An Inconvenient Truth

Rating: T

Genre: Humor

Summary: Maes sets his inquisitive sights on an unlikely target.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters, just the off the wall idea, lol.

Chapter One- Inception

Silence echoed through the office, the faint rays of the retreating sun shone through the blinds, a reminder that the day was nearing completion. Among the numerous photographs of familiar faces and loved ones, a fountain pen, and a telephone, a nondescript file remained. After months of surveillance and a bit of cloak and dagger, Hughes' investigative team had compiled a decent enough dossier on their target, gathering top tier Intel that, in the wrong hands, could prove to be destructive for all involved. As it were, the target, a clever if not near diabolical figure was suspicious enough. The investigation would have to run its course clean; one hint and it was over. The mission, the outcome all of it would suffer debilitating blows and leave Hughes, the entire investigative division, and not to mention the fate of the country, in tatters. The margin of error had to be nonexistent-there could be no slip ups in the quest to use this information against his intended target. As such, Hughes decided that the last phase would be his responsibility, leaving the cadre of men below him the opportunity to claim plausibly deniability. It was best, especially since Hughes was about to enter the belly of the beast.

Maes opened the file, his eyes honing in on the blurry black and white image of his target that lay on top of the mountain of paperwork amassed. He picked up the glossy photograph and reclined in his chair, studying the image for any inconsistencies in demeanor or context. Based upon the surveillance, the target had a routine that hadn't deviated for months. In theory, that should've made trailing them that much easier but it only served to derail his efforts. A little misstep such as familiarity was merely a minor obstacle; one he could easily overcome. Maes was nothing if not persistent.

As predictable his target had become, there was still a vital piece of evidence that had yet to surface. Maes placed the photograph to the side and flipped through the stack at a rapid pace, the soft rustling of the documents breaking the silence. It wasn't like he hadn't read all of this material before. He was merely recounting all the necessary details he'd need the moment he'd confront his target. The only thing left to chance was an opportunity.

Glancing at the photographs of his beloved family, a satisfied grin erupted. It was their love that spurred this endeavor. All of his efforts to track, to wage an intellectual war with his target were leading to this defining moment. A minute twitch of excitement flickered through his body. He was on the precipice of something greater; his hard work and determination would finally pay off. There would be a sense of accomplishment, of sheer elation, something he'd longed for since the end of the Ishvalian War.

Exercising the grim reminders of the past, Maes stood and stretched to the heavens, his eyes falling on the candid photograph of him and his best friend, Colonel Roy Mustang. Theirs was a friendship built on mutual conviction and on some levels a brotherly love. Although both came from broken homes, the two of them knew the significance of intimate trust. Maes trusted Roy to make good on his word to lead the country into a new direction and in turn, Roy trusted Maes to watch his back. As dark forces converged on Roy's mission, that trust had become paramount.

Recent events had given Maes more of a reason to strike a decisive blow with this investigation.

Maes checked the clock once more before collecting the file and placed it in his desk, making sure to turn the key. He had to hurry if he was going to catch his target. Yes, tonight, the catalyst to change would be confrontation.

Suddenly, Maes couldn't contain his glee.

"You mind telling me why I'm sitting here, dressed like this?" Ed asked as she cut her eyes toward the towering man, highly annoyed. She had been just minutes away from scouting another lead in her current case when she'd gotten a call from one, Major Hughes. From the sound of it, Hughes had some pertinent information she could use to her advantage. Of course, she should've proceeded with caution the moment he mentioned the location, even more so when he advised her to wear her best dress.

Said dress was something out of the realm of possibilities for Ed; the black satin sheath was an intricately designed halter top with capped sleeves leading to a tasteful bodice that hit just mere inches above the knee. On a whim, perhaps a drunken one, she'd purchased the dress with the expressed intentions of parading around him who seemed more interested in snagging dates with women of a certain stature- that is to say, taller- than considering her, who'd been his faithful subordinate, who possibly knew more about him than any other.

Faithful, yeah, right.

"You're dressed like that, Ed because it's a part of the mission." Ed glowered at Hughes as he narrowed his brow, "You know the parameters of the mission. It's on you to finalize and capture our target."

Inwardly, Ed snickered at that as she picked up her drink and took a healthy swig. She was going to need it for this mission Hughes had in mind. Dressed like she was, she'd already exposed and the sauce was making her a bit uncomfortable. As the Fullmetal Alchemist, she was known more for her ability to kick ass than her glib demeanor and to catch her in a dress would be akin to some sort of miracle in itself. Ed felt as if she was on display and the way she'd dolled up smacked of desperation. But she couldn't help it; in the intervening years of joining the ranks of the State Alchemists, she'd found that the irritable bastard had perched himself right in the middle of her heart. No matter what she did though, it seemed as if she were invisible to him. All of this pomp and circumstance… for him to ignore her even more?

Peering at the leering patrons of the club, she exhaled heavily and then turned back to the bartender and lifted two fingers. Clearly, she was out of her comfort zone. Yes, she should've told Hughes where to stuff this pertinent information.

"You might want to slow down. You'll want to be able to perform when ready," Hughes advised. He turned to see Ed glaring at him and asked, "What? "

"Perform? What am I, some sort of carny?" Ed blustered as she took down the second drink. Slamming the glass down, she scowled in Hughes' direction as he stared at the entrance, "I swear, Hughes, if this goes south…"

Hughes sat up straight and swiveled on the stool, forcing Ed to do the same. The sudden movement jarred her slightly and she nearly clocked him but stayed her fist when she heard him whisper conspiratorially, "Our target has arrived."

Ed glanced over her shoulder to see him standing at the entrance, his darkened gaze traveling the expanse of the club, barely sparing her a glance. For once, she was glad of the anonymity that the dress provided. Now, all she had to do was to stop her heart from jumping out of her chest and form a somewhat coherent thought. This couldn't be as bad as an idea as she thought it was.

Could it?