A/N: Greed/Lan Fan/Ling: the ultimate love triangle/threesome/what-have-you. I had to write something for them sooner or later, and decided on sooner; it was interesting, trying to delve into Lan Fan's character.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, and I'm pretty sure the writing style came from somebody else as well.

Lan Fan was a bodyguard. She was a warrior and a shield, and the little she knew about love was only enough to teach her to blush when the Young Master saw her without her mask. She was coarse, a commoner, unskilled and clumsy in emotions and manners.

But neither of them seemed to think so; the Young Master whispering it to her in between their shy, stolen kisses, and the Demon almost snarling and panting assurances of her beauty and worth as she writhed under him, in those times that she almost thought shouldn't happen but keep on doing so because she obeys her Master and loves him and wants him and maybe, maybe she wants the Demon a little too.

Did they decide, somehow, to both love her between themselves, or did it happen naturally? She had seen the Young Master's soft looks for years now and since the moment she met the Demon there had been something in his eyes, the sharp corners of his grin, the way his tongue flickered out over his lips when he mischievously asked if she'd be spending the night in their room to guard them better. But they had grown bolder at the same time, touches and sweet words and slight suggestion from the Young Master and straight-out, raw-worded demands from the Demon, and when she first succumbed she could taste the Young Master's kisses but feel the Demon's hands on her body, and she didn't know which one groaned her name against her skin as they filled her, like a prayer to some goddess of the night and lovers.

Lan Fan was no goddess. No matter how they treated her (him, them, they, what did it matter when she loved them both) she knew what she was and what she would always be, and she'd never be truly worthy of either of them, too common for the Young Master and too ordinary for the Demon.

But with their arms around her and their sweat-slicked body pressed against her and one or the other voice gasping words they didn't know were untrue in her ears, sometimes she can pretend.

So…did this stir any feelings an you? Pity? Interest? The urge to belong to a ménage a trois? Drop a review and make a poor writer happy!