The wait passed quicker than I thought possible. It helped that Alchemy was swiftly becoming one of my favorite things in the world. It was science, but it was also magic in a way that no one who was born around it could ever understand. My newest project was more 'useful' than 'cool'. There were some circles I had cobbled together in the middle of the night, half-asleep, and woken up later to find that it was a breakthrough in one project or another. Other times they made no sense and I simply pushed them to the side until I found a time when I would need them, or pieces of them.

Sitting there in the cafeteria I quickly got sucked into a rapidly forming side project. My circles and theories for breaking the sound barrier, and using the force for combat were quickly drafted to another purpose. Stealth. If I could figure out how to bend sound waves around me the same way that I could light waves then there would be no need for paranoia whenever the circles were in place. I was on my third bottle of soda and fifth page of rapid sketches when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Havoc, an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth, uniform rumpled and half unbuttoned. I blinked at him owlishly, trying to adjust to the change from staring at paper to seeing a person in color.

"Is something wrong Lieutenant?"

He grabbed my elbow, gently tugging me up from my seat. I grabbed my notebook, stuffing it and my pencil in my pocket, and reached for my soda. He steered me out the door, shaking his head.

"You left for coffee 3 hours ago, we were worried. There's something the Colonel had to take care of, so he left to see to it, but he left some files for most of us to look over, yours are about the Benson case. We'd started worrying when you didn't show up almost an hour after that. What happened?"

I shrugged, gently reclaiming my elbow.

"I got distracted, I had a sudden thought and wanted to get away from the domestic spat happening in the office so that I could concentrate. Besides, I'm technically off today anyways."

He looked me over curiously and asked,

"What kind of thought? You were doodling pretty intensely in that notebook, I called your name three times."

It didn't surprise me that I didn't hear him, I was halfway lost in my own head, digging around for everything I knew about things like quantum theory and linearly polarized light waves.

"Alchemy. I dabble. We didn't have anything like it back where I'm from, so now that I have it it's endlessly exciting."

I dug out my notebook and handed it to him. It's not like he could read any of the important stuff anyway.

"Here, I was working on pages 78 through 83, I'm not quite sure what to do about the possibility of radiation poisoning, though, so it's gonna be a while before this is actively useful."

He opened the book, looking curious, but once he started reading there was stark disbelief on his face. He quickly snapped it shut and handed it back.

"I think I have a headache now. Alchemists, tearing apart the fabric of the universe with nothing but chalk and maybe a screwdriver."

I laughed,

"Maybe we should make that our new motto."

He laughed too, and we joked around until we were back at the office. From there he went back to his work, and I sat down at my desk to look through the file that Mustang had left me. I was halfway through filling out some of the case-related paperwork when what Havoc said truly hit me. I froze, my pen freezing with me, sitting in mid-air just over the paper. Could I make a Sonic screwdriver? Not exactly like the Doctors of course, but Alchemy could do many things. Getting a small device that could unlock doors like that or detach wire from fences and all the small things could be dead useful, not to mention as an analytical tool if I could figure out the alchemy for that. And if I wanted something familiar and fandom-themed then who the hell would know otherwise? The blue light at the end would be the alchemic activation, and the sound would be the circle also, and perhaps the sound waves hitting one another as they were scrambled to do something I needed, but-

A paper ball hit me in the head. I glared at Havoc, his arm still outstretched from throwing it.

"You're doing it again, half-pint. All that thinking can't be good for you."

I stuck my tongue out at him. If he wasn't being mature, then I sure as hell wasn't either. I went back to the paperwork, but not before making a note about the Sonic screwdriver. I could make the outer casing using the pen I had as a model. If this worked it was going to be the greatest thing in Whovian history. To me anyway. Not like anyone else was going to see it and understand what it was.

My train of thought probably explained why my dreams were haunted with scratchy voices yelling 'Exterminate' and a bunch of women in pink chasing me around the cafeteria, and my long-dead grandmother telling me very seriously that soda was going extinct, all the while petting a platypus like some sort of cartoon villain with a cat. When someone shook me awake I sat up quickly, automatically trying to shake off the weirdness of that one, hands instinctively coming up to cover my face from the platypus things attack. Honestly, sometimes I'm positive I'm losing my mind. I looked up at the figure blocking the light only to freeze. Hawkeye. I scrambled for my paperwork, I'd already heard horror stories about her and what she did to those who didn't do their paperwork, as well as when I had seen her in the anime, firing near-missing shots at lazy officers, and the odd disobedient dog.

"I have it all done, I swear, it's here somewhere just give me a second, ah, sweet cheese, please tell me it's here somewhere...There it is!"

I triumphantly brandished the completed folder, handing it to her. I had switched languages for a bit in my terror, but she didn't seem to mind, she took the folder, sighing.

"Arcaro, how long have you been here?"

I blinked up at her, wishing I knew in that moment without searching my soul where my newly acquired reading glasses had gone to, I had a headache from all that reading without them, before I fell asleep.

"Ah, what day is it?"

Shit. Old habits die hard. Normal people ask what time, but I was so used to just powering through until it was done because I get sucked into it that forget that fact. She looked pained, the most emotion I had seen on her face, probably ever.

"It's Wednesday."

I frowned, thinking.

"That's not so bad, the 12th, right? I even ate a full meal yesterday, well I think it was yesterday. Doesn't seem like yesterday. Someone told me it was Tuesday the 11th. Sweet. I think I'm getting better at this."

The pained look was gone. She was stone-faced once more.

"Go home, Arcaro. Eat. Drink something other than coffee or soda. There are physicals next week and if I find out you're underweight…"

I squeaked and saluted, I may have let out a garbled,

"Yes ma'am." and then she was gone. I sighed and slouched down, jumping straight back up again when she poked her head out from Mustang's office.

"I'm serious, Sergeant, get some sleep."

Sleep sounded nice. But I had so much to do…And it's not like I could just sleep on command. If my brain wasn't stopping then I wasn't sleeping, not like I'm on the normal 24-hour mental clock. One look at Hawkeye's expression had me packing my stuff for home. I usually count my days by workouts and showers, and when I would need to do the laundry that would be building up in my locker. Sometimes I would shower twice a day though, or work out more than once. That threw me off, more often than not. That's probably why I was wrong. It wasn't the 12th. I passed a calendar, all the days were crossed out before today. It was apparently Wednesday the 19th.

I left for my apartment surrounded by anime gloom. Hawkeye probably thought me incompetent now. How could I lose an entire week? I was getting worse, constantly getting sucked into work or projects and ignoring people and my own health. What if Hughes had called while I was at the office for several days straight? What if he needed help? I was a horrible subordinate. I had practically abandoned him for work that probably wasn't all that important in the grand scheme of things. My old habits were fine when it was my high school homework at risk, but with lives on the line I really needed to get my shit together. I decided I would eat, like Hawkeye told me to, because she was scary. And because the moment I opened the fridge I felt hunger hit me with roughly the same amount of force as a car bomb. My hands shook as I tried to make soup. I didn't have the ingredients for much else, but the moment I saw the potatoes I knew I had to have it.

I drank tea, and listened to music on the radio, determined to have a quiet night in. Or day, rather, it was close to noon. I didn't know any more concrete timelines, and I wasn't sure what was next, or when. But I did know that things needed to change. I needed to step up my game. I would get a watch with an alarm on it or something, or three rather. One for food, one for 'sleep', and another for when I should take a break and go for a run. Speed was my only asset, I really should keep it sharp, or I would be as good as dead. But on that same note, my strange sleep cycle, not strictly needing sleep at certain times like everyone else, it was dead useful. And I definitely didn't want to train myself back into the normal swing of things sleep-wise...The timer for the food went off, and I leapt for a bowl. I had used the recipe my aunt taught me, which meant that it was supposed to feed a family of around 7. Now it would feed me for quite a while. I washed up, then stuck a lid on the pot and threw the entire thing into the fridge, no use putting it into smaller containers, just more washing to do later.

I was dead set on settling down on the couch to finish reading the alchemical text that I had bought a while ago, but the moment my ass hit the cushion I was out. It was dark when I woke. I was still tired, I could feel it in the fog that pressed down on my mind, and locked up my joints. I sat still, trying to figure out what had woken me in the first place. Silence-then a knock on my door. Soft, yet demanding. I stood, my joints cracking. I dumped my tea in the sink, it had gone cold long ago, and the sugar had solidified on the bottom of the mug. I straightened my shirt, and half-heartedly dragged a hand through my hair. I opened the door, mouth open to tell whoever it was to go away when I was greeted with probably the strangest sight of my life. Havoc, and it was obviously him despite the mask, the smell of his brand of cigarettes hung in the air, heavier than any perfume, was standing in my doorway. Beside him was a suit of armor. Standing on its own, holding its own head. And waving at me.

I blinked slowly, closing my mouth with an audible noise. I glanced down the hallway, making sure no one was there, tugging them both inside. Both were looking around, curious, and I examined it self-consciously. There were books everywhere, and the couch was obviously slept on, but other than that it was clean, if a bit dusty. I sat down heavily at the kitchen table, motioning for them to take a seat. They did, no words had been spoken yet. I drew in a breath to say something but Havoc cut me off.

"I'm really sorry about this half-pint but we need a place to hide Barry."

I raised an eyebrow,

"We?"

He squirmed under my gaze, and I did a mental happy dance. I was successfully channeling Hawkeye.

"Er, the Boss wants him somewhere he won't be seen, and I thought you could hide him…" I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, feeling that headache coming back.

"So the first person you thought of for a hiding place was the person who is never home, who lives exactly in the middle of military housing?"

He grinned sheepishly, and I sighed,

"How do you even know where I live?"

He shrugged,

"We all memorized your address when you were assigned our unit, just in case something happened."

I struggled not to feel touched. I wanted to get all warm and fuzzy inside about that, but if hiding a fugitive was the sort of thing that they were going to do with it then I feared the future of my apartment. I rolled my eyes, standing.

"How long are you guys going to be here?"

Havoc rushed to answer,

"Only a little while, we'll leave tomorrow night! You won't even know we're here!"

With anime accuracy his stomach immediately growled. I automatically moved toward the fridge, while he stammered about how I must have mice.

I pulled out the soup and ladled some of it into a bowl, activating the circle I had painted on the bottom because I was sick and tired of the microwave not being a thing here. There was a flash, and I grabbed a spoon and handed both to him. He looked at it suspiciously and I sighed.

"I just warmed it up. Eat it, I'm not going to poison you."

I wandered out of the room to get blankets and pillows so he would be comfortable on the couch. He may be a guest, but I was so stiff I was willing to swear I had started to go into rigor mortis before they knocked on my door, the bed was mine. I tossed a fuzzy blue blanket and a pillow down on the couch and started making more tea.

"Are you going to explain to me about the whole 'Barry's head is detachable' thing, or is that above my paygrade?"

I was met with silence, after it had lasted more than a few seconds I shrugged, plopping a cup of Alchemy-made tea down in front of him.

"Fine. Blanket's on the couch, the bathroom's through the door to the left, and I'm on the right. Towels are in the cabinet by the door. There's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink."

"That's IT? No, 'tell me now, or get out'? And why do you have a spare toothbrush, anyway?"

I looked at him like he was stupid.

"I work for the military, there are going to be things I'm not allowed to know, especially as a foreign national. I trust you guys to do what's right, or at least pick the least of the evils available. And that brand of toothbrushes comes in packs of two, I hope you like pink."

[Toothbush? Toothbrushes? Toothbrushii? Toothbreeshes like geese?] Shaking off the intrusive thoughts I turned to Barry, giving him a smile.

"Enjoy your stay. If you get bored there are books...well, everywhere. Help yourself, anything classified or personal is encoded six ways to Sunday, so I'm not really worried about any of it."

I turned towards my bedroom waving behind me,

"Night, all."

I left a shell-shocked Havoc in my kitchen/living room, I could hear Barry laughing, probably at his expression. I saw the bed and all the exhaustion I had been pressing back come rushing to the front. I changed into a tank top and sweatpants left over from boot camp. I barely registered hitting the bed.

/./

~TimeLordOfPie