Who: Marco & Lieutenant Hawkeye What: Marco visits the Brothel When: Nov. 4th, Evening Where: Madame Chastity’s Rating: PG-13 Status: Log - Complete
Riza worked nearly every night. She got one night off a week, but that didn’t really concern her. She was used to working all the time back home, unless Mustang realized she was there every day and told her to take a day off. Then again, when she wasn’t working at the Brothel, she was working at taking care of Roy.
Roy, after all, was incapable of making his own meals. Washing his own clothes. Cleaning up his own home. Sure, his house had been immaculate back in Amestris, but that was because he’d set it up the way he liked it and then never touched it again. He lived inside his bedroom, which was an awful mess.
So the sniper cooked for him (or picked up food), she took care of the laundry and pressing his uniforms, she cleaned up the Inn room (she needed to find them an abandoned house, she was wasting far too much money on paying the Innkeeper), and she made sure he took care of himself. It wasn’t anything that new, really.. Though she’d never had to cook for him back home. She did have to drive him everywhere, and pick him up from bars in the middle of the night because he was too drunk to drive home.. That was something she didn’t have to do here, so it was a good trade off, she supposed.
Currently, the blonde woman was wiping down the bar top and keeping an eye on the three men down at the end of the bar. It wasn’t that busy yet, but it would be soon. Right now, most of the men were upstairs with the women... but when they were done, they’d all want to come down and get drunk. More men would be filtering in for the second round, and the two groups would all end up mingling, and that was when it got crazy.
That was also when she made the most money. So she really couldn’t complain.
***
For once, Marco actually wasn’t being a cheeky smartass when he visited the brothel. He mainly was going because Riza was there and she’d promised to serve him alcohol, and Marco liked alcohol. What could he say? It made him feel slightly less shitty about his life. Besides, when he walked in, it wasn’t that busy, so Riza might have time to talk, and at work she was a captive audience.
The teenager had opted to wear actual clothes for once, having somehow found basic jeans and a white T-shirt along with some sandals. It still weirded him out that people sexualized his morphing outfit; his experience with it was purely practical, but he wasn’t there for attention or trouble. Just for booze.
So he slid into a seat at the bar and batted his long, black eyelashes at Riza, “Tequila?” He requested. Sure, she’d said only beer, but a guy could try, right?
***
When Marco slid onto a stool he got a smile from the barmaid, who tipped her head at him and slipped the rag away behind the bar before coming over closer to Marco, brushing her hair back behind her ear.
Really, if she hadn’t been behind the bar, Marco might have had to do a double-take to ensure he was looking at the right woman. The small studs in her ears had been replaced by hoop earrings (one of the girls had given Riza a pair, claiming men loved them), and she was wearing a corset that accentuated her waist and pushed her breasts up some. The Lieutenant had no problems sexualizing herself, especially when it earned her money to take care of the people she cared about. Sure, York was bringing in money now, but he couldn’t take care of Al, Ed and North all on his own. She’d never think that and never ask him to. So she’d been helping out with the Elric/Spartan home, as well as taking care of everything she and Roy needed.
She also did her best to slip Marco money whenever she could, even if he didn’t like taking it.
He wanted tequila?
“Sure.” Pulling out a shot glass, she set it on the counter, then poured beer into the glass and pushed it closer to him. “Close your eyes and pretend.” Like Hell she was giving him tequila! “Did you get any further with your Alchemy?” Leaning up against the bar, she crossed her arms on it to give him her full attention.
And if his eyes strayed down, her hand would come out to lift his chin. Her eyes were up here, Marco.
***
Before coming to Elsewhere, Marco probably would have stared at Riza’s breasts, but now that he knew how uncomfortable it was, his eyes stayed on Riza’s face. Besides, she was clearly wearing that outfit for tips. It would be like ogling Rachel in her morphing leotard: Sure, he could see stuff, but that wasn’t why she was wearing it.
Which wasn’t to say he didn’t notice. Riza was hot, okay?! He scowled when she handed him a beer, but took the drink anyway, “You suck.” He proclaimed, taking a drink. It wasn’t great beer, but he was 16, so that didn’t really matter. Sure, he had nice things at home for a couple of months, but he wasn’t any kind of expert or anything.
His alchemy. His alchemy.
Marco grinned, and it was a grin of happiness and excitement, not his usual grin which, although personable, never held traces of joy.
“Yeah, I’m working on something. It’ll take a while for it to work but if I can do circuits, I can do gates, and…” He stopped again, grinning from ear to ear, “I want to make Roy a calculator with alchemy. To say thanks, I guess.” He looked kind of sheepish.
***
When that grin lit up his face, Riza’s expression softened and she reached out to tuck some of that dark hair behind Marco’s ear. “I expect that you’ll show me when you’re ready.” It wasn’t often that Riza was pushy, though she could certainly be when she wanted to be. Mostly, the blonde woman was passive to a fault. She allowed things to go on when perhaps she shouldn’t have. She took orders. She observed. Hawkeye was calm and even-tempered. She was a wonderful match for Roy, who was so very manic.
“And that sounds like something the General would appreciate very much.” She knew how much he loved that damn calculator (more than he loved her, Riza was sure..) and to have one that Marco had made? And out of Alchemy, at that? Well, it sounded like the perfect gift.
Slipping away for just a moment, the blonde woman poured a few drinks for the men down at the other end of the bar and spoke with them for a moment before returning to Marco and putting the dirty glasses in the sink in front of her so she could wash them while she talked with the budding Alchemist. “Have you and Alphonse worked out when your study times will be, yet? I know he was excited to get the chance to teach you.”
***
He nodded, he would show everybody if it actually worked. Marco took another drink of his beer, still looking happy enough that one could be forgiven for thinking that he was about to start bouncing on the seat. He wasn’t, but it looked like he would, “I know!” He said, “I’m never going to be as good at alchemy as they are, but if I can get things like a calculator to work, imagine what they could do with their alchemy? If they could use algorithms and not do everything by hand?”
It would be amazing.
Most people could see immediately how Marco took after his mother: He took after her in looks, height, his use of humor and sarcasm… but when he loved things, he loved them with his father’s laser-like intensity. Passion was what he’d inherited from Peter.
He shook his head in response, “Not yet. I sort of got distracted… sorry,” Marco apologized. Because the lessons were going to be for Riza too. He refused to accept that she couldn’t learn. If his mother could relearn how to do things like have a conversation, he was pretty sure Riza could learn alchemy.
***
When Marco apologized, Riza smiled again and shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize, Marco. They’re your lessons. Though, I think they’d be beneficial. Not just for you, but also for Alphonse. It’ll help him to get better.” Teaching things made you better at them. She knew that for a fact.
Straightening up as two more men came to the bar, she gave Marco a nod and went over to them-- just a few stools away from Marco-- and asked what they’d like to drink. Both of them took a moment to enjoy the view, but one let his eyes linger far longer. It had Riza snapping her fingers at the man and pointing up.
The grin that overcame the man’s face was altogether unwholesome. Somehow, the sniper managed to ignore it and get their drink orders. When the glasses were pushed over to the men, the man who’d been staring the longest pulled out a few bills and reached out to push them between Riza’s breasts.
The Lieutenant allowed it to happen, thanked the both of them, and headed back to Marco, tugging the bills out casually and putting one beneath the counter while the other found its way into her pocket.
“Have you decided what you want him to teach you, or are you going to let him decide?” She’d much rather be talking to Marco than those men, was it any surprise?
***
Marco might have been happy, but he was still Marco. So he watched Riza as she went about her job, and scowled when the man stuck the bills between her breasts. First of all, that was so not okay, and second of all, it had to be unsanitary to spend bills that had been stuck into someone’s boobs. Boobs sweated, right? Marco assumed so; fighting with the two female Animorphs had shattered any illusions he’d had about girls not farting, sweating, etc.
“Dude, what the hell?” Marco asked directly, “You’re surrounded by women who are here for that.” And Riza wasn’t one of them, geez.
He turned his attention back to Riza, “I don’t know, I figure I’ll let him decide. I mean, it’s not like I know very much yet.”
***
Marco’s sharp question had the men laughing, but Riza leaned in a little to ensure she had Marco’s attention, and not those men. “It’s alright.” Assured quietly, before she straightened again. “You may have to give him some direction in what you want, or he’ll end up teaching you what he knows best.” Which would be wind.
In fact, Riza wasn’t entirely sure Alphonse knew anything about electricity, she’d never seen him use it.. It didn’t mean he didn’t know it, of course. But still.
“It wouldn’t be bad for you to push him on his knowledge, either. Make him work for it.” It shouldn’t be easy to teach, it should push the teacher to be better, too. Which was why she hoped that Marco would ask for electricity and direct Al that way.
***
He rolled his eyes at the men. It wasn’t alright! Sure, appreciate the view, but don’t touch. That’s what the other women there were for; why concentrate on one who wouldn’t do anything with you? Marco didn’t get it, “I will. Maybe it will help Al be more assertive?” Al could be pretty passive, and being at the brothel was a good reminder of that, “But it wouldn’t hurt for me to learn other things too. So maybe we should start with what he knows and move out from there.”
They both strategized their way through things, obviously.
***
Al definitely needed help being more assertive. But he was sixteen and back home, he had two incredibly strong ‘parents’, Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye, and he was incredibly sheltered. Surely Marco could see how Alphonse had grown up the way he had. He’d seen a lot of terrible things, he’d done terrible things, but he’d come out the other side better for it and still maintained that innocence and childhood, because of those two.
Hawkeye was strong. Stronger than Mustang, which was saying something. They’d both kept Al’s world from collapsing down around him.
“He could use help in that area. I think you’d be very good at helping there.” Because Marco wasn’t exactly shy or passive. “And that sounds like a good plan.” To start from Al’s knowledge and move out.
A waving hand flagged Riza again, who got Marco one more beer before leaving him alone again and returning to the two men, pouring them a few shots and talking with them a moment. It was only after the sniper had calmly turned the man down for an offer to go upstairs twice, that she shook her head and turned away. His hand snapped out to grasp her wrist and a sudden, hard jerk pulled her painfully against the bar and forced her to bend over it just a little.
Riza’s free hand fell to the bar top to keep her from ending up on her face across the wooden surface and the other man grabbed that wrist and held it there against the bar. It gave that first man perfect access to reach forward and push his hand inside her corset top, causing her to grit her teeth and narrow brown eyes on him dangerously. Stupidly, the man ignored that murderous look in her eyes and squeezed-- it was obvious he was feeling around in her top by the way she turned her face aside slightly and immediately began to struggle against the two men grasping her arms.
“Let go.” She snapped out. Neither man listened.
***
That was not okay. Not at all. Marco watched the two men basically paw Riza and he gritted his teeth. Was that alright, Riza? Obviously not. Was this the kind of crap she was putting up with to give everybody money because she thought it was her job to take care of everyone? That was such bullshit. The entire thing was bullshit.
So Marco turned and stood up, walked over to the man closest to him, and tapped him on the shoulder. When the man turned to look at him, Marco pulled his fist back and punched him square in the nose in exactly the fashion that Riza had been teaching him over the last several weeks. He scowled again, “Are you deaf or just stupid?” He asked the man, “She said no, fuckhead.”
***
When the man closest was punched, the second man released Riza as well and put his hands up with a little laugh. He didn’t want to get punched by the girly boy, too.
It allowed Riza to straighten up and reach under the counter. The man who’d been hit groaned and held his nose, then narrowed dark eyes on Marco, reaching out with his free hand to grab the boy by the throat, yanking him in.
The sound of a gun cocking behind him had him stopping, though, and he slowly turned his head to look back at where Riza was pointing the weapon at him, the barrel just inches from his face. He released Marco.
“You’re done drinking.” She told the both of them. The men both slid from their stools and collected their jackets, then headed away from the bar, further into the establishment to find their enjoyment for the evening.
Once they’d moved on, the blonde woman lowered her gun and slid it back under the bar. Then those Killer’s eyes fell onto Marco, harder than they had been before. “Sit back down.” She told him calmly.
***
Marco let out a yelp when the man grabbed him by the throat. He objected to that. He liked breathing! It kept him alive, and he preferred being alive to being dead! Still, he snickered as he looked at the blood running down the man’s face, and snorted when Riza stuck a gun in the man’s face. He waved at them as they left, going so far as to blow them a kiss, before returning to the stool like Riza said he should.
He tilted his head to the side, “Does that happen often?” Marco asked.
***
Sighing softly, Riza reached out to tip Marco’s head up and look at his throat, just to make sure there was no damage. He’d bruise a little, but he looked fine. Her hand retreated back behind the bar and she pulled out a small shot glass and filled it half way with tequila, then pushed it towards him. “After that, you go straight home.” Her rules about drinking the hard stuff. He could have it, but that was all he got, and there’d be no romping around the town after. He’d go home.
If he accepted her terms and conditions, he could have it.
***
Marco grinned at her when she gave him the tequila, then gave her a salute, “Yes, ma’am.” He said enthusiastically, taking the glass and tipping the half-shot down his throat in a motion that was far too practiced for someone of his age and size, “You didn’t answer my question though.” Marco pointed out. Although similar in some ways, Marco was not nearly as easy to distract as Roy Mustang.
And he didn’t like seeing that.
***
He wasn’t as easy to distract.. But Riza had Mustang well trained after seven years of working together and twenty years of knowing one another. She’d trained him when she was just a little girl, he knew he couldn’t ask her questions that she didn’t want to answer.
Marco, though, didn’t have that training.
“Not often.” Came her answer. Hopefully it would be enough to satisfy him. “And this stays between us.” If he ran off and told Roy about it, she’d strangle him. Roy didn’t need to know about it.
Leaning slightly on the bar again, her eyebrows would go up some. “Right?” It stayed between them.
***
Not often. Who knew how often that was, though? Marco nodded, because it was as close to an answer as he was going to get, and besides, she’d given him tequila. Now tipsy, he just snickered at Riza’s request, “Yeah, I won’t tell. It’d be hard for you to earn money if your office burned down.” Logistics, pure and simple. He watched her for a few moments and then pushed himself off the seat, “Yeah, yeah, going home.” He grumped.
“Thanks for the tequila!” He told her happily as he waved goodbye, then headed for the door.
***
“Hey!” Came a sudden, angry snap from off to the left of the young man. An older woman, who looked like her days had been rough, was coming down the stairs, smoking a long cigarette on an extender, her dark eyes narrowed on the boy. “You’re that boy who was in here with your little blonde friend. You certainly have a bad habit of hitting people, don’t you?” The woman was looking him over like he was some type of insect on the bottom of his shoe.
The way Riza straightened up said that this woman was someone to be respected.
Careful, Marco.
***
Who was that, and why was she yelling at him? Marco wrinkled his nose as the smell of smoke wafted towards him. He wasn’t paying much attention to Riza, he’d figured the woman had gone back to work. So he smiled at the old lady, “That’s just my formal name. My friends call me Marco.” He told her, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. That was one thing that jeans had over his morphing outfit: Somewhere to put his hands.
“I only hit people who are touching people who don’t want to be touched.” Marco said bluntly. He wasn’t ashamed of what he’d done.
***
“Marco,” his name dripped from her tongue like something foul, “If you can’t learn to keep your hands to yourself, you’re going to find them removed from your body.” The way she spoke, it was clear she wasn’t joking about it. Her nose turned up as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “And your friend over there is going to find herself out of a job..” The woman came close enough, so close that she towered over Marco, just a foot away and staring down her pointy nose at him. “And I will make absolutely sure that neither you, nor she, will be able to find a job in this town anywhere. And I wonder how long it’ll take before you’re both begging for a chance to lay on your back for that man you just punched.” And he should have no doubt that this woman could do exactly what she’d said.
“Control yourself in my establishment, little boy.” Her lips curled up into a sneer.
***
Sure, that threat was scary, but it’d be more scary if Marco couldn’t… you know… regrow his hands. The second part, though, was something else. He didn’t want to make Riza’s life more difficult; enough people were doing that already. So he was good. He refrained from pointing out that he didn’t have a job and was doing just fine. Instead, his eyes hardened and he nodded.
“So what should I do in those situations?” He asked her. Because like hell was he going to watch people treat Riza or Al like that. He crossed his arms.
***
The woman puffed on her cigarette for a few moments, just staring down at him.. Then she blew out a lungful of smoke. “I guess that depends on if your skills begin and end with punching people in the face.” She waved a hand lazily. “I could use a bouncer.” One drawn-on eyebrow lifted, arching painfully high as she stared down at him. “Or are you a one trick pony, little boy?” She had always loved having small bouncers, female bouncers. Sure, she enjoyed the large men who could intimidate just with a look.. But there was something about watching a small person get one over on a man that she really enjoyed.
***
Talk about mixed signals. Keep your hands to yourself, do you want to be a bouncer? Marco raised a dark eyebrow of his own at the old woman. One trick pony? Well, he used to be, but now he could probably electrocute people, so… he’d probably have to practice that. But he grinned up at her, ignoring how intimidating she thought she was, “I am a person of many skills.” Marco bragged shamelessly, “Lots of them involve hurting people.” Also true.
Which said a lot about his life.
***
“Well if you're going to be in my establishment punching people, you might as well be punching the ones I tell you to.” She puffed out a breath of smoke and stared down at him. “Come back tomorrow. We'll see what you can do.” With that, she made a vague sweeping gesture towards the door. “Now get out.”
From behind her, at the bar, Riza kept brown eyes pinned on Marco. She didn't love the idea of him being in here. She wanted to keep him away from places like this.