"Dangerous Hope" Eureka Seven & Fullmetal Alchemist
Title: Dangerous Hope Author: badpenny Fandom: Eureka Seven & Fullmetal Alchemist Pairing/Characters: Maria Schneider & Vato Falman Rating: PG Warnings: Spoilers for recent chapters of FMA manga (definitely from ch. 64 on, and maybe as early as ch. 60?) Prompt: 12/5 captivity scenario Notes: I'm not exactly sure how to describe the universe. It's mostly the FMA manga universe but tweaked a bit to allow for the E7 inserts to keep their airships and most of their relationships.
Five days. Falman was beginning to doubt the plan, and his doubt made him feel stupid and guilty. Yes, time was critical, and yes, he had reason to be antsy, but as far as he could tell, the plan was running smoothly. The flurry of activity surrounding his capture should have allowed Miles and Izumi to slip into Drachma without notice.
And once they slipped in, they'd rendezvous with the Gekkostate, convince Holland Novak to help them stop a Drachmanian assault on Fort Briggs, and then they could turn their attention to stopping King Bradley or Father or whoever was in charge in Central. Falman straightened up and focused on that thought. He could endure imprisonment if it meant saving Amestris.
The door to his cell squealed on its hinges, and a moment later, someone stepped inside. Falman squinted against the harsh light. Then the door clanked shut, and Falman could make out the insignia, see that his visitor was a Petty Officer, First Class. And then he could see his visitor was a woman, slim with a smooth face, high cheekbones, and brown hair drawn back and twisted up under her uniform's cap.
Falman looked away. The set of her shoulders and the steely look in her eyes reminded him of Hawkeye, and he was surprised by how much that hurt. He missed her. Her and Havoc, Breda, Fury, and Colonel Mustang. But he missed Hawkeye the most.
She studied him for a moment, her expression neutral. "You are Warrant Officer Vato Falman. Number seven two oh nine four dash eight three two." she finally said. Her Ameristan was flawless with the warm, rolling accent of the rural west, so it almost sounded like she was mocking the only words he'd spoken so far.
She wouldn't have that accent if she had just learned Ameristan to interrogate prisoners. So she was a spy. Falman wondered how many times she had infiltrated Ameristan institutions, what kind of intelligence she had gathered for her people. He glanced her over. She was a good choice for a spy, pretty enough, but not a seductive temptress most people envisioned when they pictured a Drachmanian spy. He chuckled to himself. Perhaps Drachma had spies in the Ameristan movie industry.
"You were captured attempting to infiltrate Fort Tresor."
"Yes."
"Ah." She flashed him a brief smile. "So I get another word out of you."
Damn. So much for holding firm. "Yes."
"I am Maria Schneider." She took a step further into the cell and started down at him. "I would appreciate it if you answered my questions."
He snorted.
Petty Officer Schneider moved to crouch down in front of him. "If it comforts you any, I am not interested in Fort Briggs. I want to know about this man." She held out a photograph.
Falman reached for it before he could stop himself. He didn't want to cooperate, but her expression was pleading, like she was trying to communicate something she couldn't say within earshot of the guards. Or maybe he just wanted to believe she was secretly on his side because she was a pretty woman who reminded him of Hawkeye.
And then he was looking at the photograph, letting himself gasp in shock before he could hide his reaction. Kimberly! Kimberly, alive and well and sitting at a small café table with a -- he squinted to make out the insignia -- Drachmanian admiral. The café was somewhere further north, down at the base of the mountains, in what looked like a quaint little town with cobblestone streets and cozy A-frame buildings.
"You recognize him, yes? The dark-haired man with the ponytail. Though perhaps you also recognize Admiral Novak?"
"Yes. I recognize Kimberly." And he recognized the name Admiral Novak, though he had never seen a picture of the man.
"The Crimson Alchemist, correct? Your Mad Bomber of Ishval?"
He handed the photograph back to her. "Admiral Novak? Your Bloody Admiral of Ciudades de Cielo?"
She smiled sadly. "The Vodarac are much like your Ishvalans."
"Are they trading war stories?" He was being cruel, and he didn't like it, but the look she was giving him was so similar to the look he'd catch Hawkeye giving the Elric brothers just before they'd run off to do something dangerous.
"It would be naive to hope it is something so...well, I suppose innocent is the wrong word." She sighed. "Their meeting concerns certain people, Warrant Officer Falman. Does it concern you?"
He didn't answer.
"Perhaps you were trying to infiltrate Fort Tresor to stop their meeting?"
Again, he didn't answer.
"You were caught with a sniper rifle."
He stared straight ahead. "I have nothing to say."
"Are you sure?"
"I am Warrant Officer Vato Falman. Number seven two oh nine four dash eight three two."
She sighed and rose to back towards the door. "Very well, Warrant Officer Falman. I will make sure you receive an extra blanket. The temperature is supposed to drop tonight." She knocked twice, the sound echoing dully on the metal. "It will be cold and clear. A bad night for flying, if one's goal is to avoid detection."
He glared at her back as she exited. Five days. Miles and Izumi would have met up with the Gekkostate yesterday. If Petty Officer Schneider wasn't lying about the weather, they probably wouldn't fly tonight, so his rescue would be set back a day. Maybe two. That was all right. He'd endure.
* * *
The temperature did drop. Even with the extra blanket, Falman was too cold. His cell was stone and metal. Both sucked away his body heat. He was sure he made a pitiful picture huddling on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest, shivering.
Petty Officer Schneider returned the next morning bearing his breakfast and a mug of steaming coffee. She handed him the coffee, eyes flickering briefly to his shackles. "Do you have anything more to say today?"
He shook his head.
She looked sad. "Then good day, Warrant Officer. I hope to find you in a better mood tomorrow. Be sure to stay warm. Without the cloud cover typical of this time of year, I am afraid the nights get very cold."
Five more days passed in the same fashion. Falman tried to ignore the panic bubbling up in his stomach. He should have been rescued by now. Something must have gone wrong. So he was on his own. Truly on his own, because if Miles and Izumi failed, Mustang would fail, and his supporters would be traitors.
On the sixth morning, Petty Officer Schneider came in with snow dusting her shoulders and cap. "I've not seen so much snow so late in the season. I do hope you were not too cold last night, Warrant Officer. The one advantage to such low, thick clouds is that it is marginally warmer." She handed him his coffee. "Still, if you wish for another blanket, I will provide one."
"I heard two was the quota."
"Only in those awful spy movies of yours."
He chuckled. The coffee was weak, but it was hot, so he drank it and liked it. "Why are you telling me about the weather?"
"I thought it would interest you. And I have paperwork I wish to avoid, so I hope you will indulge me for a bit."
"You don't strike me as the type to avoid paperwork."
"I serve under a wonderful captain. Some of his subordinates who have served with him for years are being transferred, and such transfers involve paperwork. I have avoided the task as long as possible, but I must submit the paperwork by seventeen hundred."
"I don't think I can entertain you until then."
"Perhaps you can give me an hour?"
"An hour of talking about the weather?"
"With all the new snow, there is a great threat of avalanche. Do you know much about avalanches, Warrant Officer?"
"I know you'll want to keep the Crimson Alchemist away from unstable snow."
She laughed. "Yes. Thankfully, or perhaps troublesomely, he is accompanying Admiral Novak to the capital."
He was curious. And he liked the sound of her laughter. And he liked the way she tilted her head back slightly so the hollow of her throat was exposed. He'd regret asking, but he wanted to keep her talking. "Why troublesomely?"
She sobered. "Well, Mister Kimberly has provided us with valuable information, but he also led our forces into a trap."
"Not so much a trap as an unwinnable confrontation. We had superior weaponry."
"We supposedly had the Crimson Alchemist."
"Given your intelligence on him, you should have expected him to sacrifice your men. He has few qualms."
"True enough." She studied him for a moment. "Of course, if Holland Novak hadn't stolen the Gekko, we would have had the superior airship, and then we would not have had need of the Crimson Alchemist's services."
"That almost sounds like a conspiracy theory."
"Does it?" She stepped back towards the door. "Drachma is a country with much unstable snow. I worry Mister Kimberly will find enough in the capital."
"I'm not good with metaphors," Falman said, looking away. He wasn't sure if she was trying to tell him something, or if she was playing with his head to get information. He wanted to believe the former, but if he was honest with himself, it was because she reminded him of Hawkeye. And because with each passing day, he was closer and closer to admitting he was truly alone.
"A shame." She knocked on the door to be released.
* * *
Three more days. Rescue wasn't coming. Acknowledging that made Falman oddly calm. He had done his part, stuck to the plan. If his captors made a mistake, he would attempt to escape, and then he would die. If he didn't freeze before reaching Fort Briggs, he'd be court-martialed and found guilty of treason.
Petty Officer Schneider came in. No breakfast tray this time, and her fingers tapped out an arrhythmic beat on her thigh. Falman frowned. Why was she nervous?
"I have orders to transfer you. Please stand up, Warrant Officer." Her voice was strained.
Falman rose. "Where?"
"Please come with me."
The hallway was too bright. Falman squinted against the harsh sunlight streaming in through the windows. The guards escorting them were large and attentive men, nearly as disciplined as his cohorts at Fort Briggs. They wouldn't make a mistake. He wouldn't get a chance to make a mistake.
Petty Officer Schneider led him outside. It was a cold, clear day, and Falman wasn't dressed for the weather. The wind cut through him, and he was shivering, hands tucked close to his chest, head bowed. At least he had good shoes. It would have been nice to get a coat, though.
"Just a few steps, and then we'll be on board the Izumo." Petty Officer Schneider grabbed his upper arm, and the warmth of her hand only emphasized how ill dressed he was.
Falman lifted his head. The Izumo was a massive ship running hot enough to melt the snow around its landing supports. "That thing flies?"
"Yes." Her smile was proud. "She's a fine ship with a fine captain."
He blamed the cold for being so slow on the uptake. "Your captain."
Her smile widened, and they walked up the boarding ramp. "Welcome aboard, Warrant Officer Falman."
* * *
The Izumo was blessedly, blessedly warm. Falman expected to be housed in the brig, so he was surprised when Petty Officer Schneider led him to what had to be the officer quarters and even more surprised when their armed escort didn't follow. And he was downright stunned when Petty Officer Schneider released him from the handcuffs.
She sat on the bed bolted to the wall and motioned for him to sit on the one opposite her. There was a hiss from somewhere deep within the Izumo and then the groan of gears. The ship shuddered beneath them.
"Take off," she explained, smiling slightly at Falman's white-knuckled grip on the sheets.
"I've never flown before."
"Your country lags behind ours in airship technology."
"Something like this shouldn't be able to fly."
"It can't fly great distances. Not like the Gekko. But it will get us to where we need to be."
"Which is?"
"The capital."
Falman didn't know what he expected to hear, so the news shouldn't have disappointed him, but it did.
Petty Officer Schneider gave him a slight smile and crossed her legs. Falman pretended not to notice how it made her uniform's skirt ride up to expose a quick glimpse of her thigh. If she was trying to seduce him...but no, she blushed and tugged her skirt back in place.
"We're in a position where I can be frank. Your comrades -- and yes, I know you have comrades, Falman, and I know you were acting as a distraction for them -- met with the Gekkostate as you planned. But the weather didn't cooperate, and by the time the Gekko could fly, they did not have time to rescue you. So I'm afraid you're stuck with us."
He forced himself to relax. "What are you going to do?"
"We're going to stop an avalanche." She laughed. "Oh, I forgot. You said you're not good with metaphors. A shame. I'm sorry, Falman. I'm needed on the bridge. And until my captain convinces the rest of his crew of our mission, I must keep up appearances by locking you in this room."
"Not the brig?"
She winked. "You are a very important prisoner, Warrant Officer Falman."
"Careful. This is beginning to resemble one of my country's horrible spy movies."
"Oh, we make them, too." She hesitated. "Perhaps...well, perhaps I can take you to one. Assuming I'm not found guilty of treason."
He wanted to say he'd like that. She was such a pretty woman, and she seemed so nice, but that was dangerous thinking. So he licked his lips and looked away, thankful for the window because it gave him something to focus on, and a few moments later, she left the room, shutting and locking the door quietly behind her.
The Izumo groaned and shuddered and it climbed higher. Falman watched the ship break through the clouds. It was too dangerous to hope, but that knowledge didn't stop him from nursing a tiny little bubble.