Disclaimer - I have managed to hide. One of them found me, but after a difficult battle, I managed to defeat it. Now I must rebuild. I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

'Here's the letters, sir.' Private Blackhammer brought them over to my desk. It was a clear morning without a hint of rain inside my office, though it was a lot heavier outside.

'Thank you, Private.' I looked at the first letter. It was from Fort Briggs! I opened with a swiftly slice of my letter opener. I was amazed! It was from General Armstrong herself!

The letter read:

Dear Mayor Longwood

Take your soldier and place them in a pit with a hungry wolf. Wait till the wolf is dead. If they survive with all their limbs, then they might be of some use to me. If not, bury them knowing them it at least you didn't waste my time further.

General Armstrong.

I had to confess it was mildly disappointing. Where would I get a wolf in Central? I sighed, and began looking through the rest of my letters.

The next letter was far less interesting. It was from my old commanding officer when I was stationed in the South Area, Captain Cullhaven. I cut open the letter, and looked at what words of wisdom he had to give me:

Dear Major Longwood,

I found a pair of your old socks. Do you want them back? They're a bit smelly.

Yours sincerely,

Captain Cullhaven.

I really should give him my home phone number. It would save him time.

I wrote a brief reply, requesting the return of the socks. After all, you can't buy good material in any shop! Only those that sell cloth!

The next letter seemed to a thicker one. When I opened it, reams of individual sheets of paper exploded around me. Thankfully, they seemed to be numbered, so I gathered up the piles of paper in order and looked at the first one. It read as such:

Dear Cloth Alchemist

So just to forestall your next chasing after us, I've sent you this letter. So whatever terrible crime that happened to you this time, like someone leaving a pen upside so it runs out, it wasn't me or my brother! So don't bother to try and find me – I'm very busy with actual research! Stuff a State Alchemist should be doing!

You might be wondering why there are so many pieces of papers here. Well, I filled it with the written statements of witnesses to where I was for the last three day, to prove it wasn't me. I got about a hundred. I then put the notes into the envelope so it will cause a mess when you open it. It took a while, but I had a long train ride and nothing else to do!

So am I off your back now? I thought I was after that flag, but then you attacked a train!

Yours sincerely

Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist.

PS Al said he didn't think you called me a pipsqueak, so if you didn't, I apologise. It still changes nothing!

My rage built up inside me. How dare he mess up my office! I picked up a random piece of paper, and looked at it. It was done in crayon.

The litle man + teh metal man wuz on the tran al of yesturdy. The big one din't ate anytink. Duz he eat metal?

Ben, 5 + 6/8

There were many others present. Some were more descriptive, accounting for the boy's location over a period of three days, including accounts from military officers. I placed the piles of paper on my desk. It seemed that the Fullmetal Alchemist had out foxed me. I hadn't actually thought that he was responsible for any more crimes, as there had been no disorder of late. But given his possibility as a repeat offender with no proof of repenting, I consider him prime suspect should more occur. I wondered if I should ask him to send regular reports on location. But it would probably be easier to just Brightsilver for a copy of his latest reports. I sighed, and pushed the pile to my out pile.

The next letter was addressed to me by my full title. It's always nice to receive some professionalism in the mail.

Dear Major Egbert Longwood, the Cloth Alchemist

Report 1026:

All personal are well. Standard operations have progressed as per normal (See Report 24, with updates from Reports 189, 543 and 876).The sanitation facilities development progress according to schedule (see Report 1005). Articles 9-15 (see report 996) have been sent on route for your examinations, estimates indicate they will arrive within two days after this arrives at your location. Articles 1-8 have been destroyed.

File this Report and send a replying Report to this address when articles 9-15 have arrived.

It ended with a red official stamp. It's always nice to receive letters from my mother. She's the only one allowed to use our official family seal. I filed away the letter with the others, and made a note in my schedule to reply. While I was there, I checked report 996 – as I thought, the items were my father's old tailoring equipment, which he no longer needed after his retirement. I hadn't the heart to tell her that I didn't need them, because of alchemy. And that they were only used for silk, while the uniform is either cotton or wool. And to use the wrong fabric for even a strand would be to betray all not only my country, but my soul!

There were but three packages left. The first was the account of my research grant. It seems that I accidentally managed to spend most of my research budget already, and I have been unaccountably denied additional funds for my important project. I sighed – it seems the world will have to wait for the knittable gun. Perhaps I should go back to the plan of a knittable grenade? While it has been not impossible, it does have the minor problem one must carry around guncotton in your pocket to do it. And it's hard to time probably. Or ignite consistently.

The second package was from Dublith. It was a curious package – I did not recognise the hand writing. I opened it up and read:

Dear Cloth Alchemist

Do you think it's possible to make an eye patch which is partly see-through, but you still can't see my eye behind? I was thinking of wearing two eye patches to train myself for the dark. And test my guards observance by switching the eye they're on every now and again.

Let me know if you think it's practical.

Fuhrer King Bradley

My heart leapt. Fuhrer King Bradley wanted my skills! Well, this had to be my first priority. I shouted to Blackhammer. 'Private, remove the guncotton from the area! It is now useless to use!'

'Are you sure sir? It can be a bit dangerous? Blackhammer asked.

'You're right, Private.' I replied. 'Just burn it instead.'

Blackhammer piled up the guncotton to take it outside for incineration. I had a place in a nearby alley for testing. 'You might want to take out this package with the guncotton.' I said, holding up the last one and walking out of my office. 'It's not to anyone here. Just to some Richard, but there's no one here of that name.'

'Um, sir?' Private Blackhammer said. 'That's my name, sir.'

'What?' I asked. It occurred to me I hadn't asked. 'But it doesn't have your full name or rank on it! Who would send you a parcel like this?'

'I think it's from my mother, sir.' Blackhammer said, taking the parcel. 'She hasn't seen me for a while. I didn't get to send a letter home till that time off early last week.'

He opened the package. He smiled. 'Ah, sir, it's a pair of gloves!' He held up a pair of red mittens. They had R on one, and L on the other.

'Very nice, Private.' I said. I decided I should be polite, given my earlier mistake.

'She also made a pair for you, Major.' Blackhammer passed over a second pair. They were identical, except they were green.

'How nice,' I said, taking them. 'I must write a thank you letter. What is your mothers address?' I asked Blackhammer.

'It's Moor Farm, Wrenfall, Lance, South Area.' He told me.

'Thank you, Private.' I walked into my office, closed the door and began writing.

Dear Mrs Blackhammer

First, thank you for the mittens.

Secondly, i wish to complain about the atrocious education your son has received. He lacks the most basic knowledge of knitting, sowing or tailoring bar that I have taught him. He is unable to tell gloves from mittens. And he lacks even the politeness to inform his superior officer of his name without prompting!

Third, I know the difference between left and right.

Fourthly, the needle work is sloppy. I advise you learn how to knit probably. I fear that this work is only suitable for grenades.

Yours sincerely

Mayor Egbert Longwood, the Cloth Alchemist

I folded up the letter and placed it in an envelope. Well, another vital task had been completed, and a new task had been given to me! So soon will it will necessary for me, Egbart Longwood, the Cloth Alchemist, to do his duty again!

So a bit of change of pace here. I'll probably have do these much less regulary - I'm going to be busy. Feel free to give me suggestions for ideas for future storys, and thanks for reading.