Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Of Ballet and Bullets ❯ Ballistic ( Chapter 2 )

Of Ballet and Bullets

 

Part 2 - Ballistic

 

A Full Metal Alchemist fanfiction, By Serenanna

 

Warnings and Disclaimers: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist or any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with. I'll return them later, promise. There is violence, adult content, and sexual situations in this story, but no naughty bits in this chapter. So, if you're under 18, leave now before your virgin eyes are scarred forever, if you're over 18, enjoy!

 

Story Notes: Time frame for this fic doesn't matter as my knowledge of FMA is a bit scattered but obviously before the ending and Maes's death, and set during the anime series. Also, this is an Ed/Winry and Roy/Riza fic (Two for the price of one!). Being this is fanfiction, liberties were taken with the actions of the characters and certain parts of the fic are not canonal, I just don't know which ones. This fic hinges on a lot more plot compared to the last time out in Overhaul, Overhaul 2, and A Betting Crowd, which I recommend reading before diving into this. This one has violent action scenes, suspense, humor, and mild angst in it, so the sex and romance may be few and far between. In summary, you're all getting what I call a real plot. No, really, I'm actually working on a real plot this time! Beta reading has been done by Darkilluser. (Thank you!) Read the above disclaimers again if you're still squeamish about reading this, blood splatter included, but I assure you, it'll be worth it in the end probably. Again, no pieces of automail, skirts, guns, tuxedoes, or ballet dancers were harmed in the production of this piece of . . . well . . .

 

***********

 

Nice dreams seemed to come more readily to Edward recently, especially in the hazy hours he spent sleeping late into the morning. And the dream he had just been having was a very nice one too. It was of Winry repairing him again, naked. He was naked too, but that wasn't the point. The point was that she was fixing more than just his arm, and it felt much too good to wake up from. Which was why when Al had finally shaken his brother awake, he slipped into his usual early morning berserker rage the instant his amber eyes opened. “Damn it! Stop shaking! I'm up!” Ed yelled, waving the armored gauntlet on his shoulder away before he buried his face in a pillow wet with drool, groaning, “Just when it was at the good part . . .”

 

“Brother, you've been sleeping all morning, and I don't think the Colonel's going to like it much if we're-,” Al said, and he could almost feel the frown in his brother's hollow voice. If he hadn't mentioned Mustang then the short alchemist might have listened. Instead, Ed grabbed the second pillow on his bed and pulled it over his head to drown his brother out, “I don't give a rat's ass what that bastard thinks, I'm going back to sleep.”

 

Even with the pillow over his ears he could still hear Alphonse's pleading whine. Why did always he make that little sound? As soon as he did that, Ed always caved like a lop-sided house of cards. Maybe it was his guilt kicking in again. “Brother . . .” he heard Al say, and that was enough to make him turn in the bed, glaring daggers at the suit of armor when the pillow slid off his head.

 

“Fine,” Ed muttered, groggy as he started to get up. He wasn't really awake as his eyelids still drooped down, the dream lingering in the back of his head, half remembered and half replaying over again. He really missed waking up next to her right about now. But as another pillow slammed into his gut, that blissful little dream was shattered by a rude shove into wakefulness along with Al's shriek, “Ew! Gross! Brother!”

 

“What?!” He shouted back, already scowling, more perturbed than normal with him.

 

“That!” the metal armor said, pointing a shaking finger at his pillow-cover lap. It finally occurred to Edward that his boxers were a little tighter than normal. It figured. It was after all a really, really good dream. Groaning, he crawled out of the bed and stomped towards the bathroom, using the pillow like a shield. “Oh, get off it, Al. We have this argument every morning when one of these episodes occurs. It's not gross, it's supposed to be normal remember.”

 

“Normal? That's normal? I don't remember Mr. Hughes talking about that in his lecture to us on girls and babies after Elysia was born,” Al grumbled, watching his brother retreat, happy that at least he was out of bed and moving.

 

“If you had a body again, you'd be getting them too, little brother,” His brother said before chuckling darkly, and the metal armor bristled with anger. If Al didn't know better, anyone might have called his reaction jealous rather than insulted. In some things, he was jealous of Ed, like being able to taste food, or being able to pet the kittens he picked up, or actually feeling the sun on his skin. But getting that thing every morning was one occurrence he would never be jealous of. No, if anything, he was more peeved at his brother would use his little problem as an excuse to be in the bathroom longer, making them even later. “Havoc said it was normal, remember?” Ed shouted back, “Before he tried to give us that magazine that Hawkeye shot to pieces.”

 

“Ugh, don't remind me. I must have blanked it out, as the magazine was bad enough, who could even look at girls like that?” Al asked while his brother tried not to grin, “I mean, you don't look at Winry like that do you?”

 

Ed sputtered at the sudden question while brushing his teeth, a rambling series of denials coming from his mouth, “Winry? Course not! Who would ever-? I mean really-?! Al, how could you-?! Just-?! This is Winry you're talking about! For goodness-! . . . No, I don't think of her like that . . .”

 

Al's hollow voice gave a low, pondering hum, not quite believing his brother. He always did that as soon as Winry was mentioned anymore. The startled look in his eyes, the sputtering, the vehement denial of anything about her that didn't deal with her violent tendencies and his automail, it all added up to something that Al couldn't place his finger on. It also made him wonder about his brother just a little, “Do you think of any girls like that?”

 

He has stopped in the middle of moving his toothbrush back and forth to slowly turn his head towards Alphonse. Did he just ask what he thought he asked? He was asking if he liked-? A shade between green and purplish-red crept over Edward's face, as if he was going to simultaneously die of embarrassment and anger before retching his guts out. There was only one logical response to that question as he spit out his toothpaste violently into the sink, “Ewww! Al! Of course I like girls! Just-just-just, not Winry, ok?! She's our best friend! You can't ask me these questions!”

 

“Why not, Brother?!”

 

“Because you're still ten! And you still think like you're ten! You still equate every pretty woman we meet with mom!”

 

“But mom was pretty! Maybe I just can't think about girls except like that! But . . . why can't I ask you about girls?! You just admitted to thinking of girls like that, so why?!”

 

“. . . Ask me again when we're older, but not now!” Ed yelled at Al before tossing the pillow he still clutched at the helm, nearly knocking it off, and slamming the bathroom door. Al sat there in the silence after the shouting match, assessing the results. It was inconclusive, like all their arguments. He knew for certain two things: that his brother was hiding something, and that he was changing in small ways. Ever since that summer, he was slowly relaxing. He still argued, a lot, but he'd stopped picking fights or he would let them slide. And there were moments when he actually had his nose out of an alchemy book, and paid attention. And all those trips back to Rizembool. Al was under the assumption his brother didn't like visiting where their home was because of everything that has happened there, which was why they burnt the house down in the first place, but . . .

 

Winry didn't seem to mind having them, and Ed didn't seem to object to prolonged visits.

 

It made him hum thoughtfully again, just pondering, going over the evidence in his head. The sound of running water came from the bathroom, and he knew his brother was in the shower. That was another thing he was jealous of, a nice, warm shower, and that thought distracted him. He needed to get out of there before they had another argument over nothing. “Stupid brothers . . .” Al muttered as he wandered out, knowing that the only thing that would make him feel better was trying to take in another cat.

 

Besides, the ensuing fight with Ed over keeping it or not would be enough retribution for one morning.

 

***********

 

Mustang almost bolted out of the office after Riza's revelations. Damn that kid! He had to pick today to sleep in! Since when was he turning into a surrogate father for those damned brats anyway? Roy grumbled at those thoughts as he walked quickly down the hallway, Hawkeye right behind him as usual, handing him his winter coat as they went. “I don't think this is a good idea, please sir, let me come with you. We can get a car from the motor pool, and get there quickly,” she explained, trying to catch up with him, “Going on your own isn't such a wise-.”

 

“I know I'm not being wise at the moment, but those kids are our responsibility, and I need you to take care of things here till I can bring them in,” he growled at her, not needing his orders questioned right now, as he took the stairs instead of the elevator, “What did you tell me once after the State Evaluation Exam before we got transferred, the one thing that could stop FullMetal completely in his tracks?”

 

“A bullet to the head, sir, but I didn't think anyone would have the balls to shoot at him.”

 

“We're all allowed to make mistakes, Hawkeye . . .”

 

“Roy . . .” she said, and he finally stopped, turning to look at her. She was standing on the staircase above, leaning over the railing as he was already going down to the next floor. There was something in her brown eyes that made his jaw snap shut before he could mutter the practical retorts he'd been thinking of to appease her. And yet, she was worried, very worried, and it showed. It wasn't like her to be this concerned or emotional, at least in public. Women's intuition? Maybe their relationship had finally made her paranoid over his safety like he was paranoid over hers? God, he really hated it now that both of them were in the military. His dark eyes widened, pleading with her silently to let him go before he spoke, “I'll be fine, Riza, we'll be fine, please, trust me.”

 

She frowned at him, her shoulders slumping, but she nodded reluctantly anyway, “At least give me something to do, don't make me just wait here for you.”

 

“Go to Maes, find out everything he knows about that bomb. Maybe you two putting your heads together will come up with enough evidence to prove your theory or come up with something else. If you're right, start pouring over every case the whole department has worked for the year. I want a list of known enemies just in case, and we also need a plan on how to hide them till we can figure this all out, and . . .” Roy said before he stopped, looking into her eyes.

 

He ran back up the stairs and grabbed her hand, tugging her across the landing towards one of the corridors. Riza glared at him in shock, thinking he was crazy as he pushed her into one of the small alcoves between offices. He glanced around them, making sure they were alone. Everywhere he looked the hallways were deserted, while he could hear the dull hum of work from the other rooms. She was just about to yell at him, her mouth open and angry words on the tip of her tongue when he kissed her.

 

Her voice squawked into his lips in surprise, then melted into low moan as her eyes slid shut. Roy's hands held her face, forcing her to be still as his tongue entwined with hers. Yet, instead of just letting him have his way with her, she fought back. She always fought back when he kissed her, as much passion in her lips as she could muster. It sucked him in and made him forget how easily someone could see them. Reluctantly, he pushed away, exhaling the breath he'd been holding, “I have to go . . . be a good girl till I get back.”

 

Riza snorted loudly as he pushed her out and towards the stairs going up, angry more with herself for how easily she let him get to her than at his words. She was just about to yell at him about how she was anything but a good girl when she watched him descend the other stair case, looking up at her. Roy's lips mouthed the words `love you' to her, and her anger faded away, her eyes stuck on him till he was gone. If there were strings attached to her heart, he was holding them, making her emotions dance just for him. She wanted to scream at how easily she'd handed that control to him, but it was too late now. With a sigh, Riza continued up the steps. She did love him, and she wouldn't take it back on her life, which made it harder for her to protect him all the same. The Lieutenant shook her head, muttering to herself, “Stupid men . . .”

 

***********

 

It took Roy a good thirty minute walk through the snow to make it to the military personnel dormitories away from Headquarters where the boys were staying. They had originally been in the common barracks till enough complaints had been lodged about the noise, the alchemistic mishaps, and the stray cats to get them thrown out on higher orders a few months ago. Maybe it was better this way, Riza had argued at the time, since they could learn to be independent outside of the barracks lifestyle, and learn to be kids again too. He had rolled his eyes then, and he still rolled his eyes now. They were already independent and still acted like kids, noisy, angry, dysfunctional kids if they managed to get tossed out that easily. He couldn't blame them, given everything but . . . damn it if Ed would just grow up a little maybe his life would be easier. At least the shrimp wasn't giving him grey hairs, yet.

 

Roy stopped outside the building when he noticed a hulking metal figure nearly hidden in the end of one of the alleys. It was Alphonse alright, almost miss-able as he was crouched down. Walking around, he immediately noticed the young orange-striped cat he was petting with back of one metal covered figure. And of course, the little fur-ball loved the attention, its tail waving back and forth lazily. This wasn't exactly the emergency he'd expected to find when Riza said the boys were late. It was so sweet that for a moment Mustang could nearly feel a cavity growing. Shame he had to break it up though, “Good morning, Al.”

 

300 pounds of metal, chainmail, leather, and human soul shot straight up, springing to face him, “Uh, Colonel! Sir! Um . . . good morning?”

 

As the cat ran with the heavy clinking of metal, the smug grin on Roy's face dissolved into chuckles, “Sorry to scare you and your little friend, and I should say afternoon, as it's almost lunch . . . is FullMetal still here?”

 

“Yeah, he should be down soon . . .” Al said, his eyes shifting in the helm, “Um, if you don't mind me asking, sir, why are you here?”

 

“Something's come up.”

 

“About last night?” he asked, and Roy nodded. He glanced over his shoulder a moment, wondering idly if he was followed to the boys' housing. For a moment, he swore there was a tingle on the back of his neck, as if he was being watched. Which way had he taken again? Maybe it was just Riza's paranoia rubbing off on him. Once he got them to Headquarters, they could sort this all out. He looked back at Al, and pointed towards the door, “I'll explain more inside.”

 

With a small squeak, he nodded and led the way, not asking about the Colonel's behavior as Roy continued to glance behind them till they were inside. The door to the room the boys stayed in at the end of the hallway opened when they were almost there, FullMetal stepping out, dressed and with a pack slung over his shoulder. Looking up, the frown on his face turned into a curious stare before dropping into a scowl, “What is this? Door to door harassment now?”

 

Roy frowned, “Not even a hello to your superior? I really should get Hawkeye to teach you more manners.”

 

“Brother . . .” Al said in a pleading voice, knowing this couldn't end well.

 

For once Ed managed to reign in his temper, crossing his arms after pulling the door closed, “It isn't like you to make social calls, and you normally send someone else to pick us up unless it's an emergency, so what's wrong, Colonel?”

 

“Let's talk inside the room. You both need to hear this, but the rest of the building doesn't,” Mustang said as his dark eyes shifted sideways. The urge to look over his shoulder was getting to be a pain. When Ed noticed the glance, it raised an alarm in his head that something was wrong as well. He opened the door and walked in, letting them in before closing it again. Roy tried not to frown as he noticed the untidiness of the room, stacks of alchemy books everywhere, along with used clothes, overflowing trashcans, and enough dust to make everything look slightly grey. He didn't remember his room being this bad when he was younger. For a moment he stared, making a mental note to get Hawkeye or Gracia Hughes to check in on these two when everything blew over. Those two would care enough about the Elric's living conditions to not question his judgment. He turned to Edward and Alphonse as they sat down on one of the unmade beds, looking up at him. “I'm sure you both remember last night . . .” he started.

 

Ed snorted, “Who wouldn't?”

 

“Lieutenant Hawkeye filed her report on what happened this morning, and after reading-.”

 

“You actually did paperwork?” FullMetal asked while looking up at the Flame Alchemist, the look of awe on his face either genuine or very, very sarcastically canned. Either way, Roy frowned. He didn't have time for this. Growling at the kid, he said, “I actually do work, Major, as shocking as it is. Now pay attention because this is a matter of your safety, and not any of my supposed manipulations.”

 

For once, his jaw snapped shut, listening as Mustang continued, “The Lieutenant calculated the trajectory of the shot that hit our suspect, and by all indications, that bullet was meant for you.”

 

The teenager blinked at him, “What?”

 

“Someone's trying to kill you, Ed.”

 

“What?! Sir, how is this possible?! I mean, people have tried to kill us before, but . . . an assassin?! Why would someone-?!” Al started, having a more hysterical response than his brother till he was stopped by being pulled back down before he could spring off of the bed. Roy exhaled the breath he'd been holding since he started to break the news to them, grateful that at least Edward was taking this seriously . . . till he noticed the perpetual scowl on his face again, “You don't expect me to believe this, do you?”

 

“Do you really believe I'd be here if I didn't trust Hawkeye's sharp-shooting knowledge? Snipers go for the head, but our suspect was hit in the chest around where your head would have been if you hadn't ducked,” Roy questioned him, continuing when there was no response, “I don't have all the answers right now, and in all honesty, we won't know till they strike again. I intend to get you both to safety first before that happens.”

 

Edward was still scowling, no matter how much sincerity he put into his words. He didn't look moved at all, while Al on the other hand was fidgeting, the armor clanking with shivers, “Brother, maybe he has a point, you were awfully close when the bullet hit the guy . . .”

 

“But what am I supposed to do, Al, give up the quest for the Stone and worry about myself?”

 

“Wouldn't be that much of a change of pace . . .” Roy muttered to himself, before cringing when he was obviously overheard with Ed's next out-burst, “What's that supposed to mean?! You're the one who's selfish! I bet you're just here instead of one of your lackeys just to look good for another promotion!”

 

The Colonel glared down on him as the words hit a little too deep, “I don't have time to argue my reasons, FullMetal. Now get up and get moving, I'm escorting you both to Headquarters.”

 

“I can go on my own!” Ed shouted back at him, unable to squelch his pride long enough to reason that he was bordering on insubordination, even if Mustang hadn't hurled an order at him yet, “I'm not useless like you!”

 

The young alchemist stormed past him and out of the room before he could shout back. Al shot up after him, trying to keep up with the pounding of metal, “Wait! Brother!”

 

“Shit,” Roy cursed, following as well. He was beginning to really hate that kid. If the assassin didn't get him first, maybe he just would. And he called him useless too! Why did everyone choose that word to insult him?! After bolting down the stairs and running outside, he noticed Al right on Edward's tail as he lagged behind. Growling, Mustang took off, trying to think of every short-cut to Headquarters that he knew as he ran. He muttered to himself, rounding another corner down a side alley, “Gah, kids these days! When I catch that short punk, I'll ring his neck!”

 

He ran around a set of trash cans, weaving in and out of the refuse littering the ground while avoiding the large piles of packed snow. Dimly, he could still hear their raised voices along with all the metal, which sounded like a rolling trash-heap when Al ran at full speed. Roy growled a little louder as they got closer, sprinting out of the alley before skidding to a halt. He emerged right in front of Edward, who stopped so short that he fell backwards, landing on his rump. Al stopped short too, but not quickly enough, plowing into both of them as armor went flying. Underneath what must have been the shoulder of a breastplate, the Colonel groaned in pain, “I am getting too old for this . . .”

 

**********

 

After untangling themselves from the pile of armor and reassembling Al, Edward caved, walking silently, and doggedly slow, next to Mustang, even if he didn't like it one bit. Why did everyone in Central still treat him and Al like kids? Hadn't he passed the exam on his own? Didn't he do enough for them? Didn't he survive enough horrors with his sanity still intact? Like Nina, or the Chopper, or Scar, or Lior? He was grumbling along those lines, the word respect slipping out once or twice, loud enough that Mustang snorted in laughter upon hearing him. Ed's angry scowl turned towards the source of the noise, “I bet you're just getting a kick of this, aren't you?”

 

“Honestly not, twerp, I don't like anyone in my department being in trouble,” he said with a deepening frown, “Maybe if you didn't act so reckless, someone wouldn't be out for your head right now.”

 

Of course, Ed wasn't listening. The only word that got through to him of course was the one related to his height, “Who are you calling a twerp so small that he ought to-bahhhh, you're not worth it . . .”

 

Roy rolled his eyes, grateful that FullMetal not only managed to keep his height-sensitive temper in check but also his choice of insults. It was always funny that he insulted himself far more than what anyone actually said about him. At least he didn't pick up his office's habit of swearing like there was no tomorrow. He could hear Al coming closer, the hollow voice talking to Ed, “Maybe he's right, brother. I know you've been taking more breaks lately, but now that it's close to leave again, you've been-.”

 

“Great, Al, thanks, take up his side why I don't you?” he muttered, kicking at a stone on the sidewalk, “I'm just frustrated between last night and today, like I'm getting side tracked by doing everything but what we've set out to do . . . and I'm friggen starving, can we stop for food?”

 

“I'll buy lunch in the officer's mess if you stop complaining and keep walking,” Roy said darkly, trying hard not to think in hindsight of how much that offer would cost him. Ed's appetite wasn't short at all. It was worth the blow to bank account though as the kid's mood seemed to have shifted with the prospect of all the food he could eat. But then again, he looked a little too vindictively happy. Mustang was almost thinking of taking it back when Al broke in, “You know, we're close to that restaurant you always go to for-!”

 

There was a loud bang of metal hitting metal behind them, coming from the suit of plate armor. Roy shoved Edward off his feet and down into a snow bank next to a car. A cry went up from the few people walking outside at the noise. Around him people were panicking, hurriedly getting off the once calm street. He spun around to see a new hole through Al's breastplate. “Huh?” was all the youngest Elric could say as another bullet struck through his helm.

 

“Al!” yelled Ed as he started to get up till Mustang pulled him back down while he crouched behind the car too. Curses started flying from the Colonel's mouth when more bullets rained down onto the car, the pavement, and the building facade, the only sound coming from their impact. Al regained enough of his senses to dive down next to them before he was hit again. His brother started to get up, clapping his hands together once with a spark of blue-white light till the Colonel shoved him back, yelling at him, “Stay the fuck down!”

 

“But Al-!”

 

“I'm fine, Brother!”

 

“But-!”

 

“We're being shot at! Worry about that!” Roy shouted at them both, trying to think quickly. Who ever they were, they were using silencers when the sound of another round hit the car without the bang of gunpowder. The shots also came quickly together, meaning there were more than one, and that they were all a bad aim he noted when some shots sailed over the car completely. He looked over at Edward when the noise stopped momentarily, the fear evident in his amber eyes and knitted brow. Roy smirked. He didn't like being up bullets either. He should have listened to Riza, her words of warning coming back to him. And he certainly could have used her right about now.

 

If he could distract the snipers long enough, the boys could make a break for it. Mustang glanced down at his gloves, and knew it was better than more property damage. “On the count of one, I want you both to start running towards Headquarters. Take the back alleys, and don't stop for anything,” Roy ordered them, glancing over his shoulder then ducking at another blast of shots, “I'm going to distract them.”

 

“What the hell-!? How!?” Ed questioned him, the scowl back.

 

“Same way I kicked your ass in the exam.”

 

“I still won in the end, bastard!”

 

“It was a draw!”

 

“Win!”

 

“Gah, just do as I say, FullMetal!”

 

“But what about you, sir?!” Al asked, obviously terrified from the shake in his voice. That was a good question, and even Roy didn't know the answer. Once he let off a burst of fire, he wasn't sure what would happen, if it would work or not, or if they'd be gunning for him then. If he could just get the kids moving, that would be enough. “Don't worry, I'll be right behind you, but we have to move,” he said, trying to convince himself of the same thing.

 

The two boys nodded, waiting in crouches as he started counting when the next round hit, “Three, two, one!”

 

Roy sprung up from his spot, and which a click of his fingers, shot off a plume of fire towards the building across the street, flaring over the roof till it was scorched. There was a large collective cry from the bystanders all around them at the sight, as well as the screech of car breaks, and the crunch of metal in collision. Then the bullets stopped, and the boys were off and running. It worked, for now. Mustang ran as well, following the sight of Edward's red coat and the clanking of Al. “Turn left!” He shouted and the young alchemists obeyed.

 

They ran head long down an alley, making sharp turns round the corners at Roy's barking orders of directions and moving quickly across the back streets of Central. Ed turned to shout back as they made another sharp right, thinking they had double-backed again, “Have we lost them yet?!”

 

“Shut up and keep running!” the Colonel yelled, his sense of danger still on high alert since the shooting on the street. This wasn't exactly how he'd pictured the assassin's next attempt. There would be hell to pay for this incident with the brass, and he knew it. At least it proved Riza's theory right.

 

**********

 

He should have been back half an hour ago. Or at least that was what First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye thought as she tried not to pace outside of their department's office door, watching the stairs and elevator across the atrium for the Colonel or the Elrics. Her talk with Maes hasn't calmed her worries at all. In fact, it tripled them. She hated being right sometimes, most of those times coming when it dealt with Roy. Someone was gunning for Edward alright. The bomb was on a timer, and that timer was set for their original operation start time for the raid till Roy moved it up ahead of schedule at the last minute when they learned that the buyer was coming earlier too. That time had been all over their request forms for more personnel and equipment. She had filled in over half of them herself.

 

They had a mole, and it made her very nervous.

 

They could have known where the boys' dorms were after they'd been moved out of the barracks. They could be ambushed right now, and she was standing there with her thumb up her ass waiting because Roy ordered to wait. Instead of pacing, the heel of her boots tapped on the stone floor. She didn't like waiting for him at all. It was then that she heard the office phone ring. She nearly sprinted through the door to pick it up when Havoc grabbed it first. Riza nearly snapped at his grin till his face dropped, paling slight. “Is it the Colonel?” she asked, barely containing the panic lancing through her as her thoughts raced.

 

Jean hung the phone up after a few long silent moments, and started fumbling for his cigarettes, lighting up, rules or not, as he spoke, “That was the switch-board alert, there was a shoot out and a fire in the air reported a minute ago on Renard Drive, and knowing the Colonel . . .”

 

“That's halfway to the Elric's building from here.”

 

Havoc nodded, taking a long drag “They also said a metal trashcan, a kid in a red coat, and a guy in a blue uniform were seen fleeing the scene.”

 

Riza sprang into action, grabbing her coat and the key for the gun cabinet from her desk, “Jean, you have two minutes to go and commandeer a car from the motor pool, the fastest one they have. Bring it to the front driveway, and keep it running till I get there.”

 

“Sir! Er, ma'am! Um . . . where are we going?”

 

Hawkeye's brown eyes narrowed as she unlocked the cabinet, pulling out her long-range rifle and scope. He'd told her to wait for him, and now she was about to commit insubordination. He'd reprimanded her later, for sure, but would thank her even later than that. It would all be worth it if they were still alive by the time she found them, “To find Colonel Mustang.”

 

**********

 

The alley suddenly ended as they sprung out onto another sidewalk, and stopped, this one busier as there was a press of people around them. Looking around, Mustang realized they where they were, and cursed out loud, “Dammit, I over guessed, we're ten blocks east.”

 

“Smart move, Colonel,” Ed sneered before turning right and starting through the crowd. Roy didn't like this at all as they tried to make their way through the packed sidewalk. There were too many people around if the assassins struck again. Civilian deaths, the last thing he needed on his conscience. He needed to get them out of here fast, “Go two blocks up and take that alley.”

 

“Your sense of direction going to get us ten blocks west of Headquarters then?”

 

“Brother . . .”

 

“For crying out loud, Al, we were shot at! You have at least three holes in you now and are damned lucky it didn't hit the blood seal! And Colonel Bastard got us lost!”

 

“We are not lost!” Roy shouted back, the little brat's attitude finally getting to him, “It's this kind of attitude that's probably why someone's trying to shoot you in the first place! At least now you believe me!”

 

Edward spun around, flying up and over his brother's shoulder to shout in his face, “I may believe you now, but you're still a fucking idi-, Colonel, look! Up there!”

 

Mustang turned and looked at where the boy's finger was pointing, a shadow darting across the roof, “God, they're right on top of us.”

 

Panicking, Roy shoved Al forward, plowing him through the crowd with shouts from startled people. The alley was still far off. They'd never make it going this slow. He turned back to watch the shadow, tracking its movement above them. Was it one or two? The figures split apart, hazy in the glaring sunlight reflecting off the snow. Who ever they were or how ever many, it was more important that he stopped them. “Down! Now!” he shouted to Al, and the armor toppled forward, covering his brother as Roy's fingers clicked.

 

The fire went straight up along with a scream from the crowd. People scattered, giving them an opening as he shouted, “Run!”

 

Al plunked Ed off the snow-covered pavement and set him on his feet, tugging him along as they ran for the next alley. The Colonel looked up, trying to find the ones chasing them again. They were gone. Or were they? Not about to find out, Roy took off after the boys, following them. How he wished he'd listened to Riza now.

 

**********

 

Edward collapsed, nearly exhausted as he pressed flat against one of the alley walls. He was wheezing for breath and clutching his chest. Every muscle in his body was protesting moving again. Even his automail felt sluggish. “I can't run anymore,” he declared, shaking his head at the Colonel who stood across from him looking just as tired.

 

“I'm fine,” Al said as they both glared at him.

 

“We don't have much of a choice,” Roy said finally as he glanced up again, praying this small break wouldn't cost them dearly. Despite how cold it was with the snow all around, he felt like he was overheating as he pulled at the collar of his jacket and winter coat. He was also starting to get too used to the prickling of paranoia at the back of his neck, probably not a good thing. They needed to keep moving. “Come on, I think we're only three blocks away now,” he said as he started to move despite the protest of his feet.

 

“You think? You said we were three blocks away five minutes ago before we got shot at again . . .” Ed said as he scowled. This time Al didn't stop his brother when he heard the dangerously pissed off tone of his voice. He'd given up along time ago trying to make him calm down, as he wasn't too calm right then either. Roy glared back at him, his anger snapping again. The two of them were set to start another argument when there was a noise above them. It sounded like the sliding of a roof tile. “Shit,” the Colonel cursed as he grabbed FullMetal by his jacket, and pushed him ahead of them, “Move! Now!”

 

They ran again as the bullets came down where they had just been standing. Before long, the alley opened onto another deserted, unplowed street except for one car quickly coming towards them through the snow. “Great, they have fucking backup?” Roy cursed again, his words nearly incoherent over the beating of adrenaline in his heart.

 

As he glanced to his right, the capital over Headquarters loomed. He pointed, and the boys took off as he followed. They nearly flew down the sidewalk, crushing snow into the pavement in their wake. When they came close to another intersection, Edward heard a faint click as they skidded to a halt while bullets hit the road in front of them. Roy snapped his fingers towards the rooftop snipers, stalling for time as the boys started moving again. They were about to cross to the next block when a rifle appeared out the passenger window of the car coming down the street.

 

He hated being right.

 

The Flame Alchemist grabbed the both of them by the neck and pulled them back, stopping Al while sending Edward sprawling in the snow, “Jerk! What the hell!”

 

He pointed at the car, and was about to snap his fingers when the gun pointed up towards the roof before taking a shot. A sniping shot from a moving car? He only knew one person that good with a gun . . . “Riza!” he yelled as the car stopped in front of them with a squelch of breaks.

 

The car horn honked, and Mustang had never felt gladder to see Havoc driving. Hawkeye pounced over the Second Lieutenant till he was pressed into the steering wheel, almost hanging out the window with her rifle. “Get in!” she yelled as she fired more shots up towards the roof.

 

Ed didn't need to be told that, as he was already at the door with Al right behind him. Roy followed them, shots raining down behind him and hitting the side of the car as he slammed the door shut, “Drive!”

 

Jean pushed Riza back into her seat, making her nearly drop the rifle and shoot windshield out as she glared at him. He ignored all of her stares and hit the gas, taking off down the street at a speed that certainly wasn't legal. With bullets no longer whizzing by them, Roy and Ed sat sprawled in exhaustion all over Alphonse and the back seat. “Sir?” Riza asked as he couldn't stop gulping for air, “Are you ok?”

 

If he wasn't so damned happy to see her again, he might have glared at her. Instead, he put his head back on the seat, “No, I'm not ok. We were shot at, and we've been running for nearly fifty blocks.”

 

“Fifty?”

 

“He got us lost,” Edward muttered, not feeling any compulsion whatsoever to not glare at Riza himself. She rolled her eyes as Jean snickered from the driver's seat, slowing down enough to not break any traffic laws as they were headed back towards Headquarters. Roy grumbled at the dissention in the ranks, “Yuck it up, so I don't know every back alley and dive in this town yet, does anyone else in this car think they could have done better?”

 

FullMetal was the only one to raise his hand, albeit weakly, while the rest of them looked sheepishly around the vehicle. He looked up to scowl at the kid then flopped his head back again, “Why doesn't that surprise me?”

 

Ed grinned in victory, putting his hand back down. There was nothing but silence in the car, even from Al. It took the young alchemist a long time during the ride to finally admit defeat to the Colonel, “I can't believe you were right. Someone is trying to kill me.”

 

“Told you so.”

 

“Brother . . . what are we going to do?” Al asked, suddenly feeling rather insignificant. For a long moment, he was silent, thinking over that thing himself. Guns were about the one thing he couldn't defeat with his alchemy, no matter how quickly he could clap his hands together and envision the circles. It made him worried . . . very worried. Glancing over to the adults in the car, he probably said the first sensible thing he'd said all day, “I have no idea . . .”

 

**********

 

To Be Continued in Of Ballet and Bullets, Part 3, Who's Coming to Dinner.