Lascivious

Chapter Seven

General Mustang seemed to be working late. As the night sky grew dimmer, the two boys standing outside of Central HQ watched one by one the lights of the marble building flicker off and soldiers and secretaries alike exit until at last a familiar figure, firmly built and shorter than some of its compatriots, exited as well.

The smaller of the two, reclining against the side of the building and obscured by shadow, motioned to his brother, further back so as to not be noticed, to follow along.

Al knew that he wasn't an ideal candidate for a mission like this, one that required stealth and obscurity, but to be fair, neither was Ed, although that had more to do with temperament than build. But they were working with limited resources; even Rebecca had admitted that her guns wouldn't be much help against a homunculus if things got hairy and there was no way Al was going to allow his only brother to trail Lust into the homunculus' lair alone.

They followed the homunculus through city streets and alleyways, Ed always at least ten paces behind, Al twenty. Lust glanced behind him and Al stiffened. Although the waning light obscured their features, newly lit streetlights cast elongated shadows and Al's own vast outline wasn't exactly forgettable. Neither of the boys knew how much of the former Colonel's memories Lust retained. Neither knew if Lust was already well aware of whom he strode in front of.

The Brigadier General darted his head from side to side and ducked into an alleyway. Al crossed the street to watch straight on from a distance while Ed stood in wait around the corner. Lust fiddled for a moment with a steel gateway and then entered the oncoming darkness. Al looked up at an illuminated street sign, committing it to memory and walked across the street to meet Ed.

So this was the place. Beyond that hatched door lay the headquarters of those who had caused them so much trouble: the beings who had kidnapped Lieutenant Hawkeye, stripped Mustang of his autonomy, murdered Hughes—

Al could tell that Ed's thoughts paralleled his own by the narrowed, determined look in his eyes, the desperate clenching of his fist. "We need to go in there," Ed said resolutely.

Well, almost paralleled. Had Al had lungs, he would have sighed in exasperation.

"Brother," he said patronizingly. "That's not the plan. We needed to find out where the homunculi were hiding and then tell Rebecca and Lieutenant Havoc so we can—"

"But we still don't know whether Lieutenant Hawkeye is still in there!" Ed argued. "If we wait any longer she could be dead. We need to do something now, Al. Don't you want those bastards to answer for something at least? Don't you want—"

The display of passion came to an end as words, anything Ed could use to verbalize the feeling inside of him, seemed inadequate. But as Ed stared at his younger brother, eyes narrowed and filled with anger and righteous pain, he needn't have finished his sentence. Al understood. Empty and unfeeling as this hollow shell of a body was, something like a heart still ached inside of him.

He had not had time to collect his thoughts, to verbalize either his agreement or dissent—he had not yet decided on which—when Ed thrust the gate open with a hollow creak.

--

Lust knew that he was being followed. Roy could tell by the quickened pace, the irregular thud of his heartbeat, the looks from side to side. From his distant, barely manifested space in Lust's mind, he laughed. It seemed that even homunculi got nervous. Although Lust had no idea as to the identity of his pursuers, Roy could have recognized the sharp edges of Alphonse Elric's profile lurking across the street anywhere.