Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Expect the Unexpected ❯ Never Take Friendship Personal ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Disclaimer: Nope, I do not own Full Metal Alchemist. And most of the chapter titles I have for this story are song names. This one, 'Never Take Friendship Personal,' is by a wonderful rock band called Anberlin. I do not own the song or the title, I'm merely borrowing it.Note: This story is up on fanfiction.net, as well, under the same penname I have here if you are extra anxious to see what happens next. I have quite a few chapters up there already.Chapter 2: Never Take Friendship Personal
It was still raining twenty minutes after Ed left the police station. The fact that the weather on the radio said it wasn’t going to clear up for a while made Ed feel all gooey inside. Actually, if anything was gooey, it was his tolerance for pain.
Oh, and he was lost, too.
Yes, Edward Elric, part of the Criminal Intelligence Division of Central City Police, a twenty-one year old man who was supposed to meet diva Winry Rockbell, was lost.
And he would never admit it to anyone–ever.
He swore loudly when his cell phone rang. He knew just who it would be, too. Reluctantly, he grabbed the nuisance of an electronic device on the passenger seat. He didn’t even have to check the number before he answered.
“Yes, Hughes?” he growled.
There was a pause on the other line long enough to make Ed wonder if he was wrong. It had happened before, but only once or twice. "You’re good,” came the voice. “I heard about your new assignment."
Edward rolled his eyes. “Hughes, I’m driving in the rain, and I have no idea where I’m at.” Hadn’t he just told himself he would never tell anyone he was lost? “I don’t have time to talk.”
“Lighten up, Ed.” There was another pause. “So…tell me about Miss Rockbell,” Hughes asked easily.
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t met her yet since I’m lost in the pouring rain.” Maybe if he enunciatedthe rain part, Hughes would call someone who wasn’t driving.
“Well, be sure to call me whenever you have a chance. I would love to know more about her. I wonder if it’s something in her personal life that makes her voice sound like an angel. I’ve heard rumors that–”
For the past five minutes, Ed had been on a secluded gravel road off the main street through suburban Central. Ed had just expected that, when he left the close streets and tall buildings of Central that he would just have to turn around, the road being a dead end or a wrong turn. What he hadn’t expected was to suddenly be halted rather roughly. Before he could hold himself back, Edward’s head hit the steering wheel none-too-gently. When he sat back up, he saw little stars going in circles around his head.
“Ed? Edward, are you still there?” came Hughes’ voice through the phone.
Ed sighed, not at all pleased. “Hughes, let me call you back,” he said wearily. “I just ran my car into something.”
“You all right?” the detective asked. Yeah, the man was always talking about his wife and children or if someone wasn’t married that they needed to find a wife or husband. But he also cared a lot for his friends. That was why Ed could stand the man.
Ed nodded. “Yeah. Just hit my head is all.”
"Be careful,” Hughes said. “And don’t forget to–”
Edward hung up before his friend could finish his sentence. He tossed the phone on the seat next to him with a growl. Why him? Why did his days always have to go bad? Why couldn’t Mustang’s days ever go bad?
He pulled his coat on and stepped out in the pouring rain. When he looked around, he saw the faint outline of two tall pillars. When he walked closer to the hood of his car, he almost ran into a wrought iron gate. Ed hadn’t realized how hard it was raining. So he leaned down to look at the front fender.
Dented very badly.
He stepped back and fisted his hands in his hair. A few choice swear words left his mouth rather loudly. To vent some of his frustration, he kicked his front tire a few times, cursing each time. He only stopped when he heard a faint crackling near the gates. It puzzled him for a minute before he approached the gate. There was a little screen, a keypad, and an intercom. Ed wiped the screen and saw someone looking back at him. Looking up showed him a small security camera pointing down at him.
“State your name and business here,” the man, who looked very much like a butler, said.
“Edward Elric, Criminal Intelligence Division of Central City Police. I’m here to see Ms. Rockbell,” he announced, holding up his badge.
“The gates will open in just a moment,” the butler told Ed.
The blond man reached back and rubbed his neck. “Yeah, about the gate…I–”
"We will see to it, sir, when you are out of the rain.” Immediately, the gates opened and the screen turned off.
Ed grumbled to himself and slid back into his car. He hoped it would start again. After about three tries, there was life in the vehicle, blessedly. But it didn’t sound very pleased with him. As soon as he went through the gates, Ed’s jaw dropped. She lived on a frickin’ mountain! It took him five minutes to reach the top because he had to negotiate the sharp U-turns.
By the time he reached the house–no, it was a mansion–Ed was fuming. He was muttering and swearing under his breath. Once he parked the car, the front door of Winry's home opened and the man from the gate intercom appeared in the doorway. Before Ed climbed out of his car, he shoved the case file into his briefcase, put his cell phone in his inner coat pocket. He checked the gun on his shoulder harness to be sure he had it. Sure, he knew there wasn’t an obvious need to have one for the meeting, but he preferred to always be prepared, or at least have it for protection.
Finding everything to his satisfaction, Ed climbed out of his car and rushed to the door, still rather frustrated. He made sure it was clearly writtenon his face as he went inside. As he shed his dripping coat, he scowled. As he accepted a towel to dry his hair, he scowled. Edward Elric wasn’t pleased.
“Mistress Rockbell will be here momentarily. Please follow me to the sitting room.” The man sure was stuffy. Ed almost gagged at the politeness issued toward him.
When they reached the sitting room, the butler informed Ed he would “fetch” Mistress Rockbell. He chuckled at the man’s back and reached up to his braid. Carefully, Ed pulled the elastic cord from around his hair and shook his braid out. Or tried to shake his braid out. In his hair’s current drenched state, it was hard to do much but work through it with his fingers.
Once his hair was loose, he rubbed the towel over his head to keep the rain water from dripping down his back more.As he heard footsteps and voices coming back to the sitting room, Ed started to braid his hair again. He was halfway finished when his charge and her butler came back into the room.
Edward would be lying if he said Winry Rockbell wasn’t an attractive woman. She had the light blond hair that most girls dreamed for, clipped on the back of her head with a little bit left down to frame her face. Her blue eyes rivaled the sky on a clear day in mid-summer. Her complexion was flawless and her face very pale, but in a strange, healthy way. They way she carried her well-proportioned form spoke that she’d been raised right, to know she had worth and didn’t need anyone else to tell her that. That was probably the second thing he had begun to admire her for.
The first had been her ability to make it as a soft opera singer in Central City. That took spunk.
But at the moment, he only thing that related the lovely woman before Ed was her looks. He could sense her fear of her situation more and more as she came closer. Ed would have felt sorry for her if he hadn’t known that they would probably never speak again when the ordeal was finished.
So instead, he decided it would be best to be impersonal through their time together. It would be for the best.
Winry sat down on a very overstuffed beige sofa. “Sit down,” she said softly, gesturing to the seat behind Ed. She rested her elbows on her knees and clasped her hands together. Slowly, he sat down and pulled his small notebook out of his shirt pocket. “Would you like some coffee?”
Mentally, Ed started to take notes on first impressions. “Yes, please.” Best be polite he figured, and try for a good start. They would be together forquite a bit oftime, perhaps; they didn’t need to be going at each other like a cat and mouse. But if that turned out to be the case, who would be the cat and who would be the mouse?
The butler approached him. “How would you like your coffee, sir?” he asked.
Ed looked at the man. “Black,” he answered. “I’m lactose intolerant.” It was a lie, but it would keep cream out of his coffee.
Then the much older man looked at Winry, unmoved by Edward’s feint. “And you, Miss Rockbell?”
“Some tea, please, Primus.” Winry hung her head down and stared at the floor. Then she looked up, almost shocked. “I’m sorry, my manners have run away. It’s obvious, but I’m Winry Rockbell.” She attempted a smile, but it came as more of a grimace.
“It’s fine, Ms. Rockbell. Ed Elric.”
“Just call me Winry, please.”
Ed looked down at his notebook and began his notes once more. “Mm-hmm.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Winry leaning over like she was trying to see what was in his notepad. “What are you writing?” she asked.
“Notes…” he mumbled.
“Already?”
Ed nodded as Primus came back in. The white haired man set a saucer with a deep blue tea cup in front of Winry. Then he placed a miniature pitcher containing cream and something else containing sugar. Ed had no clue what they were called. Then the butler brought a mug the same color of Winry’s cup in front of him. “Your coffee, sir. Black, as you requested.”
“Thank you.” Ed nodded to the man.
The butler looked at Winry. “Do you have anymore need of me, Miss Rockbell?” he asked.
“No, Primus.” She looked down at the floor again and sighed. “Thank you.”
When the butler was a safe distance away, Ed launched into his plan. “How long has Mr. Primus been working for you?” he asked.
She thought a moment. "For about…six, seven months?” she answered.
“How did his résumé look?” Ed wanted to know.
Winry looked up at him seriously. “Are you implying that Primus could be the one sending the letters?” she demanded.
Ed simply shrugged. “In this game, Miss Rockbell, everyone’s a player,” he said, “whether we want them to be or not.”
“What am I in this ‘game?' ” she dared to ask.
He thought a moment. “You are the victim.”
“And what are you?”
Ed smirked. “I am…I am the moderator, in case things get rough.”
Winry smirked as well. “Quite modest, are we?” she asked sarcastically.
“I tend to think of it is as being confident. Anyway, to start this off, I’d like a list of all of your friends, family, and acquaintances,” Ed requested. “As soon as you can compile it.”
“Why?”
Edward hated that word. Inwardly, he cringed. “I’m going to run background checks,” he suggested. “Remember, everyone is a player, and one or more of those players are culprits. It’s my job to keep you safe and find outwho is trying to hurt you.”
She seemed to be contemplating his order. “Fine. But I’m not putting my family down. They did everything they could to get me where I am today. They wouldn’t try to take it away.” Winry’s voice seemed adamant of her decision.
Ed sighed. “Do you have any siblings, Miss Rockbell?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, but I don’t see what they would have to do with it.” Now she sounded annoyed.
“Brothers or sisters?”
A scowl made its way onto her features. “Shouldn’t this have been in your file over there?” Winry asked, pointing at the manila folder on the couch next to him.
He looked at her with a calm, slightly mocking smile on his lips. "Brothers or sisters?" he repeated.
She sighed. "Two sisters, two brothers, all older," she replied finally.
"Any of them have a spectacular talent that, if it were known, would make them famous?" He lifted an eyebrow as the butler walked in front of the door and then off to some unknown part of the house to do who knew what.
Winry squeezed the bridge of her nose tightly as though to relieve a headache. Ed could relate, though it wasn't a headache. It was the ache in his limbs. The smell of rain was heavy in the air."My oldest sister could sing as well, but she was very shy."
Ed snapped his fingers. "Bingo, a motive. If she were jealous enough, she could be the one doing this." Before Winry could protest, he quickly added, "So, see? Everyone's a player."
"She wouldn't think like that! She was happy for me!" Winry argued in defense for her sister.
With a dismayed shake of his head, Edward closed his notebook. "My little brother, a great guy. He's twenty; very smart. He knows all this stuff about metal working and armor. He can draw, too...God, he's smart," he said admiringly.
"What's your point?"
"Al makes armor...sometimes, he makes more money that I do off of one suit of armor." Ed looked at Winry pointedly. "I get jealous of my younger sibling. I'm the one supposed to bring home money enough to feed us, not him."
Winry was silent. Ed looked at his watch out of habit. He didn't realize that it was already eleven o'clock. His stomach hadn't even complained yet. So he stood up.
"Miss Rockbell. There is a lot of work that will have to be done, including that list from you." He paused. "I live about an hour away. If something were to happen to you here, I couldn't make it in time, driving so far."
Winry stood as well. "What are you suggesting?"she asked, folding her arms over her chest.
"In order to protect you how my boss would want me to, I would have to live here." Ed looked around him. "It looks like you have enough room for a boarder or two."
"Two?" she echoed.
He looked at her seriously. "I just can't let my brother live alone in Central's slums. Plus, he'd kill me if I didn't ask." There was a pause. "For him to meet you, I mean. He's a big fan."
She nodded skeptically. "Right. The one that makes armor?" she asked.
"One in the same. He's the only family I have surviving." Ed smiled halfway, albeit a little painfully.
Winry made to say "Oh," but no sound came out. "Well, if you must to do your job correctly," she relented.
Ed nodded, grateful, as his cell phone rang. It was immediately present to him, procured from his coat pocket. Edward furrowed his brow a little before answering. "Ed Elric," he said curtly into the phone.
"Hey, Brother." It was Alphonse. "You busy?"
Ed rolled his eyes. "What if I was in a very important meeting with Captain Mustang about a promotion?" he returned. To Winry, he mouthed "Younger brother." She nodded.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I'll call you back." The younger man sounded genuinely sorry.
"Wait a second, Al. I didn't say I was in a meeting. I said what if. Big difference. What do you need?" Then Ed pulled the phone away from his ear.
"Brother! The Handbook has something to say about tricking me!" Al yelled.
Ed looked at Winry, who appeared faintly amused. "What's up?" he asked casually. To Winry, he said, "What are you doing for lunch?"
She looked at a loss for a moment. "Nothing. Primus was going to make chef salad, I think."
"Al, meet me at the diner in town, all right? You know the one." He motioned for Winry to wait just a second. "Be there in thirty minutes." Then he hung up his phone.
"What was that about?" Winry asked.
"You're doing something for lunch now. Al wanted to meet you, and I figured that I should let him as soon as humanly possible. He can be a pest."
Winry looked at him as if she was about to blow a head gasket. "You can't do that!" she exclaimed.
Ed paused, midway pulling on his still-damp coat. "Can't do what?" he asked, looking at her over his shoulder with his notebook between his teeth.
She took a step forward and snatched the pad of paper away. "You can't just schedule a lunch for me at God knows where and expect me to be ready to go in five minutes!" she told him heatedly.
Ed looked aghast as he pulled his coat on the rest of the way. "Guess what, Miss Diva? I just did. My little brother really wants to meet you and now isthe best chance. If you don't get ready in five minutes, I won't be a gentleman and pick up the bill," Ed threw back, just as heatedly.
They glared at each other for a moment. The first one to move wasn't Ed.