two shocked officers, Roy tore after him. He would not let Ed face Scar if he could help it. He refused to accept that he couldn't stop the teen in time.

Ed

Al…Alphonse…

The name had become a mantra in his mind that he repeated over and over to the pounding beat of his footsteps. Anything that could be done to get him to his bother's side, he did, including using roof tops and alchemy and to hell with who saw. Nothing mattered but that Al was safe and Ed would tear apart Central to see that he was.

Breath labored in his lungs as he ran and ran…

Al

The feeling of being watched wasn't one Al was familiar with but he none the less knew what it was when he encountered it. A block from home the feeling became too strong to ignore and he slowed his steps, eyes sweeping the street. At first he wasn't nervous but it would be a bad idea to lead someone to the apartment if the feeling was more than just his imagination as he was hoping it was. He chided himself for a moment as he thought about turning around as he felt foolish and decidedly paranoid, something he had never been before. He had taken the same training his brother had in hand to hand combat and where Ed was good and could drop just about anyone but the toughest opponents in a matter of seconds, Al was better.

Yet despite his confidence in his abilities the feeling he was getting now was enough to raise the hair on the back of his neck. He paused on the side walk only a few buildings down from the apartment and looked around. He wanted very badly for this to be his imagination, that his feeling earlier about the tall stranger with the oddly shaped scar was just causing some sort of paranoia but the chills crawling over his skin. Al shifted his back pack nervously on his shoulder, wishing he had taken the bus home like he usually did.

An errant footstep to his left had him whirling around and his heart sunk to his knees. Why oh why didn't he take the bus today? Out the shadows of a short ally between two apartment buildings stepped the reason for his sudden dread and he recognized him immediately.

The man with the x-shaped scar.

Al was looking for an exit but there was nowhere to run. A fence was at his back and to the right and the man looked more than capable to cut off any escape he might have attempted. He squared his stance and faced the man, seeing red eyes glittering behind dark sunglasses. This man is from Ishval?!

"You are an alchemist," it wasn't a question and Al could feel himself paling. How did this man know he did alchemy? His mind was racing, trying to find a way out but he forced himself not to show anything. So he narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not an alchemist," Al responded, which was true in a sense. The little alchemy that he could do didn't make him anywhere near an Alchemist. What he wanted to know was why this man was so concerned with that? Did it have something to do with the war? It was the most probable conclusion he reasoned. He recalled what Ed had told him those couple of weeks ago, about the war with Ishval and Amertis's weapon of choice being alchemy.

Thos red eyes glittered in a way Al didn't like and he could almost feel the ill-intent rolling from this tall stranger in waves. The hard, scarred face gave nothing away as they watched one another.

"I can sense it on you, the stench of this country's evil," the man said, voice dispassionate, "It is faint but you are still tainted. Justice must be served, in the name of God," Al's mouth went dry at those words and his eyes were drawn to the man's arms as a large hand pulled back the right sleeve of the jacket he wore, baring an intricate pattern tattooed into the dark skin. It was alchemy. There was no mistaking it. Terror bolted through Al but he had the presence of mind to dodge, tucking himself into a tight roll as the man lunged at him, eyes changing, burning, hate scorching the air.

He barely regained his footing when the sidewalk crumbled under him, and again his just managed to leap away in time.

The fight didn't last long as Al had never seen the kind of alchemy that the Ishavalite was using before and he didn't know how to defend against it. Rather than creating, it destroyed, something he hadn't known was even possible but it was alchemy, breaking apart everything it touched with red light. It threw Al off balance as he tried to avoid the whipping lines of destruction that arched at him. He didn't need to be told that getting hit with the red light would result in rather graphic pain.

It happened as he was swerving to avoid falling bricks from a building that was brought down by the strange alchemy. He wasn't quick enough and had to spin while kicking at a particularly well aimed piece of rubble as it careened at his head. Using his momentum, he spun again to face his opponent only to find the man gone, the place where he had been standing just an empty expanse of rubble. The very air around him seemed to still as he swung his eyes around the street.

Air supply was cut off as a large hand wrapped around his throat and he was being swept off his feet and thrown bodily to the ground. The sensation of being lifted from his feet and forced into the concrete knocked the wind out of his lungs, leaving his gasping like a fish on land.

Red eyes stared into his, glittering with cold, dispassionate hate. With an effort, he dragged in a gasp of air.

"Why?" he breathed and the hand tightened around his throat, cutting off any other means of breathing. He could feel a building of something, something close to alchemical energy but it felt rotten, damaged. It didn't really matter at this point as he wouldn't be staying conscious for much longer unless the vise around his neck loosened.

"This is justice. For all the ones that those like you have murdered…this is the will of God…"

Red flames licked up the man's free arm, the one with the swirling tattoos and it ignited a fire of fear in Al. He knew if that light touched him, worked through his body, he would end up like the sidewalks that had been so unceremoniously torn apart. It was useless to struggle. He no longer had enough energy to put up enough fight to dislodge the fingers. Red light reflected in red eyes and all he could do was watch as the glowing palm was pressed against his chest.

Mesmerized by the red light as it strengthened, the power begining to ripple through his body, disrupting first the smaller blood vessels then working its way deeper, scorching through his skin.

If only he could have lived just a little longer to tell Winry he loved her. If only he could say goodbye to Ed.

He could feel his body relaxing as the pain began to set in and warmth began to flood down the sides of his face.

He wasn't ready to die…

Ed

He whipped around the last corner, heart nearly bursting in his chest and for a moment, he thought he hadn't made it in time.

The closest half of the street was churned to rubble, sidewalks and even a couple of nearby buildings missing chunks. With all the destruction, he almost missed the hunched figure of a man in a tan overcoat bending over something, surrounded by sick-making red light very similar to alchemy. It made Ed pause for a moment in confusion. Then he was the blond hair, so similar to his, short strands caught on broken shards of concrete.

Suddenly he couldn't move fast enough. With the image of his brother's prone body under the stranger's, covering in a deadly red light, he slammed his hands together and lengthened his automail into a shining blade, rushing forward with his heart in his throat. He barely had enough time to register how the man whipped around to fix him with a startling red gaze before he was slamming into the broad back, sending the man sprawling. Ed skidded to a halt, blood pounding in his ears, making his vision hazy, his feet straddling his brother's shoulders. So still. He was so still. The crimson that surrounded his motionless body made Ed's heart freeze.

The man stood slowly, fixing him with a scarlet stare and Ed felt a stab of recognition. The x-shaped scar stood out vividly against the brown skin and there was no mistaking who this was. The renewed fury building behind his eyes blocked out the sound of a car skidding to a halt somewhere behind him and hurried orders shouted in a familiar voice. He didn't care. If Al was dead, nothing else would ever matter again. He faced the sure death in the cold red eyes of the man known as Scar and knew that if he was going to die today, he was taking the man with him.

"HE WASN'T AN ALCHEMIST, YOU CREEP!!!" Ed screamed and in the second in which surprise flickered on the hardened face, he launched himself at the man. He didn't hear Roy's warning cry behind him or the arrival of three more vehicles. He knew nothing but the red eyes and the scar and that Al wasn't moving as his body slammed into the large man again, bringing his automail down, opening a shallow cut along one broad shoulder. He hit and they rolled for a moment before breaking apart, Ed leaping to his feet wanting nothing more than to tear this man part. Scar was already on his feet, watching Ed warily now as the short teen crouched defensively, his own body between Scar and his brother.

It was the soft, familiar voice that brought him from the red haze and back to some semblance of sanity.

"Ed? Brother…" it was a mere breath of a sound, nearly escaping like an elusive breeze but his ears captured the sound and ate it hungrily. All of his focus turned, away from the hate and to the relief at the stirring figure on the ground that was his younger brother.

"Al…" The flames that burst up in front of him caught him by surprise as was the startled,

"Ed! NO!" and he turned to see roaring flames forcing Scar back from where he had seen it fit to attack Ed while his attention was diverted. He caught the man's stare then, the red gaze reflecting the snapping flames that warmed the front of Ed's body. The sweat that popped out on his forehead was a gratifying feeling. The look in those eyes held a promise and he returned it with a challenge of his own before the man turned and disappeared like a shard of smoke on a violent wind.

Ed blinked for a minute as the flames dropped abruptly then he was turning and sprinting back to his brother, skidding on his knees in the rubble to reach Al, ridding himself of the blade on his automail almost absently.

"AL! Alphonse, I'm here, it's Ed," he fought the bile at the back of his throat and the burning at the back of his eyes at the sight of his brother's chest covered in blood and dark bruises already beginning to circle his neck. But he was breathing and his amber eyes sought Ed's, the gaze weak but unwavering. With as much care as possible, Ed slipped his hand under his brother's head and lifted it up so it rested on his lap. He could see Al trying to smile, relief evident on his face. He was sick on adrenaline and relief and it was all he could do not to bawl against Al's shoulder.

"Ed…I'm…I'm sorry…I n—never saw—" Ed shook his head, fingers busy trying to unbutton the remains of Al's shirt so he could see the extent of the damage.

"Shh, don't talk. You're going to be fine. I'm sorry I'm so late. I had to run to get here," he was babbling but he couldn't seem to stop and it took everything he had to not burst into tears at the sight of his brother's broad chest. It looked like someone had gone to it with a meat grinder. His hands shook as he swallowed then swallowed again, grief and guilt welling up within his own chest to choke him.

"Brother…" it was a whisper and he watched as Al slid into the comfort of unconsciousness. He was still breathing, as was evident with the rise and fall of his abdomen but that wasn't enough. He had allowed this to happen. What were the chances that he go after this very man the night before only for him to find his brother and do…this…

Then he was choking, the breath begin strangled from his body as the overwhelming emotion flooded his slight body so that he was bent over Al, hands pressed against the mess of his brother's chest and sobs wracking at him, salty tears running into the raw wounds below him. His fault. Al had almost been killed and it was all his fault. How could he ever forgive himself?

Warm hands were on his shoulders then, pulling him up and away from Al's bloody figure. A warmth at his back eased the choking feeling somewhat but he could seem to stem the tears that fell freely down his face.

"It's going to be alright. An ambulance is on its way. Let Hughes stop the bleeding," The soft words uttered gently in his ear made sense but he couldn't bring himself to lever up off his knees and he watched with detached interest as the tall, dark haired Lt. moved in and began to expertly tear up what remained of Al's shirt to press against the choppy flesh to staunch the sluggish flow of blood. Already he could hear the wailing sirens that signaled hope was on the way. There was a tugging at Ed's elbow and he allowed himself to be dragged to his feet after brushing his bloody fingers against Al's pale face.

"Stay with me," he whispered and tore his eyes from the scene so the Colonel could pull him to a piece of curb that hadn't been destroyed to promptly sit him down again. He looked at the man was he sat down next to the teen, pale face set and dark hair falling jaggedly over his forehead. An emotion that Ed didn't recognize made his dark eyes bright.

"I'm sorry—" he began but was cut off with a sharp gesture from Roy.

"Don't. It's okay. Just…don't do something like that again," he could tell the Colonel was relived and he realized the man had saved his life. Suddenly that light that was burning in the black eyes made sense. It made his already aching heart restrict and he turned away when Hawkeye approached then, soliciting Roy's attention with the news that Scar had vanished without a trace but she would tighten security around the area and keep up a sweep of the city.

"Thank you, Lt.," was Roy's soft reply. Ed thought absently that he really liked the way the older man talked, his eyes taking in the sticky blood that covered his fingers and dripped to the broken ground. This was Al's blood. Al, who had been nearly killed because he had been ignorant, careless. What a fool he was.

Ed was startled as a warm hand slipped around the back of his neck, under his hair that was falling out of its braid and gently requesting that he turn to face the Colonel. The cool plastic rim of a water bottle was pressed against his lips, water sliding against the seam of his mouth, begging for entrance. Dark eyes held his as he looked up in surprise.

"Drink this," was the soft command and he complied, letting the man tip the bottle for the water spill into his mouth. He managed a couple of sips before bringing his hand up to cover Roy's, telling him enough. The warmth of the touch flooded through him as fleeting as it was and then he was stuck, staring at the dark haired man as he took both of Ed's hands and spread them out in front of the blond before pouring the rest of the water over Ed's hands. Mesmerized, the teen could only watch as Roy pulled off his gloves and used his sleeve to wipe the blood from Ed's hands, working the material carefully over the joints of his automail.

"You're going to ruin your jacket," Ed heard himself saying, still feeling detached and trying to suppress shivers at the gentle fingers working over his own. The dark eyes cut up to met his own briefly and he didn't miss the tugging at the corners of the curved lips before the Colonel returned to what he was doing.

"I have another one," was the light response and Ed felt he might have smiled if it was in him. The feeling was gone quickly, though, as the wailing sirens approached, assaulting him, reminding him.

"Thank you," he choked out then, his eyes on those graceful hands watching blood staining blue material, "For saving my life," those wonderful hands paused in their ministrations and he looked up again to be caught in twin pools of black fire.

"Please, don't do that again. Don't make me feel like that again," the whisper was harsh, dark, the shadows threatening to swallow him whole. What wasn't being said suddenly slammed down between them, stealing Ed's breath until he felt his bones were crumbling under the knee weakening force of black flames.

Then the ambulance was there, the EMTs carefully lifting Al's body onto a stretcher and putting it into the back of the boxy vehicle. Ed detracted himself from Roy's touch then, barely able to think straight enough to tell them he was Al's brother and he would be riding with him to the hospital. The fire raging in his mind made it difficult to bring forth coherent thought and he was grateful the medic that climbed in the back with them was silent most of the ride, his attention taken with tending with his brother's wounds.

The last thing Ed saw before the metal doors were slammed closed was Hughes, up his elbows in blood, a questioning look fixed upon the Colonel and Roy, gaze locked with his own, eyes trying to covey something that struck deep within Ed. The emotion in the fire, he realized, was longing and it burned for him.

Roy

Roy stared after the ambulance as it pulled away, his heart in turmoil. The look on Ed's face right before the metal doors swung shut as the wide, yellow eyes sought his own had been screaming, terror and loneliness and uncertainty making Roy feel completely powerless. He hadn't felt so helpless in his entire life, even against hopeless odds with rain pouring from the sky. The moment when Ed had gotten distracted and had turned to look at the prone body of his brother on the ground, Roy thought for a moment that Scar was going to succeed in reaching the short blond with his alchemy but, luckily, Roy's fire had been quicker. He shuddered to think of the result if he had been too late, if he had hesitated even a second longer. He'd seen, quite graphically, what happened when that alchemy touched a human being. Had that happened to Ed…the thought had him swallowing bile, memories of broken bodies once again overlaying wide golden eyes.

"Roy," the deep voice at his shoulder startled him and he chided himself for zoning out while they were supposed to be in pursuit of a murderer. He turned sharply and caught the look in Hughes eyes that suggested a question, though in reference to what, he hadn't a clue.

"Yes, Lt. Colonel?" he asked, throwing the barrier up, hoping his friend got the hint that he didn't wish to answer any questions right then. Hughes gave him a hard look that he couldn't read, though he had seen it used often when the taller man was baffled about a particular case. It was never directed at him, though, and he was pretty sure he didn't like it.

"You're giving yourself away, Colonel," was all Hughes said before turning away in search of something he could scrape the blood from his hands with. Roy sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair and went in search of his Lt., a steely determination firing within him. He would catch this Scar and nothing like that would ever happen to Ed or his brother again.

**

Not a trace of a trail was found and after hours of fruitless scouring and trying to work around a rather uncooperative cleanup crew, Roy returned to Headquarters long after the sun had set with an insistent stabbing pain between his eyebrows and a babbling Hughes in his passenger seat. The man was rambling about his daughter again and Roy was glad for it for once. It meant he wasn't being grilled about whatever it was that had the other man looking so thoughtful earlier.

He pulled into the familiar parking lot under an orange street lamp whose sickly light reflected off the glossy black coat of his car as he shut the door. The lot was dark, only illuminated by a handful of orange lamps and just a handful of cars were left. They probably belonged to the suckers on night shift. He turned around to find Hughes leaning a hip against the side of the hood and fixing a shadowed stare at the Colonel, suddenly serious and his former dotting of his eleven year old daughter momentarily forgotten. Roy sighed. Well, apparently the man hadn't forgotten.

"So Edward Elric, huh?" Maes began and Roy could detect a smirk in his voice. Immediately on guard, Roy just gave him a sideways look.

"What about him?" he grated, not knowing where his friend was going with this. Hughes gave a slight, one sided shrug, feigning indifference as he studied his finger nails but Roy knew what he was doing and he wasn't going to fall for it. He braced himself because that kind of acting was usually followed by a rather unwelcome bomb.

"Nothing, really," here Roy snorted in disbelief but Hughes wasn't finished, "It's just, you know, I always took you for a ladies kind of guy, that's all," Roy gaped for a second, at a complete loss now and then he realized what the other man was saying and he could feel all the blood rush from his face, suddenly very glad for the shadows and shitty street lights. Had it really been that obvious? Hughes was watching the look on his friend's face carefully and the smile grew just a little bit, "Don't worry, only me and Riza have it figured out but if you're not careful, more people are going to start seeing things better left unseen," Roy blinked and when he felt the flush rising to his face, he nearly cursed out loud. Should it bother him that Riza figured it out too? Whatever it was. It didn't really bother him as much as he thought it would, though he had known Riza for as long as he's known Hughes. It bothered him more hat he was blushing like an idiot. He hadn't blushed since he was in high school. What the hell was this? He was acting like a little school girl with a crush. How stupid, to be smitten with an eighteen year old boy which not only presented the obvious problems but he was his subordinate and should anything happen, it could get him and Ed court marshaled right out of the military and probably land him in jail, though hopefully Ed would have been a consenting party. That very thought made the blush blaze hotter across his face and he dropped his face into his hand with a heavy sigh.

"What the hell am I going to do?" he groaned, voice muffled and he heard Hughes shift and mirror his sigh.

"Well," the other began, sounding hesitant and Roy vaguely wondered if the particular subject was making Hughes uncomfortable. Probably not. The man could probably talk about anything and make it sound as if he was commenting on the weather. He'd always been like that and Roy was grateful for it, "First of all, does the kid feel the same way?" Roy lifted his head and looked at his friend who just showed him a bland expression in return.

"I have no idea. Probably not. I'm a guy, after all, and twice his age," but Hughes was giving him that mild smirk again.

"Don't count yourself short, Roy. I saw the way he was looking at you and I think it's safe to say there's something there," Roy's heart betrayed him. That statement shouldn't make him feel like bursting into laughter and burn out in his car at every light on his way home but it did. If it were anyone else but Hughes saying such, he would have scoffed in disbelief but Hughes wasn't in the Intel Department for nothing as Roy had never met anyone with the man's uncanny observational skills.

"Can I ask you something, though?" he sobered quickly at that question and when he nodded, Hughes ploughed on, "For you to be so infatuated with this kid, there must be something about him that caught your attention," Roy looked at Hughes in surprise and wondered at his friend's concern.

"Besides the fact that he's prettier than any woman I've ever seen?" the admission even took him by surprise but Hughes was giving him an impish grin and he realized he should have known his friend had seen that much already.

"I'm sure that's a plus but, yeah, besides that," so Roy thought about why, within the span of three weeks he had found himself completely caught up in a kid half his age and the same sex as himself. The smile that plastered itself on his face showed up of its own accord but he couldn't get rid of it the more he thought about Ed.

"I don't know. He's passionate and hot headed and so smart he would probably put you to shame," he almost laughed at the face Hughes made at him but settled for just shaking his head, "You don't meet too many women who can talk shop in one breath and then about the physics of alchemy in the next," Hughes chuckled.

"Well that much is true. Seriously though, Roy, he's not just any kid and you can get into some serious trouble. All I can tell you is, be careful," Roy caught the concern in the taller man's voice and heaved a weary sigh. Hughes rarely felt the need to remind him about his own well being but he supposed he wasn't the only one involved this time. Roy didn't have to be told twice.

"Thank you, Maes," he said with a sigh, "You headed home?" Hughes immediately dropped the serious face and adopted something more appropriate for a doting, besotted father.

"Of course! Time to go see my Elysia!" then he twirled on the spot. Yes, twirled. Sometimes Roy didn't understand his friend. He gave Hughes a half hearted wave and began walking towards the hulking building of headquarters, knowing that if he didn't at least bring his paperwork home and attempt to start it, subordinate or not, Riza would have his head.

"Oh, and Roy," The Colonel turned to look at his friend but could see nothing of the man but a shadow and an orange glow on Hughes's glasses from the street lights, "I have someone watching the Elric residence. I'll be notified if Scar shows up so don't do anything stupid, alright?" As if he would. He couldn't hold off Scar any more than any of the other alchemists that had fallen victim to the strange alchemy had. He gave his friend a curt nod and another sharp wave and strode away.

He had no desire to go home, though, scowling at the thought of the empty house, dark and unwelcoming, waiting for him. He was still anxious, a jittery, unsettling feeling working through him. While walking back to his car with an arm full of paperwork he really had no motivation to actually complete, he decided to go see Ed and his brother in his hospital and almost managed to convince himself that the desire to see the blond right then wasn't completely without ulterior motive.

Dark violet eyes watched the two men in the parking lot part, one moving to his own car and the other, who he instantly decided to hate, into headquarters, face shadowed and giving nothing away. That was fine; he had heard all he needed to.

At first, he thought to go to the superiors with the information he had just overheard but that felt too much like tattling and in reality, the military didn't give a shit who was doing who as long as it never became public knowledge. That was fine. He wasn't out to tear down. He was out to destroy and a pretty blond alchemist and his dark haired Colonel were the targets.

Envy slipped away from under a broken street light and the maniacal grin glowed eerily in the shadows. His plans would take some time but the results would certainly be worth it.

To be continued...

Muuuhahahahaha! And the plot thickens...