Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Crimson Romance ❯ Chapter Six ( Chapter 6 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter Six


“We've really gotta do something about Maria,” Brielle said scornfully over coffee.

“Like what?” Felix asked calmly, sipping at his drink.

“She was supposed to go for a cigarette break. She was gone the whole night! Not only was it irresponsible but it sure pissed me off.”

“You have to remember, Miss Brielle, she signed a contract with Mr. Kimblee, not you.”

“But Dammit! She owes me.”

“Does she, really?”

The blue one grumbled after that comment. Discontented, she kept her hands in her lap and crossed one leg over the other. She wasn't sitting directly at the table, rather her body faced away from it, her arm resting on it.

Walking down the street toward the inn, Maria sighed. There was a deep concern on her face. She knew this was the morning that her blue haired friend would go in for the kill.

I'm in deep shit, she thought to herself, her shoulders slumping forward as the space between her and the door lessened. That was when a horn honked behind them.

“Hey!” a voice said after rolling down the window, “Kimblee! Get in the car, I gotta talk to you.”

“Who's that?” Maria asked, looking behind them. They were wearing the standard issue military uniform.

“This is about work. You go on in without me. I'll catch up in a few,” Solf said quickly, heading for the car.

Great, he's going to make me go in to face Brielle alone.. I am doomed.. Maria whined before entering the inn.



He shut the door after sitting down within the car. Solf sat there quietly, waiting for the young man to introduce himself. He could tell that it had to be a message from the military at seeing his attire.

The man turned in his seat to face Kimblee. His blonde hair swept over his forehead, as he gave him a serious look. He'd had his arm over the seat. An electrical current ran through his form, and he revealed his true form, only neck up. Again, his hair was long, stringy and green, much like a palm tree.

Quickly, so nobody would notice, he changed back into the blonde.

“Do you still have the Philosopher's Stone?” He asked coldly.

“Right here,” Solf said, forcing himself to gag up the item. He opened his mouth, revealing it on  his tongue, taking hold of it in his hand.

“Look, I'm going to make this quick. You'd better listen because I'm not going to repeat myself.”

“Okay.”

“We're looking for the man who created the Philosopher's Stone, Doctor Marcoh. We almost had him a while back but he managed to escape again with an Ishvalan named Scar. We don't know where they are at this time. You'll be given further instructions when you get back to Central.” The young man sounded very irritated, speaking rather quickly.

“Looks like I'll be able to use this baby once again.” Kimblee admired the crimson stone betwixt his fingers.

“I'm afraid that that alone will not be enough.” Envy, in his blonde form, took out a tiny orb about the size of the pad of his thumb, and handed it to him.

“Ah, made from another group of Ishvalans, I see?”

“Who gives a fuck what it's made out of? Now get the fuck out of my car!” Envy cursed, “You've been nothing but bad luck since you got out of prison! Now don't mess this up or you're dead, got it?!”

“Right, right.” After taking the extra Philosopher's Stone, Kimblee got out of the car. Quickly, the young man drove off, his tires squealing on the street.



Upon entering the inn, Solf could already hear the drama that was ensuing. He heard voices in the background, arguing.

“You've only known him for three days and already you've slept with him?!”

“I've not slept with anyone! You're crazy!”

“Where the hell did you disappear to all night, then?!”

“I – I, uh..”

“Yeah, that's what I thought. You were with Kimblee all night! What did I tell you about him? That's a bad man. You shouldn't hang around him!”

“He's not as bad as you think –“

“Yeah, tell that to the Ishvalans he massacred back in –“

That was when Solf stepped into the conversation. “That was what I was ordered to do. To step into uniform – you should know that those kinds of things are done, Miss Brielle.”

“And explain your involvement in keeping Maria from her job?”

With a smile, Kimblee explained himself. “Her absence from the job that you had assigned to her was really just her, as my Personal Assistant, spending quality time with me.”

“Quality time?!”

“In order to know how to take care of my business, she'd have to know me better, wouldn't she?”

“But you have to understand, Mr. Kimblee, that she has unpaid bills. Like how much she owes me for paying for a room for her to sleep in; the clothes on her back and the food!” Brielle retorted.

“Then her debt to you is paid in full at this very moment.” He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a wallet and a check book.

“What the – You can't do that! She would then owe you in –“

“Of course not. I'm the one signing her checks.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She's my Personal Assistant. She has to have her basic needs met and I'll be paying her for that.” Solf smiled, writing out the check.

Brielle snatched it out of his hand and scoffed at Maria. “Looks like you're living off of his charity after all!”

Backing up somewhat, Maria blinked, completely stunned by the conversation that had taken place. He was willing to take care of her? Not only was she bound to him by contract but he was also her employer? Well, not too bad, she thought, seeing as she'd have food, clothing and a warm place to sleep until they figured out how to get her home.

“There's also been a change of plan,” Kimblee noted, “I've been given a new assignment and have to return to Central for further instruction. We have to take the soonest train.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait!” Brielle protested, “Um, excuse you? Are you telling me where I'm going to be and when? I don't think so. There is no way in hell I'm going to Central to join you on your little military escapade.”

The blue one grabbed Maria's sleeve, “C'mon, you're coming with me.”

“You're welcome to come with me, Maria,” Solf replied.

“Well, pack your things,” Brielle continued, “You have until then to choose who you want to go with.”

Which it didn't make much sense, seeing as the only thing the Chicana had come with was her purse. The new clothes she wore everyday were actually Brielle's. She would have to give the blue one her clothes back and put on the ones she'd come with.

Hearing this, Maria and Brielle went into her quarters. Digging through the suitcase, Maria retrieved her outfit and changed. There was an odd silence between the two as things were packed.

The Mexicana looked herself over in the mirror. What she had come in was a short, blue dress. Beneath she wore navy blue capris slacks. She'd had her bangle bracelets on and her necklaces that went stylishly over her chest. She wore black ballerina flats and had pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

She was thankful that they'd managed to do their laundry before this whole ordeal went down. Who would she follow? Her heart wanted to follow Solf, seeing how they'd gotten a whole lot closer over the span of one night. However, her head told her the wisest thing she could do was leave with the blue one. In doing this, she would avoid being caught up in whatever the government was conspiring to do.

Yeah, that would be the best, wouldn't it? However good a choice this might have been, she had an aching in the back of her neck that told her that in sticking with Brielle there would be a slim chance to none that she would be able to find a way back home. She knew alchemy, too, though, right?

Maria sighed and slung her purse over her shoulder. With Brielle it is, then.

Exiting the inn, she saw the two standing near each other. They were ready to leave, if only on her cue. Taking in a deep breath, she gulped. They had very serious looks on their faces.

After approaching them, Brielle handed Maria her guitar case. Holding it at her side, she looked them both over. Solf turned his head and gave her an icy stare. It wasn't like the way he looked at her that morning. Was it all an act? Did he really not care about her? There was somewhat of a sinking her chest as she thought about it. How disappointing.

She lifted her head to look up at him.

“I've decided..” She started quietly, “That I am going with Brielle.”

“Absurd.” He replied, “You're going with me.”

“What?” Maria didn't look any more surprised than she did the moment he yanked her by the arm, pulling her into him.

“We have a contract,” He swiftly reminded her, “You have an obligation to me first and foremost.”

“B-But Brielle!” She pointed in the blue one's direction with the guitar case.

“There you have it, wench!” Brielle replied with a smirk, “I've come to accept it. You're bound to him in a contract, not me!”

“But your guitar!”

“Keep it. The less I carry the better.” She said then continued in a sweetly sarcastic tone, “Enjoy your trip to Central~!”

She turned and started walking away from them, holding her suitcase in hand, with Felix following behind. Taking the Chicana's hand into his, Solf led her in the opposing direction toward the train station. He hated being so mean to her but it was the only way she would have taken him seriously.

Once they were on the train, he'd apologize. Not only for just now but for last night's attempt at taking advantage of her. Gaining her trust like that only to break it later on. Maybe next time he should just ask for a kiss instead of manipulating his way around it? Yeah, that would probably be good. But not right now. He doubted she'd want to kiss him, after forcing her to leave with him
instead of with whom she wanted.

.o.o.o.


Four days.. Maria thought to herself, holding the hem of her dress in her lap, twisting around the cloth between her fingers. She often did this when she felt uneasy. Brielle, you were wrong. It wasn't three days. It's been four.

They'd been sitting on the train only for a little while. It was far enough in that all the passengers were seated but they'd not taken off yet. Lightly, Solf bit the bottom of his lip, watching the Mexicana sit across from him. There had to be something he could do to make her feel better. She was much more than just angry. She was silent. And not only that, she wouldn't bring herself to look at him.

He wanted to recapture the time they'd had at the carnival the night before. Solf got out of his seat and slid into the one next to her. He'd gotten extremely close, their thighs and sides crammed together. His arm went around the back of the seat and lazily dangled down over her shoulder and his leg crossed in her direction.

“What on earth are you doing?” Maria managed to say.

“Well,” Solf replied, “We were comfortable with this last night. I thought that maybe –“
With as much as I'd love to get cozy with you, Solf, I'm afraid it's inappropriate at a time like this. “Well, you thought wrong.”

The Chicana got out of her seat and sat across from him, in his old seat. “You were awfully mean to me back there. Grabbing me like that, dragging me here to the train station.”

“If I didn't press in like that, you would have left with Brielle.”

“Yes, I would have. That would have been –“

“The wisest decision on your part?” He uncrossed his leg, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and his eyes on her. “So you would avoid the military and not get caught up into things? You can't run your entire life like Miss Bellavarde.”

Maria frowned, “How do you know all of that?”

“It's basic psychology, Maria. Besides, we're tied together through a –“

“..A contract.”

“Besides, you're quite enjoyable to be around, Miss Sanchez. I don't know what I would do without you.”

The last sentence reminded Maria of any old love song on the radio. A desperate attempt to keep things together. To keep a certain someone by their side, no matter what.

“Why the formalities, now?”

“When we're in front of my superiors and other military staff, we must refer to each other by our formal names. I don't want anyone to know the nature of our relationship.”

Nature of our relationship? She blinked. “You never mentioned that we were –“

“It's just a precaution, Maria. I don't want you ending up as collateral against me. That would be indeed very devastating.”

He got up from his spot and sat next to her again.

“But I didn't think you cared that much, Mr. Kimblee.” She stated, trying out this new formality.

“I do, I do, but..”

“But we have to pretend in front of others. That's understandable.”

“We can still enjoy our time in private.”

“Okay, then.” She smiled, his arm going around her shoulder, holding her against him. Leaning into him, she watched what was going on outside. The train had started again, causing their car to jerk somewhat. Finally, they were moving.

“It's for your safety, I promise.”


“I hope you enjoy your lunch, Mr. Kimblee.” Maria said in a flat voice, “I just finished your laundry and cleaned your quarters. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

She had pushed a small cart into the room and stopped it next to him. He'd had one leg crossed over the other, listening to various information about Scar from each and every direction.

Lifting a single finger, the crowd around him silenced. He leaned back and answered the
Mexicana.

“There isn't much else for you to do here, unless you want to get run over by soldiers. Why don't you go outside for a while and enjoy yourself?” Kimblee took out his wallet and handed her a few bills. “If you're hungry, go ahead and eat. Buy yourself something fluffy. A new dress or something. Be back for dinner, though.”

“Right.” She nodded and headed out of the room. When he'd waved his hand again, the information flowed in again.


A few hours later, the phone rang in the office as Kimblee looked over the map hanging on the wall. He placed a hand to his chin and thought out loud his thoughts on where Scar may have went off to. He'd learned that the accident on the tracks in Pottstown was actually the doing of his Ishvalan target.

“Yes, just a moment.” One of his subordinates said before approaching him. “You have a phone call, Mr. Kimblee.”

“A phone call?” He rose a brow, bringing his arm back down. He turned from his spot and headed for the phone, picking up the receiver.

 “Hello?” He asked, listening to the voice on the other end. “Oh, hello Maria. You're what? You're going to be babysitting the Führer's son tonight? How did this come about?”

And so began the awkward explanation...


Looking through the window of the open shoppe, Maria sighed. There were so many choices. Seeing as it was the last place on the street that sold clothing, she decided to go in. Solf must have been in prison for a while, seeing as he didn't take into account that prices may have risen after the Ishvalan Civil War. She had a feeling what the people of Amestris were going through, seeing as the same had happened after the War on Terror had started in America after the tragic events of September nearly a decade behind.

With the way the store was set up it seemed she glided right on through. An idea had hit her. Perhaps she should get a new pair of shoes, seeing she was going to be on her feet a lot, working for Mr. Kimblee.  It may have not have been what she had in mind, but that was when the most beautiful pair of shoes seemed to glisten in her sights. Quickly, Maria made her way over to them. She placed a single hand on one of them. They were the most beautiful mint she'd ever seen, if she'd ever seen mint shoes. They didn't have shoes like this since her sister was alive. She had to have a pair.

I'm sure Solf wouldn't mind if I bought one thing out of ordinary..

“Those are our last pair,” An attendant told her as he was hanging up clothes on a rack.

Another hand went onto the shoe she was holding. Looking up, she saw another woman. She appeared to have worn the same kind of clothing any civilian would have. No connections to the military, as far as one can tell.

“I'm sorry, these aren't in your size.” The woman with the dark eyes commented. She had fair skin and her hair was up in a bun. She appeared to be the same age as Maria. There wouldn't have been bad blood, honestly. Maria was ready to give them up to the woman, seeing as she didn't really need them. She just thought they were cute. The Mexicana wasn't sure why the woman needed to use a sarcastic tone with her, though.

As soon as the Chicana was ready to let it go, the woman snatched the heeled shoe out from beneath her grasp, then swung it as hard as she could, nailing Maria right in the forehead. And damn, did it hurt. Her head flung back then came back up. There was a mark where the heel had struck her. There was a little blood as well, barely dripping down.

Maria puffed up her cheeks, glaring at the woman in a disoriented fashion.

“Aw, now it's on, bitch!”

Without a second thought, or even a second for the other to react, Maria had picked up the stand in which the shoes were on, and swung it at the woman. She ducked, then saw that it was lifted back up, and thrown back down on top of her. It wasn't that heavy, so she blocked it with her forearms. As hard as Maria had brought it down upon her, the white boarding split in half.

Flinging the stand to the side, she grabbed onto Maria's shoulders near the neck, and started pushing her to the side, keeping a hold on her. Maria grabbed the back of the woman's hair and shoved her down into her inclining knee. There was a cracking sound as this happened, indicating that she'd broken her nose. She shoved her away if only for a moment.

Taking what she could of the moment, Maria swiftly took the other mint shoe from the ground, holding it against her protectively. This wasn't about being nice anymore. In fact, she didn't really care about the shoes. She wanted to prove a point to this woman. She was going to get those shoes for herself. Just to say Hey, you mess with me and I kick your ass.

“Augh!” The woman rose, holding her bloody nose, “Ya fuckin' Sue! You're gonna pay for that!”

She brought up the shoe she'd had in her hand and threw it in the Mexicana's direction. With her back against the wall, she could hear the thwok of the heel as it landed next to her face in the wall. Maria pulled the shoe out, then flipped over the small couch in front of her. She did a cartwheel on the floor before bringing heeled weapon out and swinging it toward the lady.

“I'M NOT JUST ANOTHER ANNOYING MARY-SUUUUE!”

Before the heel could hit the woman's temple, and possibly injure her beyond any reconciliation, little black arms tied around her ankles and pulled back, causing her to fall forward and Maria to miss her entirely.

There was a deep confusion on the Chicana's face. How did this come about? Her eyes went to the entrance. There she saw an older woman with a young boy standing there.

“What a silly servant she is, causing this big of a fight in a clothing store.” The young boy had said, unnoticed black arms slivering back behind him.

“Was.” The older woman mentioned, then spoke to the Mexicana, “I am so sorry, Miss, for such an inconvenience.”

The blood on her forehead was dried by now. Maria held the pair of shoes, one in each hand. She looked like she was battle worn, with the way she was breathing and how she stood. The adrenaline rush would soon be over.

“Mr. Store Manager, I'd like security to escort this woman out of here immediately.”

“Yes, Mrs. Bradley.” And upon doing as told, the servant was taken out of the store.

“Bradley?” Maria blinked. The name was quite familiar.

“As an apology, please allow me to buy you those shoes, Miss.”

“Who exactly are you?”

 “You can just call me Mrs. Bradley. I'm the Führer's wife. And this here is our son, Selim Bradley.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss.” He said, pretending to be excited about the encounter. “You sure showed her.”

“Selim!” Mrs. Bradley scolded.

Maria chuckled a bit. “Eh, it's not a problem. She started the fight; I merely finished it.”

“Now we need to find you a new babysitter. Mmm~” The older woman looked Maria over. “Miss, if you're not busy this evening and tomorrow.. Would you like to take the place of that servant and babysit Selim?”

“Babysit? I would have to check with Mr. Kimblee.”

“Oh, you know Mr. Kimblee?”

“Um, yes. He's my boss.”

“Your boss? What is it he has you do?”

“I'm his Personal Assistant. I do things for him like cooking, laundry, paperwork..”

“Then you'd be perfect for the job!”

“You really think so?”

“Come with us. I'll get you to a phone so you can call him.”

“Okay.”


“...And that's what happened.” Maria explained to Mr. Kimblee, holding the receiver to her ear.

“You probably need to gather some things from here first.”

“No, it's fine. All I have with me is my purse and these new shoes.”

“Aw,” He pouted. He wanted to see her one last time for the evening. Can't have everything, though, right? “It's only for an evening and a day, correct? We're getting close on Scar's trail. I don't want to take off without you.”

“You still have to help me find a way to get back to California. Or did you forget?”

“No, of course not. Let's work on your memory, first.”

“You still don't believe me?” Maria whined.

“Just call me in the morning and I can set up a time to pick you up that evening.”

“When did you get a car?”

“They're all rentals from the military. I wouldn't worry too much about it.”

“Okay. Talk to you in the morning, then.” Mr. Kimblee could hear her sigh before she hung up.


“..That should be everything. If you need me or there's an emergency, I wrote the number down in that little packet I gave you.” Mrs. Bradley said, about ready to take off.

“Okay, then.” Maria nodded, holding the manilla envelope to her chest.

“You be good, okay, Selim?” His mother smiled at him with her eyes before patting his head. “You two have a good time, okay?”

After she left, the young boys eyes grew old an annoyed. However, he did his best to keep his tone of voice the same as a child. “That servant you fought at the store was my nanny.”

“That was your nanny?” Maria sounded surprised, placing a single hand on her hip. After the car door closed behind his mother, the Chicana looked down at her short friend.

“Are you Ish–“ He started to ask.

“No, I'm not Ishvalan.” There was an annoyed sigh with that, “Why does every one think that? Hellooo? I don't have red eyes!”

“I'm sorry to have offended you.” He faked an apologetic voice.

“Whatever, dude.” She took his hand into hers and led him back inside the mansion. “You got a radio I can hook up my mp3 player to?”

“Em Pee what?”

“I just need an auxiliary cable and plug in the back of one of these radios and we're good.”

“Why do you need all that?”

“Because listening to opera and big band music all the time is giving me a headache. I wanna hear different music.”

“Okay, I suppose.”


After digging through not one, but two utility closets, Maria managed to find something similar to an auxiliary cord. Kneeling there in front of the closet, she took out her mp3 player from her pocket and plugged it into the cord. It was a perfect fit. With a curl in her smile, she got up and put everything she'd drug out away.

“You find it?” The Bradley boy stood beside her, staring down at what she was doing. He was curious about the little green contraption she'd held in her hands, having plugged the cord into.

“Yeah, I did. You got a radio in your room, right?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Man, for the time period we're in, you sure are spoiled, you know that?”

The boy's eyes flattened a bit. Is she really trying to insult me?

“You see,” Maria continued, trying to pile the remaining items back into the closet, “In your time – I mean. Let me rephrase that. Nowadays, most people only have a radio in the living room. You guys probably have a radio for each room.”

Already, the woman was being suspicious. If she had something to hide, she sure wasn't doing it well. She's probably too honest or stupid to lie to me, Selim thought to himself.

He followed quickly behind her as she returned to his room. It was strange that Kimblee would hire someone like her. Was he really so disorganized after being released from prison? She wouldn't know that he knew her boss. At least not until the time had come for her to have no choice but to have this knowledge.


It happened right after her graduation. Somewhere between May and June, she wasn't really sure. That time in her life was pretty blurry, what with all the chaos going on in her life. They were working her to the bone at the restaurant she was at. She hadn't slept very well – and sometimes not even at all – in weeks. She was so busy with school and work that she hadn't even an inkling of time to be able to recover after her own mother's death and that was three years ago.

The 90's had zipped past her so quickly. The entire Y2K scare turned out to be a giant hoax. Either that or the scientists or whoever ran the world computers, had saved our asses just in time.

First her abuelito – her grandfather – had died in the late 80's. Then her sister in '93 and then her own mother in 1998. Leaving her father's house was the hardest thing that she had ever done. She knew now that she was growing up – or how she herself felt with all the stress, already grown up – and had to learn how to fend for herself. Anybody that ever mattered to her was gone. She was all alone. That was, until she met Patrick in the second year of high school. His family had welcomed her in as one of their own. Which really surprised her because not a lot of white folks in school were nice to her.

Somehow, by some small string of luck or blessing, they were different. She thought that logically they were nicer to her because of their same position in poverty but somewhere within her emotional self she said it was something different.

Regardless of how many times she went over the events in high school she could never think of a way to express how grateful she was to his family. Especially after a giant intervention had gotten her out of the house of her abusive father. She knew things were hard enough for him, being left with the responsibility of having to raise his last living daughter by himself, but instead of turning to the community for help – or even God for that matter – he turned to alcohol. He had turned violent toward her.

One night, she'd left to go to Patrick's house, leaving him to find bruises and welts on her body. He told his mother and they took her to the hospital. A social worker there suggested that the best option would be to take her out of the home and put her into foster care. Ms. MacMillain, Patrick's mother, would not see this through. Instead, she took Maria in as her own.

That was how Maria ended up living with them.

This wasn't the reason that she ended up at the hospital this time.

“But Patrick!” Julia cried, practically convulsing in her seat. She hugged herself tightly and rocked a bit, the sobs getting louder. “Why would she want to kill herself?! Doesn't she love us anymore?!”

There wasn't a word on his lips. He pressed them, and his brows together in anger. He was beyond angry. Why would she want to commit the ultimate selfish act?

They couldn't be in the room with her, what with nurses and staff all around her. Julia sat in the chair just outside the room that was labeled ER 13. He paced a bit.

Earlier it was explained to them that she'd downed a bottle of aspirin and a bottle or so of absinthe. Maria reported that when she started to feel her stomach hurt, she'd drank a glass of milk.
What they needed to do was pump her stomach and then feed her enough charcoal to absorb the toxic drink.


After all was said and done and the doctors had managed to spare her life, she lied there in her own private room. It wasn't like a regular room but one of those they'd set up especially for the mental health patients that were waiting for registration to go through so they could find her a bed in the psychiatric ward. Lying in her bed, Maria went in and out of consciousness. It was strange for Julia to see her in a hospital gown, covered in white blankets.

The young girl sat next to the Mexicana's bed. Patrick was outside the room, pacing the hallways. He stopped to talk to a woman who had come by. She knocked on the frame of the door before entering. It was Pat's mom. She gestured for him to follow her in. He did so, reluctantly.

Pulling up a chair to sit next to Julia, Ms. MacMillain asked her quietly, “How are you feeling?”

“I feel like shit.” Maria muttered. Seeing as the silence was broken, Patrick managed to vent his anger.

“Why the fuck would you do something like this!? Everything was perfectly fine and then suddenly you do this! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Um..” It was hard for Maria to respond.

“You could have died, Maria, died! You can't come back from that, you know!”

Ms. MacMillain brought up a hand and hushed him.

“Now, Maria,” the older woman said softly, “Why did you do this?”

Taking in a shallow breath, the Mexicana sighed. What with these reactions, she felt a wave of shame come over her.

“Oh, don't get bashful now. We're all family in here,” Their mother soothed her.

“It was Steve.” Maria drawled.

“That guy you were seeing?” Julia asked.

“You were seeing someone?” Patrick blinked.

“You didn't know?” Their mom asked. “You sure are slow, Pat. I didn't find out until just a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah, she's been seeing some guy since the beginning of Senior year,” Julia informed.

“I didn't tell you,” The Mexicana explained groggily, “Because he's kind of older than I am.”

“By how many years?”

“He's in college. He's about three years older than me.”

“What the –“ He started.

“Now, now, Pat. She's of age now and can make her own decisions.”

“But she was seventeen when they first started dating?! What kind of pedophile mother fu–“

“Calm down, Pat.”

“We were going to get married,” Maria started.

“What does that have to do with this?” The redhead was starting to get annoyed.

“He dumped me. Said that college exams were getting hard and making him busier than usual.”

“Then–“

“Did you have sex with him?” Their mother managed to ask.

“No. I told him I wanted to wait.”

“Do you think that's why he dumped you?”

“Well, after he said he wasn't ready for a relationship like that.. A couple of days later I saw him out with a blonde, white girl. He had his arms all over her. It made me sick.”

“Oh, Maria,” Julia whined.

“Well, he's a jack-ass for dumping you for that reason. And a guy that age dating someone as young as you is probably up to no good as it is. Probably doesn't have what it takes to date someone his own age. You know how those are like.”

There was a sniffle and a frown on the Mexicana.

“I thought we were going to get married. He went to prom with me. Went to our graduation, Patrick..” Her voice started cracking, a good indicator that tears were to follow.

“And that's the reason you did all this? Why would you try to kill yourself?”

“I wasn't trying to kill myself! I simply wanted to numb the pain, if only for a little while.”

“With absinthe? Are you serious? That's some pretty powerful stuff! You could have –“

“Well, what is done is done. It is over with. Thankfully, Maria is still alive. Maria, I talked with the doctor and he said that the best thing right now is to keep you safe. And in doing that, you're going to stay here. Think of it as some kind of a rest. A little vacation of sorts.”

“A vacation?”

“They're gonna lock you up here until they think it's safe enough for you to leave.” Patrick chirped.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no. No they're not!” Maria sat up quickly in her seat. She got light headed and fell back down. “..Shit.”

“It's not permanent, Maria. It'll only be for a week or so.”

“I have a feeling I'm not going to like this.”

“It's for your own good.”



Indeed, Maria did stay in the hospital for a week and she hated every moment of it. Well, until the very end, when she did decide to be compliant with medicine and classes. There were a lot of things she'd learned about life-coping skills, tools to use to manage stress, and where to get help on dealing with suicide and other mental health problems.

All of this made her feel a bit more comfortable with herself. She thought she was going crazy when these kind of issues were more commonplace than she'd originally thought.


It was the ultimate look of concentration on her face as she tried looking for an opening in the back of the radio. There just had to be a place to plug it in. Once again, she looked it over, standing on her knees. When it came to the point where she had to accept that there was nothing, she plopped down to sit. She sighed.

Having been standing next to her, watching, Selim giggled.

“What's so funny?”

“There isn't a plug in, is there?” His smirk widened.

“You knew this?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn't you tell me??”

“Because the look on your face is so entertaining.”

“The look?”

“You look like a monkey doing a math problem, that's why it's so funny.”

“Oh good God.” Maria pushed herself up to stand and stretched with a groan.

“I think all the radios here at home are like that. Maybe you could get someone to make you a radio that works like that.”

“Bah, I ain't got that kind of money to get a brand new one. Maybe if we get our monkey-brain-cells together, Bradley-cito, we can figure out how to make a plug in on your radio.”

“Bradley-see-toh?” Selim looked confused.

“Bradley-cito – It's a nick-name we use where I come from. It's in Spanish. Bradley-cito basically means Little Bradley. For example, there was my grandfather Juan. He named his son – my father – Juan as well. But to differentiate between the two, they always called my father Juan-cito. Or if my mother's name was Maria, I would be Maria-cita. But, no, my mother's name was Bridgid but she went between that and Candace.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I need instructions on how to rebuild this radio to have the proper plug in for the axuillary cable. Do you guys have any repair books here?”

“All of the repairs are done by people we've hired. The only books on that you're gonna find here are on alchemy and history. I think the books you're looking for will be at the library.”

“Onto the library?”

“Sure, why not. I have homework I have to work on anyway. After I gather my books up we can use the car service we have here.”

“Oh that's right. At first I thought we were going to have to take a cab.”

“No, my father has hired our own drivers.”

“Well, of course.”


.o.o.o.


With the book opened in front of her and the books that were taller than her piled up next to her, one would think that she would have had a handle on this radio business. But she did not. If anything, the more she read the more confused she became. The information was dry and had nothing simple to offer at all.

There was a groan that emerged from the depths of her belly as she dropped her face onto the book. She faced away from their table, looking at nothing, her eyes complete swirls. Drool had fallen a bit from her lips. Before the saliva had a chance to hit the book, Selim jumped up from his seat(he'd been sitting at the table with her doing his homework) and looked over her. He seemed excited.

“Maria –“ He said to her.

“Ughnnnnn...” She managed to groan.

“Maria, get up.” He gently patted her head, “The Fullmetal Alchemist is here.”

“Edward..? Ghnnnnn...”

“Come on, get up. We must go greet them.”

That was when it hit her. “Alchemist?” She lifted her head. If Edward were an alchemist then all he'd have to do is clap his hands and voila, Selim's radio would be fixed. And of course, she'd brought it so she could examine it alongside the books.

Picking up the contraption, she walked alongside the boy to go flag the Elric brothers down.

“You're the Fullmetal Alchemist, aren't you?” Selim bounced a bit, getting Edward's attention.

“Yeah, what about it?” The blonde asked, his eyes bouncing about the library and the boy's face. He didn't ask that question to be mean. It seemed he was more in a hurry than was interested in small talk.

“Oh, I'm your biggest fan!”

“And I'm your worst nightmare.” Maria chimed in sarcastically.

“Worst nightmare, really?” Edward smirked, looking the Chicana over.

“Nah, I just thought I'd get your attention.”

“What's an Ishvalan doing here in the library?” Alphonse asked.

“Al, she's not Ishvalan.” Edward corrected him.

“How can you tell?”

“You see her eyes?” The blonde pointed out, “They're green, not red. That's how I can tell she's not.”

“Um, Mr. Elric?” Maria sounded a little nervous.

“Yeah, what?” His golden eyes traced back from Alphonse back at the Mexicana.

“Could you please use your alchemy on this radio so I can hook an auxillary cord to it?”

“I don't have time for that stuff. So, no.”

Fire burned in Maria's face as she heard the rejection, Why, you little bastard! Though, that rage was quickly diffused when she noticed the armour standing next to him. She slid over to Alphonse.

“Lord Alphonse!” Her eyes got big, “I'm begging you, please fix this radio so we can listen to different music!”

Being of big heart and easily swayed by the needs of others, Alphonse nodded and took her outside. Happily, she walked out with him. From what she remembered, Edward was one of the few people who could do alchemy without transmutation circles. So, she figured that it would be wise for them to go outside so he could use his chalk to draw on the ground, rather than the floor of the library.

And of course, Alphonse didn't ask why she wanted such a thing done, he just did it. He could have asked something along the lines of, “If you want to listen to different music, why not just change the numbers on the dial?” To Maria, he seemed more a doormat than anything. Hardly anything like his brother, Edward. But right now, this was to her advantage.

In the meantime, Selim had kept Edward's attention long enough to invite him to his father's office later on, so he could meet his mother. There would be a short time where they would be back in town. That night and the next day it was up to Maria to keep him fed and safe.

When Selim's bodyguards had jumped in and pointed their guns to each side of the alchemist's head, the young boy stopped them from any further action.

Of course, Edward, upon advise from Armstrong – a man who was his superior – earlier, wanted to take off so him and his brother could head north to catch up with the young Xingese girl and her cat to find out more about Alkahestry, Selim just wouldn't have that. When Maria and Alphonse had returned, Bradley-cito had  insisted that they leave to go see his mother.


Being polite, Maria volunteered to sit in a folding chair as the Fuhrer walked in. Instead of setting the tea cup on the small coffee table as everyone else was, she nervously sat with it cupped between her hands on her lap.

“I thought you were working,” Mrs. Bradley said, after noticing her husband walk in.

“I had some free time and I thought I'd spend it with my family.”

Maria gulped, feeling Edward's tension rise. With the way he looked at the Fuhrer, she definitely knew something was amiss. Was there something about this man that the Elric knew that she didn't?

Oh shit, that's right. She lifted her head up somewhat, watching the president sit down. He's supposed to be a homunculus, right?

“I bet you're wondering why Selim doesn't look like us.” The older man said, patting his son's head.

“Oh, no!” Edward replied, “That never even crossed my mind.”

“You see, he's not our real son.”

“We couldn't have children of our own,” Mrs. Bradley continued her husband's explanation, “So we adopted Selim and now he's our son.”

“It's not the blood that makes you family but rather the bonds.” Maria said, surprising herself. She thought for sure she wouldn't enter the conversation.

“Isn't that absolutely right, Miss Sanchez?” The Fuhrer's eyes shifted over to her.

“How do you know my name?” Emerald eyes showed concern.

“I have my ways.” He said, “Tell me, how did you meet Kimblee?”

“We bumped into each other at the train station.”

“Oh?”

“Well, literally crashed into each other.. But that's a story for another time.”

Looking over at the Mexicana, Edward raised a brow.

She's hiding something too, He thought to himself, Sanchez. That's a weird name. Never heard of anyone having a name like that. Who exactly is she and where did she come from?

“Well,” Mr. Bradley stretched then stood up, “I believe it's about time for me to head back to work. It's good to see you again, Fullmetal. And take good care of my son while my wife is away, Miss Sanchez.”

They all stood and Maria nodded. “Yes'sir.”


Selim, his mother and Maria stood under the archway and waved goodbye to the Elric boys. Maria dropped her arm when she noticed them start running. Looking over to what was left with her of the Bradley family, she smiled.

“Well, then,” Mrs. Bradley sighed in relief, “It looks like I should be on my trip now.”

Patting Selim's head, she continued, “You be good for Miss Maria, okay?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

The woman disappeared to go get her belongings for the trip.

“You got homework, Bradley-cito?” Maria asked, seeing her leave. She turned toward the sunset and watched it, awaiting his response. It was a beautiful thing to view.

“Yes, I do.”

“Good, 'cause you're not doing any tonight.”

“What?” His shoulders jerked as he turned to her.

“You're too grown up for a kid your age. You should have some fun and enjoy yourself. Tonight, we're going to have a sleep over! Pizza, soda, colouring books, dance music, staying up way past your bed time. Man, this is going to be awesome!”

“I don't have any friends that could come over.”

“What do you mean you don't have friends? You gonna let your bodyguards get at your pizza?”

“If they want, I don't care. What about my homework?”

“All you've ever done was what you were told. I'm gonna teach you how to think for yourself!”

“For myself, huh?” His gaze turned cold. Without a second thought or even time to resist, she had scooped him up into her arms and started walking back inside.

“Tonight and tomorrow I'm going to teach you all about the great things in life you're missing!”

“That's not necessary..!” He gasped in some air as she had picked him up.

“Oh come on, dude, live a little!” She started tickling him before the door shut behind them.


And of course, they had their pizza that night. Alphonse did a great thing, Maria thought, seeing as now there was a plug in for the axuillary cable in the radio. She wasn't sure what kind of music Selim would like so she picked some generic album from her mp3 player to play.

Boredly, Selim kept colouring in his colouring book as ordered by the Mexicana. He rose a brow and got quite uncomfortable when the woman on the radio started singing about sex and disco sticks.

The first song had already left him discontented. It was bad enough that earlier she'd sung about being drunk at a club and unable to see straight anymore. Even though that in itself was bad, did she really have to sing about sex? The censorship laws would have put a plug on this woman long before her first single was released. This kind of behaviour would have gotten this woman not only a lot of public humiliation but she could have possibly looked forward to jail time.


Let's have some fun
This beat is sick
I wanna take a ride
On your disco stick
Don't think too much
Just bust that kick
I wanna take a ride
On your disco stick

“Um, Maria –“ Selim asked nervously.

“Yeah?” She sat there, taking a bite out of her pizza. He was lying on his belly, colouring in the book. They were in his bedroom. The guards were outside the room, the door cracked open about two inches.

“Are you sure we're supposed to be listening to this?”

“Oh believe me, Bradley-cito, they have much worse music than this out on the market. This ain't nothing.”

“Hmmmm...” He tilted his head down and continued colouring. Is she trying to corrupt me?
Inwardly, without noise, he laughed to himself.


Let's play a LoveGame
Play a LoveGame
Do you want love
Or you want fame?
Are you in the game?
Dans the LoveGame


Thus their entire evening consisted of being unproductive, just as Maria had planned. Her goal was to loosen up the knots that the boy had acquired since birth. She wanted to teach him what it was to be normal. What it was to be free.

Sure, she had a strange method of doing so but she had faith that it would work out in the end.


It was late the next morning when he stirred from sleep. That was strange, why hadn't the alarm gone off? He sat up and rubbed a single eye. Looking over at his bed stand, he expected to see his alarm clock. Instead, all he saw was his lamp and his watch. Someone had stolen his alarm clock.

Maria! Selim shoved off the covers. At least she had aided him in putting on his pajamas. She wasn't so irresponsible as to leave him in his clothes. His head perked up when he heard a knock at the door.

It opened up as the Mexicana wheeled a cart through the port into his room. She set it next to the bed with a smile.

“Rise and shine, Bradley-cito~!”

“What time is it?”

“Time for you to eat!”

“No, seriously. What time is it?”

“It's late. Doesn't matter. Eat up!”

“But what about school?”

“I called your tutor and canceled for you.”

“What?” The boy looked his plate over, finding an omelet with sausage and french toast. There was a cup of milk and another of orange juice. On the other end of his tray was a glass of red wine.

“I told him you were sick.”

“What's with the wine?”

“Ah,” Maria picked it up and took a loud sip. “That's for me. I'm not used to kids so I figure it can be my morphine for the rest of today.”

“You sure are strange.” Selim started pushing things around  the plate with his fork, eyeing her suspiciously.


That afternoon Maria had taken Selim to the park. At first he was hesitant about the things she wanted him to do there. Like play in the fountain, stand on the grass, pee in the corner, ect. However, he did them. He didn't know what the meaning of doing all these things were, that was, until she explained it to him.

“Miss Maria,” He asked politely as they sat together on the bench. He sat there, prim and proper while his babysitter leaned back against it lazily, her legs somewhat sprawled out and her arms on the back of it. “What was the meaning in doing all those things?”

“I wanted you to get a feel of what it was like to think and act outside the box.”

“What do you mean?”

“You've been raised in an environment where you've been told your entire life what to wear, how to eat, how to speak, what to think, what to do, what to be. I wanted you to know what it feels like to be free.”

“How is committing those illegal things being free?”

“To let you know that sometimes you have to go outside the bounds of your laws, rules, regulations to be able to get a point across. To be able to stand up for yourself when these laws can bind you and keep you from attaining your true self.”

My true self...?

“And it's more than just getting a point across. It's knowing the difference between right and wrong and doing what you feel and know is the right thing to do, for you. Even if it means going against big bad daddy.”

“Father...” He looked down, thinking of his current situation with himself and the other homunculi. However, she wasn't just talking about that, but everything in general. The thought came across his mind that she may know the truth after all. If she did, he would have to lure her by herself and kill her.

“The Fuhrer isn't going to be around forever,” She said, staring ahead of them blankly, “You're going to have to eventually learn to think for yourself.”

She didn't know, after all. Her life was spared.

“Meh,” She got up from the bench and brought her purse over her shoulder, “It's time for us to get back. Your mother should be returning soon.”

Selim hopped down and walked away with her.

“While you were sleeping this morning, I called Mr. Kimblee. He should be picking me up in a few hours from your place. They haven't found anything on that serial killer Scar, yet. Hopefully, by the time he picks me up, we can go after him immediately.”

“We'll just have to see, then?”

“That's right, Bradley-cito.”

He lifted his arm somewhat, ready to grab her hand. He hesitated, jerking it back a little, then finally, when relaxed, took hers into his. They walked through the park together, heading home.



“Goodbye, Miss Maria.” Selim said, standing next to his mother. The Mexicana mussed up his hair some with her hand, then got the nerve to kiss him on the forehead. There was a loud smooch before she got up to leave for the car.

“Be good, Bradley-cito. Even if it means disappointing someone else.” She said, sliding in next to Mr. Kimblee and shutting the door behind her.

“I wonder what she meant by that.” Mrs. Bradley tilted her head somewhat, pondering it. However, Selim knew exactly what she was talking about.

While they were driving, a quick image flashed through her mind. What had Patrick said about Selim Bradley? The image was of a quick screen shot she had seen over his shoulder.

Oh my God, She thought to herself, Selim Bradley is a homunculus. I entertained a homunculus! Good thing he didn't kill me..

“Something the matter, Miss Sanchez?” Kimblee asked, looking her over.

“Oh, nothing, Mr. Kimblee. I just remembered something.”

“Did you forget anything?”

“Yeah, I did. But it's okay, they're useless to me anyway.”

“What is?”

“I left the mint shoes I bought in Selim's room.”

“Do you want to go get them?”

“Nah, leave them there. It'll be something he can remember me by.”



It'd been a while since they left, but Selim couldn't help but stand there in the middle of his room and stare at the mint heels on his dresser. There was no way that that silly woman, Maria, could have done anything to shake his faith in his Father. Right? ...Right?


That was when Maria realized, she spent an entire evening and afternoon with a monster.


That boy is a monster – muh-muh-muh monster
That boy is a monster – muh muh muh monster
That boy is a monster – muh muh muh monster
That boy is a monster -er-er-er-er-er~

He ate my heart
( I love that girl )
He ate my heart
( Wanna talk to her, she's hot as hell )
He ate my heart
( I love that girl )
He ate my heart
(Wanna talk to her, she's hot as hell )