Fic: "Job to Do" 1/1
Title: Job to Do
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Author: evil_little_dog
Characters: Zolf J. Kimbley
Rating: K+
Word Count: 497
Summary: Kimbley thinks about where he should strike next.
Disclaimer: Arakawa owns these people, Bones pays her, and I write fanfic for fun. Tell me the difference here? Yes, that’s right, I don’t get paid.
Warnings: A continuation of my ficlet, Shake Down.
X X X
The office looked as if it was stuck in the past few decades, with dark paneled walls and uncomfortable wooden furniture. The files on the desk were carefully arranged. A bookshelf showed titles ranging from scientific texts to dissertations on ancient history. A telephone sat in the upper left corner of the desk, along with a simple vase holding a white rose bud with a sprig of baby’s breath. A steaming mug of coffee sat in the middle of the desk, and behind it, in the wooden chair, sat a man dressed in white, his dark hair carefully coifed into a ponytail, though two thin strands of hair framed his face.
Kimbley opened the file, studying the information within. A photograph of a lovely blond girl, staring past his shoulder, was on the top of the paperwork. “Ah, Miss Rockbell.” He took other photographs out as well, studying two of the people Winry Rockbell held closest to her heart - the Elric brothers. Alphonse Elric, the youngest, was pictured in his wheelchair, a cat resting in his lap, while the elder, Edward Elric, walked down the stairs outside the brownstone he and his brother resided in with the Hughes family.
Pinako Rockbell lived far enough away, in the countryside, and while Kimbley believed making a point was an important thing to do, the time spent traveling so far out of the city was wasteful. No, he’d need to strike at something, someone, Miss Rockbell cared about within the city.
He reviewed the photographs within the file again, the Elrics, Miss Rockbell, the pictures of the Hughes family, of Miss Rockbell’s patron, a Mr. Garfiel, of the Curtises, who ran the butcher shop near Miss Rockbell’s tiny workshop, Winry’s other clients, old men, young boys, a few women, including the one-time thief, Paninya Dhiri. Knowing he had to make the perfect point to explain Miss Rockbell’s predicament to her, he finally made his decision, taking one single photograph from the file. Folding the cover over the rest of the pictures and paperwork, Kimbley replaced the file in his drawer, setting the picture of Edward Elric at the top of his desk, next to his coffee cup.
Kimbley decided he’d take Envy with him on his visit to the eldest Elric brother. Envy never minded getting his hands dirty, and the notes indicated Edward was a scrapper. It would be best to have someone who could take him on, just to make sure the point was made.
Rising from his desk, Kimbley placed the remaining files in the center desk drawer, locking it closed. Whistling softly, he slipped his white jacket over his shoulders, and set his fedora on his head. Adjusting his cuffs, he opened the door, making sure to close and lock it behind him. A jaunty step carried him down the hall and out the door of the old building. He had people to see and work to do.
It was time to get on with both.
X X X
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Author: evil_little_dog
Characters: Zolf J. Kimbley
Rating: K+
Word Count: 497
Summary: Kimbley thinks about where he should strike next.
Disclaimer: Arakawa owns these people, Bones pays her, and I write fanfic for fun. Tell me the difference here? Yes, that’s right, I don’t get paid.
Warnings: A continuation of my ficlet, Shake Down.
X X X
The office looked as if it was stuck in the past few decades, with dark paneled walls and uncomfortable wooden furniture. The files on the desk were carefully arranged. A bookshelf showed titles ranging from scientific texts to dissertations on ancient history. A telephone sat in the upper left corner of the desk, along with a simple vase holding a white rose bud with a sprig of baby’s breath. A steaming mug of coffee sat in the middle of the desk, and behind it, in the wooden chair, sat a man dressed in white, his dark hair carefully coifed into a ponytail, though two thin strands of hair framed his face.
Kimbley opened the file, studying the information within. A photograph of a lovely blond girl, staring past his shoulder, was on the top of the paperwork. “Ah, Miss Rockbell.” He took other photographs out as well, studying two of the people Winry Rockbell held closest to her heart - the Elric brothers. Alphonse Elric, the youngest, was pictured in his wheelchair, a cat resting in his lap, while the elder, Edward Elric, walked down the stairs outside the brownstone he and his brother resided in with the Hughes family.
Pinako Rockbell lived far enough away, in the countryside, and while Kimbley believed making a point was an important thing to do, the time spent traveling so far out of the city was wasteful. No, he’d need to strike at something, someone, Miss Rockbell cared about within the city.
He reviewed the photographs within the file again, the Elrics, Miss Rockbell, the pictures of the Hughes family, of Miss Rockbell’s patron, a Mr. Garfiel, of the Curtises, who ran the butcher shop near Miss Rockbell’s tiny workshop, Winry’s other clients, old men, young boys, a few women, including the one-time thief, Paninya Dhiri. Knowing he had to make the perfect point to explain Miss Rockbell’s predicament to her, he finally made his decision, taking one single photograph from the file. Folding the cover over the rest of the pictures and paperwork, Kimbley replaced the file in his drawer, setting the picture of Edward Elric at the top of his desk, next to his coffee cup.
Kimbley decided he’d take Envy with him on his visit to the eldest Elric brother. Envy never minded getting his hands dirty, and the notes indicated Edward was a scrapper. It would be best to have someone who could take him on, just to make sure the point was made.
Rising from his desk, Kimbley placed the remaining files in the center desk drawer, locking it closed. Whistling softly, he slipped his white jacket over his shoulders, and set his fedora on his head. Adjusting his cuffs, he opened the door, making sure to close and lock it behind him. A jaunty step carried him down the hall and out the door of the old building. He had people to see and work to do.
It was time to get on with both.
X X X