FMA Fic: "Miss The Girl" 3/8
Title: Miss the Girl
Author: evil_little_dog
Beta Names: cornerofmadness, suspicious, bob_fish for one particular section.
Artist Names: dreamer1789; Yoporock.
Genre: Mystery/Angst
Rating: Teen edging into Adult for violence.
Wordcount: Approximately 52,000
Pairing/Characters: Edward/Winry UST, Al/Paninya, Al/Various Others, Riza/Roy.
Warnings: Future!Fic, triptych piece for Miss the Journey and Nothing Gold Can Stay but it isn’t necessary for you to have read either of those ficlets to understand this story. Violence, murder, alcohol abuse, light mentions of drug use, light mentions of multiple-partner sex. Oh, and language, though warning you of language in an FMA fic just seems like overkill.
Summary: After being away for many years, Edward and Alphonse return to East City to find Winry Rockbell being hunted by a sadistic murderer. Can they find him and repair their relationship with Winry before it's too late?
Disclaimer: Just playing in Arakawa’s sandbox. I promise to dust off the toys and put them back where I found them when I’m done.
A.N. Written for 2009-2010 fma_big_bang.
* * *
Chapters 1 and 2
Chapters 3 and 4
Chapter 5
Silence is one of the hardest arguments to refute. - Josh Billings
* * *
“Nng, why wouldn’t she answer?” Edward kicked a trash can, sending it flying. At least Winry had fixed him up enough that he could move. Afterward, she’d gone through the entire process of measuring him for new automail. Edward thought it was one of the more awkward and humiliating experiences in his life. He’d never considered it before but with everything Winry told them, and the fact that she wasn’t smiling or yelling or joking with him while she was taking the measurements, just made it feel incredibly weird.
“Brother, didn’t Winry tell you to take it easy with that automail?” Alphonse sighed from behind him. “Pick up the trash and fix the can.”
Grumbling, Edward picked up the can. “I just wish she’d answered me.” He thumped the can, trying to straighten out the dent without alchemy. With a grunt, he forced the dent out. Gathering up the trash, he pitched it into the can. “I hate that Winry thought we didn’t care.”
Alphonse grabbed a stray newspaper page, balling it up and throwing it hard enough to make the trash can ring. “I wonder why that letter didn’t get to us.”
They exchanged a look though neither of them spoke aloud. Being guests of the emperor of Xing didn’t mean that they had any special rights. If Winry’s letter had been intercepted, they’d never know. Had one of Ling’s advisors kept the letter from reaching the brothers? Ran Fan? Or Ling himself? Even if Ling, in his own way, had liked Winry, if only because he found her attractive and thought flirting with her was a good way to get under Edward’s skin, the homunculus inside Ling’s body had been slowly taking over and gaining ground, no matter how hard Ling fought it. Greed would have no qualms about destroying a letter that might take the alchemists away from his side prior to his giving them leave to go. Edward shook his head minutely. It didn’t matter in the long run. They hadn’t received the letter and it had damaged their…well, whatever it was they had with Winry.
“Why would he leave her?” That was the other question plaguing him.
The corner of Alphonse’s mouth jerked, almost like it had a hook caught in it. “I don’t know, Brother.” He shoved his hands deep in his trouser pockets.
It was another thing they didn’t need to say. They’d left Winry, too.
* * *
Captain Heymans Breda hated being called out for this sort of thing. He hadn’t been interested in joining Investigations. He preferred knowing what was going on from behind those scenes. Still, when the meeting with the military police was cut short by an urgent phone call, he’d offered to go out to the site so Hawkeye could continue working - not to mention, contact Fuhrer Mustang about what was happening.
The photographer moved around the room, snapping pictures. Each time the flashbulb went off, the room lit up in a garish shade of blue; not quite like that lightning shade of certain types of alchemy. The weird light turned the bloodstains a lurid shade of purple. The flash tinted the body’s skin to the blue of shadowed snow.
Another man moved around the room, making notes and sketching diagrams as he paced. Breda hoped he’d get a chance to see those notes. He’d make sure to ask for them.
“Not too much stuff. These guys,” the note taker tapped a suitcase with the toe of his shoe, “they travel light.”
Breda grunted in response.
“Wonder if they’ve done this elsewhere.” The note taker - Detective Gerdello - used the end of his pencil to scratch at his hairline, leaving behind a streak of graphite on his broad forehead.
“S’pose that’s your job to find out,” Breda said.
Gerdello peered at him over his glasses, reminding Breda of Hughes for a second, then the resemblance was lost. “I understand you know the two men who’ve rented this room.”
“They’re currently assigned to my boss.”
“Hmm. But according to my notes, they’re not actually military?” Gerdello flipped through his notepad. “Military attachés?”
The general, unvocalized title for the Elric brothers was ‘trouble’, but Breda wasn’t going to actually say that. They couldn’t exactly help bad news being attracted to them like a magnet to Ed’s metal limbs, but it would really help if they could just stay low for once. “Yeah. They don’t have any military ranking.” Any more, at least, and Al had never joined the military.
“Interesting.” Gerdello made that word sound anything but.
You don’t know the half of it, Breda thought, turning his attention to the body displayed on the bed. There really wasn’t any other word for it. Someone had gone to some effort to pose the woman. She’d been put in a position of subjugation, pillows used to prop her up so her ass was in the air and her face buried in the mattress. Tools were scattered around the body, the head of a screwdriver protruding from between her legs. Her blond hair was spread over her back and framed her skull. Fingerless work gloves wrapped around her hands.
Of course, the hotel manager had no idea how the woman had gotten in the room or who might’ve put her here. It was pretty obvious someone had been horrified at the sight. The stink of vomit still lingered. That would’ve been the maid, Breda thought, and almost wished her cleaning cart was handy enough to find something to take the stench out of the air.
Gerdello tapped his pencil against his lips. “So, do you know where the men who rented this room are now?”
“What the hell?” Edward’s voice rose in disbelief in the hall. Breda managed not to wince, mentally thanking his years at chess, poker and Go for remaining impassive under Gerdello’s stare. Those brats had the worst timing, ever.
“Sounds like maybe they’ve come home, huh?” Gerdello smiled, turning toward the door.
“This is our room! What the hell is going on? Why can’t we go in?”
“Brother,” Alphonse chided, somewhere between aggrieved and soothing.
Gerdello left the bedroom, Breda following close behind. Why couldn’t the brothers still be at the Rockbell clinic? “Let them in, sergeant,” Gerdello said.
“Thanks.” Edward snarled the platitude. He stood inside the doorway, Alphonse slipping in behind him. Despite their very evident similarities, there was no way one could be mistaken for the other. Edward slouched through life, hands shoved in his pockets, a stick usually hanging out of his mouth. It was a wonder he’d never taken up smoking. Edward’s prickly temper, as well as his stunning lack of height, remained legendary. Alphonse, on the other hand, was smooth as water, polished and poised. He was more than a head taller than his brother, with a slimmer build. If Edward was a bad-tempered, little feist mutt, Alphonse was one of those weird Xingese cats, with the claws to match.
Edward was even showing his teeth now. “Nice of you to let us into our room.” He craned his neck, nose wrinkling as he caught the scent. “What’s,” he waved a hand in front of his face, “going on, anyway?”
“Allow me to introduce myself, gentlemen.” Gerdello’s smile hadn’t left his face. “Detective Paul Gerdello, of the East City military police.”
“Yeah?” The hackles started bristling.
Alphonse all but rolled his eyes. His “Brother,” did little to mollify Edward. “I’m Alphonse Elric, Detective, and this is my brother, Edward.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of you.” Gerdello made it sound as if the brothers were out and out murderers.
Edward’s eyelids drooped, the corners of his mouth turning down. “We haven’t heard of you.” Alphonse’s hiss did nothing to contain Edward, who went on, “And no one’s bothered telling us what’s going on in our room.”
“Actually, I was hoping you might be able to explain that.” Gerdello turned, beckoning for the brothers to follow.
Breda made a low noise, deep in his throat.
“Something wrong, Captain?” Alphonse looked his way.
Edward froze in the bedroom doorway. His hands clenched the jamb hard enough that Breda was sure he heard the wood scream. “What the fuck?”
Alphonse whipped back around, almost before Edward got out the first syllable. He took a step closer, peering over his brother’s shoulder. For a quarter of a second, maybe less, they were frozen there, faces paling, eyes widening. Edward coughed, covering his mouth with one hand, clutching his stomach with the other. Alphonse inhaled deeply, his mouth thinning. “Detective Gerdello, you don’t think we did that to that poor woman.”
Art by dreamer1789
Gerdello shrugged. “She is in your room.”
Upper lip twitching, Alphonse said, “And that’s a presumption of guilt.”
“You said it, Mr. Elric, not me.” Pencil gesturing toward the woman, Gerdello said, “Mind telling me what this is all about?”
“I don’t know.” Alphonse wrapped his arms around himself, as if trying to seek some comfort that way. “Why don’t you tell me?”
The end of the pencil went in Gerdello’s mouth as he flipped his notebook back a few pages. “Last night, you, Mr. Elric,” he shifted the pencil to the side of his mouth, as adroit as any smoker, “were seen arguing with a Mrs. Winry Rockbell.”
Edward slid down the wall, wrapping his arms around his legs, his face pressed against his knees. Breda figured he was gonna puke any time now.
Somehow, Alphonse managed to sound only faintly impatient. “What about it?”
“Well, as Mrs. Rockbell is a well-known figure in the area, maybe you two were afraid you’d get in trouble, doing her like that. But this girl,” Gerdello waved his notebook toward the bedroom, “why, she’s just a prostitute, right? Who’d care if she went missing.”
Silence ticked by for a good five seconds before Edward tilted his head back, swallowing hard enough his larynx bobbed. “You think I did that because of Winry?”
Edward exploded off the floor, Breda hard pressed to catch him before he attacked Gerdello. Dammit, why’d the brat have to be so heavy? “Ed! Chief! Calm down.”
Alphonse stepped between his brother and Gerdello, blocking out Breda’s sight of the detective’s oily smile. “Be very careful what you say, Detective.” From the back, his jacket wrinkled, showing the tension in his shoulders.
“Let go.” There was a tone to Edward’s voice Breda had never heard before. Edward jerked free, taking a step to join Alphonse. Right hand swinging up, his automail whined at how tightly Edward clenched his fist. “If you think we’d do anything to hurt a woman -”
“Chief.” Breda growled, trying to regain control of the situation.
“It’s all right, Captain.” Gerdello scribbled a few more notes in his pad. “It just makes me think I need to invite you two to come down to my station, so we can have a little discussion.”
“Maybe you want to invite Winry down, too,” Edward snapped. “At least we’d know she was safe.”
Alphonse half turned, the stillness on his face indicating more than anything he might have said, that he hadn’t thought of Winry possibly being in danger. “Brother,” he murmured, his hand falling on Edward’s shoulder.
“You didn’t think that?” Edward glanced toward the room, shaking his head. “Dammit, if something happens to her - ”
“Nothing’s gonna happen to her, Chief. I’ll talk to the General, get Mrs. Rockbell some protection.” Breda dared Gerdello to naysay him.
The brothers exchanged a look. “I’m not going anywhere until I know Winry’s okay.” Edward’s chin jutted out.
“Me either, Detective.” Alphonse’s jaw flexed.
Gerdello sighed. “Fine, fine, you can call her from the station -”
“You don’t get it, do you? We’re not going anywhere except to wherever Winry is and then she’s coming with us.” Edward bared his teeth. “No offense, Captain, Detective, but we can protect her better than you can.”
“You don’t want to argue with us about this, Detective.” The knife blade smile Alphonse turned Gerdello’s way was nearly sharp enough to scare Breda. “Trust me.”
* * *
This just didn’t seem to be her day.
Winry stared at the man standing in the doorway to her work room. “I beg your pardon?” Her fingers started aching and she tried to relax her grip on the light weight socket wrench. It was too bad this detective was yanking so hard on her chain.
“The Elric brothers are under suspicion of murder,” he repeated.
“Ed and Al?” The detective took a reflexive step back from her work table and Winry decided she liked that. What idiot in his right mind would think the Elrics would kill someone? “I think you’ve got the wrong suspects. In fact, I know you’ve got the wrong suspects.” Winry dismissed the detective by turning to the wall and the schematic of the automail hand she had pinned to it. “Not sure why you’re telling me, anyway.”
Winry caught him chewing his lower lip out of the corner of her eye. When he realized she was looking, he snapped, “Because they insisted they weren’t going to the station without you.”
“Me?” Scoffing, Winry waved her hands. “I’m not going to the police station with the Elrics.” The ‘or you’ should have been clearly understood from her reaction.
The detective straightened. “I don’t think you understand, Mrs. Rockbell.”
Winry very carefully set down her socket wrench. It wasn’t all that long ago that she would’ve considered throwing it at the man. “No, I’m afraid you don’t, Detective. I’m not going anywhere with the Elric brothers, particularly not to a police station. I’m a very busy automail mechanic and have orders to fill and clients to see. I do not have time to go anywhere. If you have questions, you can ask me, now, before my next client comes in.” She fished her fingerless gloves out of her pockets, sliding them on. The detective glanced at the gloves, taking a longer, appraising look at her. Winry bristled at his audacity. “What?”
“Mrs. Rockbell, the Elric brothers are concerned about your safety.” His expression changed, though Winry wasn’t sure how to read it. “Frankly, I think they might have good reason to be. I would like you to come to the station with us.”
“Look, Detective, I don’t have time for riddles.” Winry only managed to keep from shoving a finger in his face by slamming her fists on her hips.
He sighed. “Your life could be in danger, Mrs. Rockbell. I don’t know any plainer way to say it than that.”
The air seemed to leave Winry’s lungs with a whoosh. A part of her laughed uproariously at the idea but another part remembered Scar and that alley; her parents’ death; a stellate scar on Ed’s stomach that was replicated on his back. Grant. For a few seconds, the room was tinged in red and Winry could hear nothing beyond the pounding of her own heart.
When she raised her head, she found the detective watching her the way she might watch a feral dog. Winry smiled and that seemed to make him even more nervous. “Then we’ll need to get my son, too.” When the man opened his mouth, she cut him off. “Right now.”
* * *
Riza had chosen the café not only for its close proximity to the military headquarters but also because there was always at least one delicious soup on the menu. And, after today, she felt like she needed warming up. The fact that the café had a tiny fireplace, lit with a crackling fire, felt like a bonus. Of course, there was always the problem of it being popular with both military personnel and hangers on. Riza knew she could trust personal staff not to tell tales. That didn’t necessarily carry over to the general populace.
That didn’t stop her from relaxing a tiny bit as she took the chair across from her friend, accepting the waiter’s suggestion of hot tea to drink though she did request a glass of iced water to go with it. Across from her, Rebecca Catalina pretended to study her menu, but her dark eyes kept flicking over the top of the pages to Riza. At least she had the decency to wait until the waiter walked away from the table before pouncing.
“So, what’s the situation?” Rebecca was nothing if not to the point.
“Besides the Fullmetal Alchemist picking a fight with the owner of a sulfur mine?” Riza couldn’t hide her irritation behind a lunch menu. Maybe a few stiff drinks. No, that was Roy talking in her head, If she let him in there, Riza knew she’d be ringing him up when she returned to the office. Which would mean neither of them would be doing their jobs and, despite being separated by kilometers and alone in their offices, they might wind up committing scandalous deeds. And I don’t think Sciezca could handle that.
Rebecca clicked her tongue. “Is that all?”
No, it wasn’t, but Riza was not going to dish that information, even in a crowded café. Reporters seemed to lurk around, waiting for rumors to expand on for their papers. Edward and Alphonse getting taken to the police station for questioning - and dragging Winry in on it - was not something she was going to share in public. Maybe not even behind closed doors at the military HQ. “Mm.” That was certainly a noncommittal answer. “I’m attempting to patch up a relationship.”
That made Rebecca’s mouth purse. “Oh, ho, ho.” She leaned back in her chair, eyes alight with the promise of gossip. “What has your darling husband done now?”
With a cool blink, Riza allowed her friend to consider that statement. “Nothing.”
The waiter brought them warm bread with herbed butter, offering to refresh their drinks. Busying themselves with the food until he had left their table, neither woman spoke until Rebecca asked, “Nothing?” She sounded so disbelieving.
Riza fixed her with a gimlet eye. “Nothing.” And it was a severe distraction, too. Locking the office door and indulging in a little telephone sex was starting to sound better and better. Roy had made the offer to come to East City for Longest Night but Riza overruled him, saying it was best he remain in Central. Even if Maizy missed her father and Riza missed her lover - that little tingle between her legs could easily become a throb, if she let it. Riza ignored the sensation, forcing herself to concentrate on the matter at hand - it was best they stay in their current locations, at least for the time being.
“Well, that’s your problem then,” Rebecca said, inadvertently adding fuel to the fire. She took a bite of her bread, all but purring. “Deelish.”
Riza just managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. “I’m talking about Winry Rockbell.”
“That automail mechanic?” Rebecca licked her fingertips clean of melted butter. Riza could see the mischievous bent in her friend’s smile and wondered if the waiter was watching from behind her. Rebecca was far too flirtatious and man hungry, even after all these years. Regardless, it made for a good cover. “Who are you setting her up with, someone working for your husband?” Her smile broadened. “That cute little Kain? He’s got the tightest butt.”
“Please.” Riza glared back. “Fuery prefers men.”
“He does? No wonder I couldn’t get a rise out of him.” Pouting playfully, Rebecca wriggled in her chair. “Your adjutant?”
“Breda’s seeing someone already. Before you ask, no, not Kain.”
The pout got bigger. “Havoc?”
“I’m starting to wonder why I think I can have any type of serious conversation with you.” Riza wiped her fingers clean on her napkin.
“Aww, I’m listening.” Batting her eyes, Rebecca leaned an elbow on the table, pillowing her chin in her cupped hand. “So, you’re trying to set up the automail mechanic.”
Put that way, it just sounded sordid. “Not set her up, repair a relationship.”
Rebecca wagged her head. “Eh, same thing. So, dish. Tell me more about the mechanic. I hear she’s smart and beautiful.” She twined a curly lock around her forefinger. “Smart, beautiful women can have just about anything they want.”
The comment brought a bittersweet curl to Riza’s mouth. “I think all she ever wanted was a family.” She met Rebecca’s gaze. “And the military seems to have had a hand in taking her family away from her almost every time. I feel it’s time to make a change to that and give her family back to her.”
Releasing the lock of hair so it bounced, Rebecca let out a long sigh. “Riza, honey, I really think you need to stop reading so many romance books.”
* * *
Chapter 6
Author: evil_little_dog
Beta Names: cornerofmadness, suspicious, bob_fish for one particular section.
Artist Names: dreamer1789; Yoporock.
Genre: Mystery/Angst
Rating: Teen edging into Adult for violence.
Wordcount: Approximately 52,000
Pairing/Characters: Edward/Winry UST, Al/Paninya, Al/Various Others, Riza/Roy.
Warnings: Future!Fic, triptych piece for Miss the Journey and Nothing Gold Can Stay but it isn’t necessary for you to have read either of those ficlets to understand this story. Violence, murder, alcohol abuse, light mentions of drug use, light mentions of multiple-partner sex. Oh, and language, though warning you of language in an FMA fic just seems like overkill.
Summary: After being away for many years, Edward and Alphonse return to East City to find Winry Rockbell being hunted by a sadistic murderer. Can they find him and repair their relationship with Winry before it's too late?
Disclaimer: Just playing in Arakawa’s sandbox. I promise to dust off the toys and put them back where I found them when I’m done.
A.N. Written for 2009-2010 fma_big_bang.
* * *
Chapters 1 and 2
Chapters 3 and 4
Chapter 5
Silence is one of the hardest arguments to refute. - Josh Billings
* * *
“Nng, why wouldn’t she answer?” Edward kicked a trash can, sending it flying. At least Winry had fixed him up enough that he could move. Afterward, she’d gone through the entire process of measuring him for new automail. Edward thought it was one of the more awkward and humiliating experiences in his life. He’d never considered it before but with everything Winry told them, and the fact that she wasn’t smiling or yelling or joking with him while she was taking the measurements, just made it feel incredibly weird.
“Brother, didn’t Winry tell you to take it easy with that automail?” Alphonse sighed from behind him. “Pick up the trash and fix the can.”
Grumbling, Edward picked up the can. “I just wish she’d answered me.” He thumped the can, trying to straighten out the dent without alchemy. With a grunt, he forced the dent out. Gathering up the trash, he pitched it into the can. “I hate that Winry thought we didn’t care.”
Alphonse grabbed a stray newspaper page, balling it up and throwing it hard enough to make the trash can ring. “I wonder why that letter didn’t get to us.”
They exchanged a look though neither of them spoke aloud. Being guests of the emperor of Xing didn’t mean that they had any special rights. If Winry’s letter had been intercepted, they’d never know. Had one of Ling’s advisors kept the letter from reaching the brothers? Ran Fan? Or Ling himself? Even if Ling, in his own way, had liked Winry, if only because he found her attractive and thought flirting with her was a good way to get under Edward’s skin, the homunculus inside Ling’s body had been slowly taking over and gaining ground, no matter how hard Ling fought it. Greed would have no qualms about destroying a letter that might take the alchemists away from his side prior to his giving them leave to go. Edward shook his head minutely. It didn’t matter in the long run. They hadn’t received the letter and it had damaged their…well, whatever it was they had with Winry.
“Why would he leave her?” That was the other question plaguing him.
The corner of Alphonse’s mouth jerked, almost like it had a hook caught in it. “I don’t know, Brother.” He shoved his hands deep in his trouser pockets.
It was another thing they didn’t need to say. They’d left Winry, too.
* * *
Captain Heymans Breda hated being called out for this sort of thing. He hadn’t been interested in joining Investigations. He preferred knowing what was going on from behind those scenes. Still, when the meeting with the military police was cut short by an urgent phone call, he’d offered to go out to the site so Hawkeye could continue working - not to mention, contact Fuhrer Mustang about what was happening.
The photographer moved around the room, snapping pictures. Each time the flashbulb went off, the room lit up in a garish shade of blue; not quite like that lightning shade of certain types of alchemy. The weird light turned the bloodstains a lurid shade of purple. The flash tinted the body’s skin to the blue of shadowed snow.
Another man moved around the room, making notes and sketching diagrams as he paced. Breda hoped he’d get a chance to see those notes. He’d make sure to ask for them.
“Not too much stuff. These guys,” the note taker tapped a suitcase with the toe of his shoe, “they travel light.”
Breda grunted in response.
“Wonder if they’ve done this elsewhere.” The note taker - Detective Gerdello - used the end of his pencil to scratch at his hairline, leaving behind a streak of graphite on his broad forehead.
“S’pose that’s your job to find out,” Breda said.
Gerdello peered at him over his glasses, reminding Breda of Hughes for a second, then the resemblance was lost. “I understand you know the two men who’ve rented this room.”
“They’re currently assigned to my boss.”
“Hmm. But according to my notes, they’re not actually military?” Gerdello flipped through his notepad. “Military attachés?”
The general, unvocalized title for the Elric brothers was ‘trouble’, but Breda wasn’t going to actually say that. They couldn’t exactly help bad news being attracted to them like a magnet to Ed’s metal limbs, but it would really help if they could just stay low for once. “Yeah. They don’t have any military ranking.” Any more, at least, and Al had never joined the military.
“Interesting.” Gerdello made that word sound anything but.
You don’t know the half of it, Breda thought, turning his attention to the body displayed on the bed. There really wasn’t any other word for it. Someone had gone to some effort to pose the woman. She’d been put in a position of subjugation, pillows used to prop her up so her ass was in the air and her face buried in the mattress. Tools were scattered around the body, the head of a screwdriver protruding from between her legs. Her blond hair was spread over her back and framed her skull. Fingerless work gloves wrapped around her hands.
Of course, the hotel manager had no idea how the woman had gotten in the room or who might’ve put her here. It was pretty obvious someone had been horrified at the sight. The stink of vomit still lingered. That would’ve been the maid, Breda thought, and almost wished her cleaning cart was handy enough to find something to take the stench out of the air.
Gerdello tapped his pencil against his lips. “So, do you know where the men who rented this room are now?”
“What the hell?” Edward’s voice rose in disbelief in the hall. Breda managed not to wince, mentally thanking his years at chess, poker and Go for remaining impassive under Gerdello’s stare. Those brats had the worst timing, ever.
“Sounds like maybe they’ve come home, huh?” Gerdello smiled, turning toward the door.
“This is our room! What the hell is going on? Why can’t we go in?”
“Brother,” Alphonse chided, somewhere between aggrieved and soothing.
Gerdello left the bedroom, Breda following close behind. Why couldn’t the brothers still be at the Rockbell clinic? “Let them in, sergeant,” Gerdello said.
“Thanks.” Edward snarled the platitude. He stood inside the doorway, Alphonse slipping in behind him. Despite their very evident similarities, there was no way one could be mistaken for the other. Edward slouched through life, hands shoved in his pockets, a stick usually hanging out of his mouth. It was a wonder he’d never taken up smoking. Edward’s prickly temper, as well as his stunning lack of height, remained legendary. Alphonse, on the other hand, was smooth as water, polished and poised. He was more than a head taller than his brother, with a slimmer build. If Edward was a bad-tempered, little feist mutt, Alphonse was one of those weird Xingese cats, with the claws to match.
Edward was even showing his teeth now. “Nice of you to let us into our room.” He craned his neck, nose wrinkling as he caught the scent. “What’s,” he waved a hand in front of his face, “going on, anyway?”
“Allow me to introduce myself, gentlemen.” Gerdello’s smile hadn’t left his face. “Detective Paul Gerdello, of the East City military police.”
“Yeah?” The hackles started bristling.
Alphonse all but rolled his eyes. His “Brother,” did little to mollify Edward. “I’m Alphonse Elric, Detective, and this is my brother, Edward.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of you.” Gerdello made it sound as if the brothers were out and out murderers.
Edward’s eyelids drooped, the corners of his mouth turning down. “We haven’t heard of you.” Alphonse’s hiss did nothing to contain Edward, who went on, “And no one’s bothered telling us what’s going on in our room.”
“Actually, I was hoping you might be able to explain that.” Gerdello turned, beckoning for the brothers to follow.
Breda made a low noise, deep in his throat.
“Something wrong, Captain?” Alphonse looked his way.
Edward froze in the bedroom doorway. His hands clenched the jamb hard enough that Breda was sure he heard the wood scream. “What the fuck?”
Alphonse whipped back around, almost before Edward got out the first syllable. He took a step closer, peering over his brother’s shoulder. For a quarter of a second, maybe less, they were frozen there, faces paling, eyes widening. Edward coughed, covering his mouth with one hand, clutching his stomach with the other. Alphonse inhaled deeply, his mouth thinning. “Detective Gerdello, you don’t think we did that to that poor woman.”
Art by dreamer1789
Gerdello shrugged. “She is in your room.”
Upper lip twitching, Alphonse said, “And that’s a presumption of guilt.”
“You said it, Mr. Elric, not me.” Pencil gesturing toward the woman, Gerdello said, “Mind telling me what this is all about?”
“I don’t know.” Alphonse wrapped his arms around himself, as if trying to seek some comfort that way. “Why don’t you tell me?”
The end of the pencil went in Gerdello’s mouth as he flipped his notebook back a few pages. “Last night, you, Mr. Elric,” he shifted the pencil to the side of his mouth, as adroit as any smoker, “were seen arguing with a Mrs. Winry Rockbell.”
Edward slid down the wall, wrapping his arms around his legs, his face pressed against his knees. Breda figured he was gonna puke any time now.
Somehow, Alphonse managed to sound only faintly impatient. “What about it?”
“Well, as Mrs. Rockbell is a well-known figure in the area, maybe you two were afraid you’d get in trouble, doing her like that. But this girl,” Gerdello waved his notebook toward the bedroom, “why, she’s just a prostitute, right? Who’d care if she went missing.”
Silence ticked by for a good five seconds before Edward tilted his head back, swallowing hard enough his larynx bobbed. “You think I did that because of Winry?”
Edward exploded off the floor, Breda hard pressed to catch him before he attacked Gerdello. Dammit, why’d the brat have to be so heavy? “Ed! Chief! Calm down.”
Alphonse stepped between his brother and Gerdello, blocking out Breda’s sight of the detective’s oily smile. “Be very careful what you say, Detective.” From the back, his jacket wrinkled, showing the tension in his shoulders.
“Let go.” There was a tone to Edward’s voice Breda had never heard before. Edward jerked free, taking a step to join Alphonse. Right hand swinging up, his automail whined at how tightly Edward clenched his fist. “If you think we’d do anything to hurt a woman -”
“Chief.” Breda growled, trying to regain control of the situation.
“It’s all right, Captain.” Gerdello scribbled a few more notes in his pad. “It just makes me think I need to invite you two to come down to my station, so we can have a little discussion.”
“Maybe you want to invite Winry down, too,” Edward snapped. “At least we’d know she was safe.”
Alphonse half turned, the stillness on his face indicating more than anything he might have said, that he hadn’t thought of Winry possibly being in danger. “Brother,” he murmured, his hand falling on Edward’s shoulder.
“You didn’t think that?” Edward glanced toward the room, shaking his head. “Dammit, if something happens to her - ”
“Nothing’s gonna happen to her, Chief. I’ll talk to the General, get Mrs. Rockbell some protection.” Breda dared Gerdello to naysay him.
The brothers exchanged a look. “I’m not going anywhere until I know Winry’s okay.” Edward’s chin jutted out.
“Me either, Detective.” Alphonse’s jaw flexed.
Gerdello sighed. “Fine, fine, you can call her from the station -”
“You don’t get it, do you? We’re not going anywhere except to wherever Winry is and then she’s coming with us.” Edward bared his teeth. “No offense, Captain, Detective, but we can protect her better than you can.”
“You don’t want to argue with us about this, Detective.” The knife blade smile Alphonse turned Gerdello’s way was nearly sharp enough to scare Breda. “Trust me.”
* * *
This just didn’t seem to be her day.
Winry stared at the man standing in the doorway to her work room. “I beg your pardon?” Her fingers started aching and she tried to relax her grip on the light weight socket wrench. It was too bad this detective was yanking so hard on her chain.
“The Elric brothers are under suspicion of murder,” he repeated.
“Ed and Al?” The detective took a reflexive step back from her work table and Winry decided she liked that. What idiot in his right mind would think the Elrics would kill someone? “I think you’ve got the wrong suspects. In fact, I know you’ve got the wrong suspects.” Winry dismissed the detective by turning to the wall and the schematic of the automail hand she had pinned to it. “Not sure why you’re telling me, anyway.”
Winry caught him chewing his lower lip out of the corner of her eye. When he realized she was looking, he snapped, “Because they insisted they weren’t going to the station without you.”
“Me?” Scoffing, Winry waved her hands. “I’m not going to the police station with the Elrics.” The ‘or you’ should have been clearly understood from her reaction.
The detective straightened. “I don’t think you understand, Mrs. Rockbell.”
Winry very carefully set down her socket wrench. It wasn’t all that long ago that she would’ve considered throwing it at the man. “No, I’m afraid you don’t, Detective. I’m not going anywhere with the Elric brothers, particularly not to a police station. I’m a very busy automail mechanic and have orders to fill and clients to see. I do not have time to go anywhere. If you have questions, you can ask me, now, before my next client comes in.” She fished her fingerless gloves out of her pockets, sliding them on. The detective glanced at the gloves, taking a longer, appraising look at her. Winry bristled at his audacity. “What?”
“Mrs. Rockbell, the Elric brothers are concerned about your safety.” His expression changed, though Winry wasn’t sure how to read it. “Frankly, I think they might have good reason to be. I would like you to come to the station with us.”
“Look, Detective, I don’t have time for riddles.” Winry only managed to keep from shoving a finger in his face by slamming her fists on her hips.
He sighed. “Your life could be in danger, Mrs. Rockbell. I don’t know any plainer way to say it than that.”
The air seemed to leave Winry’s lungs with a whoosh. A part of her laughed uproariously at the idea but another part remembered Scar and that alley; her parents’ death; a stellate scar on Ed’s stomach that was replicated on his back. Grant. For a few seconds, the room was tinged in red and Winry could hear nothing beyond the pounding of her own heart.
When she raised her head, she found the detective watching her the way she might watch a feral dog. Winry smiled and that seemed to make him even more nervous. “Then we’ll need to get my son, too.” When the man opened his mouth, she cut him off. “Right now.”
* * *
Riza had chosen the café not only for its close proximity to the military headquarters but also because there was always at least one delicious soup on the menu. And, after today, she felt like she needed warming up. The fact that the café had a tiny fireplace, lit with a crackling fire, felt like a bonus. Of course, there was always the problem of it being popular with both military personnel and hangers on. Riza knew she could trust personal staff not to tell tales. That didn’t necessarily carry over to the general populace.
That didn’t stop her from relaxing a tiny bit as she took the chair across from her friend, accepting the waiter’s suggestion of hot tea to drink though she did request a glass of iced water to go with it. Across from her, Rebecca Catalina pretended to study her menu, but her dark eyes kept flicking over the top of the pages to Riza. At least she had the decency to wait until the waiter walked away from the table before pouncing.
“So, what’s the situation?” Rebecca was nothing if not to the point.
“Besides the Fullmetal Alchemist picking a fight with the owner of a sulfur mine?” Riza couldn’t hide her irritation behind a lunch menu. Maybe a few stiff drinks. No, that was Roy talking in her head, If she let him in there, Riza knew she’d be ringing him up when she returned to the office. Which would mean neither of them would be doing their jobs and, despite being separated by kilometers and alone in their offices, they might wind up committing scandalous deeds. And I don’t think Sciezca could handle that.
Rebecca clicked her tongue. “Is that all?”
No, it wasn’t, but Riza was not going to dish that information, even in a crowded café. Reporters seemed to lurk around, waiting for rumors to expand on for their papers. Edward and Alphonse getting taken to the police station for questioning - and dragging Winry in on it - was not something she was going to share in public. Maybe not even behind closed doors at the military HQ. “Mm.” That was certainly a noncommittal answer. “I’m attempting to patch up a relationship.”
That made Rebecca’s mouth purse. “Oh, ho, ho.” She leaned back in her chair, eyes alight with the promise of gossip. “What has your darling husband done now?”
With a cool blink, Riza allowed her friend to consider that statement. “Nothing.”
The waiter brought them warm bread with herbed butter, offering to refresh their drinks. Busying themselves with the food until he had left their table, neither woman spoke until Rebecca asked, “Nothing?” She sounded so disbelieving.
Riza fixed her with a gimlet eye. “Nothing.” And it was a severe distraction, too. Locking the office door and indulging in a little telephone sex was starting to sound better and better. Roy had made the offer to come to East City for Longest Night but Riza overruled him, saying it was best he remain in Central. Even if Maizy missed her father and Riza missed her lover - that little tingle between her legs could easily become a throb, if she let it. Riza ignored the sensation, forcing herself to concentrate on the matter at hand - it was best they stay in their current locations, at least for the time being.
“Well, that’s your problem then,” Rebecca said, inadvertently adding fuel to the fire. She took a bite of her bread, all but purring. “Deelish.”
Riza just managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. “I’m talking about Winry Rockbell.”
“That automail mechanic?” Rebecca licked her fingertips clean of melted butter. Riza could see the mischievous bent in her friend’s smile and wondered if the waiter was watching from behind her. Rebecca was far too flirtatious and man hungry, even after all these years. Regardless, it made for a good cover. “Who are you setting her up with, someone working for your husband?” Her smile broadened. “That cute little Kain? He’s got the tightest butt.”
“Please.” Riza glared back. “Fuery prefers men.”
“He does? No wonder I couldn’t get a rise out of him.” Pouting playfully, Rebecca wriggled in her chair. “Your adjutant?”
“Breda’s seeing someone already. Before you ask, no, not Kain.”
The pout got bigger. “Havoc?”
“I’m starting to wonder why I think I can have any type of serious conversation with you.” Riza wiped her fingers clean on her napkin.
“Aww, I’m listening.” Batting her eyes, Rebecca leaned an elbow on the table, pillowing her chin in her cupped hand. “So, you’re trying to set up the automail mechanic.”
Put that way, it just sounded sordid. “Not set her up, repair a relationship.”
Rebecca wagged her head. “Eh, same thing. So, dish. Tell me more about the mechanic. I hear she’s smart and beautiful.” She twined a curly lock around her forefinger. “Smart, beautiful women can have just about anything they want.”
The comment brought a bittersweet curl to Riza’s mouth. “I think all she ever wanted was a family.” She met Rebecca’s gaze. “And the military seems to have had a hand in taking her family away from her almost every time. I feel it’s time to make a change to that and give her family back to her.”
Releasing the lock of hair so it bounced, Rebecca let out a long sigh. “Riza, honey, I really think you need to stop reading so many romance books.”
* * *
Chapter 6