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A Little Light of Love	By : squallstorm Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 7987 -:- 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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Disclaimer:
I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist or its characters.....I'm just
playing with them.

Author's
note:

This
fic takes place 2 years after the movie; Ed and Al are on the hunt
for the Uranium bomb and are currently travailing through a
politically unstable Italy. As near as I figure it Ed's 20 and Al's
16. The year is 1925.

Thanks
to ZaKai for reading through this chapter and finding all my many
mistakes.

Chapter
5 – Version 2.0

The
cool desert air leeched the last of the lingering warmth from the
stones with alarming speed. The moon rode high in the obsidian sky
as the clouds drifted over its face. Roy was laying face down in the
coarse, rocky sand, the sharp edge of an especially large stone bit
into his palm painfully, but he didn't dare move lest the suspect in
front of him should hear. His robe bunched about his thighs and
fluttered with the night wind. He willed himself to resist shivering
with the chill.

The
suspect, whom he had started to call Shithead because he was so
annoying, was standing in the middle of nowhere; this,
consequentially, left Roy nowhere to hide. This was why Roy was
currently plastered to the desert floor with a billion sharp rocks
all trying to poke into his flesh and draw blood. The rough terrain
with outcroppings of rock all around allowed Roy to be partially
hidden from sight, and with the moon currently hidden behind a large
mass of clouds, Shithead wouldn't be able to see him unless he was
stepped on. Thank
God for small blessings,
Roy thought ruefully, wishing he could make the sign of the cross in
thanks.

Roy
had dove to the ground just moments before Shithead had turned around
to look behind him. Thankfully he hadn't noticed the slight scuffing
noise of his landing. The force of his impact had forced the stones
into his belly and legs making his eyes water freely.

Shithead
had been pacing back and forth for several minutes now, and Roy
wondered what the hell he was doing out here when he heard
approaching foot steps coming from directly opposite from his
position, from the desert. Hurry
up,
he commanded silently. It felt like each and every stone was drawing
blood, and all he wanted to do was check it.

Shithead
turned to face the sound. The new man came to a stop in the dark
shadow of a large out cropping of rock. Roy cursed silently to
himself, it was no good if he couldn't describe the buyer to
headquarters.

“You’re
late!” Shithead whined in Arabic, wringing his hands together
in a nervous gesture that Roy was also sick of.

“Hn,”
the buyer replied.

“Ah...ha
ha ha...forgive me; I was just...worried about you.” Roy could
almost hear the newcomer’s eyebrows rising in disbelieve, Roy
didn't buy Shithead's bad acting either.

“Do
you have the plans?” the buyer asked in a strangely accented
Arabic as he ignored Shithead's excuses. The voice was smooth and
refined, a voice used to ordering people around and having those
orders obeyed. Roy tried to place the accent but couldn't remember
if he had ever heard anything like it with the influence of Arabic
changing the way it sounded.

“Of
course I do...let me see the money.” Shithead was all business
now, Roy noted, all pretenses of servility gone. The buyer hoisted
up a briefcase and opened it facing Shithead. Shithead picked up a
bundle of bills and flipped through checking the bill's authenticity
before chucking the wad carelessly on top of the rest.

“This
will not be enough and before you even think it, I don't have the
plans with
me. The price has gone up by another ten. Nothing less is
acceptable for the seller and the other buyers are considering this
price very strongly.” Shithead was in his element now. Roy
could tell by his body language that he was confident that he would
be getting exactly what he wanted. It didn't matter to Shithead from
whom he got it and he skillfully used this to play on the buyer’s
desire to have it before someone else bought it out from under him.

This
talk about other buyers was a little disconcerting. When had
Shithead talked to anyone else? Could it be a ploy to milk more
money from the buyer? Had they missed something? Roy was sure that
Shithead hadn't talked with anyone other then to arrange this meeting
tonight.

The
lip of the briefcase slammed close breaking Roy out of his worries.
The buyer took his time re-locking the case as he seemed to consider
the demand. He took a hold of the handle and let the case swing back
to his side. He shifted his weight to rest fully on the side without
the case. Tilting his head back, he looked down on the smaller man
as he considered him.

“Fine.
We'll meet same time next month. I'll have your money ready by
then. Make sure you don't sell it to anyone but me. I'll be sure to
make it worth your time.” Shithead nodded and the buyer spun
around on his heal and left the way he came; the sound of his foot
steps fading into the desert night. Shithead watched him leave
before he too turned and walked back towards the city; striding right
past Roy and not even noticing him.

Roy
waited until he could no longer hear the crunch of Shithead's steps
before he allowed himself the sigh he had been holding. Carefully,
he pushed his way to his feet and inspected his hands. The
impressions the stones had made were quite deep; a few pricks of
blood oozed out of some of the gouges. Clicking his tongue, he
brushed of the sand from his robe; his body tingling as normal blood
flow resumed. Looking in the direction Shithead went, all Roy could
see was desert and the far city lights.

Roy
messaged his temples; this night had just gotten even longer.
Sighing again, Roy started walking back towards the city. So,
it was another month of this tedious waiting and following,
he mused. The other guys on his team, as well as himself, were
quickly burning out from exhaustion. He decided that when he sent in
his report this time he would request a relief team be sent in for
them. They needed a break.

Picking
up the pace, Roy broke into a light jog. Plus,
he thought.
It
would be good to get away from the team for a while.

The
other men under his command were beginning to suspect something was
wrong with him; he wouldn't go out with them any more when they had
rare moments of free time and he definitely
would not
go to any of the brothels with them. He would just act all cool and
collected whenever they teased him about it, but he knew that the
guys were glad he didn't go because he would have gotten all the best
girls due to his looks.

A
light sweat broke out on his face. The physical effort was a welcome
distraction from his confused sexual frustrations. He felt as though
something was going to break soon. He couldn't understand his newly
awaken libido. Why now? Why here? Whatever was causing it he was
sure that is was not something he wanted to have continue. He had to
remain in control no matter what!

The
moon emerged from behind the clouds bathing the night desert in it's
blue light. Roy could now see Shithead's distant form. Still
several miles ahead of him, Shithead had already made it to the
outskirts of town. Speeding up, Roy covered the distance quickly,
puffing loudly.

As
he approached the city edge, he slowed and scanned the darkness. A
man stepped out of the shadows and signaled; Roy signaled back.
Running over, Roy leaned on his knees to catching his breath.
Scrubbing his face with the arm of his robe, wiping the sweat from
his eyes he stood and looked at his partner.

“Roy...how'd
it go, man?” asked the man standing in front of him.

Heaving
once more Roy stood and faced his teammate. “We got another
month of this shit, Jimmy,” Roy stated blandly. He scrubbed
his face once more. Jimmy looked pained at the news. “So,
what happened to you? You were right behind me just before we left
the city?” inquired Roy.

“Yeah,
I know, but then I tripped and look what I did.” He pointed to
his arm and the torn sleeve of his robe which had a crude bandage
wrapped around it.

“Jesus!
What'd you do!” Roy exclaimed as he grabbed Jimmy's arm
lightly so he could inspect the dressing in the pale moonlight; Jimmy
was the best in his unit for field medicine. Blood had begun to soak
through the strips of cloth that was once Jimmy's sleeve. “Geez,
Jimmy.” Roy tisked his friends condition. “Well anyway,
you’re in no condition to continue. Go back and clean yourself
up properly. I'll finish following the Shi—err—the
suspect and make the report.”

Jimmy
nodded. “He went toward his house. Don't be too long or else
I'll send Tiny after you.”

“Don’t
worry, I won’t,” Roy assured the other man. Clasping his
friend’s shoulder as he passed in goodbye, Roy headed after the
suspect. Picking up the pace again, he jogged lightly, eating into
the lead Shithead had gained while he talked with his teammate.

Roy
turned down a side alley, taking a short cut in order to cut off the
mark by coming out in front of him. He leapt over a pile of refuse
and continued on with out breaking stride, sliding around the next
corner. Several more twists and turns down narrow and dirty alleys
brought Roy to his desired location. Hiding in the shadows between
buildings he scanned the street looking for Shithead’s ugly
face.

Several
minutes passed, and Roy was getting very worried that the guy wasn’t
headed this way when he finally saw him stroll down the opposite end
of the street. Roy pushed further back into the shadows as Shithead
approached his hiding spot.

The
man was being careless. Having just been at a secret meeting he
should have been taking an alternate route or not heading straight
back to his own home. This guy, however, was acting like he just
went out for a stroll. Well, hey, it worked in Roy’s favor.
It was lucky that Roy could predict this guy so well. The mark
passed him without so much as glancing to either side. When he was
well ahead of him, Roy slipped out of hiding and fell in behind him.

It
wasn’t long before the mark was at his home and Roy thanked the
fact that he would soon be headed back to their hideout and the
chance to sleep. The stress of the evening was dragging at him.
Shithead got as far as the front door and then stopped. Roy was
instantly alert. He ducked into a doorway and hid. The mark looked
around and then headed off in a new direction.

Shit,
Roy thought.
This is really not good! I don’t have time to tell anyone
that I need backup! I hope someone’s watching the house.
A long string of curses and expletives ran a constant stream in
Roy’s mind as he pushed himself off the door frame he was
leaning on and fell in behind Shithead’s odious body. Roy
glanced up at their lookout as he passed, but he couldn't make out
anything from this angle.

The
man was being more furtive now. Constantly looking over his shoulder
and pausing in alleys and doorways before moving on again. It was
testing all of Roy’s skills as a tracker to stay hidden and
undetected.

Although
slow, they were making their way towards an area of town reputed to
be seedy and virtually lawless. Roy checked his weapon to see if
everything was in order. His gun was loaded and ready, resting on
his left hip. He also checked to make sure his fall back weapon was
securely attached to his belt, although he hadn't had to use it for
many years now.

Shithead
ducked down another avenue, disappearing from sight quickly. Roy
panicked and rushed to the corner after him. He skidded to a halt,
creating a dust cloud at his feet. Shithead was standing behind five
large guys that were positioned in a semi-circle blocking the way
forward. Roy closed his eyes at his own stupidity. The laughter and
sounds of shuffling feet made him look at the scene before him again.
Five large Arabs were cracking their knuckles and leering at him as
they advanced towards him.

“So...uh...anyone
know where the bathroom is?” Roy asked in Arabic as he laughed
mechanically, trying to downplay the fact that he had been following
Shithead. The thugs just laughed louder, surrounding him on all
sides. “Hey, what is this? What’s going on?” Roy
laughed feebly. “Ah, so I guess talking about this is out of
the question...”

Shithead
was laughing louder then all the goons combined and Roy’s hate
for the man rose a few more notches. Slipping in to a low fighting
stance, Roy waited for their first move.

“Get
him!” Shithead ordered.

Roy
became very still. They only way to survive this would be to bunch
them up behind one another and take them that way. If they
surrounded him, he was sure to get injured or the worst case
scenario, he would lose.

Roy
dashed forward towards the guy on his right. The Arabs froze, not
prepared for his sudden movement. Roy smiled; the guy he chose as
his first victim was staring at him uncertainly. For the moment the
fact that the thug came here to beat up Roy was forgotten.

Not
giving the man a chance to recover, Roy put all his weight into an
upper-cut to his gut sending him back a step. Closing the distance,
Roy punched four more times in succession to his heart, pushing him
back towards the building wall. Out of the corner of his eye, Roy
saw the remaining flunkies recover from their shock and advance on
him. Grabbing the guy he was fighting by the shoulders, he spun him
around, putting his back to the building to block the others from
surrounding him again.

With
his hands still on his opponent’s shoulders, he kneed his ribs
twice knocking the wind out of him. The brute doubled over, gasping
in pain. The reaming opponents had sorted themselves out and were
moving to surround him once again. Roy pushed his opponent into two
guys coming up on his right side tangling them up as the crashed to
the ground amid curses and yelling; leaving only two left to deal
with for now.

These
two positioned themselves on either side of Roy.
While
Shithead yelled and cursed at those on the ground to hurry up.
The
bully on his left advanced first swinging with a slow left hook.
Blocking
it, he held on the arm as he punched the guy’s liver, the man
grunted and countered with another punch with his right hand, which
Roy caught.
The
other thug approached from the opposite side and Roy, while keeping
his grip on the first guy, kicked the second’s gut hard sending
him back for a moments reprieve.

Roy
re-focused on the guy in front of him. The goon broke free of Roy's
right hand and was throwing another left hook at his head, a little
faster this time, though still slow by Roy’s standards.
Catching that arm again, Roy had both arms in his possession.
The man looked up in surprise, Roy just grinned as he threw another
back kick into the bandit that had tried to sneak up on him from
behind directly into his gut yet again. The sneak fell back gasping
for breath that wouldn't come. Now he more time to fight the guy in
front of him.

Roy
kneed his opponent twice on each side of his body and followed as the
thug danced back, throwing the crown of his head into the man’s
face, breaking his nose. Releasing the man’s arms he cuffed
him up the side of the head sending him down for the moment; leaving
only one to fight.

This
man was more cautious after having seen Roy’s ability to fight.
His breath still came in sharp gasps and he held onto his stomach.
He circled around the alley and Roy, looking for an opening in Roy’s
guard. Roy turned with him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw
that the three thugs he had knocked down were sorting themselves out
and getting to their feet. The broken-nosed Arab was also getting
back to his feet. He looked really pissed off.

Roy
maneuvered the guy in front of him so that his back was to the other
four toughs and his own back was towards the alley’s mouth. He
planted his feet at the same time as his opponent. He advanced a
step making the thug step back. The four other goons were looking
quite grumpily at Roy.

Roy
smiled at them half-heartily, nodding at them. Then he turned and
dashed out the alley mouth, running back the way he had come.

“Ah!
After him! Don’t let him escape!” He heard Shithead
order the thugs as he sprinted down the avenue. Roy glanced back at
the alley mouth and saw all five guys come peeling around the corner
after him. Rounding the next corner, he jumped around the remains of
a vender’s stall. Once pass, he turned around and knocked it
over in the street and ran on.

Roy
heard someone get caught in the mess he created on the street,
glancing back he saw two guys tangled on the ground and the other
three stepped on the flailing men to get over the obstacle and the
chase continued.

Leading
them down another street, Roy began to become winded. He was getting
turned around and was no longer sure which way would lead him his
comrades or back to the area of the city he knew. He turned, left
and right, taking a winding route down several more streets trying to
confuse his pursers. Glancing back again, he could no longer see
them. He slowed and bent over double to catch his breath.
Stretching his back he looked behind him again only to see three of
the thugs skid to a halt, they had found him.

“Shit….”
Roy turned; ready to run away from the thugs.

“Not
so fast pretty boy.” An Arab stepped out from around the
corner at the other end of the street. Another stepped out from the
opposite side, making five again. They must have come around from a
different way in order to head him off. He was surrounded now, two
in front and three behind.

“Hey,
come on. That’s not fair. Fight like a man,” Roy
bargained in Arab. “Five against one is hardly sporting.”

“I
don’t think so,” said one of the Arabs in front of him,
laughing at him evilly.

Roy
bared his teeth at him in a poor imitation of a smile as his hand
drifted back slowly towards his belt. If he had to use that, then
there was no other choice. He hadn’t shown this to anyone
since his grandfather died back when he was eight; but a fight with
five to one odds, was a no win situation. He was good, but not THAT
good. Roy figured that he hadn’t even used it
since turning eight, although it was always with him. Roy touched
the rough surface of his belt and waited for the right moment.

“Yo,
Roy! You’re not starting the party without me are you?”
A booming voice echoed down to them from above in English. All eyes
looked up to see a large shape looming over the edge of the two story
building along side them, his face indistinguishable in the poor
light. The figure retreated from the edge, out of sight, only to
come back a moment later leaping to the ground, landing beside Roy.

“Idiot!”
Roy hissed, switching to English as well. “If any one of them
speaks English they now know my name!” He gestured angrily at
the thugs surrounding them and then at his team mate as the man stood
up along side of him.

“Oops…”
said Tiny as he shuffled his feet, not meeting Roy’s glare.

“Anyways…let’s
finish this quickly; this has been a long night.”

“Okay!”
said Tiny eagerly, hoping to please Roy.

“You
take those three; I’ll take them.” Roy pointed to his
guys. Tiny nodded his understanding and quickly took up his position
with his back to Roy. The Arabs, who had yet to make a move since
this new man had arrived, were looking like they had lost their taste
for fighting now that it would no longer be easy pickings.

The
three Tiny was facing had started to confer amongst themselves. Roy
could hear them debating whether they shouldn’t just leave
while they still had all their limbs intact. Roy couldn’t
blame them, Tiny was 6’9”, with arms the size of barrels,
a torso the size of a small truck and legs that a tree would be
envious of, with a mop of shocking red hair on the top of his
otherwise shaved head.

“Hey,
you guys had better watch it! This here is a man eater and he’s
hungry!” Roy called out in Arabic helping them loose their
taste for the fight. “Rub your tummy and pretend your hungry,”
Roy whispered to Tiny in English.

“Oh!
I’m so hungry! Can’t I eat them, please?” Tiny
whined in English as he rubbed his tummy and licked his lips loudly
in the direction of the men, catching on quickly.

The
Arabs facing Tiny murmured louder and backed away a few steps, making
signs with their hands to ward off evil. Roy grinned at his own two
Arabs. Their
eyes grew wide; the white orbs of their eyeballs, obscene in the
sheer amount of it that was showing.

“Don’t
let them return to their boss,” murmured Roy. “Our case
will be blown if they report to our suspect.” Tiny grunted his
understanding. They stood like that a moment more; the Arabs were
getting nervous. At an unspoken signal, Roy and Tiny sprang apart at
the same time, dashing at their respective opponents.

Roy
ran to the one nearest to him, dropping down on to his side to skid
long the ground, kicking the feet out from under the first Arab. The
brigand crashed to the side with a curse as Roy jumped to his feet
and ran towards the other one.

Too
fast for the man to react, Roy slipped inside his guard shoving a
palm into his face busting his lip. The man stumbled back in pain,
clutching at his face with a cry in denial. Roy turned back to face
the first Arab, who had just gotten back to his feet. Whipping out
his revolver he shot the man in the foot, blasting most of it away.
The man collapsed on his back howling in pain and holding his mangled
foot as the blood gushed between his fingers. Spinning on ball of
his foot, Roy faced the other man with the split lip, leveling the
gun at his head.

“AH!”
The man raised his arms in a universal sign of surrender. Roy
grunted his displeasure at the fight being over too soon.

“Here,
cuff yourself to him,” he commanded in Arab. He withdrew a
pair of metal cuffs from inside his sash at his waist and threw it in
the dirt between them, and indicated the man with half a foot. The
man nodded and shuffled across the ground towards his maimed
teammate.

“Like
using a gun was fair...this was a fist fight...” mumbled the
man sullenly as he clicked the cuffs closed. Roy could only smile.
Everyone knew that in war anything goes.

Once
the cuffs were secured, Roy, keeping the gun trained on them, walked
behind them so that he could see how Tiny was doing. Tiny was
standing over all three of his guys, grinning up at Roy like the
child he virtually was. The Arabs that Tiny had fought were knocked
out cold in a boneless heap at his feet. The man was ridiculously
strong and oft times he didn’t know when too much was too much.

“Good
job. Now tie them together, we got to get them off the street. We
need to have a talk with them.” He looked down at his own
prisoners below him. The Arab with the split lip was looking out of
the corner of his eye at Roy; he saw the glint in Roy’s eyes
and started to sweat.

Between
the two of them they were able to lug the Arabs into a nearby
warehouse that had seen better days. The Arabs were stuffed into a
dirty corner of the building, with Tiny standing guard over them.

Roy
sat on a nearby crate and regarded his new charges. They wouldn’t
meet his eyes, too preoccupied with Tiny’s looming presence
before them. Roy allowed himself a few more moments of contemplation
before he pushed himself off the crate and dusted his robe. He ran a
hand through his sweaty hair, pulling the damp strands off his
forehead so it could dry.

“Hey.”
He tapped Tiny on the arm, careful not to use his name or his rank.
“I need you to stay here and watch these guys. If they make a
noise, kill them. We need backup for this. Your orders are to make
sure no more harm comes to them unless they attempt to contact or
draw attention to themselves by calling out, in which case you’re
authorized to use deadly force.” Tiny nodded glad that he knew
that it was bad to salute Roy right now, he remembered how Roy had
yelled at him earlier.

Sighing
heavily, Roy walked outside once more. He took another precious
moment to think before he had to leave. He judged the time to be
somewhere around midnight. He had to get a move on otherwise
Shithead may start to look for his guys. He looked around for any
landmarks that he was familiar with in order to orientate himself.
He could just see the top of a prayer tower that was near Shithead's
house, which meant that he wasn't too far from their base.

Well
there was nothing for it, he would have to run. His limbs felt heavy
and slow, but he forced them to obey him and move faster. Soon the
distance remaining had shrunk and he allowed himself to slow, but he
couldn't stop, Tiny needed backup. He was okay for short periods of
time, but the longer he was left alone the greater the chance he
would do something stupid. The only reason he was here on this
mission was due to his sheer physical strength.

He
ran up the stairs leading to their room, he just hoped the guys were
in and not out gallivanting around the town. Throwing open the door
to the room he found the remaining members of MI-8 sitting at their
low table smoking and playing cards. They looked up, startled, at
Roy's abrupt arrival. Judging from the amount of smoke in the room
they had been playing for quite some time. The shutters had been
closed against the cold of the night and it prevented most of the
smoke's escape.

“What's
wrong?” said the smaller of the two card players, Aaron Cain.
He narrowed green his eyes at Roy, before flicking his cigarette butt
at the ash tray and then running his hand through his pale brown
hair.

“Roy,
I sent Tiny after you when we saw you leave with the suspect, did he
find you?” Jimmy asked, his arm now bandaged with clean
dressings, and resting in his lap.

Roy
didn't answer them either of them. He strode over to the lamp and
blew it out, plunging the room into darkness.

“Wha-”
Cain tried to ask, but Roy shushed him. Roy walked over to the
window and opened the shutter a crack and looked down on the
suspect's house. There were no lights on and no movement on the
street. Roy studied the area for several moments looking for any
suspicious movement. The smoke sneaked through the open window into
the night.

“Roy?”
Cain whispered in his raspy smoke roughen voice. “Talk to
us...sir.” The contempt he felt for Roy was unmistakable as he
addressed the man by the window. Cain always felt that he was
cheated out of commanding this mission because Roy had charmed their
commanding officers into giving it to him. It wasn't like he was fit
to command. The guy was just too manipulative.

Roy
didn't move from the window. “I was ambushed. Five Arabs were
ordered to rough me up. I'm not sure if the suspect knows about us
or he was just lucky, but Tiny and I caught the Arabs and they need
to be questioned. I don't know what happened to the suspect.”

“And
Tiny?” asked Cain.

“He's
with the Arabs. I need you to go with me and question them.”
Roy looked over his shoulder at Cain as he gave his order. The man
was constantly challenging his fitness and ability to lead this
mission. The constant bickering and power plays were taking a toll
on everyone. He wished, as he had done so many times before, that
Cain wasn't as good as he was at his job. “Jimmy, I want you
to watch for the suspect's return.”

“Okay,
but what if he comes back do you want me to do anything?” asked
Jimmy sliding on his floor mat away from the table.

“Not
like that you won't,” Roy ordered indicating his arm. Jimmy
nodded in acceptance. Cain had yet to move from the floor. “Is
there something else, Cain?”

“You
just left Tiny?” accused Cain, glaring at Roy from his position
on the floor.

“He'll
be alright as long as we don't dawdle.” Cain didn't seem to
like that answer but what could he say? Roy was right. He pushed
himself upright with deliberate slowness. Roy pursed his lips but
kept quite as Cain moved about the room to retrieve his pack. When
he was ready he stood by the door waiting for Roy to lead the way.
Clicking his tongue, Roy left the room letting Cain follow him. He
glanced at Jimmy as he passed, making Jimmy raise an eyebrow in
silent question, Roy shook his head. They'd talk later.

Down
on the street, Roy retraced his steps back to the warehouse. His
little brush with Cain about Tiny had set his blood pounding. Roy
and Cain were like oil and water, they didn't mix. Jimmy was always
playing peacemaker between them, but Cain was the best at
interrogation and Roy needed him. Roy walked slightly ahead of Cain,
not really wanting to be near him if it could be helped and Cain
obliged by falling back. Picking up the pace they soon came to the
warehouse. He grabbed the door handle and paused. Over his
shoulder, he directed Cain one last time before they walked in.

“Here
it is. Cover your face I don't want them to see you,” Roy
ordered in clipped tones. Even as his 'superior' officer Roy
couldn't help the contempt that crept into his voice. He mentally
slapped his forehead, he did it again. He could see Cain bristle at
the command and the tone of voice, but he knew his job well and could
find no fault in the command so he grudgingly complied.

Once
Cain's face was covered with his head scarf, Roy opened the door and
led the way to where Tiny was waiting for them. Cain followed a step
behind.

“We're
back,” Roy called out to Tiny warring him of his approach.

“Over
here,” Tiny called back, stepping out from behind the crate, a
pry bar in his hands. He grinned at Roy and then Cain. Roy stood
back to let Cain pass.

“Hey!
My friend has lost a lot of blood! I demand that you look after
him!” The Arab cuffed to the maimed man called out to Roy.
The other, now conscious Arabs murmured their agreement. The man
with half a foot looked up at Roy pleading for help with his eyes.
He didn't look too good. The color had drained from his face and Roy
recognized the onset of shock in his glazed eyes.

“I'm
not a medic. You'll have to tend to him yourself,” Roy told
them.

“No
need,” Cain growled in Arabic with his raspy voice. “When
I'm through with you...you'll wish you were dead.” All the
Arabs, including the maimed one shuffled back further into the
corner.

“Come
on.” Roy tapped Tiny on the arm and left Cain to his work.
Tiny followed Roy outside and they found an alcove across the street
where they could sit and relax until Cain was done.

Roy
let his head fall onto his knees and willed the stress to vanish.
Sighing, he shifted his head to the side and looked at Tiny, who had
his face in his hands and his elbows on his knees, watching a
scorpion walk across the road towards them. They sat in silence
waiting for Cain to complete his 'findings'.

They
were out there for sometime before Cain finally opened the door and
walked over towards them. He was wiping his hands on a rag to remove
the blood. Stopping in front of Roy, he continued to work the rag
around his hands silently. Neither one would be the first to speak.
Whenever something happened where Roy needed Cain's assistance, it
would be like this. There was always a battle whenever Roy dealt
with Cain.

Cain
worked the rag under his finger nails, not looking at either man
before him. Roy looked off into the distance, daydreaming as the sky
lightened. Tiny couldn't take it anymore. He had been looking back
and forth between the two men, hoping that this time someone would
speak up, but it didn't seem like this was the time. So he was the
one who broke the silence. “What'd they tell you, Cain?”

Cain
waited a few more moments before he looked up and over at Tiny.
“We're okay. The suspect doesn't know that we were watching
him all this time, he thinks you're working for the buyer,”
said Cain, smiling sardonically at Roy.

“Tiny
said my name, did they know it?” Roy asked.

“No.
None of them speak English and before you ask I made sure,”
Cain said annoyed, he knew that Roy would doubt him. Roy just shook
his head thinking. He stood up and pushed his way past Cain, who
pushed back but allowed him to past. Roy paced back and forth while
he thought of their next move.

Anticipating
Roy's line of thought, Cain said, “We could just kill them
all...”

Roy
stopped his pacing. He closed his eyes, hoping for another way.
Thankfully, he had his back to them as he didn't want to show Cain
any sort of weakness however small. “Are they expected back?”
Roy asked instead of agreeing with Cain's plan straight out.

“No,
they were paid to rough you up and give you a message for the
buyer—which I got the name of by the way—then they were
to disperse and never see the suspect again.” Roy digested the
news before he gave his order.

“Alright,
I want you two to head back and help Jimmy. I'll take care of things
here.” Roy turned around to see Cain looking quite put out.
“What is it?” demanded Roy.

“That's
for me to do. I wouldn't want your 'pretty boy' hands to get dirty,”
Cain said contemptuously. “Go. They're almost dead anyway.”
He left before Roy could reply to that. Just as his mouth started
to catch up to his brain and form a retort, Cain was inside. They
could hear the bolt sliding to and there was no room for argument.

“Let's
go Roy,” Tiny said. “Cain will be along soon.”

They
walked back at an easy pace, in no hurry to be back in that small
room. The sky was getting light now, dawn was fast approaching. Roy
guessed the time to be around 4:30, and the sunbirds had begun to
sing and greet the day. Not long after, Cain came trotting along
side Tiny. They hailed one another warmly. Roy looked around Tiny
to see Cain. Only a few flecks of blood could be seen on his robe;
he was a pro at this type of work.

“Well...”
Roy just couldn't help it, even when he tried to be nice it came out
wrong and demanding.

“It's
done and no one will find the bodies.” Cain rolled his eyes,
which started to push Roy's buttons. He gritted his teeth and walked
ahead of them. He had to get back, get a drink, and relax on the
roof; that always made him calm and then Jimmy would come and they
would joke and play cards until they fell asleep before their next
shift.

He
took the steps to their room two at a time and threw open the door
once more. He strode across the room and got a bottle of whiskey and
a pack of smokes. Jimmy, who was at the window, watched Roy retrieve
all his items and then leave again with out so much as a glance or a
hello to him.

Jimmy
knew what was bothering Roy and he only had to wait for five more
minutes before he walked through the door, laughing and horse playing
with Tiny.

“So,
everything okay now?” Jimmy asked.

“Yup!
I suppose Roy is on the roof.” Cain waited for Jimmy to nod,
he had that man pegged. The fact that he got so irritated with him
was a bonus. “Then I guess I'll be making the report.
Anything happen with the guy?” He pointed with his thumb out
the window.

“No,
he came home at 1:30 and hasn't left since,” Jimmy reported,
looking down at his notes on the still.

“Okay,
then I'm off.” Cain slapped Tiny's shoulder in passing and
Tiny mimed a punch to the gut. They both laughed and Cain waved bye
to Jimmy before leaving once more. Tiny lumbered over to his cot and
lay down closing his eyes. Soon, Tiny's breathing evened out.

Jimmy
looked back down at the house they were watching. There was no
movement from within and likely wouldn't be any until this evening.
Jimmy waited a few more moments before he got up to check on Roy.
The gash on his arm began to throb as he stood, his pain medicine was
wearing off. Jimmy walked to the corner of the room that was his and
rummaged in his med kit for the drugs; finding the bottle he was
searching for on the very bottom of the bag. Typical,
Jimmy thought ruefully to himself. He took out two pills and
swallowed them dry one after the other.

Coughing
quietly so he didn't disturb Tiny, Jimmy stood, stepping softly to
the door. Once outside in the hall Jimmy coughed a little louder as
he tried to dislodge the last pill that had stuck in the back of his
throat. He cradled his arm as he slowly climbed the stairs, every
now and then coughing easing the pill further down his throat. Jimmy
found Roy sitting in the shadow of the rooftop ledge, a cigarette in
one hand and the bottle in the other. He looked like he wanted to
get drunk, fast. It must have been a rough night.

Roy
looked at Jimmy from under the fringe of his bangs. He couldn't help
but like Jimmy, they got on so well. Jimmy's easy manner and ability
to make quick decisions in the field made him ideal to work with, but
for Roy there was something else. He could never quiet figure out
what is was about Jimmy that made him different from any of the other
soldiers he had worked with. It seemed it was meant to be a mystery
that he would never figure out.

Jimmy
walked over and sat next to him, their shoulders barely touching.
Roy handed over the liquor bottle and Jimmy took a long drought. Roy
watched intrigued as his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Okay,
Okay. Leave some for me, hey?” Roy grabbed the bottle back
and took another swig before staring across the roof to the city
beyond. Lifting his other hand, he took a long drag on his
cigarette, exhaling with a heavy sigh.

“I
was just getting that pill down, it was stuck in my throat,”
Jimmy explained after watching Roy critically. Roy grunted
noncommittally and pulled the cigarette away from his mouth and
tapped the end, knocking the ash into the air. After watching Roy a
moment more Jimmy reached over and took a cigarette from the pack
lying on the far side of Roy's body.

Roy's
pulse quickened as their bodies brushed. Color bloomed high on his
checks in embarrassment, to his complete horror. How the hell did
Jimmy make him feel these things? He was not some girl, so why was
he acting the part now? He took another drink to hide his reaction,
but in his flustered state he drank a bit too fast and it wouldn't go
down, making him choke on the hard liquor.

Jimmy
had to scramble out of the way as Roy doubled over in a coughing fit.
The bottle was snatched from Roy's hands and placed out of harms
way, along with the remains of his cigarette. Tears leaked out of
the corner of his eyes as he gave one final hack and swallowed hard.
Jimmy patted him on the back sympathetically as he laughed his guts
out at him.

“H-hey...”
Roy cleared his throat a few times before he trusted himself to try
again. “Here drink that and shut up!” He located the
liquor and thrust the bottle at Jimmy's chest.

Wiping
a few tears of mirth that leaked out of the corner of his eyes, Jimmy
took the bottle. “A-ahem...sorry...he—heh...”

“Don't,”
Roy warned, although he ruined the threat with a lop-sided grin
tugging his mouth up. Jimmy cleared his throat as well and tried to
take a drink but he was still smiling to hard to form a seal on the
bottle's neck. He had to look away before he could take a swig. Roy
pulled out a new cigarette and fished out his pocket lighter his mom
had given him before she'd run off with some guy after he turned
seventeen, and took a long pull. They sat in silence for several
moments, passing the bottle back and forth between them.

“So
are you gonna tell me what happened?” Jimmy finally asked. He
reached for Roy's cigarette pulling it out of his slack mouth and lit
his with the glowing tip. He took a few puffs on it before he handed
Roy's back to him. The roof top spun slightly. Man
that alcohol is working fast,
Jimmy thought.

“What's
there to say, it was a shitty night that just kept getting worse.”
Roy pulled on the cigarette, making the tip glow red, trying to calm
the strange mix of emotions that were demanding attention. He really
didn't want to think anymore right now.

“Hmm...well...ha
ha! You know, I just remembered, I took some pain medicine before
coming up here and you're not supposed to drink alcohol, otherwise it
reacts with the alcohol and makes you even more drunk. You may be
asking yourself, 'what the hell does that matter?' Well I'm feeling
it already. He he he. ”

“Tch.
Idiot, some field medic you turned out to be. Stop giggling!”
Roy snatched the bottle back.

“Ahha....I
can't heh ha ha!”

“Then
have another drink.” Roy handed the bottle back. A drunk
Jimmy was better anyway, he was more amusing that way. Jimmy happily
took the bottle and downed a quarter of the reaming liquid. Roy
rolled his eyes, but strangely a lot of his tension and worries
melted away leaving him tired and empty as he watched his friend get
piss drunk. It was amusing to be around Jimmy.

Jimmy
grabbed his shoulder and leaned around to look Roy in the face. His
eyes took some time to focus on Roy's amused face. “Shay,
Roy.... how'sityoudonhaveagirlyet?” Jimmy slurred his words
together.

“I-I...I
just haven't found the right one.” Roy grabbed the bottle back
and placed it on the ground away from Jimmy for the time being. In
doing so, he had to turn his head, which meant he didn't have to meet
Jimmy's blue eyes.

“Bhut,
you've had...shex, righ?” The only bad thing about Jimmy
getting drunk was that he got really insightful about Roy's personal
life. Even more so then when he was sober. Shocked, Roy pushed
Jimmy back, away from his face.

“Jimmy!
That's none of your business!” Jimmy landed on top of Roy's
thighs. He seemed to be made out of rubber because as soon as he
landed he was on his feet, standing over Roy. Jimmy's brow furrowed
as he thought about....what, Roy couldn't tell.

“Tha's
okay Roy....how...old are you anyway?” Jimmy asked. He took
his time forming the words so that he wouldn't slur.

“I'm
24, why? How old are you?” wondered Roy. He had always
figured Jimmy to be around 26-ish, but he wasn't sure.

“Tha's
a good age.” Jimmy nodded and then took a few steps towards
the middle of the roof. “Yup, you're okaaaay!” He gave
Roy a thumbs up and grinned, closing his eyes as he smiled. “Roy!
Ever look over the Nile in the morning?” Jimmy spun on the
ball of his foot, the other foot coming up perpendicular to the
ground, sending him off balance. Roy watched in horror as Jimmy
continued to tilt further and further towards the rooftop.

“Ooaf!”
He landed with a soft thud on his side, his back facing Roy.

“Jimmy?
You okay?” Roy was by his side in an instant. Jimmy hadn't
moved yet. “Jimmy...are... are you laughing!”

“Mgpft!”
Jimmy hunched his shoulders as he tried to remain still.

“Jimmy,
you ASS! I was worried about you!” Roy smacked him on the
shoulder, none to gently either. “Here.” He stood over
his teammate and held out a hand, “I'll help you since you're
so damn drunk.”

“Tha's
right! I'm sooooo damn drunk. Pffttt!” Jimmy grabbed Roy's
hand and Roy pulled him up as Jimmy pulled him down.

“Stop...Aghhh.”
The brief tug-of-war ended as Roy lost his footing and Jimmy
continued to pull him down towards him. Roy didn't even have time to
catch himself as he landed on top of Jimmy's chest with his forehead
crashing into Jimmy's cheek forcing the other man's head back into
the rooftop with a loud crack, leaving him dazed and blinking up at
the sky.

“Ah,
sorry, sorry. Are you alright?” asked Roy, worriedly. Jimmy
just blinked at him a few times. Roy couldn't help but notice how
their bodies were touching and the warmth of coming off of Jimmy's
body. He was ashamed, and sick to his stomach to feel his own body
react to that closeness.

“Roy...why
are you on top of me?” Jimmy finally asked, focusing on Roy's
face somewhat.

“Teh,
you put me here, remember?” replied Roy, fighting valiantly
against his blush. Their faces were pretty close, but he couldn't
move...he just couldn't.

“OH
yeah! ...Roy?” Jimmy raised his eyebrows at him.

“What?”
wondered Roy.

“I'm
going to sleep now,” stated Jimmy, his eyes sliding closed.
Roy stayed where he was a moment more, unsure. His mind had gone
strangely blank. He considered his teammate from this close range,
studying his face and features. Before he knew it, his face was
moving closer to Jimmy's. In horror, his body was moving on its own
and he seemed unable to stop himself, as he brushed Jimmy's chapped
lips with his own.

Jimmy
murmured into Roy's lips, shifting away from them. Horrified, Roy
scrambled off the sleeping form on the roof and stepped back. A hand
clamped hard over his mouth.

His
thoughts ran in confused circles. Back and forth. What the
hell
had just happened? He took a shaky step back from the sleeping body,
then another and another. He didn't want to admit it, he wouldn't!
He was normal! Normal! His grandfather had said so! It wasn't a
lie. He...he just had a bit to much to drink...and then the stress
of last night...it wasn't strange for someone—anyone—to
act bizarre under the circumstances. Right...?

He
knelt stiffly and groped behind him for the bottle. Lifting the
heavy frosted glass and finished of the reaming liquid in two large
gulps. He had to calm down or else...That
would
happen again. He took a unsteady breath, filling his lungs. He
released it slowly, willing...forcing the shock to dissipate. He'd
never let That
happen
again.

Military
discipline kicked in and made him asses the situation. His
irrational fears fading in the light of making plans and strategies.
First he had to get Jimmy out of the sun and down stairs and
then...then, he had to think. He could go to the temple. It wasn't
a Christian church, but it would have to do. He was sure God
wouldn't mind that much.

Having
a plan of action made him feel better. Letting the bottle fall to
the ground, Roy hauled Jimmy onto his shoulders, head on one side and
legs dangling on the other, he made his way back inside and down to
their room. He laid Jimmy on his messy cot on the floor, positioning
him on his side in case he got sick in his sleep. Tiny was snoring
away on the other side of the room, blissfully unaware while asleep,
and Cain, thankfully, was nowhere to be found.

Roy
searched the room for some scrap of paper and a pencil. Finding
nothing he could use he took one of the playing cards and wrote a
hasty note explaining where he could be found if anything happened.

He
took one last look and Jimmy's sleeping from before he turned and
quietly opened the door and left the apartment. This
had to be the longest FUCKING day in existence,
Roy thought. Please
let nothing else strange happen to me,
he prayed. He looked up into the sky and sent a heartfelt prayer to
the big guy for some guidance or maybe an angel. That'd be cool. He
didn't really believe in that nonsense though, but it made for a
pleasant fantasy as he trekked though the street on his way to the
temple.

--
To be continued --
- 4
- 5
- 6
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A Little Light of Love