I'm going to do this thing where I make a reference at the start of each chapter. Whoever guesses correctly first wins an imaginary gold star, their name mentioned the next chapter and the satisfaction of knowing they won.

"It gives me great pleasure to do this… BIGGEDY-BAM!" (Super-big gold star to whoever gets that. It's pretty hard, maybe. Wait, which fandom am I talking to?! You guys'll prob'ly get that.)

Of Hijacking and Hidden Talents

Thump.

Three people snapped awake, sharing a sudden, startled glance.

That was the sound of heavy leather boots landing on the roof. Roy recognised it immediately. He stifled a yawn, shaking his head quickly to rid the bleary fog still sliding through his sluggish mind. He needed to be sharp if this came down to a fight - although he really hoped it wouldn't; he still hadn't quite recovered from his sudden panic attack yesterday.

Roy looked up at the roof, lighting up the lamp hanging there whilst Edward and Tyrell watched him expectantly. He simply motioned for silence by placing a finger on his lips. The man then noted the look in Edward's eye that said he comprehended the situation, and the nervous tensing that told him Tyrell knew it as well.

Judging from the continuing of the carriage, the drivers didn't.

Roy pulled open the curtain facing the front of the coach, tapping the current driver, an older man with black hair going grey, on the shoulder. Whilst he did, he took into account their surroundings; they were travelling down the middle of a steep, rocky ravine heading towards open land. Perfect.

The man turned, opening his mouth to speak but closing it as he caught sight of Roy's finger once again over his lips. Confused, the man cocked his head.

Roy pointed towards the roof, his dark gaze locked calmly with the driver's. "Slow down gradually," the colonel said softly. "We can take them. Take care of your partner."

The other driver, who obviously had this shift off, was nudged awake and hastily informed of the situation. This one, a young man with messy brown hair, looked panicked as he nodded and complied with Roy's plan.

There were several more thumps on the roof of the coach - Roy supposed the attackers were jumping from the top of the ravine onto the carriage. There would likely be more waiting in the open space ahead.

Watching out between the two fretting drivers, Roy tapped their shoulders in a silent order to slow down.

They obliged, and as they did a shotgun was pointed down at them. The younger man hiccuped, sweat trickling down the side of his face.

"Pull over and no-one gets hurt," said a voice from above. It was heavy with some exotic accent which reminded Roy of the few Xingese tourists he'd met.

Edward clapped lightly and there was a flash - quickly smothered by the curtains - as he transformed his auto-mail forearm into a short blade, nodding at the colonel as the black-haired man pulled on his ignition gloves.

Tyrell glanced quickly about the coach, drawing his cloak tighter about his shoulders. He looked quite anxious.

As the coach slowed to a stop, Roy tapped the young shaman's shoulder gently, whispering. "Don't worry. Ed and I will handle this. We're alchemists trained in battle. Although, you probably already knew that. Just try to stay away from the bullets and things."

Tyrell nodded apprehensively.

"Everyone out of the carriage!" came a loud shout from outside. "Hands in the air!"

"Ed," Roy hissed. "Stay behind. When you hear me attack, jump out, throw up a wall and then we'll take down all the stragglers."

The boy nodded, touching his hands together in preparation.

Roy and Tyrell stepped out into the arid wilderness, where about seventeen - way more than Roy had expected - masked bandits stood lined up before them, most armed with guns and knives. Every other man held a bright lamp, casting light across the barren land.

Roy analysed the layout of the battlefield. The bandits were in a wide semi-circle, so that there was no way he could hit all of them in one shot with a low-level blast. But they were too close for a powerful attack; there wasn't enough space for the flames to enlargen before reaching the agressors. He couldn't snap with both hands either - that move was hard to control in close quarters and Tyrell was right next to him. Roy quickly adjusted his plan.

"Is that all of you?"

"Yeah," Roy lied easily. "Please, we're not defend-ed. We don't have a body-guard or anything. There's no-one left."

"Alright, then," said one of them, the man who'd shouted before. Probably the leader, in Roy's guess. "We need you to hand over all your valueables, money or jewelry, whatever."

Roy shrugged and smiled bashfully. "Oh, so sorry. We don't have much we can give you! Only a couple of cens…"

"So they all say," muttered one of the bandits.

"Alright," the head bandit said again. "We know you two aren't just any tourists. This is a scheduled coach from Amestris carrying the representatives for two of the countries to the alliance meeting in Kambei. So you must have some money worth talking about."

"Tch." Roy bared his teeth. "Found out."

The man directly to the speaker's left sneered, showing his own pointed yellow teeth under his mask. This one had a different accent, one Roy recognised as rural Amestrian. "Like that there pawkit watch, f'rinstance…?"

Roy pulled out his pocket watch, flicking it open and examining it. Two o'clock in the morning… I really don't have the energy for this…

"I can understand why you'd want this," he said slowly, fingering the sliver rim expertly. "It's made of the finest grade silver, the craftsmanship is first class, and it adds an aura of sophistication to the man wearing it…not to mention it gives you access to the huge sums of money we State alchemists are supplied with for our research."

A couple of the men exchanged worried glances at this, some taking steps back as Roy stowed the watch away again.

"Ah. I'm a State alchemist. I forgot to mention that, didn't I?" Roy rubbed his forehead and through his hair as if he were angry at himself for not doing so earlier. "Courtesy tells us we should always introduce ourselves before fighting."

Roy cut his act instantaneously, moving his hand down and out in front, slightly to the right. "I'm Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist. Don't forget it."

With that, he shouted, "Edward, now!" and snapped right out with a wide jet of flames. He grabbed Tyrell's wrist and hauled him backwards and to the left.

"RRRAAAAARRGH!" Edward, accompanied by a ferocious battlecry (as per normal) came flying out of the back of the coach and skidded into the dust on all fours, slamming his hands into the ground and raising a great, rocky barricade just as the bullets rained down on them from the remaining bandits.

"Well, you're especially flamboyant tonight!" Edward called to his superior, whereas Tyrell pressed his back into the wall, his dark skin turned pale and his mouth pulled into a terrified grimace.

"What, and you weren't?" Roy retorted, casting a scathing glance in his direction. He nodded once and both of them jumped out from behind the barricade and charged forward, Roy snapping pinpoint attacks, throwing the thieves backwards and dodging bullets.

Edward used his blade to slice at bullets flying his way and throwing high kicks, smashing punches and alchemically summoned stone hands into the assailants.

As they went, Roy called out, "Your fighting style is so brutal. No finesse, no respect, no delicacy or savior-faire…"

"Oh, yeah?!" Edward growled. "Like you've got any so-called 'safwar-fairy' or whatever - you just blow stuff up!"

"Savoir-faire, Ed, savoir-faire…" Roy tutted as he snapped his fingers once more, shaking his head disapprovingly. "For instance, if you want to win the heart of any woman, you must approach her with gentle tact… Show her the softer side of your persona and have some amount of poise and politeness."

"How the hell did you go from fighting style to pretty women?!" Edward yelled angrily, slamming a metal roundhouse kick into someone's head.

"Everything eventually leads back to pretty women, Ed," Roy said pointedly. A thought struck him as he jumped backwards away from a sword. "But hey," he said as he flamed the man. "Whenever did I say pretty women?"

"Will you shut up?!" roared the Fullmetal Alchemist, glaring at Roy as he clapped and smashed a huge boulder into a man.

"Someone's defensive," teased Roy. "And I didn't even know you were mature enough to fully comprehend such an adult matter…"

"WHO ARE YOU SAYING IS AN IMMATURE LITTLE BRAT WHO HAS THE HEIGHT OF A SIX-YEAR-OLD?! And what's adult about it?! It's just girls! It's not like they're any different from men! Just look at Lieutenant Hawkeye! And my Teacher! What can a man do that a woman can't?!"

"Like I said, you're not mature enough to understand what a woman can do…"

"OH, GOD NO! SHUT IT, YOU OLD PERVERT!"

Edward finished the sentence, panting, and shot a glare around. The scene was clear - a few of Roy's stray flames burned into the night, but apart from that, all their foes had fallen.

Roy shoved his hands in his pockets, surveying the scene calmly. "That takes care of that," he said nonchalantly.

Edward didn't speak, just panted heavily as he caught his breath. He stared lasers at the colonel, his imminent fury burning in his fiery golden eyes.

A piercing yell rang out into the silence.

The two alchemists whirled on the spot to see Tyrell on his back with one last bandit standing in front of him.

"You missed one!" Edward accused.

"No time for that now!" Roy snapped back.

The bandit drew a sword and pointed it at Tyrell's throat. The boy gulped, his violet eyes wide.

The bandit looked half-mad, his torn mask hanging from his face and a demented grin stuck on his face. "Time to die, kiddie!"

Tyrell cast a glance at Roy and Edward, who both jumped forward.

Roy couldn't shoot any flames for the risk of hitting Tyrell, and Edward was too far away to reach him in time. He was about to fall to his knees and attempt an alchemic stunt, but he was too slow.

"Die!" screeched the bandit and thrust his sword down.

"Tyrell!" Edward shouted.

"No!" Roy snatched out.

"YAAH!"

There was a clang and the sword was flung away. Tyrell had rolled to the side, tapping twice at the man's hand and sending the sword flying. His eyes widened as he realised his blow had actually landed and then, with lightning speed and accuracy, the boy slammed his fingers repeatedly into specific spots on the man's body and started to force him back.

Roy and Edward watched, amazed, as the bandit fell sprawled to the ground and didn't get up.

Tyrell, breathing heavily and looking terrified, glanced their way as they ran over. As they bombarded him with questions, he answered with a tired grin, saying, "Fighting is such a chore, huh?" The look on his face said something like 'Honestly, I wasn't expecting that to actually work'.

Edward and Roy faceplanted, and the Second Prince of Orato let out a shaky breath, flicking his wrists. "Sh-should we go?"

Edward and Roy picked themselves up.

"What was that?" Edward asked incredulously as they stepped back into the carriage.

"Pressure point striking," Tyrell explained. "I'll tell you about it later. Just lemme rest now…"

The boy collapsed onto his seat and fell deeply asleep.

Roy shrugged. "I'm with him."

Edward looked baffled for a moment longer, then blinked. "Yeah, me too."

"He-e-ey… Colonel Bastard… It's time to wake u-u-up…!" Edward's sing-song voice shattered through the peaceful armistice of Roy's sleep.

"Mngh," Roy twisted his head away from the annoying little prat and his loud voice.

"Aww, wakey-wakey Mister Big-shot Flame Colonel! You gonna sleep the whole day away? Are ya? Hm? Hm? Hm?"

Roy flailed his arm out in a wild arc, aiming for the source irritating voice. "Grr… Shaddap…"

"Ooh! Somebody's not much of an early bird, are they?" Tyrell's voice joined in the taunt and Roy cracked open one impossibly heavy eyelid, glaring about.

He coughed slightly, grumbling, "What is it…? You'd best have a good reason for this, Fullmetal…I'm wrecked…"

"As in, burned out?" Edward taunted. "Dog-tired?"

The boy leant back to dodge another clumsy punch.

"We're almost there," Edward told him pointedly. "Plus it's getting light out, and you've still got that blanket wrapped around you tighter than anything. And I didn't think you'd appreciate us letting you sleep in to show up with bed-head like that."

"So you do care about people's hair…!" Roy said tiredly, stretching his arms and yawning. He looked about blearily, little tiny suns floating out of his head like something from a manga.

Edward scooped up his own hair and tucked it away in a ponytail, once again managing to look the part for the mission.

"You've got the appearance down now, Ed," Tyrell said, nodding approvingly. "Now let's see if you can act anything like Mr Roy's son might."

"Okay then!" Edward rose to his feet as Roy reached up to smooth out his ruffled hair, pulling off his blanket and then dropping his hands limply at his sides.

After he was satisfied he'd fixed his haired to it's original 'somewhat-tousled' appearance, Roy stood and folded the blanket up and tucked it away under the seat. He stretched his arms some more, letting out a second loud yawn and scratching his shoulder.

"So, we're almost there?" he asked sleepily.

"Yeah. Just about," Edward answered. "The driver guy says it's only ten minutes away."

"Great. No more sand. And it's cooler now." Roy glanced at Tyrell for a moment.

The shaman cocked his head in puzzlement. "What?"

"Did I dream this up, or yesterday, when we fought those men, did you take one of them down by poking him repeatedly?" said Roy slowly.

"It wasn't just poking!" Tyrell protested. "It was pressure point striking!"

Roy and Edward stared blankly.

"I don't really know what that is," Roy told the boy.

"Yeah, me neither," agreed Edward.

"It's where the attacker unleashes high-speed, precise attacks on specific locations on a person's body, normally weak points. Eyes, tendons in certain spots, vulnerable areas, so on and so forth," Tyrell explained. "All shamans back in Orato have an extensive knowledge on human anatomy, so this fighting style suits us to a 'T'."

A look of realisation had reached the two alchemists faces.

"Understand?" Tyrell asked, his face serious.

"Yeah," they answered in unison.

"Alright." Tyrell sat back in his seat. "Though, that's probably the first fight I've ever actually won."

Roy frowned, placing his hand in his chin. "Hm…"

"Something on your mind?" Edward asked.

"Yeah," murmured Roy with a slight nod. "Those bandits from before… How did they know who we were? How did they know where we were going and when we'd be there? It all smells a little fishy to me…"

The three stewed on this for a moment, before Edward abruptly broke in with, "Well, we've almost reached the place we're headed. And we beat their butts already. So don't worry 'bout it!"

Tyrell nodded excitedly. "Kambei ahoy!"

"Kambei ahoy!" Edward repeated, grinning.

Roy smirked and folded his arms. "Kambei ahoy."

That was quick. Both the update time and the chapter. But don't worry, this is more just a little filler to keep you happy.

Thank you to The Lazy Alchemist, who came up with the idea of the bandit attack. Now there's some action in here (I like action) and we get to see a little of Tyrell's talents shine through.

To everyone who said that Tyrell reminded them of Ling, you'd be about right - that was where part of his character must have snuck in from. He was meant to be a quiet intelligent type, but…heh.

He's also a bit of a hipster…

To everyone who gave their opinion on the Hitachiin matter, thanks. (And 'I'm with you' to anyone who said their favourite host is Tamaki! But I also love Mori…)

Now, I know I said I was going to get all this travelling stuff out of the way really fast, but this is the last chapter of that now! Next chapter, we're in Kambei! Whoo!

Review responses:

Sparky - Heh. That will almost definitely show up later.

lotrprincess - HOW DID YOU KNOW?! Heh. I just love those darn outtakes. Have you seen the Fullmetal Alchemist one?

KAMBEI AHOY! *rainbows off*