Chapter 1 – In which a dress is not included

Edward had had his fair share of undercover missions. When he was younger it was one the two Colonel, then Lieutenant Colonel Mustang, had allowed him to do for a year. And despite the success of his first mission, an inspection of the Youswell coal mines, Mustang had him stay in East City for most of his first year of service helping the local police. He went undercover a lot; he did not have that severe persona that the cops tended to have circle them and it was common for people to glance over him – cuz of his age and not height dammit!- so it was easy for him to get in and out of places to get information with out drawing attention.

Even after Mustang started sending him off for missions, Ed made a point of helping the police when he was in East City. Having spent a year working with the force, they were all on friendly terms – despite the numerous dresses the officers had forced on Ed.

Oh yes, being young and lacking the harsh masculine features the rest of the police force had made him the prime choice for missions where a female role was needed. That, and his long hair. His first week at the station he had everyone from the police chief to the academy cadet who worked as an errand boy touch his hair in passing. And then here was Rodgers who had grabbed his braid as he went by, removing the band and causing his plait to come undone. He had been swarmed in a heartbeat; everyone wanted to run his hands through at least once. Ed had fumed and fussed, spewing like a drenched cat, but Rick had managed to handcuff him to Rodgers' chair while he had his moment of shock at the mass amount of touching.

It did not help that Rick's girlfriend, Cloé, was there either. She played with his hair for an entire thirty minutes and then proceeded to paint his face with the travel make-up kit in her purse. He steamed the entire time, glaring daggers at the men around him and pitiful 'help me' looks at Al. All his brother did was snicker behind a gauntlet.

When Cloé was done he had expected laughs and blackmail pictures to be taken, but all he got was smiles that soon faded to thoughtful expressions. He looked around in confusion until Justin Chambers, the police chief, voiced what everyone was thinking.

"You know Edward, you make a really cute girl. I think I have the perfect mission for you."

Ed shot him a dark glare, not liking the look in the chief's eyes. It reminded him of the look Teacher had before each lesson.

"Okay fellows, make sure I get a picture of this. Oh, and make sure he promises not to beat you all up before taking those hand cuffs off."

And then came the flashes and guffaws - Carl, the academy cadet would still let loose a cat call if they met in the street or when he stopped by for a quick visit. Only the promise of a week of free steak dinners, desert included, pacified him enough to get the handcuffs off. And even then Rodgers and Carl went home with bruises; Rick had two.

Of course the meat week had to wait until after his mission, one that Mustang gave him no choice but to accept. There was still a photograph of Ed in that café maid's outfit on Chambers' wall. And while he had not found it, Ed just knew there was a hidden file somewhere in the station containing pictures of every time he had been forced into a similar situation.

Ed really wanted to cut his hair after that to prevent a similar mission. But Al had let slip his plans to Winry and she promised to make his automail so heavy he would not be able to grow a millimeter if he did. So his hair stayed long and the number of times he had dressed as the opposite gender exceeded his number of fingers in that first year alone. That hidden file must be really thick by now.

Thankfully, this was not one of those missions. Nor did he have to be made up to look older or younger. The cops at the station just wanted him to look different than his normal appearance. So Cloé - who had been unofficially in charge of his mission appearance since the handcuff issue and who now spotted a ring to show her position as Rick's wife - had him don a pair of khakis and a dark green turtle neck. She had also lent him a pair of tinted contact lenses that turned his eyes a light hazel and pulled his hair back into a low pony.

"Now Edward, you remember what we want you to do?"

"Yeah yeah," he gave a lopsided wave to Chambers. "Act like a normal kid and see if I can get anything on the missing money. Nothing hard, I've been doing this for years remember."

"Yeah, but we all know that your temper can get in the way of a simple mission and make more work for us. Behave this time, okay?" He shook a finger at Ed.

"I'll try, but no promises."

"Mr. Elric!" Ed turned to see the newest member of the station walk into the office area. Henry was a good kid, but he still could not bring himself to called the alchemist by his first name.

"Geez, Henry. Call me Ed, like everyone else around here."

"S-sorry."

"It's alright. What's up?"

"Someone from the military dropped this off for you." He held out a small black box.

"Thanks Henry." Ed opened it to find a silver stud and bobby pin, transmitter and microphone. While the military had the best in technology not on the black market, Ed would still only be able to participate in one way conversations. The bobby pin could only pick up normal voice levels, and Ed did not want people to see him talking to himself. But he would still be able to hear any instructions.

It was rather rare that the military provided more than personal for these types of missions, and those were usually in the form of Ed. But while this case had only recently come to the attention of the police, there was evidence it had been going on for quite a while. The ability of the criminal to get away with it for so long, with no evidence of it was something that caused the military to be a little concerned.

In fact no one was even aware that there was a crime going on until the discrepancies stopped. Mr. Beck had noticed money missing from his textile shop one day. Not being able to account for it, he had figured it was a personal error. He was not young any more. But when he was filling out his yearly tax forms he noticed that those weeks were he was short were far more in number than the previous year. Mr. Beck had fired his only employee based on his suspicions and instead hired a relative who had been looking for work. When the same issue of missing money was made apparent a year later doing tax forms again, he had found it was a repeat of the previous year. The store owner had reported his findings to the station, who advised him to keep a daily tab on the money. Since the report had been filled two months ago, Mr. Beck had found all the money accounted for.

It was Rodgers who found out things were bigger than they looked. After looking at the accounting records for the past two years from the store he had discovered that weeks where money was missing occurred on a regular basis, every seven weeks. Since Mr. Beck had not noticed any missing money since the file was first opened, someone had known that the elderly man went to the police and had stopped taking money from the till. After asking around it turned out six stores in East City had a similar issue, but they had all put it down to personal error. Looking closely each store had been hit every seven weeks and it was easy to see why the owners had not thought too much of the times when money disappeared, it was never more than four dollars. (1)

It certainly was troubling that the money had been slipping through the cracks for this long, two years at least, with out anyone being aware of it. But the amount missing was nothing too major; anything that was of public concern was going to cost more than sixteen dollars a month. It was the amount though that a child or down on his luck citizen might go after.

When Ed stopped at East City for a night before catching a layover train the police force jumped him asking for help. A quick call to Central gave him a till Monday to work with ECPD, Mustang was out of the office till then so Hawkeye said it would be okay for him help out.

"Do you know where the center is?" Chambers asked.

Ed handed the bobby pin to Cloé and stuck the false earring on. "The teen center? It's just on Arbra, about a block down from City Hall right?"

The police chief nodded. "It's called an 'open night' tonight. The kids can use the gym and any of the games they have. I think there is a pool and ping pong table too."

"Sounds like fun."

He got a bonk in the back of the head from Rodgers. "This is work Ed, not play time."

"Yeah, I know. Anyone in particular you want me to watch?"

Chambers crossed an arm over his stomach and used it as a support for the other one, which he moved to cup his chin.

"Kids who are wearing old looking clothes, who might need money."

"Gotcha. Well then, I'm off!" Ed made for the door.

"Hey wait!" Carl's voice stopped him. "Where's your brother? He beat me pretty badly last time and I want to return the favor."

Ed shook his head, turning to face Carl with a hand on his hips. "As soon as we stepped off the train he saw a lost cat poster so he went out looking for it. But he said he'ld stop by before I'm done."

Carl shook his head knowingly. "Typical."

"Yeah, I know. But what can I do about it?" Ed shrugged, opening the door.

"Keep in touch!" he tapped his 'earring' and left with a smile.

A/N: I was planning to write a one-shot, not wanting something really long to think about because I already have two in my head and one for Kingdom Hearts that I update monthly. But after four pages I released that the plot I had formed in my head just grew and grew into this crazy thing! Hopefully you all like it. Review and let me know please!

I kinda want to draw Ed handcuffed to a chair and being petted ^_^. Maybe someday, when my writing muse leaves and my visual one comes back.

(1) I know four dollar's doesn't seem like much, but think of the times. I have Ed at the ripe age of 15 in this story, meaning the year is 1916. And in 1916 here in the States, 25 cents could by three cans of beans, a dollar could by a girl's dress, 15 cents could get you a book, and a new set of rollar blades would only put you back a dollar.