The Heist

AN: Hey guys, just in case you're checking in this chapter all confused. I've decided to revamp the previous two chapters I had written previously, because now that I've created an outline for the entire story, there were changes I needed to make in order for things to work out.

Main changes for chapter 2:

• first scene is Ling and Lan Fan introducing themselves to each other (previously the last scene in Ch1); this scene also had some extended parts
• the scene with Mustang and Hawkeye arranging a loan is completely rewritten

The girl above him propelled herself up and backwards, almost as if bitten. The lights came back on full power, the three minutes he'd allotted for her test finally up. He blinked as the memory of her ashen and bloody and grime-stained face flashed in his mind, then the sudden guilt. He clambered to his feet, brushing himself off. For the first time since he could remember, he was quite speechless.

The girl stared back at him, wide-eyed. It was difficult to read her expression, but whatever it was reflecting on her face – surprise, anxiety – it was obvious she didn't want to be there. He hadn't recognized her at first. Not at all. Given the fact that during the only time they'd spent, she'd been bloody and disheveled, it wasn't that surprising. Now, she stood there looking like a normal teenager.

As normal as teenagers went with one arm.

He cleared his throat. "Well," he began, still trying to let his brain catch up. "You're certainly fit for the job."

Her eyes went even bigger. "You're my employer?"

"The name's Ling Yao. I told Ed not to release my name, because... you'll find some stuff about me online, and I sort of wanted a clean slate." He cleared his throat again. "Though I see it's too late for that."

She began shaking her head as she started to move back towards the door. "I'm... I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't accept this job." Then she tucked her chin down, opening the door.

"Wait!" Ling rushed after her, grabbing her by her arm. "Hold on! You haven't heard my proposition yet." She stopped and looked back at him.

"I don't think it's a wise idea that I work for you."

"Why not?" he persisted. "Look, name your price. I promise I'll deliver."

Lan Fan. Ed relayed her name to him just a couple of hours ago. So she was Lan Fan. He'd searched for the sewer-girl quite actively for months after the Operation Greed. He wanted, in some way, in any way, to make up for what happened to her.

"Sorry," she said, and she looked like she meant it. Seemed like she had actually been looking forward to the job. "I truly am, but I think you should find someone else."

"Why?" he asked, but he knew why. "Look, I know you blame me for... for that." He pointed at her lifeless left sleeve. "But please. I never got a chance to explain. I never even got a chance to help you."

"Help me?" she interrupted. "You saved my life!"

"No, you don't understand!" He took the cuff of the sleeve, making her flinch, but at least she didn't remove herself from his hold. "This would have never happened if it weren't for me."

She frowned. "You think that explosion was your fault?"

He nodded.

"How?"

Ling sighed and released her. "Look. It has to do with the job offer. I can't tell you if you're not taking the job."

Lan Fan blinked at him, taking a moment to evaluate her situation. Then she nodded. "Right. It's only fair. You don't have to tell me. I'm leaving." She went out to the hallway.

"A million!" he called out to her.

That stopped her dead in her tracks. Slowly, hesitantly, she turned back to him. "A million what?"

"A million sens. That's my base offer for your services."

She looked at him as if he'd thrown up a pink unicorn. "A million?"

"And I can get you prosthesis," he added. "It might be helpful in your line of work."

"The absence of my left arm had never hindered me," she said and there was a small glint of pride behind the frown she sent him.

"No, I don't think so," Ling admitted. Their fight minutes ago definitely proved that. "But just say the word, and I will get you hooked up with a really good doctor. I know this guy, Dr. Marcoh, and he's so kind and generous he'd do any kind of work, sometimes even for free. Look, actually, you don't even have to take the job for this. Let me do this for you!"

"You don't owe me anything," she said, and she squared her shoulders, looking at him intently. "You already saved my life. I don't know why you think that whole thing was your fault, but if it makes you feel better, I don't blame you. I never did. You don't have to do me favours."

"So what you're saying," Ling began again. "Is that we're on a clean slate."

"Clean."

"Then you'd understand that I'm still interested in hiring you, because regardless of explosions and sewage-trips and whatnot, I can still use someone with your skill set."

"You did pretty well yourself back there," she said, nodding in the direction of the circular study.

"Yes, but there's an advantage of having someone watch your back for you. It's not like I can defend myself while I'm eating or while I'm in the bathroom–"

"You want me to defend you while you're in the bathroom?" she asked, eyes suspicious and incredulous.

Ling sighed. He hadn't imagined that it would be this difficult to bargain with a potential employee, especially when he hadn't even begun relating the job description. He'd anticipated some hesitations against the job, because gee... it wasn't even really legal (almost, they'd slip by), which was why he couldn't really reveal any information unless Lan Fan first agreed to take him up.

"How about two million?" he suggested.

"I don't want that much money," she said. Ling expected that. When he first got the Elric brothers on board with Operation Greed, they hadn't wanted his money either.

"How about an all you can eat buffet?" he added, sweetening his tone. "Which part of Xing did you hail from? You look like you could have been from the southwest–"

"Tong Hua actually," she interjected. "Satellite state."

"Perfect! I know just the place!"

"I'm tempted, but no."

"How about my first kiss?" he leaned towards her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. She made a face. Clearly she wasn't impressed, and Ling pulled back, scratching his brain for more bribes.

"Look," she began, her right hand reaching out to play with her left sleeve. "All I need to know right now is for how long it would be and how risky it is."

Ling whistled. At least she was contemplating about it now. "I need a bodyguard 24/7, effective immediately, which means if you agree to it, you'll be starting right now. It could take as long as one to two months. As for risks... right now that is very difficult to calculate, because the job is still in its planning stages. Part of your job is to help me plan. So if you agree to work for me, you'd also get to determine some of the risks you can take. Though if you want a rough estimate, it could mean anything from a few scratches to a lifetime in prison to a few dead."

Lan Fan bit her lip, clearly weighing her options.

"I provide food and accommodations," he continued. "You'll need to live here with me and Mom, and if I go anywhere you have to come with me. That mostly means school and the occasional restaurant. And of course, trips to... places related to the job. If you're worried about family, let me know and I'll set them up somewhere safe."

"Accessible?"

"Anytime."

She began to nod appreciatively. Ling gave her a few minutes to make up her mind. If he started to push more reasons on her, she'll just sense his desperation and might turn him down.

Finally, she spoke. "My grandfather needs medical attention."

"I can provide that too."

She nodded. "Okay. I'll do it."

He smiled. He knew he could rely on Ed!

"Alright, come this way," he said, walking briskly down the hallway. "To start this all off, you need to know about my family. You might know my father as Henry Chu."

"The Henry Chu?" she exclaimed, in sync with his steps. "Of 7-11?" She stopped walking all of a sudden, eying him with the largest wide-eyed stare he had ever been given.

Ling cringed. He knew this was coming. It was exactly why he'd asked Ed to withhold mentioning his name to the potential hire. Everyone knew Henry Chu. Some admired him. Some, like Ling, preferred to think the world a better place without the businessman. Most people, however, just wanted to stay out of his way.

"That's right. Which is why I didn't want my name revealed right away. I didn't want my father influencing your decision to come."

"Influence?" she backtracked her steps, and Ling's heart began to pound with nervousness, watching the way her face contorted into disgust. "Henry Chu is an occupational hazard!"

Ling lifted both of his hands in an attempt to pacify her obvious growing panic.

"Hey, yes, I know that," he said. He didn't know quite what to do if she ended up walking out on him after all, especially now that she knew that the job had to do with his father. With 7-11. Just a small piece of knowledge like that could get someone in deep trouble. "But to be totally honest with you, this job is chock-full of occupational hazards, with Henry Chu or not."

She ran her only hand through her hair, looking away into the distance. All of a sudden it seemed as if the risks he had described earlier fell on her in a completely different light.

"What bothers you more?" Ling said, wanting to get something straight. "That this is about Chu, or that I am his son?"

She paused, then laughed bitterly, as if he had to ask.

He straightened his back, feeling all the weight of the man's name on him.

"I don't know what issues you have with my father and I'm not going to ask, but if you're like the rest of the people I know, he's probably done you or someone you know wrong. So let's just say that we're starting on similar footing. Whatever you think you know about my father, trust me that I know more." She gave him a doubtful glance, which made him curious, but he brushed it off for now. Now, he needed her on his side.

He sighed, stepping closer to her. This was his biggest bargaining chip.

"As your employer, I take full responsibility in protecting you at all costs. It will be my head before yours, before your family," he said, and he meant it. It had always been his deal with everyone who worked with him. "Please, stay."

She was quiet for while, and his words echoed in his head, replaying as if they wanted to bind him to his death oath over and over. Then finally, she shut her eyes and shook her head, muttering "I'm going to regret this" under her breath, but when she looked back to him, her eyes were full of solid determination that had not been there before, even when she had initially agreed. Had he stricken a chord?

"I'm still in," she said.

He smiled at her, though she didn't quite return it. It didn't matter. He began his walk down the hallway again, making sure she followed.

"So, you already know that I have some qualms about 7-11. My father gets away with a ton of crap that normal people wouldn't. With many politicians as some of his biggest clients, it's in the interest of the government to keep his dealings on the down low. Remember the weapons used during the Sanitary Movement? Funded by my Dad. Now, you want to know about the explosion?" he looked back at her, and she gave him a resolute nod.

"A couple of years ago, I made a plan to reveal the kind of business my father engages in. The first step was to taint the name of his business by showing he was funding illegal drug imports. The Dealers Guild was one of the largest groups in the business of illegal drug trade, and they catered to some of the most trusted and adored names in pop culture.

"Now my father never gives money away without insurance. He calls this The Collateral. He agreed to loan five million sens to the Dealers Guild in exchange for a list of all their transactions with anyone who had ever conducted business with them, drug purchases or otherwise. This was easy, because the guild had a list anyway. All I had to do, at least I thought at the time, was to steal this book, prove that my father had transacted with them, and boom, down goes 7-11.

"It was myopic," he said, pausing to open the door to his bedroom, remembering Shai's blank eyes. She stopped at the doorway, however, and began to eye his bed with obvious precaution.

"What?" he asked. "I have a secret study on the other side."

"Mhmm," she grunted and eyed him cautiously, but didn't take a step in.

"Hey, I'm no lech!" he put his hands up in mock surrender. "I swear! I've only been on like two dates." She gave him an expressive look that could have said either I can see why, or Then you must be desperate.

"My mother's coming in a few minutes," he assured her. "And I promise you, she'd slap me inside and out if I do anything that is remotely... unprogressive."

"Your mother..." Lan Fan began. "She lets you interfere with her husband's business?"

"Oh, my father is not her husband. Not anymore. And of course she lets me. Some of the ideas had been hers actually, though she'd never lift a finger herself."

Lan Fan frowned at this, surely thinking that his familial unit was quite strange. Sometimes he thought so too. She finally went in, and he led her to the walk-in closet sitting at the opposite side of the room.

"Anyway, so what happened was that on the night they were going to trade The Collateral with the five million sens, I installed someone to intercept the notebook."

"Why couldn't you have stolen the notebook before they were to meet with your father?" she asked, as Ling moved a shelf out of the way, revealing another passage from inside the closet.

"It's not easy to lure out the Guild. Less so to lure them out and have the notebook out in the open. I figured I'd let my father do that job for me, but it turned out to be the fatal mistake. See, after the notebook was stolen, my father didn't see any point in doing business with them anymore. The Collateral was gone. The Guild had dispersed to try and catch Shai. The entire deal was in a state of disarray, and my father thought his business and reputation was on the line."

"So he had them killed?"

Ling paused. "Yes, at least, that's the most logical thing I can come up with to explain the events. Half the guild died when the bomb went off. And remember those men who were chasing us?"

Lan Fan nodded grimly.

"They were the other half of the Guild. But after I gave you to Hawkeye, I received news that they too were dead."

"And your father?"

"He wasn't even mentioned in the book," Ling admitted angrily. It had been his blind spot. He'd assumed that the Guild would have written their agreement with his father down before the trade occurred.

"Now you want to come up with a new plan to collapse your father's business?"

"That's exactly right."

They had now stopped at the end of the short, narrow hallway. The floor was still carpeted here, and there were pretty lamps lining the walls. Ling had never thought it felt like a secret passageway or anything. If his room hadn't been built directly to block it, it could have been just a small hallway. But that was the good thing about being inconspicuous.

"But wait!" she exclaimed. "If he's your father, what's stopping him from showing up here tonight or whenever, and finding out about this? As a matter of fact, I'm surprised he hasn't found out about what you've been up to all this time!"

"Hah! No need for surprise," Ling said. "He barely acknowledges my existence. The man had spawned twenty other kids, and counting. Classic case of shoot-and-scoot. Trust me, I'm more likely to come across a half-sibling than to come across my own father."

"So... this," Lan Fan gestured around them in a wide, vague wave. "This isn't your father's? The property I mean?"

"No," Ling said. "It's Mom's. Just because she isn't as well known as Dad doesn't mean she doesn't do well enough on her own."

"Interesting," she mumbled.

"It is. And wait till you meet Mom. I've a feeling she'll like you. She likes girls in general. Her biggest regret with my father was not the headache and the financial disaster, but that she never got a daughter out of her only marriage." Ling laughed when Lan Fan made an uncomfortable face.

"Anyway, what's going to happen now?"

"Well this is where you come in." Ling typed the passcode on the door at the end of the hallway. He turned the knob, and showed her in. "Say hello to Operation Greed 2.0."

-o-

Riza eyed the the graying clouds through the car's windshield. Beside her, the colonel shifted in his seat, fiddling with his gloves. He put them on, then took them off. He wiggled his hand and then put the glove back on.

He was fidgeting. She rarely saw him fidget. But she guessed that he had a right to be fidgeting this time around. It had been three hours since Falman disappeared into the building looming over their car, and there was no sign of when he would come out. Riza found herself tracing the outlines of her gun. Here's to hoping that Falman would come out.

Mustang cleared his throat. "You know, if we're supposed to be here, as an ordinary man and woman sharing a car in a parking lot, don't you think we ought to be a bit more convincing?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

He gave her a meaningful glance. "Getting rid of that 'sir,' would be one thing."

Riza cleared her throat. The colonel could be so... what's the word she was looking for? Untimely?

"But we are here on business, sir," she explained, and he merely raised one eyebrow to question whether they were, indeed, here on business. She shrugged, eyes drifting to the clear pouch on the dashboard where her and Mustang's military badges were stored. It really was quite difficult to say on what grounds they were here, outside of XYZ Ltd.'s Relio site. Just outside of Central City, Relio's smaller sized suburb made this XYZ location perfect for families in a bit of money trouble. Chu had always known the perfect places to build his offices. It was quite a miracle that they managed to catch the businessman during his visit to Relio. He traveled quite often, preferring to manage as many of his deals as he could.

"Falman told us to be inconspicuous," Mustang suggested. "And this – you, me, sitting here doing nothing for three hours in a parking lot – is not inconspicuous."

"What would you rather we do?"

The colonel shrugged, stretched his arms out as he yawned, and Riza could only roll her eyes as his left arm draped over her shoulders.

In a way, she supposed, this could be a personal trip. They hadn't received orders themselves that they turn to Henry Chu to fund their investigation of the Amestris black markets. However, this assignment had been given almost next to no funding, with the government's budget prioritized elsewhere. The black markets were getting worse, but the people were still getting by, and it's been only five years after the Sanitary Movement; there were more important things to patch up.

There was another reason why they had chosen XYZ Ltd. Riza sighed, her mind drifting back to their tentative agreement with the young Ling Yao.

"Someone's coming!" Mustang whispered sharply, and Riza turned to him, burying her head in his shoulder, and she felt his arms wrap around her back. A loud sound startled her, and she turned to see Falman open the door to the backseat of the car, settling himself in.

"What's all this?" he asked, indicating the two of them close together. In his hand was a thick brown folder with the logo of XYZ Ltd. on the cover.

She cleared her throat and moved away from the colonel. "How was it?"

"I think we should scoot first," Falman replied, tucking himself in with the seatbelt. "Then we can talk."

Mustang drove them back to the outskirts of Central City, where they stopped in front of a glade just before entering the main highway. He retrieved the document from Falman, and flipped open the cover. Riza watched his face fall into confusion.

"25 acres of land in Youswell?" He looked up, staring at her in bafflement. "What would Chu want with 25 acres of land in Youswell? What the hell even is in Youswell?"

"He said he wants to build an office there," Falman said, getting up from his seat to redirect Mustang's attention to the fine print.

"An office? In a mining town?" Riza returned the colonel's confused look. What would the man gain by setting up in Youswell? He never did anything without a specific purpose in mind. Admittedly, his sites in the East Area weren't abundant, only three as far as Riza knew. However, she couldn't understand why exactly he wanted one amidst the miners.

"Well, Youswell has been affected quite rapidly by urban sprawl. There have been other businesses built around the area in the last few years," Falman coined. "Could it be that he wants to surround himself more with them?"

Mustang flipped over the pages. "It could... though I don't understand the specific choice. There are other business hotspots than Youswell. But you have to admit, this collateral is a little tamer than I expected."

Riza agreed. At least for now, reservation of some land for Chu was an easy enough exchange for a loan of 3.5 million sens. She knew that they were all afraid he'd ask for something crazy, like an arm and a leg. Still, Chu had a way of sneaking up on someone. The last time they'd dealt with him, he had seemed quite fair and professional in his treatment of them.

And yet, they were still learning the repercussions of that.

"Alright," Mustang stuffed the documents back in the folder and handed them to Falman. "We'll talk to Grumman about it. I don't see him refusing this deal unless there's definitely some angle we're not seeing. Then call Havoc, and see if he's up to meeting the brats."

-o-

Lan Fan was ushered into a room not unlike the one in which she and Ling fought. There were no windows, naturally, since it would defeat the entire point of a secret chamber; however, the room was well lit with white lamps settled in the corners, bordering a wide, mahogany table looking ready to faint with all the clutter it was upholding. She almost asked if indeed it was a bodyguard he needed and not an assistant with a penchant for cleaning, but she bit back the comment. She'd never been one to joke with an employer, and it was only because this one was young and lively that she found herself mirroring his attitude. Or at least, attempting to. She read about that once, a long time ago. It was why smiles could be so contagious.

Ling motioned for her to take a seat, though where, she couldn't figure out. There were only three seats in the room: the tall, leather one behind the desk, and two identical, squat square chairs in front. The latter were also filled with notebooks and folders and laminated rolls. When she remained standing, he hooked his arm in hers and led her to the leather seat. She squirmed.

"Nah, this is the only good view," he explained as he planted her on the chair. He leaned forward from behind her, taking a ratty looking notebook on the desk, and flipping it at a seemingly random page. On the spread, several words were scrawled in big block letters.

"The last place a man looks is under his own two feet," Lan Fan read. Now what in the world was that supposed to mean?

"A piece of advice from Mom," Ling explained. She looked at him through her peripherals, because if she'd so much as turn her head, she'd be kissing his cheek. She shifted uncomfortably, but his left hand was gripping the left armrest, and he was leaning out over her right shoulder. "The problem with the first Greed Operation was that we were an obvious external element."

Aha. Lan Fan began to understand. "You're planning to attack them from the inside out?"

"Something of that sort." He cleared a space at the edge of the desk and sat on it. "It's too dangerous to plant a spy right inside their company, so we're not going to be attacking from dead center. But if we were to engage them as a client..."

"You mean... something like faking business with your father? Borrow money as a fake client?" Lan Fan asked.

"That's exactly what I'm thinking," Ling replied.

"Hold on," she said. "You are not planning to go as the client, right? I mean, I know you and your father aren't on good terms, but if your name is linked enough to his that a web search would quickly associate you two as son and father, then he'd still recognize you if you came to him."

"You're right, which is why I'm not going to be the client."

"Then who would be?"

"There'd be two. And one of them is going to be the government," he said quietly, smirking as he let that sink in. Lan Fan blinked. He'd just told her that the government had often benefited from XYZ Ltd. many times. How would they get it to go against one of their biggest sources of monetary assets?

She closed the notebook shut and fiddled with the corners. She wondered how safe it was to question her employer's plans, but he did tell her that part of her job was to help him work out the knots, and she did have financial and corporal interests staked in the gamble. "You're planning to involve the government? I don't know, Ling. After the whole uprising years ago, I don't think it's the best time to play with our not-so-friendly higher ups, even if President Grumman seems to be patching things up nicely." Gee, she could get deported back to Xing, and what would happen to her grandfather then?

"Careful Lan Fan, or syour enthusiasm would inflate my ego," Ling said. He snatched another coiled notebook from the mess, and flipped through it. He then narrowed his eyes at her, and asked, "Did you know that Auto-Mail has been compromised?"

Dread pooled in Lan Fan's stomach. "Compromised?" she grabbed the notebook from Ling, too worried to think about how that action might come across to her employer, but Ling just leaned back on the desk again. On the page, there were only incomprehensible notes, dates, and names of people she didn't know. "What do you mean by 'compromised'?"

"Well, the word is that the State Military is sending a team to start the investigation of the black markets."

Lan Fan swallowed, wondering what it meant for her. This stunt with Ling might ensure her welfare for the next two months (and she meant that quite loosely, since whatever they were going to do didn't sound as... self-preserving as she would like, even for a service such as she delivered), but after that how would she get a job? She had no degree, and her high school diploma was a useless square pulp that hundreds of others could pawn. Even if she worked 24/7, any decent employment registered in the Social Bureau for her skill level would not give her enough money to support herself and her grandfather's medical needs.

But perhaps... perhaps after all of this, if things went right, her grandfather wouldn't have medical needs. First, she had to make sure of something.

"Are we going to kill your father?" she asked.

"What? Whoa, slow down there!" Ling said, arms up as if pacifying a rabid dog. "I never said kill!"

"Good," she nodded. "I'm not an assassin. I don't take jobs that require me to be a hitman."

"You don't have to kill if you don't want to. And I'm confident enough in your skills to know that you can avoid it if you want," Ling assured her. Then his eyes grew curious. "Bad experience?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, but my past jobs are under non-disclosure agreements. I can't tell you anything. You'll have to put all your trust and confidence on my muscles and training instead. Surely you understand." If Ling knew anything about Auto-Mail, and it seemed he did if he knew it was 'compromised', he'd know that the jobs one could find there weren't exactly spotless.

It wasn't that they were illegal, not in the moral connotation of the word. At least not all of them. They were just against the law because they weren't registered properly in the Social Bureau. Some had good reasons for it – why pay twice more for a licensed high-rise roof patcher when one could hire Paninya – and others had more self-interested reasons. Very few of the jobs Lan Fan had taken could have actually been considered 'bad', but when the economy was as controlled as it was, black markets and underground networks could hardly be avoided. It was slightly getting better under Grumman with the alleviation of certain barriers to obtaining licenses and learning skill sets, but with the populace's practiced distrust against the government, many would try to stick with their secret connections.

Lan Fan gripped the cuff of her left sleeve, a nervous habit she had developed ever since she'd been unable to wring her hands together. Perhaps she could join another network, but if Auto-Mail was under investigation, soon the others would also be.

"Hey, I can hear your mind gears working from way over here," Ling said. When she looked back at him, he handed her a box of cookies. "Food! Works wonders, I tell you."

She shook her head, and wondered how this boy got anything done when he was always distracted with something.

"What does Auto-Mail have to do with your father? And the government?"

"Well, the government is always involved in everything so that part's easy. Anyway, this is the clearest way I can put my tentative plan into words: the government's interest in Auto-Mail and the black market is not that urgent, at least not yet, so the military team being deployed is small and underfunded."

He handed her a brown folder storing paper-clipped photocopies of the state mandate.

"Where did you get this?" Lan Fan whispered.

"A man I'd introduce to you later." Then he continued. "Guess where they're going to get the money? Papa Chu, that is! But, and here's the crucial part, we have connections with Auto-Mail too. So we set up another deception, this time with Auto-Mail members as clients who need funds to throw the military dogs off their trail. Then somehow, and this is the part that still needs ironing out, we'll have to reveal that XYZ willingly conspired against a government venture."

Lan Fan nodded. The plans had bones. It wasn't as solid as she'd like, but the essence of betrayal was there. All it would take to make the business collapse was to withdraw its government support, since by itself, 7-11 had dealt more than its fair share of injuries that it would take a short time for it to just implode. Plus, if it would be revealed publicly, the government would be forced to withdraw its support, rather than lose face.

"There's one thing I'm hesitant about," Lan Fan admitted.

"Just one? Whew!" Ling wiped an imaginary sweat from his brow. "What is it?"

"I don't feel comfortable throwing Auto-Mail as bait to the military dogs. What if we just get caught?"

Ling grinned. "Well the best part of this plan is that the team investigating the black markets is actually involved with us!"

He ended with a ta-da gesture, and almost as a punchline, something slammed below on the first floor, followed by a shriek. "Ling!" It was a testament to how loud it was when they could hear it in a room tucked away behind a larger room, a closet, and an entire hallway.

The boy in front of her jumped from the desk and tucked his bangs away from his eyes. "That'd be Mom. Time for introductions, I guess."

Lan Fan didn't know whether to shake her head to keep her mind from reeling, or to hold it still. Only if she'd had two hands. She found herself massaging her right temple, pondering if it was a bit too late to retract her agreement to the deal.

A million sens. This was a little crazy, even for a million sens.

She and Ling traversed the narrow hallway again, back to his closet, and finally out into his room. Lan Fan was only emerging from the jungle of suit sleeves and sweater hoods, when the door to his room opened, and a woman came in, looking around, a frown evident on her face.

"So messy, and.." she trailed off as she spotted them. Dressed in an off-white office suit, beige nylons, and white high heels, with her hair strictly pulled back in a severe ponytail, she seemed an ethereal being of cleanliness, intent on throwing out the trash. Lan Fan tensed when the woman's gaze, shadowed only by a pair of tinted visors, fixed upon her. Slowly, she pulled the shades down, and Lan Fan uncomfortably twisted her left cuff as she endured a thorough up-and-down scrutiny.

"Ma, this is my new friend!" Ling exclaimed, completely unperturbed by the sudden drop of temperature in the room. Or maybe that was only in Lan Fan's imagination.

"Oh!" the severity on the woman's face completely evaporated, replaced instead by an excited gleam in the eyes, the twin of which Lan Fan found permanent in Ling's own. Her mouth stretched into a toothy grin, and Lan Fan now found it quite unnerving how similar she and Ling looked. "A friend! And here I thought it was another half-sister."

"Another?" Lan Fan muttered under her breath. How many girls had shown up in this house claiming to be a sister?

"And here I was, murdering your father eight different ways in my head!" She took in Lan Fan again with an appraising gaze. "Considering that this girl would have been born while your father and I were still married... but that's not the case at all, is it?" She patted Lan Fan's cheeks with soft, moisturized hands, her nails digging slightly into her cheeks. "Oh, you're cute! You're staying for dinner, right?" She settled her hands on Lan Fan's shoulders, and only then she noticed the missing arm.

"Oh." Then she looked back at Lan Fan, clearly examining her face, as if she hadn't taken a close enough look earlier. "Wait, are you sewer-girl?"

"You know about that?" Lan Fan asked, a little rattled by the attention she's being given. What was up with this family and all their touching? Didn't they have the slightest notion of personal space?

"Ling told me," the woman nodded. And almost as if just remembering her son's presence, she turned to him, outraged. "I told you to leave the poor girl alone! You told me you stopped searching for her."

That was a surprise. Why would he be looking for her?

"I did! She conveniently showed up on our doorstep!"

The woman placed an arm around Lan Fan's shoulders, guiding her out of Ling's room, but not before sending a menacing glare at her son. "Clean your room." Then she turned back to Lan Fan, her voice gentle and saccharine. "You know, you don't have to be involved again if you don't want to. My son is just a bit too persistent. Looks like you've had your fill of Yao adventures." Lan Fan could tell she was studiously ignoring her left arm – or lack thereof.

"It's okay," Lan Fan said, going down the steps, wondering how she could escape this woman's hold. "He and I already made a deal. And it's only going to be for a couple of months."

"And what role are you going to be fulfilling this time around? I sincerely hope he didn't convince you to sign up as a sewage partner."

Lan Fan chuckled. "No, ma'am. A bodyguard."

The woman's eyebrows rose. "How much is he paying you?"

"Ma!" Ling called from behind them, descending the stairs in a rush. "You're not suborning my employee, are you?"

His mother ignored him and turned back to Lan Fan with a wicked wink and a conspiratorial one. "Whatever it is, I'll double it if you could babysit him on the side. He says he's too old for the governess, but he can't even clean his room. Sorry about that, by the way. We're kind of in between maids. I'm sure there's a bionic dust bunny in his room somewhere, and..."

"Ma, leave Lan Fan alone, will you? Look at her, you're overwhelming her!"

"I am not!" she stated a matter-of-factly, and began to fiddle with Lan Fan's bun. "Her hair is just not done properly. Now sweetie, turn around and I'll give you a perfect ponytail." Lan Fan put up her only hand to her head, shielding the shabby bun from prying fingers, and took several steps back to distance herself from the overbearing attention the two were showing. Kicks and punches she was used to, but this?

"Ah, it's alright Ms. Yao." Lan Fan patted the loose bun on her head, made even looser during her fight with Ling. Over the last two years, she'd managed to learn how to make a bun with only one hand, involving several pins, rather than an elastic.

"How's life at Younge?" Ling's mother asked, after an extended awkward silence that Lan Fan almost felt guilty about.

"Younge?" Lan Fan asked. "It's alright, I guess. But how did you know..." Even Ling didn't know where she lived yet. They only became acquainted minutes ago.

"Oh," Ms. Yao lifted a manicured finger, and pointed at the doorway to the house. "Tan brick dusts. There's that insanely ugly wall at Younge right? I don't even know why they call it a wall. I heard that pieces of it fall off every time some passerby sneezes."

Lan Fan stared at the bits of sediment she had trailed in, torn between feeling embarrassed that she had tainted this lovely house (while they were in between maids, how dare she!) or feeling a little uneasy by how much the woman could discern just by that... little... thing. She shifted, finding her left cuff again, and began to wonder what else Ling's mother, or even Ling himself, had found out about her just from her appearance and her actions. When she looked up at them, they just smiled back at her. Identical twin smiles.

Sweat ran down her back. For the first time, she felt a little chilled by those upturned lips. Lan Fan tried to return it, but she thought she must have sent them a grimace instead. What kind of people did she come across?

"So," Ling said, swinging his hands. "Would that be the Tong Hua restaurant or an AYCE?"

"AYCE," his mother said. "Your bodyguard needs little more... body. You're alright with that, sweetheart?" The last part was leveled at her.

"Actually," Lan Fan said after finding her voice. "I need to return to my grandfather. He also hasn't had a decent meal in a while–"

"He can come with us! We'll bring him along," Ms. Yao interrupted.

"Ah, no he can't. He's quite ill, you see. He'll need different type of food."

"Well, how about this?" Ling interrupted. "We'll go to the AYCE, and then pick up your grandpa afterward. We'll bring him here, and call for an assistant. How sick is he?"

Lan Fan shrugged. "Some days are better than others." She didn't feel comfortable eating out, spending so much, and splurging on food when her grandfather could sometimes, at his worst, barely digest chicken soup. Tealicious had been the only indulgence she allowed herself. But how would she say no to these people? If she could, she would have walked out the door the moment she found out who her employer was.

So it was that she found herself tucked in the backseat of a rather expensive looking, though extremely pristine white car, waiting for the garage doors to open. She closed and opened her hand, unable to help the feeling of excitement from rising. It had been a crazy long time since she had gone to a buffet.

When they were well on the road, she felt Ling move beside her, close, an arm going around her shoulders.

"Hasn't anyone told you that seatbelts are these wonderful inventions that actually keep you safe in a car?" He pulled the band across her body, from behind her left shoulder to the right side of her waist, and she heard the distinct click as he tucked it into the latch. The satisfied grin he gave her let her know that he was completely aware he was the cause of the two red patches on her cheeks. For a moment she considered sticking her tongue out, but she had heard that it could be an actual cause of employment termination in some jobs, so she held back. She didn't sacrifice her personal space just to be fired over a seatbelt.

A loud crash stole her attention from Ling, and she felt her heart almost jump out of her throat when she found another car, uprooted with its wheels high in the air, rolling towards them. She struggled with the seat belt, intending to leap out of their car, and cursing all the while at Ling who had the audacity to plug her in when there was a car about to smack into them. Suddenly, their car twisted to the left in an acute turn to avoid the other, and the abrupt acceleration jostled Lan Fan in her seat. Her hair came fully undone, and she watched pins spin out from her head and settle on the floor. The scene out the window spun uncontrollably, the screech of the breaks ringing in her ear, her seat belt digging into her flesh as the force pushed against her like an invisible hand.

Finally, after a long moment, their car righted itself, several feet away from the other one. Lan Fan exhaled. Then she remembered Ling, and looked beside her. Was she on the job now? Did she have to protect him now? Was he okay?

But he returned her worried gaze with an amused smile.

"Ugh, what the hell is wrong with you?" she found herself saying, even though she didn't make it a habit to snap at her clients. She almost punched him, but he nodded towards the window.

"Nothing's wrong. It's just Izumi," he said, as if that explained everything.

"What in the world is Izumi?" Lan Fan looked at where he was staring, and to her left, just outside her window, a woman stood, hair done up in braids, staring at them with eyes like a raging storm. What the...

In a flash, the woman's hand punched through the glass beside Ms. Yao's seat, shattering the windows, but Ling's mother didn't even flinch.

"Yuna, you still owe me for the pig!" the woman yelled.

Ling's mother just smiled. "I told you I'd pay it in installments!"

"It's a freaking pig! Who pays installments for meat?"

"I pay my hairdresser in installments! Why not a butcher?"

"And what do you expect me to do with Mason?"

Ms. Yao threw a bunch of cash out the broken window. "Don't frown so much, Izumi! You'll look old!" She started driving away, but a hand crashed against the wall of the car, stopping their progress.

"Who're you calling old?" Just then, the woman noticed Ling sitting at the back seat. He gave her an impertinent grin, and her eyes narrowed even further. Lan Fan managed to unbuckle her belt, finally, and she scooted closer to Ling, grabbing the door latch next to him just in case the woman decided to make a grab for the boy. Though if she really wanted to, it didn't look like a scrap of metal could stop her. She had thrown a car, for goodness's sake.

"Hey, this is Lan Fan!" Ling called out, rolling down the windows. Lan Fan gritted her teeth and sent him a glare. Now that she thought about it, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if this Izumi got to him. It would serve him right.

"Don't attract her attention. Are you crazy?" she hissed at him.

But Izumi merely regarded her with a twitch of an eyebrow, and she returned her attention to him.

"Meeting the brats tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yeah, I got class with Ed."

"Tell him not to come back if–" Just then, a blob of bloody goo fell from her mouth, staining the car's polished finish. Lan Fan recoiled back in horror, and continued to watch in numbed silence, as a man, big as a bear, led Izumi away from the road, patting her back gently. Ms. Yao continued to drive away from the suburban street, and rolled into the highway as if nothing had happened.

I must be dreaming, she thought.

"Those were the Curtises," Ling told her. Lan Fan stayed quiet. What was she supposed to do? Nod? Tell him, 'Oh it was nice to meet them!'?

Because it wasn't!

"Izumi Curtis and Ma have been in a... friendly competition for the title of the baddest female in Dublith since we moved here."

"Friendly?" Lan Fan snapped back, then shook her head, and chose to ignore Ling the rest of the ride. It would be better for her health. If this was the type of person he made 'friends' with, then she could definitely understand why he needed a bodyguard 24/7.

-o-

Ling eyed the shabby building, wondering if it would crumble to the ground if he let out the belch he was holding back. The dinner at the buffet had been wonderful, as eating always was for him. His mother had taken them to the large, highly-praised restaurant a few miles from Dublith, specializing in Xingese cuisine, but one that also served Amestrian, and the occasional Cretan, dishes. Lan Fan had looked reluctant to go for more than one trip (though her first serving was piled as high as his and she devoured it with an unabashed appetite), but he'd convinced her to go with him for a second round. He had to pile her dishes himself with food he suggested she try, but even then, as soon as they got back to the table, she looked more ready to hoard the food away in a fridge than to eat them.

He understood why now. They drove to Younge immediately after dinner, with Lan Fan giving directions as to where her apartment was. Ling saw the wall his mother had talked about earlier, agreeing with her that it wasn't really much of a wall. But then again, things here seemed to fulfill only half of what they were meant to be. The building in front of which they parked didn't even look like a residential building. It looked like a quilt... made out of bricks, mortar and wooden boards. How Lan Fan and her grandfather could survive the winters in there, he didn't want to know. It didn't get nearly as cold as it surely did up in Briggs, but it could still be uncomfortable for them.

Lan Fan hopped out of the car, and made for the entrance. He followed her, thinking she might need assistance getting her sick grandfather down. When she didn't stop him, he strode up beside her. There weren't any elevators, though he was sure he'd counted at least five storeys, so they followed the hallway until they reached the end of the building, where they could access the higher floors through rickety staircases.

It wasn't like Ling was unaware that people could be this poor. As a matter of fact, he'd known people even poorer, even in Dublith itself, pestered with gangs as they were. But knowing didn't prepare him for the oppressive feel of depravity. He was about to sigh, but cut himself off before he could fully inhale the pungent odour he could only describe as public-washroom-smell, but worse.

"Ling," Lan Fan said, a few steps ahead of him. Her voice sounded different, deeper, softer in the claustrophobic stairwell. "May I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Your mother said that you searched for me. Why?"

"Well, we did spend a rather... memorable night together, don't you think?" He didn't miss the eye-roll she sent him. "What?" he asked, voice high in a teasing tone. "You don't feel the same way? I am hurt! All this time, I was just a one-night stand to you?"

"Seriously!"

Ling chuckled. "Okay, okay. But I told you already, back home." Ling tried to form the words in his head in a way that would sound satisfying. He didn't think she'd appreciate thinking he pitied her. But it wasn't pity. It was guilt. Those were different things.

"I felt responsible for the explosion that took your arm, and not to mention, you disappeared from Hawkeye's radar. Do you know how difficult that is? Not to mention, scary. I was more than willing to pay your medical bills for you – I still am, by the way, just let me know – but we couldn't find you anywhere. If we did, I would have been less worried and not as... curious, I guess, to track you down."

Lan Fan merely nodded, and Ling felt a little cheated. All that explanation for a nod.

"Well?" he urged her, as she opened the door to the fourth floor. "What happened? Where did you go?"

She gave him a defensive look. "Non-disclosure agreement."

"What? You started working already?"

She opened her mouth, as if to correct something he said, but closed it again, and schooled her face into neutrality.

Okay. Interest definitely piqued.

But before he could pursue his next question, she stopped in front of a door, and jammed a key into a lock. She opened it up, and let him in, her face defiant as he took in her humble quarters. The place was only a little bigger than his own hidden room; to the side was a sad excuse of a passage leading to one bedroom and a bathroom. There was a sagging couch in one corner, piled with neatly folded blankets and a pillow. A small table stood beside it, swept free of dust, with only a small ledger to populate it. To his right was the kitchen, but there was no dining room to speak of.

"It's impressive," he said, and she gave him a flat look. "No, really! The way you managed to keep things clean and neat. Honestly, if I were in your situation, I wouldn't fare any better than having a cardboard box. With dust bunnies."

She gave a small smile, indicating that at least he tried. "Grandpa's in the room," she said. "I'll start packing up my things. See if you can get him up."

Ling nodded. He entered the room quietly, almost switching on the lights, but remembering quickly how rude that would be if someone was resting in bed. He saw a small, dark figure swathed in blankets, but he didn't hear heavy breathing. That was a good sign. Hopefully that meant today was one of his better days. He walked closer, reaching out to gently shake the old man, when a hand enclosed his wrist in a grip so tight, he would have at least sprained it if he made sudden movements.

"Who are you?" a rough, thickly-accented voice asked, and Ling found the elder man sitting up in bed, looking at him like a bed bug.

"Grandpa!" Lan Fan called, as she rushed into the room. She knelt in front of the bed, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "This is Ling. He's my new employee. He'll be taking us to a more comfortable place."

"I don't know how you can still trust your clients after–"

"Oh, but I know Ling!" Lan Fan assured him, and she turned to Ling, urging him to back her up. Ling began to nod earnestly.

"We met a couple of years ago, sir." The old man grunted, and released his hand. Ling looked back at Lan Fan, mouthing 'I thought you said he was sick!' as he rubbed his reddened wrist. She only looked back at her grandfather, concerned, as he started coughing. She reached out for a handkerchief on the nearby table, and brought it to him. When the coughing fits ended, the handkerchief came away with bloodied spots.

Ling frowned, then helped Lan Fan bring the old man to his feet. Across her shoulder, a sling bag hung limply, and he wondered if that was all she was going to take with her.

"Here," he offered. "I can take him down to Mom. If you need to pack more things, go ahead."

She nodded. "I also need to bring a note to the superintendent, telling them we won't be here for the next two months."

Ling nodded. "Tell them they can rent it out if they want. We'll find you two another place after our contract ends." He bore the weight of her grandfather as she transferred his arm to Ling's shoulders. He wasn't heavy at all, but the trip down to the parked car was made a little difficult by the constant glares the old man was shooting his way. Though he was born in Amestris, Ling was aware of propriety differences between the two countries. His mother might have instilled in him the values and priorities of the Xingese, but compared to this old man, perhaps he wasn't traditional enough. He could practically taste the don't-touch-my-granddaughter threat in those eyes.

His mother rescued him from the uneasiness when she flashed the old man a reassuring smile as soon as they exited the building. Or perhaps Lan Fan's grandfather was just relieved to see that they had a chaperone? Regardless, his mother guided him to the backseat, taking up the spot where Lan Fan had been earlier. Ling took the passenger seat. Lan Fan came down only a moment later, two bags in tow, and the four of them made the quiet trip back to Dublith. Their ride home was quiet and uneventful, and Ling didn't know if he was grateful for it.