Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, and this story is not for profit.

One

Greed picked up two beautiful women one weeknight and humored them by asking them where they wanted to go that evening.

The younger brunette just giggled. Unsure and little uneasy as most humans were when they were fist introduced to him. She was new to the Nest, one of the many women from this part of Dublith that had found their way to his hangout…and to him. The blond one smiled and thought for few moments. It wasn't the first time she had spent the evening (and later the night) with Greed, and she a peculiarly level head compared to most of the ladies that frequented his hangout. She finally said (Linda? Belinda? Wasn't her name something like that?) that she had a friend, an older gentleman, who Greed might be interested in speaking with.

This gentleman, she told him and also the blond by proxy as they walked through the city streets, was a business man. A wealthy, successful businessman always looking, she said, for risk takers like himself as well as new and powerful connections. Greed smiled to hear this. Linda, or Belinda, was perceptive; he wondered how she knew that he was always looking for new ways to make money, or that shady business was his specialty. Not to mention that he was more powerfully connected than almost anyone in the entire country. Maybe she didn't know any of these things. Maybe she just assumed that he was, like most people, greedy. Well, greedy he was.

He ushered both ladies though an ornate door where a Butler took their coats. They were meeting this man at the ballet, and for the first time ever Greed found himself wearing a suit. He felt almost ill at ease in the apparel, but the blond assured him that once he put on a long black coat over the suit and exchanged his sunglasses for regular glasses, he would fit right in. He had, and even Linda agreed that he looked particularly dashing. " I belive you." He had said laughing.

As they were led up to the box seats where other people of considerable influence were seated, Greed had a passing wonder if perhaps Envy was here tonight. After all, a ballet seemed like the droll type of affair that the ugly monster would love to disguise himself for. Greed frowned. He definitely did not want to see Envy here tonight. His least favorite of all his brothers and sisters, just being in the same room with the other Homunculi put him in a bad mood.

"You're frowning, darling."

Greed looked down to Belinda. She was smiling but he knew she was worried. After all, this had all been her idea. If he became upset than he would blame her.

"Nothing is wrong, beautiful lady. I was thinking about somethin' else."

She smiled and let him kiss her on the lips before they were suddenly in the balcony with an old man and a woman who was either his daughter or a wife much too young for him.

The old man stood up to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you sir."

"Name's Greed. Nice to meet ya too."

"This is my wife, Carolyn."

The younger woman stepped forward and also shook hands with Greed.

"Carolyn. Especially nice to meet you."

The old man laughed as Carolyn blushed and went back to her seat with a program and a pair of opera glasses.

Let the old man laugh. Greed thought. He wasn't joking when he decided Carolyn was just another thing he would take from this old man.

"Oooh, look it's starting!" Greed's young blond companion shouted as she went to the edge of the balcony to take her seat. The ladies all settled in as the music for the ballet started to play, and as the lights in the theater dimmed Greed and the old man, whose name was Silas, started to discuss business.

Greed had to hand it to (Be?)-Linda; it was the exact kind of thing he would have thought of himself. And of course, he wasn't taking orders. It was a partnership. He and Silas would take equal risks, and split the profits fifty-fifty. At least for a while.

And all this was decided even before the intermission. Greed sat back in his chair, sighing. What a productive trip. Life could be so satisfying some times. The other homunculi had no idea-they were too busy acting as Father's slaves.

Silas went out to meet someone in the lobby and Greed moved up to Carolyn, Linda, and the blond who were sitting close to the edge watching the performance. The blond girl was trying to chew on a fingernail through her fancy evening gown gloves, her eyes following the action on stage with clear delight. Carolyn was gripping the rail of their box tightly, clearly moved by whatever was going on. Belinda was as cool as ever.

He glanced at the stage, where a man and woman in fancy costume were circling around each other on the stage. "So this is ballet, huh?"

All three women answered at the same time.

"Isn't it great?"

"Shhh!"

"You're just now noticing?"

Greed looked back to the stage. Yeah, there was no way he was going to sit and watch this for two hours now that he and Silas' business was concluded. At intermission he decided he would take the blond and Linda back to the Devil's Nest.

In the meantime he leaned back. Couldn't be that many minutes left could there?

His eyes drifted around the spectators. If Envy was here tonight he didn't see him. His eyes drifted over the bright chandelier and the painting on the ceiling. The twinkling music drifted into his ears. His eyes drifted back to the stage.

There were more people on the stage now. Smaller dancers-children-were circling around the male and female lead.

The man was good-although he had a naturally cheery disposition that didn't quite fit in with the tragic drama of the dance.

The woman on the other hand was clearly a master of her craft. She looked youngish-definitely not past her mid-20's. Greed couldn't tell what color her eyes were from here, but she had auburn hair that caught the light even from up here where he was sitting.

By no means did she have her partner's naturally happy aura; her face, intentionally or unintentionally, reflected the drama of the story. But it wasn't her face that caught his attention.

She danced on stage like…

…Well, the only other people he had seen move as gracefully were the other homunculi, but she definitely wasn't a homunculus. But she did move her body with the speed and skill of a fighter. Perhaps she was a fighter. A secret assassin or a spy.

Watching her, head in his hand, he felt himself enter a state he could only describe as a trance. Around and around the stage she twirled. The other dancers were there too but she outshone them so that they just became background objects like the stage or the curtain. The way she moved…it was hypnotic. He only became distracted when he noticed the hurting, twisting feeling in his stomach. An empty, craving deep inside him. To possess something he wanted but did not yet have.

Without taking his eyes off the ballerina, he turned to the blond beside him. "Who is that?"

She checked her program. "Elizabeth Ensley. Do you know her?"

"Not yet."

She laughed. "Oh, you."

"Oh me." He said to himself quietly, completely oblivious to the fact that if someone were to look over at him now they would see him smiling to himself for seemingly no reason at all. In fact, someone across the theatre, a young boy at the ballet with his parents for the very first time, did look over, and nearly jumped out of his seat at the sight of this man, who seemed a little off in a suit and tie, as if it didn't quite fit him, smiling like a cat watching a goldfish swim around in circles, knowing that it has all the time in the world to make his attack.

….

The ballet ran every night for the next three weeks.

Greed attended every night except the last.

And Elizabeth Ensley, the young star of the ballet, received spectacular gifts in her dressing room every night except the last.

Her dressing room, which was usually filled with flowers after a performance from the fans, had in attention at least one strange and expensive object every night.

The first night it was some exotic bird from Xing delivered in a gilded cage and worth probably a fortune.

The second night there was an hourglass, the sands of which were glistening dust from powdered rubies, emeralds, and sapphires.

And so it continued for the next three weeks: red roses tied in bouquets with ropes of pearls, clothes scented with perfume from across the sea, a beautiful Ishvalan music box that played a sad desert tune when she opened the lid.

The other dancers grew jealous, but Elizabeth grew more frightened each night. She was not as old as Greed had thought, she was in fact weeks shy of her twentieth birthday, but she had lived enough to know that no one ever gives so extravagantly unless they want something in return. She begged the delivery boy, sometimes to the point of tears, to please take the gifts back, or to at least tell the giver to desist, but the boy would shake his head sadly, wishing he could help the beautiful dancer, but explain that he had no idea who was sending the gifts or how to get ahold of said person. Whoever sent them sent them straight to the delivery service who then sent them to him to deliver in person.

When she danced she would sometimes scan the crowds with her eyes, searching for whoever the mysterious gift giver might be. Could it be the Officer Nichols, sitting in his private box? He was known for his numerous affairs with dancers and actresses; perhaps he was seeking to begin one with her? Or perhaps it was the aging Baron Learuex, who was the only person surely who was wealthy enough to keep sending these priceless gifts, and whose wife had passed away less than a year ago and was clearly very lonely? One thing was for sure, she was certain it could not be the man with the short bristly hair and the glasses. She was sure she had never met him before, but he always sat in the front row with a very intense gaze upon her face. It unnerved her, but how could he be her secret admirer when he sat with his arms around the women on either side of him each night?

On the last night of the performance she didn't pay attention to the crowds, she decided it was of no use. Strange to say that that night no gift showed up, and for the first time in weeks she breathed a sigh of relief. Things would surely go back to normal now.

And they did, until a month later when she was attending a ball held for one of the bigwigs at Dublith's electric company.

She, along with several of the other most popular dancers, actors, and actors, were there, not because they were members of the Amestrisian aristocracy, but because they were "encouraged" by their agents, managers, directors, etc. to show up and basically promote themselves by showing their faces. Errol and Adaline Minks, Elizabeth's agents, had similarly ordered her to attend. They were both at the party themselves, because unlike Elizabeth they had been born into the secret and glamorous world of high society. A world which she now found herself surrounded by, but not quite involved in. It were as if she were always standing on the edge of the sand where the waves break against the shore, getting her feet wet but not able to swim.

Elizabeth milled about for a bit a bit, chatting here with another dancer she knew or introducing someone there.

When midnight rolled around the musicians started to play the first waltz, and across the room Elizabeth saw Adaline and Errol nod at her, their eyes saying, "Now is your time to do your job."

So she set down her glass of champagne, smiling for the people were now watching, and walked up to the center of the ballroom with a young soldier and led the first dance with him through the room.

It was just the two of them, twirling around through the circle cleared by the crowd to a song that started slowly but whose beat grew quicker with each step.

The crowd gathered around them clapped and smiled as she and the soldier made each difficult step with a graceful or clever turn.

Suddenly the mood in the room shifted. The happy carefree atmosphere that had previously been the case seemed to dissolve as a strain of tension erupted.

Elizabeth couldn't see what was going, the dance was too quick now, but in the blur she did a few people shift and murmur uneasily as well as a few nervous looks.

She and her partner were twirling close the crowd now, so close that she could almost feel the body heat coming from them.

Happening so quickly that she missed it, she unexpectedly looked up to find that she had a new dance partner.

People in the crowd were whispering now, confused and a little alarmed. And no wonder, the man she was dancing with now looked like someone who shouldn't have even been allowed through the door.

Black pants, shiny black boots, and a long black coat that trailed down past the knees were hardly the apparel appropriate of this black tie affair. But more than just his clothes, there was something else about the man that didn't quite seem right. It might have had to do with the hungry expression on his face or the cat-like way that he moved. It could have been all these things, but it had to be something else too.

Off to the side somewhere, the young soldier she had been dancing with was scratching his head, confused about what happened. Someone next to him explained that he had been dancing with miss Ensley when the man in black pulled him away and quickly and took his place.

All this had happened without even a disruption in the dance. She was still twirling, but now her hands were interlocked with this stranger's.

She looked at where their hands were joined together. His hands, much bigger than hers or even the soldier's, held hers a little too tightly. She saw a tattoo on the back of his hand. Mesmerized, she drew her gaze up to his face, which was already smiling down at hers.

Of course she immediately recognized him.

The man from all of her performances, who always sat in the front, watching her.

He raised his eyebrows at the surprised expression on her face, as if it humored him, and his eyes shined.

She wanted to confront him, and ask him if he had sent all of the presents she had been receiving, and why he had cut into the dance like this, and what exactly he wanted from her, but they were dancing too fast now.

In fact, they were dancing furiously. Holding on to each other they stepped and twirled so quickly and lightly on their feet that she was sure they must have been floating. Never, not even with her professional partners, had she been able to dance like this before. For the first time she realized that every time she had danced with someone else before she had been holding back. That her partners had held back. But now, finally, she had reached her potential. With this man she was at the peak of her dancing powers.

When the waltz finally ended he asked her to dance with him again. At first she wanted to pull away, leave this nightmare and the headache it was giving her behind, but she knew she couldn't do that. She needed answers.

He smiled when she said yes, and pulled her closer. He kept one of her hands in his, and the other he put around her waist. How dare he act like that? So cocky and assured. It is a goddamn honor to get to dance with me. She thought in a rare moment of conceit.

She cleared her throat more loudly than she had intended to.

"Got something to say?" He said.

"Yes."

He waited patiently for her to go on.

She had to think for a moment where to begin.

"Well?" He said.

Not so patient after all.

She surprised herself by saying the one thing she hadn't considered until this moment.

"You don't look like someone who dances."

"I'm not. I've never danced before in my life."

"You've never danced before in your life? I find that difficult to believe."

"Believe it, sweetheart. I'm not a liar."

"But then how do you do it so well? It was amazing, like nothing I've ever seen…" Her brows drew together in confusion as her voice trailed off.

He spoke quickly, his voice, probably intentionally, pulling her back to the present. Back to him.

"Well, I learned something about myself a long time ago."

"What's that?" She said, sounding almost trusting.

"I'm good at almost everything I do. And with my power and agility, most things you humans find challenging come especially easy to me."

She almost pulled away in disgust. So he was a liar. Or was he really so arrogant that he danced for the first time in front of a crowd of people just because he knew he would be good at it? Either way, she couldn't believe this man.

"Bastard." She muttered under her breath, so quietly she was sure he wouldn't be able to hear.

She was wrong. He threw his head back and laughed.

She noticed that he showed all his teeth when he laughed, and that they were sharp, wicked looking things that made him look like a wolf when he smiled.

The last words he spoke caught up with her. "Wait, what did you mean when you said "you humans"? What are you saying now, that you aren't human?" She said sarcastically.

"Lady…" he started, pulling her closer. But when he did, she turned her head away and scowled. "I'm sorry. My Lady, is it?" He said more softly, bending down so he could speak into her ear. He really was very tall. "You seem like you have a lot of questions. Why don't we go somewhere more comfortable and I'll try to answer them as best I can." His other hand, which had been holding hers, had somehow found its way to her elbow, which he was stroking with his thumb surprisingly gently.

She pulled his hand away. "No thanks. And it's not 'my lady'. I'm not a lady. My name is Elizabeth."

He smiled, showing his pointy teeth again. "Elizabeth." He said, as if she had just handed him a gift.

She stared at him for a moment, this strange man staring down at her, who maybe wasn't a man at all but some sort of monster, but for some reason she found herself saying, "Beth."

"Huh?" He said.

"Just call me Beth."

"Well alrighty then, Beth." Are you sure you don't want to leave with me? We don't have to go to my place, we could go to yours, or a hotel, or a comfortable bench…"

He trailed off after seeing the look on her face. "Hey hey, don't get the wrong idea. I didn't say anything about that. I just want to get to know you better. We can just talk. You can ask me questions long into the night and I'll answer them as best I can…"

"That almost sounds worse. I'm not sure I even want to know anymore. I think I just want you to leave and never speak to me again."

"Well, I can see you must be tired or in a bad mood tonight since my charms aren't working like they almost always do, so how about this? I'll leave you my card."

He held out a shiny black card between two fingers.

She took it hesitantly. There were only three words on it.

THE DEVIL'S NEST

She turned back up to him. "What is this?"

"It's where you can contact me when you are ready. Which I hope won't be too long." He winked at her.

She thought about pointing out that there wasn't even an address on the card, but she decided he might take that as encouragement. And then she was a little insulted. Did he really need to hand her this card? Why couldn't he have just told her? Did he think she was incapable of remembering three measly words? Arrogant, mean-spirited-

"Well okay, doll. I've gotta get going now. I hope I hear from you before you hear from me."

"Is that a threat?" She asked. He was smiling, and he seemed very casual, but she wondered if he were actually dangerous. Should she be worried?

"Nope. It's a promise."

"So it is a threat."

He shrugged. "You sure do like to twist my words. I'm not gonna hurt you. Is that what you mean?"

He didn't wait for her to reply. "Lookin' forward to your next performance, Beth."

With that he kissed her on the hand and left.

Suddenly standing alone in the midst of the crowd, she was aware that people were staring at her.

She straightened her shoulders and started to make her way away. Her manager Errol stopped her on her way out. "Who was that, Elizabeth?

Beth shrugged. "I have no idea. He didn't even give me his name."