Ed spent that afternoon sifting through the mountains of evidence that dominated warehouse six. It was mostly coinage, which is what he was assigned to for the moment. There was other stuff in there as well, which he eyed curiously from two tables over but never got to check out.
He didn't touch the paper bills because, as he told the woman in charge of the evidence analysis, paper was paper, no matter what was printed on it. The best he could do was analyze the ink, but she told him not to worry about it for now.
As it turned out, not all the fake coins were as pure as the coppers Mustang had given him. In fact the majority of them were not pure enough to pass as real coins. They had beautiful, real looking exteriors with a mash of seemingly random metals making up the core.
And so he sat on a high stool at a long table laden with coppers, nickels, silvers and golds sorting, counting and writing out the individual make up of each.
It was long, tedious work and the novelty of it wore out very fast. Still, he was working three times faster than the other two alchemists sitting at the long table doing the same thing. They were not State Alchemists, he was surprised to note.
Aside from the polite greetings, the two mostly kept to each other, chatting as they worked like two people who knew each other very well.
One was a tall, lithe young man who liked to crack sly, witty jokes on the side. His name was Sean. He worked over a large sketchbook in which he had pre-drawn a number of metal-based arrays and flipped through several just to figure out the components of a single coin.
Anna was the other. She was a heavy-set middle aged woman with a kind face and a loud voice. She too had a series of pre-drawn arrays but preferred to (or maybe was only able to) work with silver coins.
Ed didn't need arrays. He picked up a coin at random, jotted down the percentage of each of the metals that made it up, and then tossed it carelessly in its appropriate pile. He worked absent mindedly, boredom written all over his face. He now knew, with certainty, that Mustang had given him this job for this very reason. It was boring as hell.
In the middle of inwardly cursing the Colonel, Ed looked up and noticed that Sean and Anna were watching him work, amused.
"I can see why they make the big bucks, those State Alchemists," remarked Sean teasingly.
"Are you actually working over there or are you just pretending?" Anna boomed at the teen. She seemed like a jolly woman by nature and her question was not meant to be unkind.
Ed blinked back at them, his mind taking a moment to catch up with current events.
"What? I'm working!" he said defensively. He lifted his notebook briefly, showing them his jotted notes.
Sean smiled, turning to Anna. "Didn't you know?" he said nodding in Ed's direction. "They say he does alchemy without a circle. Just," he pressed his hands together in an imitation of Ed's style and then held them out to the older woman, palms out, "like that. So it's true then?" he continued, looking at Ed.
Anna let out an impressed whistle. "I'm not even going to start to understand how that's possible," she said shaking her head.
"Am I right?" inquired Sean.
Ed looked down at his hands then back at the pair and nodded, amused.
Anna continued to stare at him. "How old are you?" she asked him suddenly. She was very direct.
Ed was uncomfortable talking about himself but thought it would be rude to just not answer. "I just turned thirteen," he said carefully and not without a bit of pride. He was testing the waters with these two. After his experience with the others working this case, he wasn't sure what to make of them.
"Good god, I have a son your age," she remarked in disbelief. "Lazy as hell but not half as good looking, mind you," she added winking at him. Ed's face flushed red at the quip and he fumbled with the coin he was examining. They laughed but it was a good natured exchange. Ed knew that he was going to get along with them. They were both so light-hearted, it was infectious.
He offered her a grin which both Sean and Anna returned. The tension of strangers was broken.
"Hey, how come they hired me anyway, if they already had the two of you working on it?" asked Ed, longing to be deep into the books waiting for him back at the hotel.
Sean's eyebrows rose as he waved his hand in the general direction of the money in the middle of the table. "It would probably take us months to go through all of this. Whereas you," he said, appraising Ed's pile of already sorted coins, which was considerably larger than Sean's and Anna's combined, "-will probably plough through it in three days."
"There were more of us," offered Anna, "but it was taking too long. I think the higher ups were trying to go easy on the budget by delegating the work to the few alchemists already on staff but it soon became obvious they had to hire a professional."
Ed chuckled at being called a professional.
"So instead of six of us monkeys working away at it," continued Sean bringing his knee to rest against the edge of the table, his foot on the highest rung of his stool, "they replaced four amateurs with one of you and kept the two best looking ones here for moral support," he said, motioning between him and Anna with a straight face.
Ed stared at him, unsure if the man was being serious. The corner of his mouth turned up the moment Anna cracked and started laughing.
"Less chatting and more working over there!" called the supervisor from across the room.
"Yes Ma'am!" Anna called back instantly as Sean and Ed ducked their heads back to the table chuckling.
They spent the rest of the afternoon in good humor. By the time Ed was making his way back to the hotel, he couldn't stop smiling and realized that it had been a long time since he'd laughed so hard.
When Ed checked in the next day, he was told, with extreme politeness, that he would be working in Evidence for the rest of the week. He groaned at the thought of spending day after day looking at coins but figured that he could probably bear it if Sean and Anna were at his table again.
To his immense disappointment, they weren't. The alchemists working there were two disgruntled older men Ed recognized from the meeting. They more or less ignored him the entire time. To be fair, they mostly ignored each other too, but that didn't make the long day any less tedious.
At about half way through the day, Sean appeared in the doorway and, catching Ed's attention, jerked his head in the direction of the door. With a glance around the room, Ed saw that the supervisor was busy and he got up to see what Sean wanted.
"You need a coffee break, my friend," the man told him, quite seriously, as soon as he was outside. "I'm heading there now, if you want to know where the staff room is."
Ed thought about it for a second then agreed. Everyone else came and went as they pleased and he desperately needed coffee.
Ed squinted in the bright sun after the darkness of the warehouse as the two of them made their way to the main building. Sean gave him a passing tour as they went.
"That's the garage, where they do the maintenance on all the automobiles. We don't have as many as the units in Central do though, because they're so expensive. And that there is warehouse four, it's used as surplus ammunition storage for the military."
All the buildings looked exactly the same on the outside but Ed knew what was housed in warehouse three before they got to it. It smelled very familiar and he was surprised to feel a pang of nostalgia.
"Horses," he said with certainty, smiling a little.
"Very good," said Sean, impressed. They veered from their path to poke their heads into the stables briefly. Ed smiled at the familiar smell of hay and horse. His family had never actually owned horses but they were a staple on most farms in the Resembool Valley.
Ed climbed up onto the bottom board of the nearby stall so he could see over the top at the velvet back of a chestnut mare. She snorted gently as he patted her neck.
Sean watched him closely, amused. "Do you like horses Mr. State Alchemist?" he teased.
Ed gave him a bashful smile and shrugged. "They're okay."
Sean joined him up on the stall wall and gave the horse an awkward pat on the flank. "The military is pushing us to phase out the mounted patrols but won't give us the funds to buy automobiles," he mused. "Personally, I think the mounted police can maneuver better in a crowd than an Auto ever could but times are changing, I guess."
"Autos don't spook though," Ed pointed out. "And they don't shit all over either," he added wryly remembering the less than admirable experiences of his youth.
"You come from east country, don't you?" said Sean gently. It was more of a statement than a question.
Again, thought Ed. Was it really that obvious?
Sean must have read his thoughts because he offered a kind smile. "Your accent comes through once in a while. Not always, mind you. But on certain words." He frowned a little. "I heard that Hartley was being an ass to you. Don't take it personally, he's an ass to everyone," he said flatly.
Ed sighed. "Well, you can't strap a cat worth two shots in a pond," he added grimly.
Sean just stared at him blankly. "I'm sorry, what?"
Ed returned his blank stare. "You can't…." he waved his hands in front of him trying to express himself, then sighed in resignation when he couldn't. "You know what, never mind. What I mean is, if that's the way he is, it can't be helped," he finished.
Sean just shook his head in amusement. "Also that," he said pointing at the young alchemist, "expressions like that give you away."
Ed just shrugged. He'd been living in and out of East City for little over a year now and he still felt like an outsider.
"All joking aside, though," continued Sean seriously, "and I don't normally give advice, but you shouldn't try to hide your roots. They're what make us who we are."
Ed mulled this over on the rest of the walk to the staff room. It was good advice, but in his experience, it was better to fit in. It made it easier for him and Al to get their way while traveling. He still didn't understand why people looked down on the East Country rural towns, but they did. Al's theory was that the area was uncomfortably too close to Ishval for most people. The farmers might as well have started the war the way the rest of the country treated them.
This had been a harsh reality for the two brothers when they had arrived in East City. The short time they had spent away from home, in Dublith, had not prepared them for the reality of the big city.
Ed was jolted from his musing by a passing man who nodded at him curtly, saying "Sir" as a greeting. He started noticing more people doing the same, even one woman outwardly saying, "Good afternoon, Fullmetal."
After the fifth person, Ed frowned at the smirk on Sean's face. "Why is everyone being so damn nice to me all of a sudden? It's creeping me out…"
"Well," said Sean like someone just itching to spill a secret, "the Boss did wring them out yesterday."
Ed remembered the conversation he'd overheard outside the boardroom. He honestly hadn't expected anything to come of it except more contempt from people forced to obey a kid.
Sean stopped in the hall just outside a room labeled Lunch Room and turned to Ed with a sly smile still plastered on his freckled face. "I expect it has more to do with the notice."
"What notice?"
"That notice," the man said while pointing to a notice board Ed had, ironically, failed to notice.
A large paper had been tacked to the center of the board. It stated, in rather bold letters:
-Official Notice-
From the Office of the Disciplinary Council.
A reminder on how to properly address a State Alchemist:
State Alchemists are official alchemists appointed by his excellency, the Furhrer King Bradley to serve Amestris in specialized fields of alchemy.
A State Alchemist holds rank equal to that of MAJOR within the military and should be addressed by their STATE APPOINTED TITLE and with all due respect befitting such a rank.
State Alchemists who hold a rank higher than MAJOR shall be addressed according to their rank with all due respect befitting such a rank unless their function as a State Appointed Alchemist takes priority over their military appointment for a specific assignment.
Failure to properly address official personnel is considered an act of insubordination and offenders will face disciplinary actions.
Ed looked around furtively suddenly very self-conscious. "Am I the only State Alchemist working with the police right now?"
"You sure are. And aren't you a celebrity," Sean teased.
Ed groaned and let his forehead fall against the notice board. He hated being saluted at HQ and was very glad for the informality of Mustang's crew. He didn't exactly love being looked down on or made fun of like that asshole had done yesterday but this. This took it to extremes the other way.
He didn't want to be singled out at all, good or bad. He had half a heart to tear the notice off the board. He knew Al would be laughing at him if he were here right now.
And like a moment out of a nightmare, a young, nervous-looking Private came striding up the hall towards him, stopped, saluted him crisply and handed him a folded paper. "Sir! You've been summoned by Colonel Mustang," he said, eyes fixed to a point somewhere above Ed's head (which annoyed the teen more than he cared to admit.)
Ed snatched the paper from him resisting an urge to look around to make sure no one was watching. The man continued to stand in front of him at attention. "Um, thanks?" Ed said and waved at the man awkwardly in dismissal wondering if he felt just as ridiculous saluting a teenager as Ed did being saluted at. The soldier visibly relaxed before walking away.
Sean turned to him then with one eyebrow raised. "Would you like me to start calling you 'Sir'?" he asked.
Ed gave him his best death glare and growled "don't you dare," the note scrunching in his metal fist.
As if suddenly remembering it was there, he looked at the paper before unfolding it and smoothing it flat against the wall. It didn't say much; only that Mustang wanted to see him. Now, apparently.
"What the hell does he want now," Ed mumbled, annoyed.
Al was waiting for him when he burst into Mustang's office. Ed was so surprised to see his brother there that the rant he'd been building up ever since leaving the police station died on his tongue.
"Al! What are you doing here?"
"The Colonel called me and asked me to come," answered Al excitedly.
Ed's amber eyes turned suspiciously to the dark haired man sitting at the large desk and he frowned. "So what was so important that you had to send a soldier to come find me? He saluted me, you know. I hate that!" whined the teen.
Mustang looked like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course he saluted you. He's supposed to," he said flatly. He rested his chin on his linked fingers and smirked at the younger alchemist. "How is your work going, by the way?"
Ed scowled at him. "Like cold molasses! All I do is stare at coins all day. And some of them are real jerks," he added moodily.
Mustang raised an eyebrow. "The coins?" he asked, amused.
"No, the people!" snapped the teen before adding, "smart ass."
"Ed is helping them analyze the make-up of the fake money," Al told Mustang, watching the exchange uncomfortably.
"Sounds riveting," said Mustang with that ever-present smirk.
"It sucks!" exclaimed Ed, throwing his hands up in the air for emphasis.
Mustang just watched with dispassion. "Moving on to more pressing matters," he interjected before Ed could start ranting, "I have a lead for you." Ed watched with a spark of hope as the Colonel pulled a paper from the top drawer of his desk.
The older man considered the sheet for a moment saying, "It's time sensitive, unfortunately. The man I want you to talk to is leaving for Creta in two days." Mustang held the paper out and Ed made a move to take it.
"But since you're already busy," Mustang continued, offering the paper to Al instead, "I thought maybe Alphonse could look into it."
Al was startled by this, his armor clinking with the sudden jerk of his surprise. Ed, too, was surprised. The brothers looked at each other for a moment, then at Mustang.
"Alone?"
Mustang gave the younger Elric a reassuring smile. "If you take the first train in the morning, you can catch him before he leaves," he said.
"What are you scheming?" demanded Ed.
Mustang just shook his head innocently and shrugged. "Nothing. I said I'd get you leads. This man is a professor and an archeologist and has done extensive research into the ancient Xerxes civilization."
Ed raised his eyebrow skeptically. "How's an archeologist gonna help us with alchemy?"
"He's published several books about alchemy too," remarked Mustang. "But he's only in Amestris for a brief visit. Unfortunately, I can't justify sending a State Alchemist just to talk to a professor. That's why I think it would be best if Alphonse went," he said, turning his dark eyes on the towering suit of armor.
Despite his imposing size, Al gave away his true age by his mannerisms. He hung his head shyly. "I've never taken the train alone before. How far is it?" he asked his feet.
"Central. His name is Dr. Charles Beckner, he's a visiting professor at Central University."
Al took the sheet from Mustang and turned to his brother. "What do you think Ed?"
Ed thought about it with a slight frown. "They say the people of Xerxes were excellent alchemists. Maybe we could learn a thing or two from this guy. Although," he added, his eyebrows drawing together in concern, "I don't really like the thought of you going on your own."
"It can't be that hard!" said Al, getting excited at the first real adventure he'd be taking on his own. "You know, you're not much older than me brother. And people treat me like an adult anyway. Beside, I'm the one who always has to buy our tickets."
Mustang raised an eyebrow at this, amused. Ed chose to ignore him.
"Fine!" relented the older Elric. "But come straight back. Don't talk to strange people. And call me when you get there."
"You're such a caring older brother, Fullmetal," remarked Mustang, leaning back in his chair and watching the exchange with amusement.
"Shut up!" retorted the teen.
"Why are you always so rude, Ed," admonished the younger Elric almost instantly.
Ed glared at Mustang as a thought suddenly struck him. "If you were planning on giving this to Al from the start, why the hell did you summon me for?"
Ed could just imagine the smart ass replies that were going through Mustang's head.
Because I know how much you hate being summoned.
Because I knew sending a Private to get you would piss you off.
Because I wanted to see and relish in the misery I put you in.
But Mustang just stared at him thoughtfully. "Don't you want to know when I'm sending your little brother to Central by himself to meet a complete stranger?" he asked simply. "Besides, this concerns you too, even if you're not going."
Ed struggled between admitting that the Colonel was right and insulting him.
Before he could make up his mind, Mustang waved an impatient hand at them, shooing them towards the door. "Now, if you'll kindly get lost, I have work to do."
"You? Work? As if," scoffed Ed. "C'mon Al, I sure as hell don't wanna stick around while he calls his girlfriend."
"Speaking of girlfriends," called Mustang as the young alchemists made their way to the door, "I really ought to thank you, Fullmetal. It seems that my chances with Jenny just got better."
Ed frowned suspiciously at the smirk on the older man's face. "The hell are on about?"
"Oh, Jean's sweetheart Jenny MacKay," he said airily, "a fine lady, and very talented too. Of course, she'll probably dump him after he makes a fool of himself in front of a full auditorium. I heard he asked you to teach him and that you shot down his desperate plea for help."
Ed made the connection from the other day and rolled his eyes. He made several starts like he couldn't decide on how to respond to that. Finally he settled on astonished sarcasm. "Did everyone miss the part about me being dismembered?" he said acidly.
"If you mean how pathetic you looked the day we met? Trust me, I'll be remembering that for a long time," replied Mustang smoothly.
Ed glared at him. "Fuck you."
"Brother!-"
Ed shot his little brother a dark look for the reprimand but said nothing and turned to leave.
Again, Mustang called to him. "I have to admit, Edward, I didn't think you had it in you to be so cruel," he said.
"I'm not cruel!" snapped the teen instantly, whirling back around.
"I told Breda you couldn't do it," continued Mustang loftily, "but he seems to be under the impression that your apparent genius knows no bounds." He smirked at the teen's rising temper. "So we bet on it. Thanks to you, I'm looking to gain a pretty girlfriend and five hundred cenz."
"You bet on me?!" Ed shrieked.
Mustang shrugged casually, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk, enjoying himself immensely. "No, I bet against you. As if you can actually play anything let alone teach someone else," he scoffed.
"You're such an ass!" retorted the teen, "what the hell do you know!" Al could see that his brother was pissed and looked from one State Alchemist to the other following the exchange warily. Ed always lost his temper with Mustang.
"I like to think I know you pretty well actually," replied the older man smoothly. And Al agreed that there was more truth to that than Ed would ever know.
Ed drew himself up and stalked into the outer office where the rest of Mustang's staff worked on steadily. They had gotten really good at listening while not listening to the shouting matches.
"Havoc!" barked the teen, pointing in the man's direction and making him jump. "I swear you're gonna play that thing like a pro by the time I'm done with you or I'll kill you! No way in hell am I gonna let Mustang bet against me and win!" he shouted.
Before Havoc could wipe the astonished look from his face, Ed had stalked back into Mustang's office and planted himself in the doorway. "You don't know shit!" he proclaimed before whirling away without waiting for Al and slamming doors behind him.
In the quiet wake of this spectacle, the staff exchanged confused glances. Havoc was both ecstatic and worried for his life. Hawkeye looked into the Colonel's office with a frown touched with amusement (which was something only she could manage).
Al turned to the older alchemist and sighed, always embarrassed by his brother's outbursts.
"There was no bet, was there," he said flatly.
Mustang's smirk only widened. "Honestly, Alphonse. I wonder sometimes, which one of you is actually the genius," he said wryly.
Yes, Mustang knew Edward Elric very well.
A/N:
1) You can't strap a cat worth two shots in a pond. Speaking as someone who married into a different culture, I can tell you that though the expression is made up, the confusion caused by such expressions (that often make little sense to outsiders) is very real.
2)Being a State Alchemist does not make you a Major automatically. They hold rank equal to Major, but Ed was never trained as a soldier and shouldn't be called "Major" unless he's earned it. My personal take on the system, of course.
3)Cold Molasses is a real expression. It means slow.
4)Mustang is a jerk, but we love him anyway. And he sure knows how to push Ed's buttons. :D
5)Thank you! Thank You! Thank You! For everyone who reviewed, makes my day! ^_^