A/N: I'm going to try to update at least once every two weeks, once a week if I can manage. However, finals are coming up, so expect fewer updates towards the end of May and beginning of June. Please have mercy on this chapter.
Since I forgot to do this first chapter, here is a disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. It belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. All I own is this.
Capital of the Drachman Empire
Ministry of Intelligence
0900 Hours
"Dammit!"
A fist slammed into the table, scattering maps and field reports. "That's six infiltrators we've lost in the past three weeks! How the hell are they getting intercepted?"
A nearby officer carefully spoke, "Well, major general, there are two known state alchemists now present in Central City. It's natural that there would be more intercepts, considering the… unique talents they bring to the service of Amestrian Investigations."
Major general Fedor Alexandrov, head of the Ministry of Intelligence, made a dismissive gesture towards the officer. "Even with those two, you'd think that the alchemic crimes we've been staging would have provided enough cover! The last report from operative Crown stated that the Fullmetal Alchemist was tied down investigating those crimes and the Flame Alchemist was busy processing reports."
Another officer, this one a colonel, said "Even so, those could have just been covers for other, clandestine activities. They certainly have the spare time to be running an undercover investigation."
Alexandrov growled, "This cannot continue! We need that intelligence, need to know their weak points! Our sleeper cells won't wait to be activated forever. Their orders are to dispose of their equipment and lay low if they aren't activated within six months. Gentlemen, it has been three months! Three months, without a sense of where Amestris is most vulnerable, where we can strike to weaken them with the greatest efficiency! Those sleeper cells weren't cheap to equip!"
"Major general, I believe I can help remedy this situation."
All eyes in the room turned to a man who had just walked into the room. He was tall, with a muscular build that spoke of many years in the field. He carried himself with a certain easy grace that contradicted the dangerous aura that surrounded him. Here was a man who would as soon slit your throat as look at you with his dark, hooded eyes. Even with one of his legs replaced by automail, he was a perfect representation of lethality.
"And who might you be?"
The man smirked. "Pardon my manners. I am lieutenant colonel Dmitriy Yevgenievich. You do not need to know what department I serve, only that I have authorization from the Emperor to take over all operations in Amestris and to do what is necessary to achieve Drachma's goals."
"You cannot be serious!" Alexandrov shouted. "I have run Amestrian operations for six years! Who are you to simply come in and replace me!"
"I warned you, I have authorization from the Emperor. I am to use any necessary means to relieve you of your command."
"I refuse! I will go to the Emperor himself! Somebody get this man out of h-"
BLAM
Alexandrov froze mid-sentence, then slowly crumpled to the ground, a smoking hole in his head. Yevgenievich shook his head, and replaced a small pistol into his holster. "I warned you, general."
Stepping over the rapidly cooling body, the lieutenant colonel stood in front of the table. "Now then, gentlemen, our first order of business is to eliminate the state alchemists from the scene. Now, to do that, I propose this…"
Central City
Roy's Apartment
0700 Hours
In the bedroom, Roy Mustang lay sprawled half on the bed, half on the floor. His mind was in a haze brought on by alcohol. He could have lay there forever, except…
BEEP BEEP BEEP
"Dammit, no… don't wanna… do paperwork…"
BEEP BEEP BEEP
"No… please Riza… don't make me go to work today… stay with me…"
BEEP BEEP BEEP
"GAH! What the… Oh, right. 0h Seven Hundred. Time to go to work. Oh God, what happened last night?"
Mustang rolled the other half of his body of the bed, and proceeded to crawl over to his bathroom. He propped himself up in the shower, allowing the warm water to partially revive him. As he leaned against the wall, bits of the night before flashed in his mind.
Havoc hitting on a girl.
The girl hitting Havoc.
Ordering shot after shot with the others.
Fuery giving an impromptu, emotional speech.
Breda and Falman performing karaoke.
Buying something for Hawkeye.
Stumbling home.
Wait.
Buying something for Hawkeye?
Oh shit! Where is that package?
Frantically, he shut off the shower, dried off, and ran into the living room. He opened drawers and cabinets, looked under furniture, and generally turned the place upside down searching for the gift. As he tore around the apartment searching for the item, he saw it sitting there innocently on his bedside table. He cursed and picked it up, putting it near his front door.
"Alright, I had better get to work early today. I'm going to need all the help I can get to keep Hawkeye from killing me."
Mustang pulled on his heavy wool uniform, tugged on his ignition gloves, put the gift into his pocket and exited his apartment. He checked the time: 0730. His lieutenant would already be at the office, but if he got there soon he could surprise her and get on her good side. With that thought in mind, he got into his car and drove off.
Central City
HQ
0800 Hours
Mustang threw open the door to his office and ran inside. He rested his hands on his knees and panted, trying to catch his breath.
Okay, looks like Hawkeye isn't in the office now, so I can leave the package on her desk and start working. Once she comes in I can-
"Sir, what are you doing?"
Or that can happen. Shit.
Mustang stood up and whirled around, plastering his trademark smirk on his face as he prepared to bullshit his way out of the situation. Or at least, he was going to until he saw the look on Hawkeye's face. It froze him in his tracks and blasted his smirk away with the force of one of Major Armstrong's punches.
"H-hello Hawkeye, didn't see you there! What did you do last night? I hope you weren't too busy. You know, a funny thing happened on the way home last night. I…"
"Colonel, with all due respect, you better have a damn good explanation for your little bar adventure last night."
Okay, shit. Mustang's brain went into full contingency mode, and he did the only thing he could think of: he whipped out his present. "Hey Hawkeye, check out what I got for you! I know it's not much, but I thought you'd like it." In his head he added please don't kill me!
Now, normally this would not have been enough to deter Hawkeye from giving the office a new set of ventilation holes. However, sleeping more last night had actually improved her mood a lot, and she was in a more forgiving mindset. Add to that the fact that she felt guilty about shirking work last night and the gift was enough to make her consider not pulling out her gun.
"Thank you, sir. You didn't have to, you know." She took the package from him and unwrapped it. Inside lay a pair of brand new, fingerless shooting gloves made of a black cloth. Hawkeye blinked in shock. She had seen these in the store window many times, but never had the money to buy such an expensive brand. Her heart fluttered just a bit as she thought about the colonel going out of his way to buy them for her. How had he known she had always wanted these?
"I know it's pretty simple, but I've noticed you looking at them. I haven't overstepped have I? Do they fit? Do they-"
"Thank you sir. They're perfect for me." Hawkeye silenced him with a tiny smile. She slipped on the gloves, marveling at how light they felt. She would have to spend some time on the range getting used to them.
Mustang smirk was now back and bigger than ever. He had her. "Really then? Then perhaps you would consider allowing me to take just a small break?"
Hawkeye's gun was quickly out and pointed at his jewels. "Nice try sir. Back to work."
Central City
HQ
1300 Hours
Fuming, Edward Elric stormed down the hallway towards Mustang's office. His automail hand clutched a piece of paper, his other hand made vague strangling gestures. If one looked closely steam could almost seen to be rising from him.
"Stupid military, stupid colonel, stupid freakin' geopolitics! Bad enough that I get an assignment, I have to work with the colonel!"
Alphonse ran after his older brother, trying to calm him down. "Brother, I'm sure it's not that bad. It's only for a week."
"A week? A week with Colonel Matchstick?! I can't do it! I'll go insane!" Edward's boot met the door of the office, and he rushed in. "You bastard! You had something to do with this, didn't you!"
"Fullmetal, what are you talking about? I did not do anything that involved you in the past week. Give me that paper."
Mustang grabbed the paper and read it over. "Hm. Orders to investigate possible Drachman infiltration of high command. Looks like you'll be working with me this time. I don't see the problem though."
"DON'T SEE THE PROBLEM? I HAVE TO SPEND A WEEK WITH YOU!"
Alphonse pulled Edward back, keeping him from attacking the colonel. Hawkeye observed everything with an amused look on her face. Then, something occurred to her.
"Sir, do the orders say anything about anybody else going along with you?"
"Let's see… yes, you are ordered to go along with me and it is strongly advised that Alphonse comes along. We're supposed to head to investigations first thing tomorrow to receive a briefing."
Hawkeye nodded and saluted. She then turned back to her desk to continue working.
"Oh, by the way lieutenant. Does the floor feel different to you today, or is it just me?"
It took all of her self-control not for Hawkeye to panic on the spot. As it was, she her body froze and her mind ground to a halt. She forced herself to calm down and adopted a slightly confused tone as she said "No sir, I didn't notice anything different."
"Hm. Carry on, lieutenant."
Central City
Riza's Apartment
2200 Hours
Hawkeye made it back to her apartment, shutting the door behind her. She slowly slid to the floor, trembling. The colonel had almost discovered her alchemy from last night. She needed to be more discreet in the future. What was she thinking, fusing the paper with the floor? She let out a breath, composed herself and stood up to go take care of Hayate. Then, she thought of something. From what little she had heard of the Drachman intelligence agency, its operatives were brutally effective. Rumors ranged from them being able to extract confessions from even the toughest soldiers to the field operatives killing men with one hand. It would definitely help for her to have more weapons than simply firearms available to her. If the worst came to pass, she would have to use alchemy to defend the colonel. But alchemy was useless to her if she couldn't get a transmutation circle drawn in time. If she had to draw out all of her transmutations, she might as well engage in hand-to-hand. It would be quicker, at least.
She thought of all the alchemists she had seen or heard of in combat. Major Armstrong punching and shaping rocks. Isaac the Freezer manipulating water. Solf J. Kimblee laughing as he blew Ishval into bits. Colonel Mustang lighting up the night with his alchemy, every snap producing brilliant flames. The dark yet handsome look on his face as he did so…
Where did that come from?! You're acting like a schoolgirl with a crush! Snap out of it Riza! She shook her head, a blush on her face. She did not have any feelings for the colonel. No matter how much her friends teased her about it, they were co-workers, and that was it. She banished the thought from her mind. She had a job to do, and she needed to figure out how to draw transmutation circles quickly. If only she could bring them along with her.
That's it! Gah, that's so obvious! A lot of the alchemists I have seen have put their transmutation circles on their gloves or gauntlets. I'm pretty sure my gloves could be used to do something similar. But what would I transmute?
Then, an idea popped into her head.
Naturally. What else did I think it would be?
Capital of the Drachman Empire
Ministry of Intelligence
2300 Hours
"Sir, are you sure this plan will work?"
"Yes. My experience has shown me that alchemists tend to think too much of their own abilities. Too often, they believe they can see all aspects of a situation when much remains unclear. Our agents have assured me that Flame and Fullmetal are no different. Their pride will be their downfall."
"For the empire."
"For the empire."
A/N: Gah, this chapter was a hard one. I redid Hawkeye making transmutation gloves at least four times. It still turned out crappy. Oh well. Maybe you guys can help me. And thank you to Sasha Hughes and fullmetal-royed for being my first two reviewers. You made my day.