+Will You Go With Me?+\ -Behind Blue Eyes- An FMA Story

It's really not your fault.
Don't blame yourself.
You didn't do anything.
'Exactly,' She thought distastefully, 'You didn't do a thing...not a damn thing...'
The monotone droning of rain outside the window fit the mood perfectly. Just minutes ago, the military's base had gotten a ivory colored envelope delivered straight to the Fuhrer's desk. The high-ranked soldiers-all from the rank of Colonel to General, along with the Fuhrer-were gathered in the room. Upon her arrival, they instantly silenced, watching her expectantly as she walked across the room in her style: purposely, strongly, sexily...catlike, in all aspects. The Fuhrer looked silently from the envelope to her face, and she took the hint, grabbing it and ripping open the top. Reading it quickly, she threw it down on the desk, then made her way from the room, straight to her office, which led to where she was now. She leaned back, examining the many weapons laid out on the desk, which had been swiped clean, sending papers flying everywhere, scattered about.
"Oasis."
She quit moving, but didn't turn to face the Fuhrer as he spoke, "I'm sending someone with you."
She spun around, only to have her office door thrown open, slamming into the wall as four men knelt on the floor in front of the Fuhrer.
One with shocking white hair and shocking, deep, green eyes spoke, "We seek permission to accompany General Leric."
The Fuhrer went to speak when a man with wild, unruly brown hair and matching chocolate eyes spoke up, "We will not take no for an answer."
"The Liutenant General and General have saved us many times, it is our time to return the favor." A man with amazing silver hair and bright, sky blue eyes added.
"It is our duty to protect the Liutenant General and General." The final man, one with long black hair pulled into a ponytail and amazing amber-orange eyes said. The Fuhrer looked angry for a moment, then smiled, "I can't argue with that, now can I? Major Generals Evans, Edwards, Addison, and Anderson, you are hereby on a mission in the protection of General Leric and the recovery of Liutenant General Relic. This is not a mission you can make a mistake on."
"Sir!" All the men saluted, keeping the motion until the Fuhrer exited the room. They looked at the General whose eyes went from soft to hard, her arm swinging in a sweeping motion to the desk, "Pick whatever you'd like, I really don't give a damn. Not like we'll need them, most likely."
She turned her back, and swiftly stuck her hand into her pocket, pulling out the state-issued pocket watch, and popping the lid open. She stared at the lid, then narrowed her eyes as she clamped it closed and replaced it in her pocket, spinning around and shooting out the door.
Now, how Mustang, Havoc and the rest of his brigade got here was a bit of a blur to her. The Fuhrer had come out in a flash and said they needed to experience the more common troubles of the world, pushed them off on her, and she nearly exploded on the Fuhrer, but held her tongue, mumbling incoherant things under her breath as she walked out the door, getting into the driver's seat of the car.
"Now, get this straight, you will not talk, you will not get in the way, and you will not make a move when we get to where we're going. I don't give a damn if you were in Ishbal or not, personally, and it would be in your best interest not to piss me off even more. I do not care if you're a military policeman or the Fuhrer, I will not hesitate to shoot you." The General, last name Leric, spoke harshly, flying down the road as the 9 men accopmanying her struggled to stay in their seats. After adjusting her coat, where one could clearly see the large black pistol on her right hip and the large white one on the left, she spoke, "Lastly, if you judge me, I'll prove you wrong. Tell me what to do and I'll tell you off. Say I'm not worth it and see where I stand. Call me a bitch and I'll show you one. Call me crazy, but you have no idea."
Falman tensed while chills zapped up and down Havoc's and Breda's spines. Feury gulped, and the hairs stood up on the back of Mustang's neck. They all toppled over on top of each other when she swung the next turn.
They'd been riding for some while, unevently because Mustang and his brigade were too scared to say anything, and the Major Generals were amused but smart enough not to say anything. Then a bullet ricocheted off the windsheild, and out of reflex they all ducked as much as possible, the General letting loose of the wheel as she stuck her top half out the passengers window, halfway on Mitchell's lap while he tried to drive. This of course, wasn't very comforting to the rest of the people while the car swerved.
"DAMNIT! Keep it straight!" The General growled, firing another round.
"I'M TRYING!" The Major General, last name Anderson, shouted, "YOU'RE HALFWAY ON MY LAP!!"
The other car swerved and she pulled herself back in the window, taking the wheel as she replaced the guns in their holsters, "I'd figure you'd be thrilled."
"Just because you're pissed doesn't mean--"
"What I told them also applys to you." She growled, causing him to instantly close his mouth.
The car swung to a stop and she jumped out, neglecting to close the car door as she continued through the building. This was a bit of a challenge for the boys to keep up, even with her jogging. A few men came around the corner, and before anyone got the chance to knock them out, the General gave each a fatal shot,
"Not today bastards."
"Maybe you should calm down." The Major General, last name Evans, spoke.
"Maybe you should shut the hell up." She retorted, causing him to shut up, and follow around at the back of the group. Large, iron doors towered over them, and placing her hands on her hips, she glared at them,
"Well...if THAT isn't inconspicous..."
Now, the last thing they expected was to have their large iron doors thrown open to have them slammed into the wall. And by a woman, none the less. A young woman, also. The kidnapper, along with his workers, stood in front of the missing Liutenant General, who just happened to be chained to the wall. Her eyes flickered to the group, then a grin broke out on her lips,
"You are in for it now!"
The leader didn't look scared. In fact, he smirked. His purple eyes narrowed behind dark, round glasses; his hands tugged gently at the fur-collar of his vest, ever-so-slightly revealing the second-skin, black, muscle shirt underneath; strong, tanned hands slipped into the tight, black leather pants; pointed black boots rested motionlessly on the floor.
"Well...you're almost as pretty as our little girl here...what's your business, exactly?" He spoke, his tone smooth and sauve, as if flirting.
The General, tucking her hand away in her pockets also, looked quite bored, "Fuck you."
"I always thought most women liked to kiss before it got to that stage." He smirked, looking down to look over the top of his glasses.
"I'm not 'most women'." She retorted sharply, "Mind letting her down from there?"
"Yea, actually I do...I'd like you to meet Marta, Law, and Dorochet...because I don't hit women." The man smirked, showing his shark-like teeth. The three, promptly revealed to be Marta, Law, and Dorochet, rushed forward, only to be intercepted by the Major Generals Evans, Edwards, and Addison. They clapped their hands together, Evans' circle growing a bright green as large vines flew from the ground, ensnaring Marta where she jumped mid-air, and continued to wrap around her giving her no oppertunities to stretch from them. A whrlwind whipped up, and true to his name, Addison had caused it, his circles glowing a light blue, slamming Dorochet into the wall. Edwards hands collided with Law's as the two had a contest to see who was strong, ending when Edwards' circle glowed brown, and the earth underfoot threw Law into the wall beside Dorochet. Another shadow approached from the darkness, revealing himself.
The General's eyes narrowed, "Crimson...we all thought you were dead...what a shame."
"Well...haven't you just moved up in the ranks...and you're so serious, opposed to the way you were during the war."
"Fuck you." She said boredly, Anderson coming out of nowhere and attacking Crimson. Anderson's circles glowed a deep red, fire shooting from them and at Crimson as he created bombs from thin air. Stepping back, the General glared at the leader but whispered to Mustang,
"You're at the rank of a Colonel...get the Liutenant General down. That is an order, Colonel."
She stepped forward, "So, exactly what do you want, Greed?"
He didn't mask his shock very well, but smirked none-the-less, "Ready to tango, pretty lady?"
"So long as you take the first step." She smirked slightly, both rushing forward at the same time.
Her fist pulled up and smashed into his cheek. She stumbled back, and he smirked, "Broke a couple fingers, right? Two, maybe three..."
She clapped her hands together, dragging one hand from her shoulder to her hand, "Not done yet."
Greed came in, slamming his hand against her arm, only to jerk back, holding his arm. She smirked, "You just watched me manipulate my armband into spikes covering my arm and put red water on them, yet you punched it. And that once again goes to prove my point that men are stupid."
She heard the Liutenant General laugh, which caused her to lightly laugh to herself, then all the Major Generals shouted, "HEY!" which made her laugh a bit more.
"She's down!" Mustang shouted, and the General gave a salute, "Sorry, but we'll have to finish this later."
They all took off, Havoc carrying a still-bound Liutenant General down the hall as Evans and Edwards drug one hand on the wall, vines and earth making a very good obstecle as they rushed out, cramming now 10 people into the car. The General was behind the group, and stopped, clapping her hands together as she saw Greed and his group easily busting through everything. Holding her hands out in front of her, the circle glowed a bright, dark blue, and water welled up and rushed from her gloves, straight down the hall, washing them all back. She about went ahead when Anderson jumped from the moving car and grabbed her, pulling her back towards the car, and into the middle-Evans driving and Anderson in the passenger's side.
"You okay?" The Liutenant General asked the General, who blinked tiredly at her, "My hand hurts like hell, that's all..."
"Lemme see." Her green eyes shone brightly as she examined the General's hand, moving the wrong finger which caused the General to tense, muscles locking as she moved the one next to it, then as she moved the one next to that, the General bit her lip,
"Desert, do you mind?!"
She instantly let go, smiling sheepishly, "Sorry...you're awfully good about hiding your pain..."
"Maybe you're just blind." The General smirked, slipping her glove back on.
"Maybe you're just a bitch."
"Maybe you're just a whore."
"Maybe we can wait until later to finish this."
"Maybe we can."
"Yea."
"Maybe we can't."

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