Disclaimer: The following is based of characters as developed by Hiromu Arkawa. By no means do I take credit for their creation and/or character development.

Author's notes: Well I'm off on another one shot again. But this time, looking at my notes, it's going to be a few chapters long which I think I'll continue to write and release as long as you guys are reading and enjoying it :D (otherwise…if you guys didn't like it what would be the point? I do it all for you!)

In the Dark

Part 1: Barely Breathing

If it was pleasure Roy wanted, he'd have to chase her in the dark for it. No lights; no touching; no kisses; and she always had to be on top. These were the rules and if he ever wanted to get to heaven he had to comply.

Roy fell back onto the bed, his breath short and his heart pounding. As always, her hands were swift. Hungrily, they ran down his chest, quickly finding the line of restrictive buttons across his crisp, pressed uniform.

He heard the buttons clatter to the floor as, with one smooth motion, she viciously tore past his outer jacket. As she worked her way through his white dress shirt Roy managed to press his wet lips against what he imagined was her cheek. No sooner had he applied slight pressure did she strike him across the face with a closed fist. Instantly, he could feel his jaw grow hot and begin to swell as the blood rushed to the surface of his pale skin.

With a strong hand she grabbed him by the throat and firmly forced him back, flat against the mattress. He coughed. Though she uttered not a word, he knew his place and he dared not advance on her again. For the remainder of their time together he remained still, tightly gripping the sheets. The cold air of the room made his naked skin tighten and prickle.

Suddenly, he let out a loud gasp when, without further foreplay, she drove herself down onto him. His muscular back arched with each violent thrust she gave. She was strong…soft….and so very warm.

As he lost himself in her, his head lolled back over the pillow, while his eye lids fluttered rapidly, tearing. Eventually, he stared off, glassy eyed, into the darkness above him, letting out an orgasmic gasp every now and again.

"What are you doing here? In this place?" The thoughts briefly pushed through the lusty haze in his mind, "Do you think you're somehow getting closer to Maes this way?" However, these questions soon left him with the next rough push.

Then, before Roy knew it, she let go of him as quickly as she had grabbed him at the start. He heard the soft ripples of her skirt as she quickly pulled it back down over her thighs and smoothed it out.

His nostrils flaring and his brain still stuck in a fog, Roy lay naked and still, slowly catching his breath, barely aware of her movements.

Mellow, incandescent light spilled in from the hallway when she opened the door. Roy blinked sedately, his eyes unable to focus in the light. Suddenly, the yellow light was wiped away as the door quickly shut behind her, casting him into darkness once more.

"Maes…" Roy whispered as if a simple whisper could bring him back from the dead.

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(Several years ago…at the military academy…)

Deep in thought, the young fire alchemist bit his lip. Quickly his eyes scanned over the stark, white forms once more. He wasn't checking for completeness so much as he was hesitant to turn them in. Eventually, his eyes came to rest on the thin black loops of his scribbled signature at the end of the last page. He stood there for a prolonged moment, trying to figure out why even the shine of the dark ink reminded him of the smooth, glossy hair of—

"Maes Hughes," the name escaped Roy's lips, hardly audible, "Why, Maes?"

Finally, when the bitter taste of iron began to enter his mouth, he hurriedly, almost with an air of frustration, folded the forms twice and slipped them neatly into an envelope addressed to the General. He dropped it into the mailbox and quickly left the office without looking back even once.

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(A few months later…in Ishbal…)

A sand covered jeep bounced roughly through the desert. Not far behind a small string of trucks and other military jeeps followed, bobbing on the red horizon.

Day dreaming. He had been day dreaming again, his hand subconsciously and rhythmically turning a dull push dagger over and over again. Its edges had long since been worn smooth from wear, but Mustang's fingertips could still make out the thin "MH" that had been etched near the hilt of the blade.

By the time he had realized that the convoy had deviated greatly from the originally planned path, it was too late.

"Colonel," Roy blinked a couple times and looked around, "Where are we going? This is not the planned route, Sir." Swiftly, he slipped the push dagger back up his sleeve.

"I'm very aware of that, Major Mustang," the man sitting next to him in the jeep responded, his back to Roy as he scanned the sand dunes with a pair of binoculars, "We're just taking a slight detour."

"But, Sir," craning his neck, the young alchemist squinted at the distant horizon behind them, "We're very far outside our limits. This is ally territory. We shouldn't be here." He shifted uneasily in his seat. Something was very wrong. This wasn't right.

"Easy now, Major," the colonel chuckled, "Your concern has been noted. However, I know exactly where we are. Besides, we're almost there and this shouldn't take too long. We'll be back at base camp before you know it."

Just as the convoy popped over the next sand dune, it appeared seemingly out of no where. Even from a distance, the rows and rows of dark, steel tower pumps and piping were unmistakable. As they drew closer, it became apparent that small, ordinary houses and sandstone buildings were also scattered about the area.

"Ah there you are, beautiful," the colonel whispered to himself.

Roy's eyes widened, "The oil field...you're after the--"

Automatic gunfire washed out the rest of Mustang's sentence. It wasn't long after when the screams of villagers over rid the gunfire itself.

"Sir," Mustang shouted trying to keep his head down low, "This is not what we were sent here to do! We were ordered to help put down a rebellion on the other side of the border!"

The Colonel ignored him, laughing as the convoy broke travel formation and began to raid the houses and chase down any one who was running.

"I beg of you, Sir, please stop! This is a simple oil mining town in ally territory! They pose no threat! Sir, please stop!"

Filled with an ugly mix of horror and rage, Mustang shot out of his seat and, grabbing the nearest soldier's gun, pulled it down violently causing the soldier's spray of bullets to strike a neighboring truck. The truck jackknifed as the engine caught fire. Unable to maintain its center of gravity it flipped on its side and skidded to rest not far behind the jeep they were in.

Before Mustang could draw his gun and turn around, something dense and blunt him in the back of the head making everything go black.

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"Was this part of your plan, Maes?"

"Who said I had a plan?"

When Mustang came to, the sun was high and blinding. The colonel was standing above him, smiling smugly, his shadow casting long across the major's body. Behind him several pumps creaked eerily in a rhythmic fashion.

The young alchemist groaned and tried to move but he found that his guns and alchemy gloves had been taken and that his hands were tied behind his back as well.

"Major Mustang…the Flame Alchemist," the colonel chuckled darkly and began to circle his prone body, "I'm going to give you one last chance, Major. You can either be with us," he lit a cigarette, "or against us."

Mustang blinked several more times and squinted up at the colonel. Secretly, with a shift of his wrist he slipped out the small silver dagger that had stayed hidden in his sleeve.

"I assure, Major, that it is definitely worth your while if you're with us," the colonel continued to pace, "The future is oil, Major, not steam. We can run this place better than the red-eyes and become heroes, Mustang, saviors of this land. However, if you're against us, you can go down the well with the enemy," he nodded towards the trembling villagers huddled against a nearby wall and surrounded by guards. One bye one, the guards pushed the villagers into the dried up well to the right of the wall.

"So, what's your decision, Mustang?"

For a long moment Roy didn't respond. The push knife was dull and the rope was thick.

Finally, unable to control himself, his shoulders began to tremble.

"Mustang?" Perplexed, the colonel took a step closer.

Suddenly Roy burst out laughing, "I'm sorry, Colonel," Roy gasped taking in a deep breath, trying to stifle his laughter, "You must forgive me for my disrespect, Sir, but do you actually know where we are?"

The colonel scowled and stepped back. "By all means, Major," he puffed his cigarette, "do enlighten us."

"I'm sorry, Sir," Roy cleared his throat, "This is the village of Cronus or more well known as the 'Hollow Land.'" Tickled, Roy chuckled again and shook his head, "If you're looking for oil, Sir, this is not the place. Most of it was sucked dry by industrial contractors years ago. What's left, what these innocent people are living on, are the meager residues of fuel left behind after the contractors had pulled out." As he continued, the colonel's eyes grew wider and wider, filling with a quiet rage, "Why do you think that the field was so easy to take? If there was real money here, Sir, there would have been guards and a stronger resistance. Honestly, Sir—"

The colonel threw his tight fist across the young alchemist's jaw before he could go on further. Only partway through the ropes, Roy concealed the blade back up his sleeve. The colonel then drove his heel into his abdomen over and over, until a sharp, metallic taste entered Roy's mouth.

"I'll take that as a rejection to my offer," the colonel turned his back on the heaving and gasping major. He gestured to two soldiers to drag Roy along behind him, "If that truly is your answer then I'm afraid we have nothing better to do with you than to make an example out of you." The colonel stopped at a large rusted barrel near one of the pumps, "However, if what you say is true, what do you make of this, Mustang?"

With that, the colonel popped open the barrel and kicked it over so that its thick, black contents drained freely into a nearby, dried up water trough. The glistening surface of the oil hardly settled before they had pushed his head under its dark surface. Struggling to bring his head back up again, he kicked and writhed furiously against his half cut bindings. They creaked slightly with the tension but still held fast.

Roy's eyes and throat burned when they finally let him up for air. With his nose but a few millimeters above the dark shining liquid he gagged and sputtered. Eventually, he vomited. What came out was a dark fluid, black.

"Well well," the colonel scoffed letting out thick wisps of cigarette smoke as he spoke, "I do believe that is oil, State Alchemist Mustang. Wouldn't you agree?"

Eyes red and wheezing, Roy turned his head to the side and swore as the oil streamed down his face body. "Fuck you," he spat.

"State alchemists," the colonel chuckled, "you know I've always hated you all. You all think you're so important…that you're so much better than the rest of the military. You think you can save everyone with your stupid alchemy circles."

"Damn it, Maes!" Roy's past frustration at the academy echoed in his mind, "I can't do this! These alchemy circles aren't making any sense to me! I think I'll just settle to become a paper pusher like you."

"Oh come on, Roy," Maes had answered. All cadets had been required to take the entry level alchemy in order to understand its basic nature. Unlike Roy, Maes seemed to be a natural at the basic circles though this understanding fell off considerably for Hughes in the upper level classes, "You've done harder things than this before when you were with old man Hawkeye, yeah? I think you're just over complicating things. This is just a simple reorganization circle. It's just a shifting around of material. There's not even any chemical reformation involved. I mean I did it and I definitely know I'm not state alchemist material. So you should be able to do it too. I believe in you."

Roy's eyes widened. They had caught site of a network of special, silver piping behind the colonel.

"Wait! Wait!" He managed to wheeze out. Somehow, in his slight struggle, he managed to hook his leg around one of the soldiers holding him. Losing his balance, the solider lost his grip on Roy, causing him to drop Mustang to the ground beside the rusty trough. "You know they'll come looking for me, Colonel!" He shouted rolling over onto his back, concealing the quick actions of his hands again, "Especially because I am a State Alchemist."

"Hehehehe," the colonel laughed darkly, "That maybe, Mustang, but," he grabbed Roy by the collar, "but when we're done with you, they won't even recognize you. I'll just be report MIA."

With that he slammed Roy's head back under the black oil. The young alchemist struggled violently against his bindings still unable to break them.

Just when his air bubbles in the oil began to subside, Roy felt the ropes finally snap and give. Whipping out the push dagger, he swung his arm up and out, dragging across something soft and delicate. Though his head was submerged in thick liquid, he could hear an immediate scream of agony. Suddenly, the colonel released him.

Wiping the oil from his face with his sleeve, Mustang caught site of the Colonel cupping his left eye with his hand. Streams of crimson flowed out from between his fingers as he flailed around.

Push knife in between his fingers, Roy hit the soldier closest to him before the soldier could ready his automatic gun. The soldier let out a small shout, as the short blade sunk into him. With a quick, combative flourish, he threw the soldier several feet back, colliding him with his fellows.

Thinking fast, Mustang kicked over the trough full of oil and dove behind it before they started firing their guns at him. When the ricochet of the bullets subsided for a moment, Roy, as quick as he could, made a break for the network of pipes and pumps he had spied earlier.

As soon as he popped up, the soldiers began to fire at him again. However, only a few wild rounds had been discharged before the Colonel shouted, "Stop! Stop firing you idiots! You hit the pipelines you compromise us all!"

Still dripping in oil, and gasping for air, Roy collapsed behind one of the large, silver pipes. After a brief moment he propped himself up and quickly dragged the dull dagger point across the pipe in a regular, familiar pattern. He then bit his lip and tried not to scream as he pressed the blade against his own hand.

Before the colonel could call out to Roy, the shining silver pipes suddenly contorted into an odd shape. As the material bent around, large holes burst through the sides of the pipe releasing its clear, odorless contents. The air quivered in the sun as the gas hissed out into the open air.

"A reorganization transmutation," the colonel recognized the basic alchemy, "Damn alchemist. Natural gas often accompanies oil deposits below ground. Very clever of you to disrupt it's pipeline to fill this area with natural gas. Now we can't fire our guns without blowing us all to kingdom come. But, alchemist, you forgot one thing."

"And what's that?" All of the sudden, Roy jumped out and blindsided the Colonel, knocking the older officer to the ground.

Looking up at the young alchemist, the colonel couldn't help but laugh. Mustang, was standing above him, his hand out stretched with his fingers together as if to suggest he may snap them at any moment. On the back of his outstretched hand, were several deep cuts, sliced in such a way to mimic the flame alchemy circles usually found on the back of his gloves.

"You forgot that you can't do anything if you can't make a spark. Without you're alchemy gloves you're useless. We may not be able to fire our guns, but, look at you. You're covered in oil. You're still gasping for air. You're weak! And we can still take you down!"

With that, the colonel lunged at Roy, upper cutting him. After a few quick jabs to his ribs and across his face, Mustang was on the ground again. Nevertheless, the young alchemist kept his hand in the snapping position.

He held out his hand towards the colonel again and smiled his swollen lips, "But I don't have to make a spark, Colonel," he opened his hand to expose the smoldering cigarette that he had plucked from the Colonel's lips when he had blindsided him earlier, "once I snap my fingers I disperse the hot embers into the air and then all I have to do is alter the air densities and currents around it to make it burn!"

"No," the colonel gasped, "you wouldn't! You'll kill us all. Even yourself!"

Roy smiled, his fingers twitched.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" The colonel screamed as Mustang snapped his fingers.

Additional notes: I'll have to admit that since I haven't written action in a while it was harder to write this time. Anyways, stay tuned for the next chapter! (well…if you guys like it…) So let me know what you think!