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Unsettling Affairs	By : xkesshoux Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1906 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Each
individual chapter will have a different rating, different pairings,
different spoilers, and a different setting and timeline. Multiple
people were involved in writing this fic, I do not claim to have
written anything other than my own characters. I do however claim to
have come up with the plot, story idea, and organizing it all. The
others who write characters in this fic are well aware that I am
posting it, and contribute willingly. This fic is an ongoing project
with an unknown number of parts, with alternate storyline as of the
fifth laboratory incident. Enjoy!

Trivialities

Rating:
PG-13
Pairings: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own
FMA.
Spoilers: None really.
Setting: Unsanctioned
land between Central and Ishbar.
Timeline: The first
negotiation session, approximately two weeks after Havoc is
trasnferred to Ishbar, a week and a half since Ed's death.

Jonathan
Scher leaned back in his uncomfortable chair, arms crossed, black
brows beetled over bright blue eyes. "I thought they were
supposed to be here by now," he snapped irately. "Second
Lieutenant Havoc, go check to see if the other party is coming."

Havoc
huffed a sigh. I'm a guard, not an errand boy, he thought
grouchily. He was missing out on a craps game that he had sort-of
wanted to join.

"Sorry
to keep you waiting, gentlemen..." came the silky voice from the
tent-flap, which now was held open by some guard or other that had
been outside, as a flash of blood red and emerald showed itself from
behind Ishbarite drapings. The man swiftly moved forward to take a
seat opposite Scher, handing the sand-laden garments to a young
officer who had followed him in.

"Shall
we get down to business, Sirs?"

Scher
nodded. "Yes. My name is Jonathan Scher. And you are...?"
An attendant set down a water service and a pad of paper in front of
both men. Inkwells and pens were made available.

"Fawkes,"
the man replied without hesitation, nodding to his escort, who
stepped back to the side and out of the way. "Ashton Fawkes."

"Pleased
to make your acquaintance. You do not mind that I have soldiers in
the tent with us? I assure you, they will keep silent on every aspect
of this meeting." Scher folded his hands neatly, resting them on
the table.

"That
is the way of the military, a precaution that I would similarly take,
there is no need to question it." The one who addressed himself
as Fawkes did however take the opportunity to observe each and every
soldier for a brief moment, his one visible eye darting across the
tent and finally settling back on Scher. "It is acceptable."

Havoc's
eyes narrowed as more meaningless trivialities were exchanged.
Something stank about the whole setup. The easy, demeaning arrogance
that Fawkes had made his skin crawl. How now, a rat... His
hands clenched behind his back.

"Now,"
Scher said pleasantly. "For the record, would you mind stating
your demands clearly?"

"Hn...."
Fawkes reclined somewhat casually in the chair, despite the
unwillingness of said chair to allow such comfort. "First of
all, we require military funding for our research department, as well
as access to your Central's libraries and archives. All of them..."
He made sure to accent the world 'all' in order to be perfectly
understood. "We're also entitled to the aid of several
alchemists in reconstruction of our homeland which you destroyed..."
He paused briefly.

"I'm
sorry," Scher said smoothly, warming to his task. "But for
us to fund this 'research', we must first know what you are looking
into. And as for the library and archives... they still have yet to
be restored. We are making progress, but it is very slow."

"I
see... I'll have to speak with my superiors about disclosing such
information regarding our research..." Fawkes remained collected
and relaxed, shifting his position slightly. "We also request to
be given full authority over Central's research laboratories and all
information that lies within...as well as the unsanctioned badlands
between North and Drachma..."

"Several
of our research facilities are in use by our State Alchemists,"
Scher pointed out gently. "We cannot afford to have these men
interrupted in their work. The facilities not in use have been...
neglected beyond repair, in some instances. As for the badlands..."
he shrugged elegantly. "I will have to speak to the Fuhrer. As
far as I know, I do not have the authority to negotiate about such a
contested piece of land.

"However,
we may be able to allow a select few of your alchemists to view what
we have reconstructed of the Central Library."

"I
wouldn't expect you to have that authority...it is why the terms are
simply being laid out here..." Fawkes practically purred, lazy
grin on his face. "Do speak with your Fuhrer, I'm sure that
negotiations will be made rather agreeable, as I've dealt with the
man on personal business before..."

He leaned
forward slightly. "I also must ask if you would so kindly halt
any further investigation against my men and I...I'm no fool you
know..." There was a hint of a feral gleam in Fawkes' eye that
one wouldn't necessarily have to look very closely to see.

"I
was unaware of an investigation of you and your people," Scher
said calmly, unperturbed. "If any such action was taken, it is
most probably out of my jurisdiction to repeal. I am a private
citizen, employed as an Ambassador, not a member of the military. I
doubt they'd heed any words of mine." He waved a hand back over
his shoulder. "Take it up with one of my guards afterwards."

"I'll
be certain to..." Fawkes eyed the smoking blonde in the corner
with an amused grin. "As for the more trivial aspects of the
bargaining...my men require two hundred thousand up front before any
further negotiations are made...you may state your end now if you
will..." He waved a hand nonchalantly, eyes settling back on
Scher.

Scher
smiled kindly. He produced a receipt. "The Fuhrer anticipated
such demands. Here is a receipt for two hundred fifty thousand. Due
to such a large sum, we were unable to bring it with us. If you could
send an emissary to any regional bank, they will have the cash for
you. Guarding it is your own problem." He smiled again, to take
the sting out of his words.

"But
of course..." Fawkes grinned himself and took the receipt,
nodding politely in return.

"May
I safely assume that this meeting is over, or do you have further
desires you wish to express?"

"I
have nothing more to ask, so I suppose it would be assumed over,
unless you have issues to set?"

"None
until I get word back from the Fuhrer. We will send a messenger to
your camp when another meeting requires arrangement." Scher
stood up and held out his right hand. "It was a pleasure to meet
you, Ashton Fawkes."

The
red-haired man stood as well, taking Scher's hand. You're lucky
he's not left-handed, Deceit old boy, you would've had to show your
trump card a little too early... "I'll expect a response
then, the pleasure is mine, sir. Shall I be granted permission to
speak with that guard there?" Fawkes tilted his head in the
direction of the soldier marked Second Lieutenant with the tawny hair
and the cigarette seeming to become more and more tightly clenched
between his teeth. "He looks like a nice fellow..." The
grin was evident.

You
know what, you redheaded, bastard, screw you! Havoc thought
furiously.

Scher
lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "Second Lieutenant Havoc? He's
a little beneath you, are you sure? By all means, you have my
permission, but wouldn't you require the Major?"

Screw
you too, old man. Havoc's teeth ground together.

"I
think I can trust the boy to be good and relay whatever messages I
might have for the good Major..." Fawkes smiled coyly.
"Besides...I like this one..."

Scher
shrugged, a little bewildered by it all. "Well, then I will
leave you alone with the Second Lieutenant." He motioned all of
the guards out along with his attendants. He was the last one out, an
antiquated way of showing faith in one's opponent.

Havoc
repeated the ten most obscene curses he knew silently to himself.

With
another coy smile, Fawkes both waved out his escort and offered the
Lieutenant the chair across from him. "Do have a seat,
Lieutenant...far be it for me to deny you that small luxury in
speaking with me..."

Havoc
pinched out his cigarette, slipping it away. "I'll stand, thank
you, sir." He took up the at-ease position, legs slightly apart,
back straight, hands behind his back. "It would be rude to sit
in front of a dignitary, sir."

"I'd
hardly call myself that, but if you insist..." Fawkes pulled out
a cigarette himself, itching for the nicotine, and placing it between
his lips. "Happen to have a light on you, good sir?" He
grinned awkwardly around the stick.

"Yes,
sir." Havoc pulled out his lighter, placing it on the table.

"Thanks
much..." Fawkes lit the cigarette and took a long drag, tossing
the lighter back to Havoc. "Your investigation department lacks
a certain amount of appeal if I may be so bold..."

He caught
it, stone faced. "I wouldn't know, sir. I'm not in Intelligence.
Though, I must admit that I was startled to hear of the tactlessness
of Intelligence when you said that they were investigating you."

That's
not to say I think you don't deserve it, you greasy little smear.

Thick
and stubborn, aren't you, boy...you're quick to catch on...have to
deal with that before you can leave...

"You
have some friends in Intelligence, though, I'm sure...but honestly,
there isn't an outfit out there that can slip past my guards
unnoticed...not even the best...we do call ourselves Predator for a
reason..." Fawkes folded his hands in his lap, idly blowing
smoke from his nostrils. "Best inform your friends back in
Central not to stick their noses where they don't belong...especially
that Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, he's going to get himself killed one
of these days you know..." A tap of the cigarette and a knowing
smirk.

Several
things inside twisted violently, but Havoc’s training held firm
-- no emotion passed over his face. But his hands clenched so hard
behind his back that blood rose to form little crescent marks.
"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes and I work in different sections of
the military, sir, even though we're technically in the same
battalion. We very rarely see each other, and only then when I'm
being briefed or debriefed.

"I
hope none of your men were injured in the supposed infiltrations?"
he inquired, more to be polite than anything else.

Maes,
you stupid, STUPID man, can't you just leave well enough alone?! This
guy would kill you in a heartbeat!

The
tension in the air did not go unnoticed to catlike instincts, and
Fawkes didn't bother to hide his grin. "Of course not,
Lieutenant...my men are still beyond the reach of any of your
intelligence officers..." He shifted the cigarette to the other
side of his mouth and stood. "Do give the good Colonel Mustang
my regards should you write him, and if you would, remind him that
his priorities lie in Central, not the Ishbar border...and that he
wouldn't want to repeat any past mistakes by poking around in foreign
affairs...I trust the investigation will be called off..."

Retrieving
his cloak from the hook near the 'door', Fawkes bowed his head
slightly to Havoc and donned the robe. "And you should be
careful too...I've caught wind that there's some pretty nasty rebels
in the area...nice meeting you, Lieutenant, and thank you for your
time..." With that, he stepped out of the tent and into the
Ishbar sun, squinting lightly before returning to his escort's side
to leave the encampment.

Havoc
followed the man, watching him leave their camp. His eyes narrowed.
"If we go to war, you're first on my list," he murmured.

Please
review, constructive criticism and questions appreciated, flames will
be deflected back at you by Roy. n.n;
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Unsettling Affairs