Post by LadyRiona on Oct 19, 2005 8:06:55 GMT -5
Hello! Hmm....how to begin....well, I am LadyRiona, this is a messageboard for posting stories started by Meluvian Indil and I am here to write stories for you! lol No, not everything is going to be this crazy beginning. Anyway, I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, nor do I own the idea for this AU fic. Are you thinking le gasp!? Don't worry! I own at least half of it. I'm only using characters and just a few, I mean a few scenarios from FMA anime. Then there are some things, such as the general idea of this story being from the movie The Bodyguard, which I do not own either. Otherwise, I own it. lol So, I hope I haven't bored you all, and I hope that you all like my story! Oh, I write long chapters, so I will be cutting most chapters in half, or even in thirds.
Expect the Unexpected
By LadyRiona
Chapter 1, Part A
Rating: K+ to T, for fluff
"Hey, get up," an angry voice ordered with the accompanying noise of a thick folder slapping the desk. The person the order had been meant for snapped his head up, blond hair flying backwards behind his head. He looked at his boss and scowled offendingly. "You have a new assignment."
With that, the dark headed man left to go to his office twenty paces away. Why the man even bothered to get up was beyond the young, blond haired man. Just before his boss disappeared into the office, he held his left hand up, imitated a gun and pretended to shoot at the testy man of higher rank. Scattered laughter hung in the air as the young man lifted his feet off his desk and dropped them to the floor. With a frustrated sigh, he stood up and pushed his long bangs behind his ear before shoving his hands in his pockets. The day was only halfway through, and he had a feeling it would become much longer.
As he strutted down the long aisle of desks to the office door that read "Captain Roy Mustang," on the glass, the young man highly contemplated going back to his own desk and sleeping for a little while longer. But the better part of valor told him that he and his younger brother needed whatever money this assignment could bring in. So he kept on reluctantly and opened the door without bothering to knock.
Mustang was sitting at his desk, filling out some form or other. "Sit down," he said absently.
So he did and then felt the wave of sleepiness come back. The younger man stifled a yawn as he waited not-so-patiently for his assignment briefing. It was about five more minutes and five yawns later that he was finally spoken to again. That could have been five more minutes catching up on lost sleep at his desk.
The captain leaned back in his chair and stared out the window. "Winry Rockbell," he said wistfully. "Have you ever heard her music before?"
The young man lifted an eyebrow. "My brother listens to her music while he works; says her voice is soothing," he answered hesitantly. In truth, he actually owned one of her earlier CDs, but would never let anyone know, not even his brother Alphonse. "Why?"
"If you've been reading the paper, you'll know that there's been threat notes sent to her lately from some anonymous person," Mustang said. "She's come to our police station and requested a bodyguard of the best sorts."
"I'm just part of the Criminal Intelligence Division, sir," he argued.
"And with that training, you can take care of Ms. Rockbell and find the person who is after her life," the captain said with such a calm voice that it unnerved the younger man. "Here is the case file with copies of the letters sent to her." He pushed the folder towards the end of the desk nonchalantly. "Go research it," he ordered dismissively, returning to his other paperwork.
The light haired man gritted his teeth as he snatched up the folder. In his head, he was growling very many not-so-nice phrases about his captain. He didn't dare to ever say them aloud, lest he lose the job he had been working at since he'd been able to work.
"Oh, and Elric?"
Edward Elric bit his cheek and took a deep breath. Very slowly, he turned around. "Yes?" he grumbled.
"Don't fall out of your chair when you fall asleep again."
The blond man let his breath out in a hiss. The captain wouldn't let him live that down, would he? The day that he could get away from Mustang without hearing two words about that incident would be the day he fell to the floor and kissed that man's steel toe boots. Unfortunately, he didn't see that day coming any time soon.
----------
Later that evening, Ed Elric trudged in through the front door with heavy, tired steps. It was a little after six, and there was nothing more he wanted to do than to go back to sleep. But from the sound that greeted his ears, he likely wouldn't be able to sleep for at least another two hours. So he dropped his briefcase on the counter and went directly to the freezer. He pulled out a bottle of clear liquor from near the icebox and contemplated using a glass. Since his brother was too young and had no taste for alchohol, he drank straight from the bottle and drained a small amount of its contents.
Feeling decidedly better, he capped the bottle once more and shoved it back in the freezer. Maybe there was hope of getting his brother to read a book for a little while or to at least make some dinner. So Ed approached the basement door and the sounds of a metal grinder became louder. He opened the door and started down the stairs to the near deafening workshop.
His brother, Alphonse, was an armorer. His clients were usually people who attended renaissance faires for the joust, or they were just purists who wanted a spectacular costume. Then there was the occasional freak who wanted a sword made for his collection. On especially rare occasions, a rich somebody requested Al's service for a decorative suit of armor. Even more rare were people who ordered Al's favorite armor to make - the unusual and unique. But since there were no faires coming up in the next few months, Al was reduced to mere repairing of armor. Why his brother chose to use his hand tools was beyond Ed, though. They were both fully fledged alchemists - illegally, however - and could do most anything they wanted with their unusual skill. But still, Al seemed to like to do things his way - the manual way.
As Ed stepped down to the concrete basement, he was surrounded by the usual sounds of Al's metal shop and Winry Rockbell's CD blaring over the speakers. They were lousy neighbors; Ed readily admit that. He was about to step over to the stereo to at least turn down the music to get his brother's attention when he saw a breastplate with a particularly nasty rip in the side. He figured he'd give his brother a hand and fix it. So he clapped his hands and then covered the tear. A blue light emanated from the metal and soon there was no more tear - the armor was good as new!
Then Al turned around as he heard the alchemic reaction. "Brother!" he cried. "I was going to fix that myself!" He scowled at the armor.
Ed shrugged. "I decided to give my little brother a hand," he said nonchalantly. Since they were having to yell over the music, he reached out and turned Winry's voice down.
"I'm supposed to do these jobs myself, Brother, or else I don't feel right about giving it back to the person." Al looked away and back at his present job.
"Well, I saved you some time and effort. But I can always undo it." Ed made to clap his hands again.
Al turned around hastily. "No! I wouldn't want you to undo your alchemy, Brother, since you don't get to use it as often anymore," he said. Ed snickered to himself and walked over to his brother. Al, however, didn't want to discuss his work at the moment. "How was your job today?" he asked.
Ed shrugged and went over to the refrigerator in the corner. He pulled out a can of soda and popped the top. "You want one?" he asked Al. His brother shook his head. "It was work," Ed went on. "I fell asleep at my desk again...did my usual paperwork on that one case." He took a long drink from the can. "Oh, and I got a new assignment," he added as if it were nothing.
Alphonse was immediately excited. They had been living well enough off of Edward's usual paycheck, but things were beginning to get a little tight, what with Al's lack of work. It was a good thing when Ed was assigned a new job. "What is it, Brother?" he asked, his enthusiasm apparent on every word.
With a sly smile, he headed towards the stairs. "You'll never believe me. You'll just think it's some cruel joke Havoc made up for me to play on you," he threw over his shoulder.
He heard Al going through the routine of throwing off his work apron, turning off the machines, taking off the goggles, and running up the stairs after his older brother. "No, I won't; what is it?"
Ed threw himself on the couch and reached for his briefcase. "Start on some dinner, would you Al? I'm starving," he said dismissively.
Al jumped on the couch next to his brother, disrupting his orderly papers. "Brother! Tell me!" He gave Ed an impatient look. "Or no dinner."
The elder brother's jaw dropped. "That's a cheap shot, Alphonse. You know I can't cook to save my life," he murmured.
"Then tell me! You can't just say you got a new assignment and leave it at that. It has to be somewhere in the Handbook of Being an Older Brother." Al pointed at the rather thick book on the bookshelves lining the wall.
Ed grimaced at the thought. "You're like a kid on Christmas, Al," he mumbled. Then he started rifling through his papers until he came across the folder Mustang had given him earlier that day. "I, Edward Elric of the Criminal Intelligence Division of Central CityPolice, have been ordered to be the bodyguard of one Winry Elizabeth Rockbell, the newest diva to grace the ears of most inhabitants of Central City." He took a deep breath after expending all those words.
Al's jaw dropped. "There is a line--I can find it, hold on--in the Handbook on lying to me about something like that!" he exclaimed, jumping for the book. Since he was a lot taller than Ed, he had the advantage of putting it up high enough so Ed couldn't burn it.
"Alphonse, it's in the folder here," Edward laughed incredulously. "Come take a look. And get dinner started before I eat your book while it's down here."
Immediately, the young man dropped the book on the floor and dove for the couch. Ed slid onto the floor just before Al landed in the exact spot his older brother had been in. That had been close...too close. When Ed sat up, his younger brother was leafing through the folder. When he finished, Al looked up from the papers in disbelief, his jaw slack and eyes wide. It took him a moment to recover enough to speak. “Is-Is she going to come here? Will she live with us? Can I meet her? Oh, but how long are you on this assignment?” Questions spewed forth in the exact order Al’s thought process worked when he didn’t think first.
It took a bit for Ed not to laugh at his excited brother. “She might come here only once if it’s absolutely necessary,” he answered. “I mean, look at his place Al; it’s a mess. And I’m not ever here half the time.”
“Well, can I meet her?” Al’s eyes glistened hopefully.
Edward shrugged a little. “Maybe, if I ever get timeto putone word in for her busy schedule,” he mumbled. Then his stomach alerted him to its unfed stated. “Al,” he said pitifully.
“Just a minute, Brother. Waiting to eat will do you good. I really want to meet her.”
The eldest blinked. “Yes, I know. I really want to eat something,” he returned.
“Brother!” Alphonse pleaded.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Ed finally said. “But essentially it’s up to the diva.”
Al didn’t hear the second phrase. He was already in the kitchen preparing something edible.
------------
Tada!! Okay...hoped you all liked it!
Oh, and a biiiiig thanks to Meluvian Indil for starting this site. *applause*
Edit: Needed to add the rating. >.< lol
Expect the Unexpected
By LadyRiona
Chapter 1, Part A
Rating: K+ to T, for fluff
"Hey, get up," an angry voice ordered with the accompanying noise of a thick folder slapping the desk. The person the order had been meant for snapped his head up, blond hair flying backwards behind his head. He looked at his boss and scowled offendingly. "You have a new assignment."
With that, the dark headed man left to go to his office twenty paces away. Why the man even bothered to get up was beyond the young, blond haired man. Just before his boss disappeared into the office, he held his left hand up, imitated a gun and pretended to shoot at the testy man of higher rank. Scattered laughter hung in the air as the young man lifted his feet off his desk and dropped them to the floor. With a frustrated sigh, he stood up and pushed his long bangs behind his ear before shoving his hands in his pockets. The day was only halfway through, and he had a feeling it would become much longer.
As he strutted down the long aisle of desks to the office door that read "Captain Roy Mustang," on the glass, the young man highly contemplated going back to his own desk and sleeping for a little while longer. But the better part of valor told him that he and his younger brother needed whatever money this assignment could bring in. So he kept on reluctantly and opened the door without bothering to knock.
Mustang was sitting at his desk, filling out some form or other. "Sit down," he said absently.
So he did and then felt the wave of sleepiness come back. The younger man stifled a yawn as he waited not-so-patiently for his assignment briefing. It was about five more minutes and five yawns later that he was finally spoken to again. That could have been five more minutes catching up on lost sleep at his desk.
The captain leaned back in his chair and stared out the window. "Winry Rockbell," he said wistfully. "Have you ever heard her music before?"
The young man lifted an eyebrow. "My brother listens to her music while he works; says her voice is soothing," he answered hesitantly. In truth, he actually owned one of her earlier CDs, but would never let anyone know, not even his brother Alphonse. "Why?"
"If you've been reading the paper, you'll know that there's been threat notes sent to her lately from some anonymous person," Mustang said. "She's come to our police station and requested a bodyguard of the best sorts."
"I'm just part of the Criminal Intelligence Division, sir," he argued.
"And with that training, you can take care of Ms. Rockbell and find the person who is after her life," the captain said with such a calm voice that it unnerved the younger man. "Here is the case file with copies of the letters sent to her." He pushed the folder towards the end of the desk nonchalantly. "Go research it," he ordered dismissively, returning to his other paperwork.
The light haired man gritted his teeth as he snatched up the folder. In his head, he was growling very many not-so-nice phrases about his captain. He didn't dare to ever say them aloud, lest he lose the job he had been working at since he'd been able to work.
"Oh, and Elric?"
Edward Elric bit his cheek and took a deep breath. Very slowly, he turned around. "Yes?" he grumbled.
"Don't fall out of your chair when you fall asleep again."
The blond man let his breath out in a hiss. The captain wouldn't let him live that down, would he? The day that he could get away from Mustang without hearing two words about that incident would be the day he fell to the floor and kissed that man's steel toe boots. Unfortunately, he didn't see that day coming any time soon.
----------
Later that evening, Ed Elric trudged in through the front door with heavy, tired steps. It was a little after six, and there was nothing more he wanted to do than to go back to sleep. But from the sound that greeted his ears, he likely wouldn't be able to sleep for at least another two hours. So he dropped his briefcase on the counter and went directly to the freezer. He pulled out a bottle of clear liquor from near the icebox and contemplated using a glass. Since his brother was too young and had no taste for alchohol, he drank straight from the bottle and drained a small amount of its contents.
Feeling decidedly better, he capped the bottle once more and shoved it back in the freezer. Maybe there was hope of getting his brother to read a book for a little while or to at least make some dinner. So Ed approached the basement door and the sounds of a metal grinder became louder. He opened the door and started down the stairs to the near deafening workshop.
His brother, Alphonse, was an armorer. His clients were usually people who attended renaissance faires for the joust, or they were just purists who wanted a spectacular costume. Then there was the occasional freak who wanted a sword made for his collection. On especially rare occasions, a rich somebody requested Al's service for a decorative suit of armor. Even more rare were people who ordered Al's favorite armor to make - the unusual and unique. But since there were no faires coming up in the next few months, Al was reduced to mere repairing of armor. Why his brother chose to use his hand tools was beyond Ed, though. They were both fully fledged alchemists - illegally, however - and could do most anything they wanted with their unusual skill. But still, Al seemed to like to do things his way - the manual way.
As Ed stepped down to the concrete basement, he was surrounded by the usual sounds of Al's metal shop and Winry Rockbell's CD blaring over the speakers. They were lousy neighbors; Ed readily admit that. He was about to step over to the stereo to at least turn down the music to get his brother's attention when he saw a breastplate with a particularly nasty rip in the side. He figured he'd give his brother a hand and fix it. So he clapped his hands and then covered the tear. A blue light emanated from the metal and soon there was no more tear - the armor was good as new!
Then Al turned around as he heard the alchemic reaction. "Brother!" he cried. "I was going to fix that myself!" He scowled at the armor.
Ed shrugged. "I decided to give my little brother a hand," he said nonchalantly. Since they were having to yell over the music, he reached out and turned Winry's voice down.
"I'm supposed to do these jobs myself, Brother, or else I don't feel right about giving it back to the person." Al looked away and back at his present job.
"Well, I saved you some time and effort. But I can always undo it." Ed made to clap his hands again.
Al turned around hastily. "No! I wouldn't want you to undo your alchemy, Brother, since you don't get to use it as often anymore," he said. Ed snickered to himself and walked over to his brother. Al, however, didn't want to discuss his work at the moment. "How was your job today?" he asked.
Ed shrugged and went over to the refrigerator in the corner. He pulled out a can of soda and popped the top. "You want one?" he asked Al. His brother shook his head. "It was work," Ed went on. "I fell asleep at my desk again...did my usual paperwork on that one case." He took a long drink from the can. "Oh, and I got a new assignment," he added as if it were nothing.
Alphonse was immediately excited. They had been living well enough off of Edward's usual paycheck, but things were beginning to get a little tight, what with Al's lack of work. It was a good thing when Ed was assigned a new job. "What is it, Brother?" he asked, his enthusiasm apparent on every word.
With a sly smile, he headed towards the stairs. "You'll never believe me. You'll just think it's some cruel joke Havoc made up for me to play on you," he threw over his shoulder.
He heard Al going through the routine of throwing off his work apron, turning off the machines, taking off the goggles, and running up the stairs after his older brother. "No, I won't; what is it?"
Ed threw himself on the couch and reached for his briefcase. "Start on some dinner, would you Al? I'm starving," he said dismissively.
Al jumped on the couch next to his brother, disrupting his orderly papers. "Brother! Tell me!" He gave Ed an impatient look. "Or no dinner."
The elder brother's jaw dropped. "That's a cheap shot, Alphonse. You know I can't cook to save my life," he murmured.
"Then tell me! You can't just say you got a new assignment and leave it at that. It has to be somewhere in the Handbook of Being an Older Brother." Al pointed at the rather thick book on the bookshelves lining the wall.
Ed grimaced at the thought. "You're like a kid on Christmas, Al," he mumbled. Then he started rifling through his papers until he came across the folder Mustang had given him earlier that day. "I, Edward Elric of the Criminal Intelligence Division of Central CityPolice, have been ordered to be the bodyguard of one Winry Elizabeth Rockbell, the newest diva to grace the ears of most inhabitants of Central City." He took a deep breath after expending all those words.
Al's jaw dropped. "There is a line--I can find it, hold on--in the Handbook on lying to me about something like that!" he exclaimed, jumping for the book. Since he was a lot taller than Ed, he had the advantage of putting it up high enough so Ed couldn't burn it.
"Alphonse, it's in the folder here," Edward laughed incredulously. "Come take a look. And get dinner started before I eat your book while it's down here."
Immediately, the young man dropped the book on the floor and dove for the couch. Ed slid onto the floor just before Al landed in the exact spot his older brother had been in. That had been close...too close. When Ed sat up, his younger brother was leafing through the folder. When he finished, Al looked up from the papers in disbelief, his jaw slack and eyes wide. It took him a moment to recover enough to speak. “Is-Is she going to come here? Will she live with us? Can I meet her? Oh, but how long are you on this assignment?” Questions spewed forth in the exact order Al’s thought process worked when he didn’t think first.
It took a bit for Ed not to laugh at his excited brother. “She might come here only once if it’s absolutely necessary,” he answered. “I mean, look at his place Al; it’s a mess. And I’m not ever here half the time.”
“Well, can I meet her?” Al’s eyes glistened hopefully.
Edward shrugged a little. “Maybe, if I ever get timeto putone word in for her busy schedule,” he mumbled. Then his stomach alerted him to its unfed stated. “Al,” he said pitifully.
“Just a minute, Brother. Waiting to eat will do you good. I really want to meet her.”
The eldest blinked. “Yes, I know. I really want to eat something,” he returned.
“Brother!” Alphonse pleaded.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Ed finally said. “But essentially it’s up to the diva.”
Al didn’t hear the second phrase. He was already in the kitchen preparing something edible.
------------
Tada!! Okay...hoped you all liked it!
Oh, and a biiiiig thanks to Meluvian Indil for starting this site. *applause*
Edit: Needed to add the rating. >.< lol