This story is the novella I wrote for NaNoWriMo in 2008: not my first completed NaNo, but the first time I had done a fanfic version. The original was posted on my LiveJournal, so some people will have read it already in its rougher form. But I'm tidying it up and will gradually be posting the chapters here, in final form.

Maes paced a small path, back and forth, working off his agitation as he stared at the blackened, smoking wreck of the warehouse. The engineers – yet again – were testing what remained of the building's frame to make sure it was safe before allowing anyone to get any closer. He could already tell from the street below that most of the roof was gone; he could peer through several of the empty windows along the sixth floor to see stars in the haze that still hung in the air after the fire had been extinguished.

None of the Investigations people were ever allowed into these buildings before these tests were done, no matter how urgently they needed to find clues about what had started the blaze. There had been a close call after the very first fire, five months ago, when a precarious wall collapsed onto the spot were two investigators had been standing about ten seconds earlier. And that had been the end of just sauntering in to poke around.

Maes had made that decision himself, and of course it had been the right choice. But that didn't prevent him from chomping at the bit, wishing he could just get in there and start looking. Who knew what clues might be glowing inside the building, gradually fading and disintegrating under the influence of hundreds of gallons of water, to leave them clueless (in so many ways) once again?

The firefighters, policemen, and a few random citizens (where did they come from, in the middle of the night?) still hung around on the street, huddling in little groups, talking quietly, wearily, after their exertions of the past hour. Most could probably have left by now, but as always, they seemed to need an unwinding period before returning to the normalcy of their homes. They congregated mostly near the three powerful lamps, mounted on generator trucks and pointing at the building, the bright yellow light throwing the scorched walls and crumbled brick into garish, nightmare contrast with the black backdrop of the sky. The air had begun to clear, though the acrid smell still seemed to pervade everything from the burned wood to the very clothes on one's back.

Maes had thought – everyone had thought – that the arsonist had finally stopped, when there had been that two-month silence after his string of seven burned buildings in the two months previous. But those hopes had been dashed tonight, when the shrill ringing of the phone in the darkness had shocked him awake, and he'd been informed that another empty warehouse near the edge of the city was ablaze.

This made eight in total. And he had no doubt that whoever had started this fire tonight was the same person who had instigated the previous seven. Which meant, he admitted to himself through a fog of gloom, that it probably didn't matter how quickly they got inside to look around. There had been no useful clues whatsoever, the first seven times, and it was very probable that there would be none tonight either.

He made himself stop pacing, straightening his glasses and casting a glance at his companion, who had remained utterly still and silent at his side through all the hustle and bustle of the cleanup and the tests.

Roy had been pretty active about half an hour ago, rushing to the scene after Maes had called him. Maes had actually hesitated, wondering if he should phone or not. He knew how badly his friend was going to take this, and after all, Roy had only gotten back a week ago from his long vacation in Xing. Great way to wreck any relaxation and benefits from the trip to his ancestors' original home. Yet in the end, Maes also knew there was really no choice. Roy would find out about this sooner or later, and better that he hear about it from his closest friend.

Plus there was the fact, as in all the previous cases, that nobody could put out a fire like this one as quickly and efficiently as the Flame Alchemist. The firefighters did as good a job as possible, and they were the best in the country for most situations. But in these particular circumstances, involving such huge buildings, their role ended up reduced mainly to holding down the fort and trying to keep the fire from spreading to neighbouring edifices, until Roy could arrive and stop the blaze altogether.

Which he had done tonight – again – as quickly and thoroughly as the other seven times. He had needed perhaps five minutes to stride around the building and assess things like the location of the main fire (or fires, since there were usually several burning inside at once) along with the apparent strength of the remaining structure. And then he'd been ready to do his pinpoint work.

After the first fire, he had explained to Maes what the process was when he dealt with something this big. It wasn't enough just to snuff out the main blazes; he simultaneously had to alter the oxygen content around the building to make sure smaller fires didn't expand into much larger ones while he was dealing with others. So he had to pick which ones to work on first, while preventing all the others from growing. It necessitated using both hands at once, snapping his fingers at different times, engaging his alchemy in several places to do more than one thing at a time.

But that was over now. Roy had successfully put out the fires in this building, his work flawless and precise as always. Then he'd allowed the firefighters to resume pumping water from their wagons, to soak down the charred wooden frame and remaining hot embers. Already the air in this block was beginning to cool down, and Maes didn't feel so much like he was working in a sauna any more. In a few minutes, he might even have to refasten the collars of his uniform jacket and shirt.

That wasn't his main concern, though. He glanced at Roy again, shoving his glasses back up his nose with the heel of one hand. Even the man's profile was grim as he stood, one hand stuffed into a pocket, gazing up at the blackened walls.

"Well, Roy," Maes finally ventured. "What do you think?"

For a moment he thought his friend wasn't going to answer, but at last Roy sighed, never taking his eyes off the building. "What do you expect me to think?" he returned. "You know as well as I do what this means."

Maes kicked at a large, half-burned chunk of wood lying partway across the sidewalk at his feet. "Yes, I do," he nodded. "I really hoped we'd seen the last of this guy. I thought maybe he'd left Central and gone to plague someone else for a change."

"Maybe he did," Roy murmured.

"Yeah, well, if he went somewhere, I guess he's back."

"It looks that way."

"And now we have to figure out what to do."

"Yes." Again Roy fell silent, offering nothing more, instead just standing there. Staring darkly at what the fire had done.

Fire. His own element.

As though he really needed further reminders of just how destructive the flames could be. He knew it better than anyone else on earth; he'd absorbed the knowledge and the devastating lesson until it had almost driven him mad.

Well, Maes thought bleakly, there was something else Roy now needed to consider, that he probably hadn't thought about (or, more likely, wasn't allowing himself to think about), and it was going to add immeasurably to the burden his friend already bore. But Maes had to talk to him about it. Now that the instances of arson had resumed, there was absolutely no other choice.

Before he had a chance to say anything, though, Ed and Al emerged around the corner of the building and walked toward the two officers. Ed hopped over a couple of beams that had fallen across the sidewalk and, as Al bent over to shift them out of the way, the elder brother drew alongside the two men.

"We've strengthened the walls as much as we could," he said without preamble, shoving an ever-present lock of dangling hair out of his eyes with the back of his hand. One cheek had been smudged with soot, and whitish powder liberally streaked his black clothes, but he didn't seem to have sustained any harm as he worked. Al, of course, in his form as a suit of armour, was rarely harmed no matter what happened to him.

Maes watched Roy instantly transform himself from the grim, depressed friend, helpless to stop what was happening, into the commanding officer Edward knew. He cast Ed one of his mild, sidelong smiles, and drawled, "That's good work, you two. Just so long as you didn't alter things so much that you obliterated all the clues we'll need to investigate. Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes and his men may have a few choice words for you if you destroyed important information."

Ed, as always, rose to the bait. His brows immediately drew down into a frown. "Don't get excited, Colonel," he said. "We do know what we're doing. You put out the fire, we work with metal and wood and stone. We could probably do this in our sleep by now, especially when this is the seventh time."

"Eighth," Maes corrected automatically. "And I for one am grateful for the way you've helped the engineers, Ed. You've really cut down the investigation time for us."

"Not that it's done much good." Ed's narrowed eyes ran over the high, many-windowed wall looming over them, ever on the alert for weaknesses and potential dangers. "There haven't been many clues to help you figure anything out, have there?"

"Well…," Maes began, but Roy interrupted.

"That's confidential information that the people in Investigations cannot reveal, Fullmetal," he said firmly. "You know they're not allowed to discuss ongoing cases."

"Yeah, yeah, well," Ed shrugged. "It doesn't take a genius to see that nobody's been able to figure anything out yet. Otherwise they'd have caught the guy by now. So if they're nowhere near catching him – there aren't many clues. That's the only conclusion that makes sense."

Maes smiled at him crookedly, mirthlessly, but didn't bother saying anything. Ed was right, and knew it. Everyone knew it, really. And the Higher Ups were getting really agitated about it, too, as Maes himself was aware to his own growing discomfort. If this went on much longer without an answer being found, heads were likely to roll, and he was under no illusions that his would be spared.

By now, Alphonse had finished shoving the fallen beams out of people's way on the sidewalk, and he joined the three of them as they watched the engineers making their final inspections of the outside of the building. "I think I kept the beams pretty much intact," the younger brother said, his hollow voice reverberating within the armour. "If anyone in your Investigations crew needs to analyze how they fell, Lieutenant Colonel, I can replace them later."

"Thanks Alphonse," Maes nodded. "I'll get someone to look at them right away, so we can keep them off the sidewalk."

Ed continued frowning, watching all the men and women of Investigations milling among the firefighters and various bystanders. Here, just at the edge of the light cast by the generator lamps, they could look over their shoulders at the darkness behind them and see the faint lightening of the sky above buildings at the far end of the street, indicating that the sun was on the rise. But it was the glaring light from one of the wagons that set Ed's hair glowing, seeming to create sparks in his bright, troubled eyes as he turned them up once again toward his commanding officer.

"Colonel…," he mused.

Roy glanced down at him. "What is it?"

"With the lack of real clues at all these fires, and no sign of what the arsonist used to set them…hasn't it occurred to you…" For some reason, the young man hesitated in a most uncharacteristic fashion.

"What?" Roy demanded, all trace of the sarcastic smile obliterated from his face. Instead, his dark eyes had sharpened on his subordinate, as though trying to bore into the kid's skull. "Spit it out, Fullmetal."

Maes wondered why his friend suddenly looked as though he wished he could stomp Edward under his boot. But Roy knew the young man even better than he did.

Ed pursed his lips. "Well…it's just…it's almost like this arsonist has some way of setting the fires without using anything to trigger them. At least, not the usual things like matches or torches or fuses or…" His voice faded under the burning glare of the older man's eyes, until finally he looked away, shrugging uncomfortably. "Forget it. I'm sure I'm just missing something – "

"No, Ed." With a sigh, Roy averted his eyes. "You're not missing a thing. And believe me – this has more than occurred to me. It keeps me awake at night."

"Then what are you doing about – "

"We're doing everything we can," Roy answered before Ed had even finished. "Let us deal with it for now. You're doing a great job already, with the engineers. Just let us figure out the rest of it for now, okay?"

Ed was probably as disconcerted by the mild response as Maes was. The young man searched Roy's face in puzzlement for a moment, but finally nodded. "Okay. For now. And if we find anything that will help explain things, we'll show it to you. But we've got to figure this out, and soon, or everyone in the city is going to start living in fear."

"I'm well aware of that, Fullmetal. Like I said – we're working on it. Meanwhile, don't you have other duties I've assigned you for today?"

It was an obvious dismissal, and Ed opened his mouth as though to protest. But after a moment, he closed it again and turned away with a shrug. "Yeah, sure. Boring research about something or other. We'll get right on it." He began to walk away, but flung back over his shoulder, "We'll talk about this again, Colonel. I'm not going to forget about it."

At last Maes and Roy were left alone again, and they returned to their earlier as the engineers began to wrap up their work. The head engineer glanced over at Maes, but was still consulting with his own underlings, so it would be another few moments before he came over to give the okay for Investigations to go into the building. Now would have been the time to introduce the question, but Ed had already done most of Maes's work for him.

And eventually, Roy went most of the rest of the way himself. "All right, Maes," he sighed again. "I know you were thinking it too. You might as well say it." The more cheerful façade he had mustered for Ed and Al had completely vanished now, replaced by the brooding frown.

"I wasn't thinking it – not exactly," Maes shook his head. "But it's something we – "

"Colonel Mustang!"

Damn. Another interruption, as Lieutenants Hawkeye and Havoc rushed toward them from a car parked farther down the block. Hawkeye arrived at Roy's side and frowned with a trace of accusation in her eyes. "You didn't call me," she blurted.

And yet again, the casual, amused expression had returned as Roy turned toward his two subordinate officers. "And good morning to you too, Lieutenant," he said. "I'm fine, thank you, and how are you?"

"Sir, I really don't appreciate being left behind like this." The woman wasn't about to be dissuaded. Behind her, Havoc flung a rueful smile at Maes, and shrugged.

"It's all right, Hawkeye, I knew there wasn't anything you could do here, so I decided not to call and wake you up unnecessarily. How did you find out, anyway?" Roy wondered.

Havoc answered, "Someone from Lieutenant Colonel Hughes's division called Falman, who called us."

"Good grief," Roy snorted. "It's like a high school gossip circle. Well, I'm glad you're both so eager to help, but I've finished my own work here, and Hughes is about to start his. So you've wasted your trip. But I'm glad to see that you're so eager to get busy today, because we have a lot of work waiting for us back at the office. Where I think it's time to go."

And now it really was time to speak. "About that, Roy…," Hughes began.

"About what?"

"About going to your office. I agree, that's where you should go. And I'd like you and Lieutenant Hawkeye to stay there."

"I beg your pardon?" Roy's eyes sharpened on his face. "Hughes, we do have responsibilities – "

"I need to talk to you. Both of you. And I'd like to do it right away. So I'll make this official, as the Investigations guy in charge of all this." Maes waved a vague hand toward the burned-out building. "I'll be at your office in an hour, and I want you both to be there. Got it?"

The other three stared at him, and he could have laughed at their typical responses. Roy appeared irritated (because of course he had a pretty good idea what the topic of discussion was going to be), Hawkeye was typically wary, and Havoc was downright mystified. But that didn't matter, as long as Maes got what he wanted.

"Very well," Roy responded, voice clipped. "We'll be there. Lieutenant Colonel."

Maes rolled his eyes at the formality (he'd seen his share of these minor verbal tantrums), but Roy had already begun to walk away, Hawkeye falling into step beside him. Havoc favoured the Investigations officer with one last puzzled glance, before following after the other two.

Ah well, Maes shrugged, directing his attention to the head of engineers, now striding toward him. As long as they were there when he got there, that was all that mattered. Once he got Roy and Hawkeye alone, they were going to have a very long talk about a lot of things.