Edit: 6/13/2011 - Edited out typos, fixed spelling errors, ect. For any new readers: :D Welcome to the ride.

Hey guys! RaigingStorm here, bringing you a multi-chaptered brain-child of mine. The whole story was brought about by a short story called "An Occurrence at Owl Creek" (which has nothing to do with the plot, oddly enough. Instead, it inspired a scene in my head that inspired this work XD) and a ton of Creed. You will have to have patience with me as I am in school and suffer cruelly at the hands of writers block at times. I'm aiming for weekly to bi-weekly updates, probably on Saturday nights/Sunday mornings. Just so you know.

Anyhow, let's get on with the stuff you REALLY want to know.

This is an alternate universe in which Amestris had been divided into two nations - the East and Central. Our favorite hot-headed blonde is an Eastern "rebel" who knows a bit more than he should and is trying to bring down Central Command. Meanwhile, our favorite Colonel Bastard is /still/ working to climb up that rank ladder, but he's having doubts already about the integrity of the war. There is definitely something fishy, considering the war wasn't started with a violent act...

There WILL BE some heavy yaoi. Roy/Ed, and hopefully I can work up the power to write out some lemony goodness later on :3

DISCLAIMER: Fullmetal Alchemist doesn't belong to me. Trust me, if it did, we'd have a shitload of Flame/Fullmetal action, and it wouldn't all be fighting, if ya know what I mean!

Sparks Fly in the Dark
Chapter One

Edward Elric took a deep breath before walking into the old tavern. It didn't bother him that he was underage – he wouldn't be drinking and besides, even if he wanted a beer, he was only a year away from the legal limit. Not to mention the fact he was well-used to breaking that law every now and then. No, it didn't bother him that he was walking into a shrine for alcohol at twenty or that if he got caught, he'd be jailed because of it.

What did bother him, though, was the fact that this was a Central bar, and he was here to glean information from its drunken depths. That if he was discovered to be an Easterner – and one that had been to the Gate, no less – he would be immediately put to death, no questions asked.

Well, maybe there would be questions asked. Questions in a dark room with superior bastards staring him down thinking they knew better than he ever would, demanding that he spill forward all the truth he had ever worked for in life.

Truth they didn't want him or any Easterner to have. Truth he had rightfully gained and didn't want to give up. Truth they didn't have and wanted. Oh yes, there would be questions asked. Especially since he had quite a reputation.

Those who personally knew Ed knew him for his trademark red coat, golden braid, shiny automail, and short temper… which matched his height. They knew an Ed who was pig-headed and hot-blooded but insanely smart. An Ed few really knew.

And those who didn't know Ed personally still knew of him. To them, he was the Fullmetal Rebel – a notorious saboteur known for his craftiness. When the war had first broken out, he had first become known for purposefully trying to reach the Gate in a Central building. This process had let to a rather large explosion that had ripped through the structure, bringing it to its knees. Not to mention him, as it had cost him his damn right arm and left leg, but this fact had escaped his legend. He was thought of as untouchable… made of impenetrable metal, like a tank. Hence his name.

He was also known for that Truth. He was known for his knowledge of the Gate and his ability to reach that god-forsaken place without that witchcraft fluttering about Central called Alchemy. He was known for knowing the link the higher-ups in Central did not know, and for hungrily tracking down the link they did have.

For you see, Edward Elric knew all about that Gate. All Easterners had some affiliation with it. Edward just happened to know the most. However, Edward Elric did not know alchemy. Centralists knew about that. And therein this mass mix of knowing and not knowing lay the whole reason for the war that ripped through Amestris:

Without knowledge of the Gate, alchemy was a flimsy spark at best.

And what, exactly, can one do with a stone archway with an unyielding door? Especially one that is painstakingly hard to get to in the first place…

But neither side was willing to relent to the other because in doing so, the side with both fractions of knowledge would be all-consumingly powerful. Neither the East, nor the Center powers of Amestris would allow the other that kind of power. So the two nations within a nation warred on in its civil destruction.

This was why Edward was wary upon entering the tavern. The place smelled of old food, bad beer, and terrible breath. The blonde stopped himself from crinkling his nose at the stench. Tinny music played from a machine in a far corner – a desperate attempt to set up a mood that failed, however, to set up any sense of atmosphere. Men sat scattered about in the dark room, drowning themselves in misery. There was no liveliness to be found. Ed wasn't surprised, though. Men who sat in bars at noon on a workday were often men of misery.

He made his way to the bar and took a seat by a man in Central uniform. He was an oddity there, much like Edward himself, for it appeared as though he wasn't there to waste his life away. His skin was a pale complexion, his raven hair kept short and somewhat neat. He turned at Ed's approach and took in the younger man with intelligent onyx-colored eyes.

The gaze made Ed feel uneasy. It was too intelligent, too searching…

The blonde's eyes flickered over the man's uniform. Three stars dotted his shoulders on each side. A colonel. He could cause Ed some trouble… however, he could also prove to be a valuable source of information.

Besides, Ed loved a challenge.

When the bartender asked him proof of his age, Ed handed him his fake identification card. The old man laughed and gave him a drink on the house. "You should drink to your good looks," he said through deep chuckles, "You are so young!"

So as to not appear suspicious, Ed took a sip of his drink. He swallowed the bitter fluid and managed to not gag before ordering lunch to appease his growling stomach. When the food arrived, he devoured it almost comically. Beside him, the colonel continued to watch him, though now he seemed slightly amused.

"You must be hungry." The man's voice made him look away from his meal. It was a pleasant tone, not the rough sound that usually came from military officers.

"Oh. Yeah," Edward's brain set to work, lining up the questions he knew he had to ask the man and figuring ways to coax the answers he needed. He started simple. A test run. "I see you're a military colonel. What are you doing here at noon? Aren't military officers supposed to be working at this time of day? I know they can't be completely useless."

The man easily ignored the jab at his job and replied evenly. "I could ask the same of you. You're young, you appear to be somewhat intelligent… Why are you in a bar at noon?"

Ah. Touché. "I'm here because I've got no job, yet. But you have one," the lie slid easily from his lips. Edward almost believed it himself.

"Mm, you're right," the man conceded, "I'm here because it's a lunch break in my shift."

"You drink during your lunch shift? Damn, the military really is useless."

"No," the officer grinned, a kind of handsome thing, really… "You've got me there. Actually, I plan on not returning to work today. You see, I have quite a pile of paperwork I was supposed to complete and my lieutenant takes it all quite seriously. So I'm planning on avoiding her for the rest of the evening until she calms down and I can turn in what I have done with little to no pain."

"Your lieutenant has that much control over you? What, are you some sort of dumbass officer or something?"

That hit a nerve. The colonel's face washed over with irritation for a second as he stared evenly at Ed. "That's a pretty big assumption coming from a small kid."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE COULD DROWN IN A RAINDROP?" Ed yelled and then took a second to regain control from his outburst. The bar was silent and his words left an awkward ring in the air. The colonel stared at him in shock for a moment and then laughed – another pleasing sound.

"What's your name?" he took a sip of his own drink, dark eyes watching him all the while.

"E-ah… Alphonse Rockbell." The question had almost caught him off guard.

"Well, Alphonse," the man put emphasis on his borrowed name, as though he knew it were a lie. "I have a question for you. Do you have an opinion on the war?"

Ed almost choked on a bit of (sandy!) sandwich. "I think, er… what was your name?"

"Colonel Roy Mustang."

"Well, Colonel Mustang, I think it's a pretty dumbass reason to fight. What's knowledge when there's no one alive to make use of it?"

A dark eyebrow rose at his answer. "So then you know what information we are after?"

"N-no!" Ed quickly spat. "I just know those Easterners know something we want. And we must want it pretty bad to call war on them just to get it. I think it's ridiculous."

"That's treason, you know. Thinking that way and not verbally supporting the war effort."

"Yeah, well. I'm allowed my own opinion. I pay my taxes and help Central that way. Besides, I'm not telling my view to any old person. You asked, remember?" Ed watched amusement cross the pale face again.

"That's true." Colonel Mustang took a sip of his drink.

"…what's your opinion on the war?"

Onyx eyes once again shifted to take in golden ones. They still made the blonde uneasy. "A war is a war. As a man of the military, it doesn't matter what I think. It won't matter until I reach the top of the ladder and my opinion determines who dies how and for what cause."

"Sounds like you have quite an ambition there."

A smirk made its ways onto Mustang's lips and eyes. "Why yes, I suppose I do."

A silence settled between the two, and Edward took the time to analyze his current target. He did not, at all, appear to be the typical military dog. Mustang looked the sort to disobey a command here and there when he could get away with it – or when he had to. His name itself brought on a sense of "thinks-on-his-own," and Ed liked that. Few things could piss the blonde off quicker than a brainless military officer.

"…with what your challenged height and all." Except digs at his vertically-challenged body.

"I AM NOT SHORT, DAMN YOU!" Ed shot a murderous glare at the bartender, who had at some point started talking to him about some senseless something-or-another.

"Okay, okay…" The guy held his hands up in an easy surrender and walked away to take care of a different customer.

"You are a bit deprived in the height department." Edward's golden orbs snapped to a smirking Mustang.

"Who are you calling short?" he hissed.

"A little touchy about our lack of stature, it seems."

"I'm not touchy!" Ed wanted to smack the bastard now. "And I'm not fucking short! I'm small-boned!"

"Sure, sure…" Ed felt those damned onyx eyes flick down his "small-boned" frame and had to turn away to hide the color that began to tint at his face. Behind him, he could hear the man chuckling softly, like he had done it on purpose and gotten the reaction he had wanted. Somehow, this served to irritate Ed more.

"What are you laughing f—" out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a familiar blonde mechanic out the tavern door. He watched as she gestured to her pocket watch – time for him to split. With an inward curse – he never got to really question the man – he stood and laid out the appropriate monetary amount to cover his expenses.

Beside him, the colonel looked from Ed to the girl outside and then back again. "Leaving so soon?"

"Yeah. My partner's waiting on me." He turned to go and paused, coming to a quick decision in his mind. "Mustang…"

"Alphonse?"

"…you should call in sick tomorrow. And avoid your lieutenant for another day."

Colonel Mustang blinked, surprised at the cryptic message. "And why is that?"

"Just a suggestion," Edward quickly replied and with that, turned and left the tavern, leaving the colonel slightly confused and himself in an odd mental turmoil.

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