Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

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
- 7
- 8
- 9
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!

Piss
Fucking Drunk

Rating:
PG-13/R (For language, mostly)
Pairings: GreedxMartel(one
sided in a way), KimbleyxMartel (Piss fucking drunk)
Disclaimer:
I don't own FMA.
Spoilers: None.
Setting: Devil's
Nest.
Timeline: Not long after Ed went splodey.

There was
the typical shuffling of boots, tapping down the staircase, and an
exhausted huff and somewhat annoyed grunt when he was offered a
drink. That meant the usual. Kimbley took off his jacket and tossed
it over the arm of one of the couches. Typical, Greed was nowhere to
be found. Probably out with his girls again...that was his type, Zo
supposed.

Narcisse
had been dressed in his usual casual button up denim shirt, his eyes
had been half lidded when he entered the area, his hair was neatly
placed to his face, though he had wondered about the area, he had
been nerves. His reputation wasn't high at all, he was just one of
those people who did things at their own will, and this time his will
took him here.

"Oi
Gree-oh..." Kim noticed the newcomer. "Welcome to the
Devil's Nest, what's yer poison, kid?" He grinned, snatching the
glass of whiskey from the barkeep before it even hit the bar, his
other hand grabbing the man by his shirt. "Treat our guest on
the house. I won't be responsible if Greed comes back and there's a
huge fuckin hole in the back wall and you're nowhere to be found."
The grin widened chaotically as he let the trembling barkeep go.
"Pull up a chair, have a seat, what're you in for? You look like
the type, so I'd have to ask, what do you use?"

"I
don't drink," The boy said quietly to the other man's response,
his eyes were still down a little, he didn't seem too social or
happy, but more of the type that were trapped inside their heads,
searching for answers. Though he did raise his eyes a little to watch
Kimbley bother the bar tender, and as soon as he let him go he
cautiously went to Kimbley's side and sat down, "Multiple
murders for their riches, and sharp objects."

"I
bet if you asked Tucker you could get yourself fused with somethin
with claws and fangs, eh? And speed, but I don't care much for all
those chimeras anyway...that dog boy isn't so bad though, kinda like
him a bit, but the girls annoy me to no end." Funny, Kimbley
didn't tend to talk that much to strangers unless he was going to
blow them up... He took a sip from his drink. "Ahh...say,
kid...you like fireworks?" That was more like it.

Narcisse
listened to Kimbley, having no clue on what he was talking about,
someone named Tucker and a few mentioned things with drugs. He turned
a little, placing his right palm to his cheek to watch the other, "I
suppose I do.."

"Check
this..." The Crimson Alchemist finished his drink and grinned,
holding the glass in his palm as it started to change just slightly
in color. He then tossed the glass up, as it was no longer glass at
all, and as it reached the height of its arc, the once glass now bomb
exploded in midair. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Narcisse
watched the glass get tossed in the air, he noticed the small change
of color and was expecting it to fall back down to the ground and
shatter, but instead it exploded and made him jump a little, he
looked to Kimbley, his face paled, "Y-yes it is."

Kimbley
chuckled and held out his hands, showing off the alchemy arrays
permanently tattooed onto his palms. "I used to be called the
Crimson Alchemist...do you know why?"

The boy
leaned in a little to hand, he blinked slightly and glanced up to
Kimbley's face, "No, sir, I apologize.. I don't.. will you tell
me why?"

Kim
smirked, eyes glittering in a way one should really be afraid to see.
He lifted his hands to the ceiling, almost as though reaching for it,
and threw back his head in laughter for a second before shaking his
head and dropping his arms back down, hands draped over his thighs.
"Back in the war...they sent out us Alchemists to finish the job
quick. I finished it alright, heh...Really though, who cares who dies
if there's a lovely explosion! I killed them all, they had me court
martialled and placed under arrest to die, but I never died, I got
out. That's why I'm here, kid, because I killed enemy and ally alike
in that war, and goddammit it was fuckin awesome!"

Narcisse
smiled a little, the other was the opposite of him, loud and very
energetic, as for himself he was quiet and hidden. He was taken by
Kimbley's story so he turned his body so he could face the other a
little more, "Did they scream? Or was there no time?"

"I
can still hear the screams, those pathetic little mongrels begging
for me to spare their lives, the agony as I blew them apart with
their own family members, and that one guy...the one I gave that scar
to, still surprised he lived after I blew off his arm, but Ishbarites
are greasy little rodents after all...that one was my masterpiece,
that guy they call Scar!" Kimbley grinned, tracing an x pattern
over his forehead, the tips crossing down over his eyes. "Just
like that, the scar that gave him his name, I gave to him."

"As
long as you thought it was awesome," The boy lowered his smile a
little, leaving out the strong language the other had use, it just
wasn't his type or place to use it. Though he had wondered about this
Scar.

The
ponytailed Crimson Alchemist leaned over the bar, reaching back to
grab a dusty deep red bottle from the shelf, wiping the dust off the
bottle, then off his hands, then off his pants, Kimbley leaned
against the bar and read the label, as the boy seemed to have drifted
into thought.

Gold eyes
trailed along the list of ingredients, the date, the maker, the name.
Mostly to see if Greed would get pissed at him for a) drinking all of
it or b) using it as a bomb.

With a
slightly bored sigh, Kimbley pulled out the cork from the bottle, not
even bothering to pour himself a glass and just doing the one thing
your mother always tells you not to do, drink from the container.

Pausing
in mid-drink, the Crimson Alchemist quirked a brow at the kid, and of
course did what he always did the first time he met someone...that
is...size up how good of a bomb they'd make. Gold eyes surveyed this
person carefully, fair size...nice build...probably had a good even
amount of ingredients...if anything he'd just have to force a few
drinks down the kid to even out the contents. Kimbley continued his
drink.

Getting a
bit tired of the moping in silence, Kimbley set down the bottle he'd
been drinking from, irritated at having been interrupted by something
so trivial, but at the same time excited, considering this person was
about to become a good little show of fireworks outside. Walking
towards the door, he grabbed the boy by the arm, dragging him after,
as it wasn't long before said human was now said human time bomb.
Snatching up the bottle he'd set down, he threw the kid out the door,
smirking as the night was lit up by a brilliant explosion, which just
so happened to catch a few innocent bystanders in its wake as well.
Good times, Kimbley chuckled to himself and took another drink,
watching with a satisfied smirk his handiwork.

Martel
stood near the back of the bar, having just emerged from her
quarters. Narrowing her eyes at the sight of Kimbley's smirk, she
started to step forward. That smirk was never a good thing. Her gait
sped up a little, and then abruptly stopped as she saw the flicker of
light and heard the thunder of an explosion outside. Her eyes widened
in momentary shock, and then frowned at the man. "God dammit,
Kimbley, not again!" she hissed, frustrated. The man irritated
her enough, but... this was too much. It practically screamed, 'Look
over here, look over here! It's a hideout for criminals, come quick!'
on...the kid was a nuisance...and besides...it's not like it isn't
obvious we're here anyway, just look at those friends of yours,
they're a dead giveaway." Gold eyes seemed to look down on
Martel slightly, smirk fading into just that degrading little grin of
his.

Dull
green eyes remained narrowed, looking up at him with one hand on her
hip. "And like blowing up random bystanders isn't?" the
chimera drawled back in equal contempt.

"We're
even." The Crimson Alchemist turned away from the doorway,
heading back to the seat he'd taken at the bar, bottle in hand, grin
still set. My was it fun to irritate the snake.

"Hn."
Martel frowned, peeking out the doorway once more to examine the
damage, holding onto the door. She sighed when she pulled away her
fingers, noting the blood that had been splattered on the entrance.
She wiped it on her pants. "Messy, as usual. Why am I not
surprised?" she scoffed.

Kimbley
shrugged it off, pushing up his sleeves. He had a feeling this was
going to be a rather long night...

"Greed
helps us out a lot; the least you could do is keep this place clean
for him," she said, ducking behind the bar and pulling out a
towel. Martel wiped away the blood from the door, and then tossed the
crimson towel at, coincidentally, the Crimson Alchemist. "I'm
not your mommy, next time clean your own mess up."

"I
don't do clean..." One hand raised to catch the towel, and
perhaps it was noted the glint in his eyes as he tossed it back.

She
caught the towel, and snaked her arm across the room to press the
dirty cloth into his face. Martel was unafraid of Kimbley, despite
his constant irritation of her. If he ever hurt her, he'd have Law
and Dorochet after his hide, perhaps even Greed, but who knew with
him? "Don't be such a spoiled brat."

"Tch...maybe
you should stop being such an uptight halfling..." Quite fun
indeed...Kimbley slung the rag over the bar, getting back to his
drink.

Martel
twitched, if you looked close enough. She stepped towards the bar,
slamming her palm down onto the wood and glaring at him. "Maybe
if I didn't have to deal with such immature assholes, I wouldn't be
uptight."

Kimbley's
grin broadened. "Maybe if you'd get that whole Greed-obsessed
stick out of your ass, you mean."

Martel
seemed startled for a moment, a faint flush darting across her
cheeks. "Wh-" she began, before scowling deeply and cuffing
the alchemist hard on the back of the head, enough to make his head
meet the wood of the bar. "You little creep!" she snapped.

"Che...You
act like it's not obvious or something." The alchemist grinned
slightly still, rubbing his forehead slightly.

"What
do you know anyway?" she snapped, not really asking, more just
wanting to yell at Kimbley. Martel scowled, going behind the bar and
drawing forth a bottle, pouring it into a glass and dropping ice in.
Her eyes remained narrowed, and her full, luscious lips remained set
in a frown. She leaned forward and rested an elbow on the bar,
sipping from the glass. "It's not like you give anything back.
Isn't that what you alchemists are supposed to be all about,
equivalent trade? Greed helps you, you don't give anything back. I'm
not obsessed. You're just a jerk."

"I'm
hurt, really..." Cynical bastard that he was, Kimbley pushed it
to the edge. "But you're just uptight because you don't want him
to know and the rest of us could care less, especially me." He
took another drink from the bottle, luckily he'd saved that from
Martel's PMSing. "You're too obvious, I thought snakes were
supposed to be more subtle, guess I was wrong..." Push, prod,
snag.

Ooh, he
was being more annoying than usual today. In a moment, the dagger had
leapt from its sheath, and the snake chimera had swung it towards his
neck. She didn't break the skin, but she had set down her glass.
Martel raised a brow. "If you've forgotten, snakes are also
easily vexed. Don't push your luck." Dorochet and Law cared
about her, she knew they did. When Kimbley said they didn't, it
didn't bother her, because she knew he was just playing with her. And
when he said he didn't care, well, that just made her life easier. It
was only if he mentioned Greed... that might make her a little
nervous, as she could never quite figure out just what the homunculus
was thinking.

A little
here, a little there...venom could be toxic but only if the snake
were to bite. "Saaa...I'd think he'd be disappointed in you for
flying off the handle so easy though, ya know..." Gold eyes
opened to glint almost darkly at Martel from the corners as that
smirk slowly etched back on his face. "He pretends not to
notice, but he knows..." The Crimson Alchemist slipped out of
Martel's reach, at least, current reach, stalking towards the back
door. "Maybe you should think about just talking to him or
something, at least it'd get him off my back for a while." One
hand rose in a half-hearted wave of nonchalance over his shoulder, as
Kimbley disappeared through the back door as it shut, grin falling
away to a slightly irritated and tired look, which followed him to
his room.

Upstairs
the faint sound could be heard of a small explosion, which signaled
Kimbley turning out the lights.

Martel
blinked, startled for a moment, and then growled after Kimbley left,
hurling the knife against the door he'd exited from. God, that man
bothered her. She really didn't see why Greed kept him around. What a
nuisance.

She
sighed, picking up the glass she had been drinking from, then reached
for the bottle. She hesitated, remembering Kimbley had been drinking
from it. She didn't mind people doing it typically, and did it
herself on several occasions, but she couldn't stand when Kimbley did
it. Or anything else he did for that matter. Resigning to a different
bottle, she moved her way over to the couch. The chimera dropped down
onto it, kicking her booted feet up onto the table and finishing off
the glass with a thought. Just what did Kimbley mean by 'getting
Greed off his back'? Martel decided not to think on it too much. Now
that the alchemist wasn't around, it was easier to hear herself
think, and she decided it wasn't a wise decision to think about what
he had said too much. She'd be playing right into his web. She should
have been in power here, not him. She knew Greed better (at least as
far as she knew), and she wasn't a pyromaniac freak. The serpentine
woman sighed. Well... she wasn't a pyromaniac at least. Being a
freak, well, she couldn't exactly deny that one. She ran a hand over
her blonde hair to tuck the bang back. It only fell down into her
face again. Martel leaned her head against the back of the couch,
closing her eyes and losing herself to thought. She didn't feel like
bed just yet.

The
dagger sat still in the wood of the door, untouched.

En-..er...'Greed'
slipped in unnoticed, making his way across the room to lounge rather
luxuriously on one of the leather couches, propping his feet up on
the coffee table in front of himself and letting his arms drape over
the back of the couch, much like if there were people occupying the
couch to either side of him. A little grungy, but overall not such a
bad place he's got here... Envy thought to himself, inwardly grinning
at how easy it was to find this place. That lunatic of an alchemist
had all but laid down the red carpet, and in Greed's absence, there
was an open opportunity to wreak some real havoc. Actually, Havoc
would be later, as Envy currently resided in the form of someone he
truly hated, Greed himself. He relaxed, feigning sleep in case anyone
were to walk in, so that he wouldn't be bogged with questions.

Martel
had not left her place at the opposite couch, but she had dozed off a
little. At the sound of 'Greed''s boots hitting the table, she
stirred a little, and lifted her head. Blinking her dull green eyes,
she looked over at the homunculus. "Oh, Greed. I didn't think
you'd be back this early," the chimera admitted as she sat
upright. "Dorochet said he thought you were coming back tomorrow
afternoon."

Greed
waved a hand nonchalantly, grin on his face. "Took a little
shortcut." It was simple as that.

The
chimera smirked a little. "Notice the little present Kimbley
left at the door?"

The
Homunculus pushed up his sunglasses with an indifferent yet somewhat
amused grin. "He wasn't too much trouble, I hope..." Violet
eyes glanced at Martel over the rims of black sunglasses, as Greed
tilted his head.

"He
was just... usual Kimbley," the chimera sighed, shaking her
head. She scratched a hand over her feathered blonde hair and reached
her arms up in a stretch. "He's always trouble. Why do you still
keep him around? We can't trust him at all. I mean, honestly, if he
grabs random bar goers, blows them up in the street, isn't that a
little more conspicuous than we want?"

"Would
you rather him be against us?" It was more of a rhetorical
question, and Envy knew that having that psycho of a teammate, albeit
fun, would be utterly dangerous if he was on the wrong side, or even
on the right side for that matter, he was just dangerous. But knowing
Greed, the selfish Homunculus would rather have Kimbley in his grasp,
at least a Homunculus could be a match for that lunatic Alchemist.

"Frankly,
I'd rather not have him at all." Martel frowned, putting a hand
to her forehead, closing her eyes. "I can't stand him Greed, you
know that."

"He's
a better ally than an enemy, though...and really, despite the
benefits of having your head blown off every once in a while, it's
not doing much for my fan club." Greed smirked, shrugging. "Have
a seat?" Tattooed hand motioned at the empty cushion next to
him.

The
blonde chimera nodded, walking over to the bar. "Yeah, hang on a
minute." Martel grabbed a bottle, and two glasses, setting them
down on the table and taking a seat beside him. She poured a glass,
handed it to him, then took her own. "He's absolutely loathed by
the other alchemists." She paused, then corrected herself. "He's
absolutely loathed by everyone." She was careful not to lean
back at the moment, as she knew Greed's arm was still around the back
of the couch, and she didn't want to seem to get too comfortable
against it. So instead, she rested her forearms on her knees, sipping
at the glass.

Greed
took the glass and tilted it one way then the other, watching the ice
swirl around in the liquid, listening to the sound of ice against the
glass when it hit. He took note the way Martel was a bit reluctant to
get comfortable, and Envy could only imagine why...but couldn't
exactly imagine why Greed of all people...he wasn't even cute!

Martel
prodded at the ice in the glass idly, frowning. Again, another
awkward moment. She couldn't stand them. It was all right if it was
when Greed was discussing a battle plan, and she was his subordinate,
but when they were comrades like this... it was downright
uncomfortable. Okay, this was going to stop. Now. She glanced over
her shoulder at him, smirking a little. "So, did you end up
picking anything up for yourself while you were out?"

"Nn?
Aa...there wasn't much to be seen, place was in ruins! But I did
manage to salvage this.." Greed leaned forward a bit, setting
his drink on the table, still untouched, and rummaged in one of his
pockets, before pulling out a chain with an emerald green crystal
pendant attached to it. "It's not really my style, ya know?"
He held it up so the pendant dangled next to Martel's face, and
grinned. "Matches your eyes."

The
serpentine soldier glanced over at him after a moment, and it wasn't
hard to see the blush across her face. Not in front of Greed,
dammit... She rolled her eyes in a quick cover-up, replying,
"Prostitutes leave around two AM, Greed, and it's nearly four.
Check your watch." But the sarcasm was affectionate, teasing.

"What?
I was being serious!" The grin would've said otherwise though,
then again, wasn't he almost always wearing it? "Hey if you
don't want it I can just let Kimbley use it as another bomb..."
Violet eyes looked at the ceiling in a way of teasingly sarcastic
contemplation.

Martel
rolled her eyes again, amused this time. She smirked, and reached
back, grabbing it from his hand. The chimera held it up in front of
her, and surveyed it a minute. "I could get a pretty penny for
it in a pawn shop. Tell Kimbley he should find better things to do
than blow up stuff we could use for money," she mused with a
fond smirk.

"Money's
not even a problem and you know that, Martel..." Greed smirked,
leaning back again and taking his drink with him. He sipped the
liquid a bit, rolling the taste over his tongue as he draped the
other arm over the back of the couch again. For once, Envy was at a
loss of what to say in a situation like this.

"I'm
not depending on you for everything, Greed," Martel said
stubbornly. "You give us enough. I should at least try to help
out." It was something she mulled over often. How could Greed,
someone who wanted everything to himself, be so... giving? Was she
greedy instead, for wanting to stay? Perhaps she tried to convince
herself otherwise by returning the pay, like the equivalent trade Al
spoke of so often.

Greed
chuckled slightly at that, moving forward again to set his drink down
once more on the table, other arm casually draping over Martel's
shoulders. "You're even less relaxed than usual, you don't have
to always be at attention..."

Again,
the chimera felt her face growing hot, and she scowled, again trying
to mask it by looking forward and away from him. An excuse was hard
to come up with this time. "Well, anything can happen," she
replied, almost lame in its transparency.

Greed
chuckled slightly. "Take my drink, you need to loosen up, and
nothing helps that like alcohol!" He'd picked up his glass,
holding it out to her with his free hand, other arm still draped
casually over Martel's shoulders, grin in place.

She
paused, and then shrugged, sighing. Well... what harm could it do,
really? It's not like he was trying to mess with her or anything...
Martel trusted Greed. He wouldn't do that to her. She reached back
and took it, swirling the glass around before taking a sip. Oh well.
She did need to loosen up anyway...

"Aaahh..."
Greed grinned approvingly and leaned back again, violet eyes darting
to the bar's only other occupant for a quick glance over his shoulder
before returning to the ceiling, then closing. Even Envy knew that
Greed had to be careful about who he let stay, after all, he was a
Homunculus...harboring a bunch of escaped chimera...one convicted
psychotic alchemist...and who knows what other types...

"He'll
leave soon enough," Martel muttered quietly, catching Greed's
glance at the newcomer. It was rare that people came in here; most
knew it was a bad place to hang around. If he became suspicious...
well, she'd arrange to have him leave, albeit not in a way Kimbley
would like, but a more subtle one. But that wasn't the foremost
subject on her mind right now.

Martel
sighed, running a hand over her spiky hair again. She'd gotten used
to Greed's arm around her shoulder by now. Whether that was from the
glasses of alcohol she'd drank already, or from the period of time he
had been there, she didn't know yet. But at least it didn't bother
her. She sipped again, halfway through the glass already. A very
faint blush was on her cheeks, near the lines of the red tattoo. It
gave her pale, feminine skin just the slightest touch of color,
courtesy of the liquor. After a few moments of silence and the third
glass (and this was no light alcohol, mind you), she'd mellowed out a
little, thankfully.

For a
moment, Greed opened his eyes and grinned thoughtfully to himself,
and then he moved to get more comfortable. It just so happened that
more comfortable was his feet propped up on the arm of the couch,
hands behind his head, using Martel's leg as a pillow. Comfy, he
closed his eyes again.

The
chimera blinked, and this time she consciously blushed. But instead
of scowling, she smiled a little and nudged him. "Neh...
Greed... always have to take the most space on the couch."

"It's
my couch isn't it?" Violet eyes looked up at Martel, grin still
on Greed's face.

"Well,
you're sharing it with me, and so now it's not yours," Martel
said with a smirk. She shrugged her bare, tattooed shoulders
nonchalantly. "I've commandeered it."

"Well
then I claim it back as mine under the notion that you're not fit to
rule it in your current state." Greed smirked, still looking up
at her.

"Of
course I can!" she objected, pouting. Only when she was drunk
would Martel pout. Being drunk and around Greed was an added plus.
"I'm perfectly fit to rule this couch."

The
Homunculus chuckled. "You could always stretch out too if you
wanted, it would only need a little more rearranging." Greed
stated matter of factly, but it wouldn't be hard to spot ulterior
motive there.

The
chimera paused, and then laughed softly, waving a hand. "Maah,
move over then. I'm too tired to go to the other couch."

"Saaa....maybe
I could just try something else instead.." That being said,
Greed rolled over off the couch, managing to end up on his feet,
standing. Hands were braced against the back of the couch on either
side of Martel's head as he leaned forward, proximity almost
uncomfortably close, at least it would be under really any other
given circumstance.

Martel
blinked, Greed's closeness almost startling. Her breath whispered
softly through her pursed full lips, and her pale cheeks were dusted
with rose color. "G-Greed..." she whispered, her emerald
eyes slightly widened and watching him. So close... he looked even
more attractive. She wanted to touch him... She lifted her hand,
brushing it against his cheek and then cupping the side of his face.
Her verdant eyes were on him all the while, going from shocked to
fascinated slowly in her hazy, drunken state. Of course, she had no
idea that while this skin felt like his, those eyes looked like
his... it wasn't him.

"Shhh..."
The Homunculus grinned, moving one hand to lightly touch the side of
Martel's face, closer...

The back
door opened suddenly as Kimbley strolled through with a slight yawn,
oblivious at first to what was going on, his eyes focused on the
bar's unfamiliar occupant. "Not again..."

It was
then that Kimbley noticed Greed and Martel, and stared for a moment
with the random bar goer's wrist grasped firmly in one hand.

Added
up...there was something wrong with this
picture...Martel...Greed...Martel...Gree position...no
rings...wait...No RINGS! "Yo, Greed! What's the part of
your body I enjoy blowing up the most?"

Martel's
eyes had fluttered closed, her fingers shaking lightly against
'Greed''s cheeks. She took in a soft gasp, her lips still pursed...
he was so close, she could feel the warmth from his body radiating
against her face. God, what she'd been longing for for so long... was
this it? But that moment, that wonderful, glorious moment had been
interrupted. Not just a mild sound in the corner of the room
interrupting it, no. Zolof J. Kimbley, yelling a completely useless
question when Greed was barely an inch away from her interrupting it.
Martel blushed fervently at being seen in this intimate moment by the
person she hated most, and so rudely. Angrily, she started to hiss,
"Kimbley, what are you talking about?"

"Is
that supposed to be a trick question, Kimbley?" 'Greed' pushed
off the couch, standing in between the coffee table and Martel, as
violet eyes turned to Kimbley. "Usually it's my entire body,
that way you don't have to bother sectioning off..." Hands on
his hips, 'Greed' seemed a bit miffed at Kimbley's entrance. Envy on
the other hand was thinking of a backup plan.

The
psychotic grin on Kimbley's face widened considerably as a jolt of
energy surged through the civilian's body. The fuse was set and the
fire was in his eyes. "Wrong answer...now why don't you show
your own face!" The Crimson Alchemist didn't even give a warning
before shoving the time bomb of a human body to 'Greed' as it would
be, hands working already on a second bomb as he flipped over the
bar, reaching for the potent ingredients for a nice Molotov cocktail.
"Might want to get out of the way, snake..."

'Greed'
moved aside with a different kind of speed and grace than usual, the
swing of a leg sending the volatile body across the room, where it
detonated, taking out several tables and chairs, as well as a section
of floor. In the same instant, a light surrounded 'Greed' and no
longer was he Greed, but now Envy stood there atop the coffee table,
hands on his hips and a miffed look on his face. "Oi oi....why'd
you have to go and do that? You ruined my fun...what a little
nuisance you are." A smirk placed itself upon his face and
violet eyes narrowed mischievously at Kimbley.

"That's
what I thought...Envy was it? With the other Homunculus huh? Greed's
not here...so you might as well beat it before I really wake up and
decide to make a mess..." Two liquor bottles were being twirled
in Kimbley's hands, just waiting for the signal, though he did hope
he didn't have to waste good spirits.

Martel
stumbled against the opposite wall in all the confusion, leaping from
the couch. Where was Greed? ...No... Greed was never here... it was
Envy... Envy, all that time... that blissful, heavenly dream... it
was just that. A dream. A game, for Envy. Her eyes burned with fury,
and for once, she was happy Kimbley was trying to blow someone up
inside. Darting her snake arm across the room, she yanked the dagger
from its place in the door. Hissing her breaths in and out, she shook
with wrath, growling, "You... bastard..."

"Saaaaaa..."
Envy pushed his hair out of his face in what was more of a showy
gesture than one of actual importance. "By the way, 'splodey,
thanks for showing me the way, but I'll just be going now! After all,
it would be a shame for you to blow up the whole place, it's actually
not half bad, in fact, I was getting used to it even!" He
laughed, nimbly leaping over Martel and the couch, and making a swift
exit, door slamming shut just in time to prevent Martel's knife from
embedding itself into his skull.

Kimbley
pouted a bit, then scowled at himself, putting the bottles back. He
then turned to Martel and made his way around the bar and right up to
her, pushing her back down on the couch. "Just how much have you
had to drink anyway not to be able to notice that he wasn't really
Greed! Or did your little obsession cloud your mind so much you
didn't care!"

"Shut
the hell up!!" Martel screamed, standing swiftly and shoving at
his shoulders. The chimera could feel hot tears building up behind
her eyes, and she knew they'd fall, but she knew she couldn't stop
them. She needed to yell at someone, anyone. She didn't even have a
comeback for Kimbley. She wasn't even angry with him for a change.
She was just angry. And hurt. A bead of warm water rolled from her
lashes, slithering down her cheek in shame, in frustration, in
sorrow. She felt her throat getting tight, and not even registering
her words, only the feeling of the volume of her voice, she yelled,
"You don't know anything you're talking about!"

"Che,
get a hold of yourself! Since when do you cry not to mention in front
of me!" Kimbley did the only thing he could think of to do,
well, besides blow something up of course, and backhanded Martel hard
across the face before he even realized he was doing it. He
immediately felt just the slightest bit guilty, but, being himself,
there was no way he was going to show that in front of her of all
people. "You did what anybody in your position would've done!
That disguise of his is completely flawless, not to mention you were
drunk!"

Martel
let out a small cry of surprise (but a little pain) as his knuckles
met her jaw, her head jerking with the movement. Her lips pursed
again, and her cheek was red, but not from intimacy this time. She
was slightly startled, and things seemed to make a little sense now.
Envy had tricked her. She was drunk. But that didn't make her feel
better one bit. She swallowed, looking down at the ground, her head
tilted away from the alchemist and holding her reddish cheek.

....

Wait. Was
the alchemist showing concern for her?

Secretly,
Kimbley flexed his hand to relieve the pain in his fingers. God
either he was getting soft or Martel just had a really REALLY hard
bone structure... "Feh....look...Greed'll be back tomorrow, you
can talk to him then, for real this time..." The ponytailed
alchemist turned his back to her, trying to keep his casual composure
while still cursing himself mentally and scowling on the inside. What
in the hell was he doing?! "Eh...sorry I hit you so hard..."
The last bit was discreetly mumbled.

Martel
swallowed to regain herself, rubbing her cheek. After a moment, she
muttered back, "...Sorry I was a bitch..."

Kimbley
reached up and rubbed the back of his head a bit. "It was my
fault for being such a jackass, though..."

"You
are a jackass," Martel said with a tiny sad smile, just a bare
quirk of her full lips. She sighed softly. She walked to the bar,
ducking under and finding some ice, tying it up in a towel and
holding it against her face. "But I'm an idiot, so you have
every right to hit me. Can't believe I was crying..."

"You're
still a woman after all, unpredictable and way too emotional."
Kimbley walked back and took a seat at the bar again, reaching under
and grabbing the bottle he'd left before.

"Like
you've had so much experience with women," the chimera said,
smirking a little and rolling her eyes. This was strange... not like
her typical arguments with him... no, this was teasing, not
insulting. "What's your record for knowing a woman and not
blowing her up? 48 hours?"

"Well
how long have I known you?" Kimbley realized the second he
finished that phrase that it definitely didn't sound like it would be
taken the way he meant it.

Martel
paused, and then smirked, shifting the ice on her cheek. "So,
you've been able to stand me the longest, and yet, you hate me the
most. I guess I'm glad you like me more than the others."

A mixed
look came across Kimbley's features, as though he wasn't quite sure
how to react to that. "Tch...it's only because Greed and the
others would have my head if I killed you..." Stop confusing
yourself Zo...you're losing your own ability to differentiate between
fact and what is perceived as fact...

Martel
laughed softly. "Come on, Kimbley, you're a convicted State
Alchemist. What would a few more people after you really mean for
you? Need I point out the people who dislike you? Edward Elric,
Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Alex Armstrong, need I go on? That's
only the beginning, and just the alchemists."

"Che...."
Kimbley turned his head. God he hated women and their damn logic.

Martel
snickered softly, shaking her head. "So I suppose you just like
me. Okay, I guess I can tolerate that."

"I
never said that!" The Crimson Alchemist snapped back, gold eyes
glaring at Martel. "Don't go putting words in my mouth, hebi!"

"When
you find yourself too tongue-tied to do it yourself, I feel I should
compensate," she replied with a smirk.

Kimbley
resorted to taking a long drink from the bottle he was holding to
avoid spitting out something else that would be overly jackass of
him. "I still hate you..."

"We
just went over this, Kimbley," Martel said with a smirk, rubbing
the ice on her cheek. "Greed being angry at you wouldn't really
make a difference, so the reason that I've been alive for so long in
your presence is because you don't hate me. If you don't want me to
put words in your mouth, come up with something better to say."

"Fuck
you..." Kimbley mumbled, taking another drink from the bottle
and saying no more.

"Good
enough," Martel replied, nodding. She yawned and took a seat
next to Kimbley, getting tired of standing. She rested her elbow on
the bar, leaning her head against the towel-covered ice.

"Che..."
Kimbley snorted, pointedly turning his back to Martel again.

Martel
paused, and looked over at him after a few moments. "Kimbley,"
she said thoughtfully. "Why do you still stay around here? You
always complain about it."

There was
a long stretch of silence as the Crimson Alchemist was thinking.
Finally, he shook his head. "I don't know..."

Well,
this was somewhere at least. At least he was answering her question.
After a moment's silence, Martel dared to ask a second, deeper
question, "...Do you care about anyone here? Or is it just a
place to stay?"

"......"
An empty bottle was set down on the bar counter, followed by another
long pause.

"I
don't know...."

Martel's
verdant eyes surveyed the empty bottle and mused idly, He's
probably as drunk as I am by now... She listened to his answer,
frowning a little. "Don't know, or won't tell?"

Kimbley
muttered something that couldn't be understood and looked at the
ceiling. "What's it to you anyway...since when do you care?"

"I'm
curious," the chimera replied softly. "I've never really
understood why you're here."

"I
don't guess I'm entirely sure why I'm here either...so I don't think
I could help you on that one..." One hand raised over Kimbley's
shoulder in a dismissive gesture, but it was only half-assed.

Martel
laid her head down on her arms, the towel positioned between her
elbow and her cheek, tilting her head over at the alchemist. "Do
you think you've ever cared about anyone?" Questions kept
coming, but then again, there was a lot Martel didn't know about
Kimbley, and how often would she get a chance to speak with him like
this?

"I
don't remember..." Kimbley lied through his teeth, and it was
starting to get obvious. He could already feel the effects of the
alcohol starting to take over his thoughts, and he knew before long
there wouldn't be any more excuses.

Martel
snickered softly. "I'm drunk, Kimbley, and I can still tell
you're lying. Come on."

"Che...drunk
and asking too many questions..." The Crimson Alchemist turned
back around to face Martel, smug look on his face, or so it seemed
really. "What if I don't wanna answer that..."

"Then
too bad. You bruised my cheek, I get a free call." She lifted
the ice away where a reddish spot had formed, darkening slightly. The
chimera smirked.

"You
said it yourself you deserved it..." Kimbley shot back, vaguely
aware of his hand reaching up to poke the bruised flesh lightly.

Martel
pouted at the evasive answer and the poke, practically whining, "Neh,
Kimbley, just answer the question. We're both probably too drunk to
remember it tomorrow."

"You
know how I got these to stay so long?" Avoiding again, Kimbley
held up his hands in front of himself, showing the tattoos.

"Because
you got a girlfriend somewhere along the line?" Martel said with
a light smirk.

"What
the hell does that have to do with tattoos..." Kimbley dropped
his hands, giving a somewhat annoyed look.

The snake
woman laughed softly. "Oh come on. Couples always make each
other get tattoos. Maybe she was big on the whole alchemist
explosives thing like you."

Kimbley
snorted. "There never was a girlfriend! And for your information
I inlayed the liquid carbon myself!"

Martel
laughed again. "Okay, okay, I give up. I still don't believe you
though." She shifted her head on her arms, saying, "So tell
me about the tattoos then."

"Normal
tattoos wear off if you put them on the palms of your hands, you
know? So I used liquid carbon and fused it into the skin through
alchemy." Kimbley seemed satisfied, and grinned. "You can
feel the difference if you touch it..." He held out one hand,
palm up, towards Martel.

Martel
blinked, then lifted her head tiredly as she sat up. She reached her
hand out, over his palm, and traced her fingers over it the surface.
Indeed, it felt different than one would expect, and Martel held out
her own hand, tracing it over hers and then Kimbley's for comparison.
She moved around the crescent moon shape, and looked up at him. "Can
you feel it?" she asked curiously.

"A
little...sorta like a loose tooth just barely moves but you can still
feel that it's moving..." Kimbley reached out with the other
hand and pointed at the tattoo down the side of Martel's neck and her
shoulder. "When'd you get yours?"

"In
the 5th Laboratory," Martel said softly, tilting her head down
to glance at it in an elegant curve of neck. Like red brushstrokes
across her collarbone and shoulder, while it was not for fashion
purposes, it was still an artful design, and one could see a snake
crawling through it.

"Oh
yeah...that place...heh...that was fun..." Kimbley sighed at the
memory. "First time I got to blow somebody up in a good five
years!" Ah, good times, good times.

"Yeah,
that place was a real carnival," the snake said, rolling her
eyes. "You'd think that they ask any doctor that enters to leave
his soul and conscience at the door."

"I
didn't know all that...met Greed there though...has some fun blowing
stuff up..." Kimbley looked a little too happy for the subject
matter...even if it WAS him...

"Is
that all you think about?" Martel asked bemusedly, looking over
at him. "If you had a journal, would you write things like 'I
blew up 12 people today! Go me!'?"

"Probably..."
Kimbley grinned, slightly a lopsided grin considering he was drunk,
gold eyes looking at Martel only half open.

Martel
snickered, a soft, tired sound, shaking her head. She rubbed her
forefingers against her temple - exasperated, but amused. "You're
very strange, you know that?"

"Look
who's talking, serpentine goddess.." Wow. Yes Kimbley. You are
fucking drunk.

"Ooh,
a goddess now, am I?" she laughed. Yes, only under drunkenness
would Martel tolerate a comment like that, from Kimbley no less.
"Kimbley, I think to you, anything that has breasts is a
goddess." Then again, only her drunkenness would she give such a
reply.

"Che...I
think you're confusing me with Greed..." The Crimson Alchemist
stood, albeit a bit shakily, and leaned forward, one hand on the side
of Martel's seat to keep himself up as the other lifted the chimera's
chin, causing their lips to meet in a kiss that still tasted a little
less than faintly of alcohol.

Martel
blinked, her hand slowly bringing the ice down and away from her
face. The warmth there right now would probably melt it anyway. She
too, tasted of alcohol, but there was a slight bitter, spicy tang to
her lips, like the venom of her serpentine cousins (of course, hers
wasn't even considered venom). Her dull green eyes watched Kimbley
for a few moments, then closed, her luscious, full lips moving
softly, slowly against his.

Instinctively,
Kimbley leaned forward slowly, causing Martel to lean
back...further...further...

And then
it was noted perhaps in the backs of both of their minds, that the
barstools had no backs.

Martel
went crashing down, the back of her head hitting one of the rungs of
the stool behind her and leaving her out cold, with Kimbley's face
catching a softer landing, right between the chimera's breasts. He
was about to say something, when Martel's stool fell over and hit him
rather hard on the back of the head, leaving the two of them sprawled
there next to the bar in a tangled mess of barstools and bodies, and
it sure didn't help matters that Kimbley's face was still nuzzled
comfortably in Martel's chest.

Indeed, a
very peculiar picture they painted here. An escaped female chimera
and a convicted male alchemist (who absolutely loathed each other no
less) laid on the ground, both unconscious, one on top of the other,
the man with his face hidden between her breasts and the woman with
her lips slightly reddened from kissing. Indeed, yes, if anyone were
to see them... it would be trouble. Very confusing trouble.

Even more
surprising would be the predicament Martel would wake to find herself
in. After all, one tends to drool if one is drunk and knocked
unconscious, and Kimbley was doing just that, in the worst of places
no less.

After
several hours, it was Martel who woke. Stuck by a splitting headache,
she opened her eyes, and then shut them quickly. The mere dim light
of the room made her head throb. Lifting her hand away from her face,
she rubbed her eyes and then peeked them open. They took a few
moments to get adjusted, and then she sighed. The chimera looked
around. How... did I get on the floor? Her chest felt tight, as if
something was pressing down on it, and then she realized the warm
weight atop it. She blinked, looking down. Black hair. With a
ponytail. Wearing red. In her chest. Abruptly, she felt very, very
sick. "Kimbley..." she managed to choke out, her voice
strained with anger (which was only intensified with her headache).
And then she did the best thing she could do. She jammed her knee
upwards and into the alchemist's groin.

The
Crimson Alchemist was faced with a double dose of pain to wake him
up, rolling off of Martel and curling into a fetal position, hands
cupped between his legs. That was NOT a fun way to wake up. At. All.
Once that initial shock was over, Kimbley became aware of the
splitting headache associated with a hangover, as well as the
increasingly strong urge to vomit. Insert a string of barely audible
curses here, which would have been louder had he not been in extreme
pain with a throbbing headache.

Martel
growled, sitting upright and reaching over, grabbing his collar. She
raised her arm to hit him. "What did you think you were--"
She broke off suddenly, her brow furrowing. She clapped a hand over
her mouth, and swiftly turned to the side, promptly vomiting.

Well that
did it. Kimbley swiftly followed suit in the opposite direction,
wiping his mouth on the back of his hand with a groan. "You
mind...not talking so loud...." He hissed through his teeth,
throat still burning from the acid.

"I'm
not the one talking, you are!" Martel hissed, and coughed again,
wiping her mouth as well. She reached up, holding onto the bar to
pull herself up. She groaned, resting her head in her arms. She had
the worst hangover... "Law? Law! Where the hell is the
aspirin!?" she yelled. Upon no response, she rubbed her head,
stumbling behind the bar and rummaging clumsily for it. After a few
moments, she came upon it, dumping a few out into her hand and
swallowing them. She let out a breath and ducked against the bar
again. Kimbley had escaped her wrath for the moment, but only because
her head spun.

Kimbley
pushed himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the bar and
reaching out his hand in a gesture that obviously said 'I know you're
not THAT much of a bitch and YOU know you're not the ONLY one with a
hangover headache here, so could you please pass the damn
painkillers?'

Martel
glanced up at the movement, peering a green eye out at him. She
ducked her head back into her arms and pushed the bottle of pills
over to him with her palm. She remembered a few things, here and
there... Kimbley... Greed... Envy... Kimbley... she remembered kisses
and yells, and alcohol. Lots of alcohol. "What the hell
happened?" she groaned.

Kimbley
quickly swallowed a couple of the pills, rubbing his temples.
"Envy...drinking...tattoos...hangover... ." Well, at least
it sorta made sense....

She
lifted her head, her first two fingers pressed to either side of her
temples. Martel gestured with them rigidly before bringing them back.
"That doesn't help, Kimbley..." she hissed.

"I
was drunk what the hell do you expect..." The Crimson Alchemist
was copying her movements and tone of voice, hissing right back.

"Envy
was here... as Greed... and he and I..." Martel said slowly,
hands over her face, piecing it together with her words. "And
then you... were talking, but I don't remember what... I remember
your tattoos... but that still doesn't explain why we were on the
floor like that..." She thought she knew, but she really, really
didn't want to admit it.

"Fuck...."
Kimbley remembered now...hazy, due to the alcohol, but he
remembered...

Suddenly,
the alchemist felt as though he wanted to hurl again, and collapsed
back to the floor, under the overhang of the bar, just rubbing his
temples as he sat there in the shadows.

"It
never happened, agreed?"

"Agreed,"
the chimera croaked, sounding as if she too would be sick again.
Her... and Kimbley? That psychotic, pyromaniac asshole? She
shuddered, groaning and rubbing her temples. "If I didn't have
such a hangover, and you weren't here, I'd drink myself into oblivion
and hope I forgot the last 24 hours..."

"I'd
write it off as an alcohol induced dream and blow something up to
replace it with fonder memories..." Why did he bother, hell he
knew that if they weren't so damn hung over right now they'd be at
each other's throats..."Now what...."

"I'm
going to settle for sleeping myself into oblivion," she
muttered, standing and tripping towards the couch, falling onto it.
Martel's face was muffled into the pillow, but she said, "You
touch me, and I kill you."

"There's
no way in hell I'd touch you by choice unless I was really piss
drunk..." Okay time to forget about that incident...Kimbley
groaned as the memory resurfaced. That was the last time he ever got
drunk around ANYBODY again...Pushing himself up, then pulling himself
up, Kimbley curled up on the bar, head buried under his arms to block
the light.

Martel
couldn't believe it... her... and Kimbley... But not only her and
Kimbley, she'd even fallen under Envy's charm. She didn't know how
she could have not realized it was him. Her head hurt, not just from
the hangover, but also from all the thoughts that were whirring
through her mind. She had to sleep it off. She had to. The only ones
who would know what happened that night (both between she and Envy
and she and Kimbley) had to remain the two of them there now. Envy
knew... but she resolved to murder him before he told anyone. The
snake chimera shut her eyes tighter, curling up on the couch and
holding a pillow over her head. The sun was shining outside now
(since it was later in the morning), so no one would come into the
bar for drinking at least. Good. She wanted to avoid Greed for now.
She decided to ignore the fact that Greed didn't come here to drink.

Please
review, constructive criticism and questions appreciated, flames will
be deflected back at you by Roy. n.n;
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Unsettling Affairs