Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money off of this.

Author's Notes: Written for Het Challenge 2006, the prompt 'I like a lady with a gun'.

Smokes, Sex and Steel

Ah, freedom! Greed stretched, enjoying the open air and the cool night wind of Central. One hundred and fifty years locked away in that damn pit and he was finally free. It was a glorious feeling. He'd almost forgotten what the outside world looked like. From where he was standing, it looked pretty damn good.

The first thing he'd done - after he'd settled in the prisoners from lab five - was to buy a pack of cigarettes. There was nothing like that first drag of smoke. Then he'd had a drink. That was freedom. Walking into a bar and having a glass of whiskey while smoking a fine cigarette.

He needed to figure out what he was going to do now. He had a group of human chimeras and a renegade State Alchemist. Well, two State Alchemists if he counted dog-boy. Kimbly scared him, he wasn't afraid to admit that, but the man was damn useful. Greed wasn't about to let a resource go wandering around wasted. He'd have to find a base of operations of sorts. Somewhere the others couldn't find him.

He wandered the streets contemplating his next move. He had an idea of where to go, and that was better than nothing.

Ahead of him, Greed saw a woman. Now that was a sight for sore eyes. Even from behind he could tell she had a body to die for. Her long skirt was snug, showing off a high and firm rear. Her sweater clung to her narrow waist and her broad shoulders. Greed watched happily, realizing it had been over a century since he last had a woman. That was a damn shame, he decided.

He was content to follow the woman in front of him, enjoying the view. He was probably just torturing himself, but a man had needs. And one of those needs was to look at a pretty woman. He wondered what she was doing out so late and by herself. There were all sorts of scoundrels crawling the city that would take advantage of a pretty woman all by herself.

Greed soon had the answer to his question. Without warning, the woman spun on her heel and pointed a rather mean looking gun directly between his eyes.

"Freeze!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Greed threw up his hands, his cigarette dangling from his lips. "Hey, no need for the firepower!"

"Why are you following me?" What a voice! What a face! If she hadn't been pointing a gun at him, Greed would have been in heaven. She sounded like steel and she looked like sex on legs. Hell, even the gun was pretty damn hot.

"Why does any guy follow a beautiful lady?" Greed asked, grinning. It wasn't like she could hurt him. But it was still damn disconcerting to have a gun pointed at him.

"I would advise not following me any longer."

"Guess that means a date is out of the question, huh?" Greed dropped his hands and took his cigarette out of his mouth.

"Excuse me?" The gun stayed pointed at him.

"Just joking!" She was a real live wire, wasn't she? She had some amazing eyes.

"Your sense of humor is lacking." The gun dropped finally.

"I'm a little rusty," Greed admitted. "Come on, let me make up for scaring you. I'll buy you a drink."

"You didn't frighten me. I am more than capable of defending myself."

"I can see that." Greed looked pointedly at the gun. "So… where do you want to go for that drink?"

"Excuse me?"

"You didn't actually say 'no'." It was all coming back to him. He'd always been a ladies man, even though it had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion. He couldn't help it - it was just part of his nature.

"Nor did I say 'yes'," the gun wielding woman reminded him.

"Eh, technicalities. You got a name, beautiful?"

"Hawkeye. Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"A military girl, I like that." Greed had always been attracted to strong women. Another one of those traits that tended to get him into trouble. His grin only widened, the shadows of the night hiding his unusually sharp teeth.

"I suggest you cease these attempts at flirtations and go home."

"What would be the fun in that?" Greed laughed. "Come on, just a drink. You're not on duty, are you?"

"I am not on duty." She seemed to only be addressing the bits of conversation that she wanted to.

"So what's the big deal? I don't bite."

Greed waited, patiently, while the lieutenant stared at him. He hoped she was at least thinking it over. He couldn't think of a better way to spend his first night of freedom than with a gorgeous woman.

"Just a drink?" Was her response, one gold eyebrow arched.

"On my honor!" Greed held up his hand in a formal salute of honesty.

"I'm afraid you don't strike me as the most honorable of men," the lieutenant said, but Greed swore he noticed a hint of amusement in her voice. Women loved him. He'd always had a certain way with them and he was convinced that no woman was impervious to his charm. Not even gun toting military babes.

"Everybody's got honor," Greed said with a shrug. "Some of us have a little more, some of us have a little less; but we've all got it. A man who's got no honor, well that's a man who just doesn't have a soul."

"Indeed?" The lieutenant did sound amused at least. "That's quite philosophical."

"You like philosophy? 'Cause I've got more where that came from."

Her raised eyebrows told him that he was pushing his luck. He held up his hands in mock submission. "So. About that drink?"

"One drink." The lieutenant said, nodding briskly. Greed grinned and offered her his arm. She ignored him, brushing by him to take the lead. Greed only grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets as he followed after her.

"I take it you know a good bar?" he asked.

"I do." And that seemed to be all that Greed was going to get out of her. So she wasn't big on conversation, he could handle that. Besides, it wasn't exactly conversation he was looking for.

She led him to a small bar, unremarkable and cleaner than the ones he tended to favor. He expected her to pick a table but she went right to the bar. Greed grinned. This was his kind of woman!

"I'll have a whiskey," Greed said, joining the lieutenant at the bar. She'd ordered a gin and tonic, another point in her favor. No pastel colored lady's drink for her, apparently.

"So…"

"I agreed to a drink," she said, a hint of a smile at her lips. "Not conversation."

"Has anyone ever told you that you've got a wicked way with words?" Greed chuckled and leaned on the bar, watching her as she took a sip of her drink.

"Not in those words," she said with a shrug. "Has anyone ever told you that your attempts to be charming aren't?"

"Nope, can't say anyone ever has."

"Then count this as a first."

Ow. Greed shook his head. Trust him to find a beautiful woman who had it in for charming, handsome men. That was just his luck.

"So I take it the chances of me going home with you are pretty slim, huh?" He figured he should just cut to the chase and save them both the time.

"I wouldn't say slim," the lieutenant said, and Greed grinned. "I'd say they were non-existent."

"You're killing me here." Greed knocked back his drink, still not dissuaded. The harder the challenge the sweeter the reward and all of that.

"I'm not in the habit of bringing home strange men. I don't even know your name."

"So if I tell me your name I've got a chance?" He tried his most charming smile.

"No."

"You are one harsh woman. They call me Greed, by the way." He held out his hand.

"Greed? Do I even want to ask how you ended up with that nickname?" She looked at his hand for a moment before taking it and shaking it firmly. She had a damn firm handshake.

"What can I say?" Greed shrugged. "I want it all."

"Really?"

"Who wouldn't? I want money, I want fame, I want everything life's got to offer. What's the point of life if you don't live it to the fullest? What's life without all the stuff that makes it worth living?"

She looked at him, her dark eyes looking either amused or disgusted. Greed couldn't really tell in the dim light. But she didn't answer other than to shake her head and return to her drink.

"Hey, come on, I've got a point," Greed protested. "Life isn't life without the soft stuff."

"I'd think that a life defined by things would be an empty life."

"How's it empty?" Wasn't she listening?

"Things are just things." Apparently that was supposed to be all the explanation that Greed needed. Of course they were things, but things were nice.

"Well, I like my things. Gotta have something to want to hold on to, you know? Something to make you want to get up in the morning."

"There are more important things to hold onto than things." Hawkeye glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Geeze, had there been some sort of religious reformation while he was gone?

"Try telling that to a bunch of old dead kings," Greed pointed out. "Those guys knew what was what. They had these giant temples built to be buried in, and all of their stuff was in there with them so they'd have it in the afterlife. All of it. Now I'm not a religious man, but that's a philosophy I can get behind."

"And all of those old dead kings are, as you pointed out, dead. Wherever they've gone, I don't think they have any of their things."

"You don't know that. Maybe they do." Greed shrugged and ordered another drink. "Maybe they're living it up on the other side in their palaces with all their harem girls and their treasure. And that's an afterlife I can live with. But you don't get a rich afterlife without a rich life."

"Most people believe that in order to be rewarded in the next life, they need a richness of spirit instead of a richness of wealth."

"Sweetheart, I'm not most people."

Richness of spirit! Ha! What did that ever get anybody? Greed grinned and shifted on his barstool, dropping one arm casually about the lieutenant's shoulders. He knew there was a damn good chance she was going to slap him, but what was life without a few risks?

"I realize that." Hawkeye turned and looked at him - she was really good at looking at people, Greed decided. But she wasn't slapping him or shoving him off, that was a good sign.

He dropped a hand to her thigh, his body language warning off what other men in the place may have been looking at her. Oh yeah, he was going home with her tonight. He could feel it. She kept sipping at her drink, unbothered by him. He took it as a sign. Women were all about signs. They never came out and said what they wanted, but that was okay. Greed knew all about what they wanted. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Hawkeye's ear. She smelled like gunpowder and metal. No flowery perfumes or lotions for this lady. Greed grinned, excited already. Her thigh under his hand was warm and she smelled so damn good - well maybe not good but she smelled sexy - and everything was coming back to him now. The way a woman felt, tasted, the sounds that they made…. Greed's hand tightened on Hawkeye's thigh and he took the curve of her ear between his teeth. She tasted like steel. She was one in a million, that was for damn sure. And Greed figured he'd be okay without money and fame for a little while, if he could just have this woman.

"So how about you and me get out of here, go somewhere a little more private?" The words were supposed to be smooth, suave. But they stuck in Greed's throat. They came out labored and ragged, stumbling against the metallic scented slope of Hawkeye's neck. Who cared about things or spirit or the afterlife or dead kings now? Women were worth more than all of that, and this woman; she was a fucking diamond.

"I have work in the morning." And now she slipped out of his embrace, sliding away from him on oiled bearings. She was on her feet, already placing down money for her drink. His hand was on an empty bar stool, his mouth was pressed against nothing but air.

"But…" Greed tired to protest, to talk around the lingering taste of skin and gunpowder in his mouth, to plead his case with her and charm him into his bed because he wanted her and wanted to find out if all of her tasted like gunpowder and steel…

But she was already gone.