Stay the Second Choice (FMA/Suikoden III, Kimblee/Sarah) Title: Stay the Second Choice Author/Artist:catdevigri Fandom: crossover: Fullmetal Alchemist x Suikoden III Pairing/characters: Sarah(->Luc), Kimblee/Sarah Rating: PG-13 Warnings: discussion of prostitution Word count: 1,716 Prompt/challenge you're answering: Sarah gets a new job, but doesn't tell Kimblee what it is. Kimblee is starting to get a little suspicious. Author's comment: This takes place in the same universe as the "In Harmonia, a Man of Fire..." section of my A Ficathon Walks Into a Bar fic Runic/Alchemic. I don't think I'm done with this universe quite yet.
"And, pray tell, who is it you're waiting for here?"
Sarah whirled around, skirt flowing out around her like a flower (a fantasy flower, if the man who was meeting her was inclined to describe his imaginings of it- a deep blue rose). "Oh, Mr. Kimblee." They had been spending enough time together lately; she should have recognized his slick voice. "I was hoping that Master Luc might disentangle himself from the grasp of his military colleagues and meet me here for the walk...home," she felt suddenly self-conscious calling their rented quarters at the inn home.
Kimblee checked his pocket watch. He did that, she thought, somewhat more than was strictly necessary. Perhaps he enjoyed flashing the rare piece of technology in public. Perhaps this was just another of his slightly obsessive qualities. Although Sarah did not understand it, she was not about to ask. She preferred to think these things over herself in the quiet of her alternately bored and busy mind. "How long are you planning on waiting?" the self-appointed "Crimson Lotus" asked her. "If you're simply hoping for a gentleman escort, I'd be happy to offer my services. If you don't want to be alone with Sir Yuber and Sir Silverburg, I can oblige in that regard as well."
That bit, at least, was amusing. Sarah did not laugh frequently, but she did smile. Was it obvious that she preferred the company of her fellow mage to that of Master Luc's other followers? "I don't have a precise moment I'm waiting for. Master Luc suggested that I stay until the bell that just rang, but I'm not exactly in a hurry. ...I'd like to give him a little more time."
"Then may I wait alongside you?" he put the watch away.
"If that would please you." Sarah would not admit that it suited her as well. She had had a rather rough day. Funds were running shorter than Master Luc cared to admit and Sarah was not unaware of this. She had invested some time in prowling about the marketplace, scoping out possible ways of making money on the Calerian streets, but the only options available to her had seemed questionable at best.
She had hoped that there would be a modest amount of zenny to be made taking in laundry and doing seamstress work, but there didn't seem to be any such jobs to be found. Some other men or women must have a monopoly on this work. Who did laundry for all the mercenaries coming and going here? She found it hard to believe the majority of them handled it themselves, and after meeting Elaine and Kimblee, among others, she knew for a fact that some of them did wash regularly. ...That was the answer to this question, if not her dilemma. She could ask Kimblee. "Mr. Kimblee, do you handle your own laundry, or is there someone in the area you frequent for such things?"
"There's a couple who I go to. A Le Buque woman and a Harmonian man- one who works for the inspectors on the side. They take in a lot of wash."
"Ah, I see."
"...How much longer?" he asked.
For a moment, Sarah was almost unable to grasp what he was inquiring about. Oh. Other people were not nearly as inclined to wait forever. "A little more."
"All night I think, it will be 'a little more.' Even if he never shows himself," Kimblee said. Sarah frowned. Was he teasing her or not? Either way she was not sure she cared for it. "Miss Sarah, please," he bowed, rose, and help out his tattooed palm, "Allow me to take you home."
"Fine," she relented. She could stay here all night, but there was no reason for Kimblee to do so as well. ...And if this was the only way to convince him to go...
Kimblee was happy to lead such a fine-looking lady through the plaza. She certainly made a fitting partner for him- polite, well dressed, and magically talented. Fire and ice. Their looks and their strengths complimented one another.
At the door to their lodgings, Sarah released his arm, and Kimblee's small measure of joy evaporated. The Masked Bishop didn't seem to realize half of what he had in this girl- not to say that Kimblee would lay down his own wild lifestyle and take up his family's dull and modest trade to live a quiet life with her if given the chance, but he could be counted on to at least provide her with some well-deserved romantic satisfaction.
"Oh," Sarah's soft voice slipped out of the shadows of the room, "It seems I was mistaken. Albert and Yuber aren't here at all." Knowing Kimblee, he would settle into a seat at the kitchen table with his notebook and a cup of tea or coffee and leave Sarah alone with her thoughts until the others returned or he decided to slink back to his own residence in the city (he had declined to let her visit the place when she had questioned him about it. "It's small and boring. There really isn't anything to see there.") At the moment, that was exactly what she felt she needed.
There was still one job opportunity open to her in Caleria- one that did not appeal to her, but offered to provide some business and stir up actual money. It was...not exactly something she could bring up around Mr. Kimblee though. It would be embarrassing. She couldn't imagine what he would say. That evening, having not yet dallied in such things, Sarah managed to keep her unease hidden.
Over the course of the next several days, she spoke to several women involved in the business of selling their bodies. After that, hiding what was on her mind was not so easy. The boss of two of their women- their pimp- had approached her and not only answered her questions, but offered her a contract on the spot, as well as an opportunity for her first...business transaction. "I need to think about it," she had wavered, running back to the relative safety of their lodgings.
It was just outside the door that she found Kimblee. "I don't have a key," he explained with a shrug.
"Y-you can come in," Sarah stammered, fumbling to unlock the door.
"You don't look so well," he remarked. "Actually, you didn't seem quite right yesterday either." He followed her inside, watching her shaking fingers as she locked the door. "...Have you considered telling me what's wrong?"
"You," she frowned harshly, "You're so narcissistic. But I..." For some reason, she actually did want to tell him. "Master Luc needs more money to support his mission. The only work I can find is prostitution. I've asked around. I've been offered a job. I don't see what I can do but take it," the words escaped her in one huge puff of air.
Kimblee held out his arms. She wilted into them like a flower. While Kimblee hadn't expected Sarah to admit to such an activity (it seemed to strain the bounds of her personality), once that silent blast had resonated throughout his mind, what came after was practically expected. She buried her face against his shoulder. Solf thought he could feel her continue to tremble as he placed his hands on her back.
Sarah had an arsenal of skills he admired, and she was easy to get along with- quiet, calm, and thoughtful. He knew the truth- that she was the only one among them wholly loyal to the Masked Bishop- but he imagined there was nothing to be gained by telling her that. It was already too late to undo the damage Albert's scheming had done. Kimblee himself had never been against the Masked Bishop, but, by the same token, he had never been for him either. This was nothing more than a job that allowed him to freely explore the bounds of his art. Sarah was too devoted. Only Luc's own word or a change of fortune could convince her to veer from this dishonorable path.
"I'm not usually interested in working with other people," he said, leaning his head down slightly to whisper in her ear, "But I think you and I work well together. It's a shame I can't poach the bishop's talent. We could go into business together. We'd be the most successful mercenary duo on the western border."
"You aren't that different from Master Luc, are you, Mr. Kimblee," Sarah commented. Her voice was muffled by his clothing.
"I think I am," he disagreed.
"Well, I like you either way." She looked up at him through her pale eyelashes, trying to choose the proper words to express her confusing feelings. "I have money enough saved up. I am doing this for the fun of it, as you probably remember, not the pay. Don't take the job, Sarah. Don't take any of those sort of jobs." He dipped his head a bit lower and kissed her. "Focus on Luc. I will handle everything else."
He held her at arms length, looking her in the eyes until she promised him. "I won't. I won't. Thank you, Mr. Kimblee." He peeled his hands away from her. As satisfying as it felt to hold her in his arms, he did not wish to complicate the job with any interaction she might regret later. He'd reserve the risk-taking for his art.
It was strange, he thought, as he journeyed away through the streets of Caleria, selling off the secret stash he kept in the form of gems to net the cash he would need to fund this covert operation. Apparently the funds the bishop siphoned off his Campanella Diocese were not going far enough.
That wasn't the part that struck him as unusual though. It was himself- that he felt like reaching out and helping...not "them" really, but her. He could not produce a satisfactory answer to his own inquiry, but, perhaps, he told himself, it was simply because she appreciated him and admired his skills. He was vain enough. He liked to be watched and admired for his dress, his art, and his clever tongue. It made no difference if he was second best to her.