Rapacious Avarice

Summary: "No one in Devil's Nest had any idea exactly when the strange traveler from the East first appeared." But this strange traveler is going to do more than just spice up the bar, for as the plot unfolds, it turns out that the mysterious Xingese teen seems to know more than he should and do things he shouldn't…what secrets lie behind his squinted eyes and the gloves he never takes off? TIME TRAVEL, manga-based, 2003anime references, hinted/friends-with-benefits Greed/Ling/Greedling

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and all related properties belong to various Japanese companies and people I don't know the name of. Or else I wouldn't be writing here and Greed/Greedling would still be alive in the end of the 2003anime/manga, respectively. D,:

Chapter One

No one in Devil's Nest had any idea exactly when the strange traveler from the East first appeared. He could have been coming into the bar for weeks before anyone took notice; Devil's Nest had become insanely popular in the span of a simple year (likely because of the prostitutes and good liquor that frequented there). However, there was no doubt what day the traveler first became truly obvious to the owner of Devil's Nest and his humble(ish) workers.

It was more crowded than usual that night. Near the back of the room the Xingese man sat, nursing a single glass of a very light-weight liquor. Later the group would find out that this was the traveler's normal order, and he would stay nearly the whole night drinking that one glass and only rarely getting more. Anyway, so one of the regular customers was becoming particularly handsy with Martel even though she was clearly off-limits.

"C'mon, baaaaabe," slurred the drunkard, reaching out and grabbing Martel's waist as she was passing by. Surprised, Martel put up almost no resistance other than a surprised sound before glaring furiously at the customer. He either didn't notice or didn't care as his nearly illegible rambling continued. "Yer sucha stiff. Whydon'cha take tha night off'ya cutie? I'd show ya'a grand ol' time…"

"No," Martel said simply, moving to slip out of the man's grip. Her efforts were in vain for the time; the man merely scowled at her, red-faced, and stood up to tower over her with his bulky 6'6" frame while tightening his grip.

"Why not? Bangin'someone else?"

Martel turned red herself, looking steadily more pissed. "That is none of your business. Now let me go before I break your fingers."

The large drunk let out a booming laugh that made those nearby flinch, although the Xingese merely sipped at his alcohol silently from the booth behind him.

"Yer feisty, li'l cutie," he said in a failed attempt at being seductive. "I like that."

"Sick bastard," muttered Martel, glancing around subtly for any of the men in their group. She wasn't weak by any means (sparring with Dorochet freehanded and subsequently kicking his ass was one of her favorite pastimes), but the whole point of being in Dublith was to keep a low profile so that any soldiers looking out for their missing chimeras wouldn't catch wind of strangely fighting-oriented and flexible(Martel)/quick(Dorochet)/strong(Roa)/weird(Bido) people living together. Naturally, this caused a bit of a problem for Martel in situations such as this, when their "bouncer" Roa and the owner were both unavailable for the moment.

The man's expression twisted into one of drunken rage. "Wha'd'ya call me?"

Martel was unimpressed. "You heard me. Or are you stupider than you look?"

The rage became more pronounced and a fist went flying towards Martel's face. The snake chimera prepared to duck at the last minute—

"Whoops!" the Xingese man suddenly cried as he collided into the drunken man with his empty glass in hand. The drunkard was too unprepared and inebriated to keep his balance and crashed sideways, grip dropping from Martel as he landed heavily on the ground. The glass the Easterner had been holding "slipped" from his grip and smashed into the customer's face, shattering and imbedding small fragments throughout.

A scream pierced the bar as the drunken customer clawed at his face and unintentionally pushed the shards in further. Blood began to drip between his fingers and down his chin as Martel and the rest of the bar looked on with wide, shocked eyes.

"Sorry about that." The Easterner was standing next to Martel, rubbing the back of his head, slanted eyes appearing closed in embarrassment as he hovered near to the now-crying would-be assailant. "Guess I slipped. Here, let me help you up!"

Obviously-false grin in place, the man from the East easily raised the substantial weight of his still-sobbing victim and half dragged him towards the door while the rest of the bar looked on. A kick to open the wooden door (startling two people making out against the building), then a shove and a slam, and the unruly patron was out of the bar. Hopefully for good.

The young man turned around to find conversations hastily resumed as he walked back toward the unmoving Martel.

"You okay?" he asked, opening his eyes and stunning Martel with the purplish-grey color they were. If the pupils were slit and the grey was more of a soft red, she could almost believe this stranger had the same eyes as her "employer."

"I'm fine," she finally said, shaking herself out of her stupor. The Xingese grinned largely and squinted his eyes again while gesturing wildly with black-gloved hands.

"Good! I was kinda worried there for a minute that guy was going to do something stupid. Lucky I'm so clumsy, eh?"

He laughed at himself and Martel took that moment to look over her supposed savior. He was in his late teens, perhaps, and distinctly not from the country; with slanted eyes, deeply tanned skin, and much smoother hair than was normally found in Amestris combining with his noticeably thinner-than-average body structure, he could only be from the Eastern country of Xing. He was dressed semi-casually yet completely in black, with a long-sleeved trench coat over a thin skin-tight turtleneck and loose black cloth pants falling over boots that were once probably rather pricy, but now looked well-used and thoroughly scuffed.

"Where are my manners?" the teenager suddenly interrupted his own laughter, smiling widely at Martel as he stuck out a hand. "My name is Ling Greefan. And you?"

"Um," Martel began with a blink before cautiously taking the hand offered, "Martel."

The teenager grinned, and behind half-closed eyelids, grey turned to red and sparked with the essence of Greed…

Episode One
Regular Easterner

Ling Greefan soon after became well known around Devil's Nest by all who visited and/or worked in the front of the bar, with the notable exception of Greed, who oddly was never present when Ling was and visa-versa. But the dodging, intentional on Ling's part or not, was ended one day when Ling appeared at an oddly early time on the front stoop of Devil's Nest, seemingly unconscious and moaning something about being hungry.

An hour after Dorochet made the human discovery, everyone in Devil's Nest was watching with wide eyes as Ling finished his tenth helping of Roa's freshly-made (and now completely gone) meat-and-soup lunch. The Xingese teen let out a sigh of contentment and patted his stomach, chewing on a toothpick and grinning innocently at the dazed chef.

"That was great," he chirped happily, "thanks for the meal. You guys saved my life!"

"Who said that was free?" Dorochet asked with a scowl as he crossed his arms, looking ticked. "You just ate all our food!"

Ling laughed and casually flipped his hand about. "Details, details! Let's not worry about the small stuff, eh?"

"Why were you on out front anyway?" Martel asked from her spot leaning against the wall by the doorway, eyeing Ling with more amusement than the horror/shock/anger from the others in the room. "Normally you don't show up until about an hour into the service."

A blink of surprise caused Ling to open his eyes more than normal before they fell back into their squinted position, a gloved finger tapping his chin. "Huh. Didn't realize I was that obvious," he said in a playful tone of voice that hid some other emotion behind it. There was a pause before he shrugged and grinned again, leaning back in his chair casually. "Actually, I, ah…I kinda ran out of money recently."

Martel and Dorochet face-faulted while Roa sweatdropped, as did the secret observers behind the doorway leading to the back rooms of the bar.

"Ran out of money! ?" echoed Dorochet after he recovered, staring incredulously at Ling. "But you were in here last night buying your normal drink!"

"About that," Ling began, raising a finger with a casual air. The others stared expectantly at him. "That…was sort of my last ten senz."

Sweatdrops/face-faults reoccurred among the room at large.

"Don't you have a job?" Martel asked when she recovered. Ling shook his head with a long, put-upon sigh and shrug.

"Not many people around here are willing to offer a job to a foreigner," he admitted with the faintest bitterness. "Maybe if I was in Central, I could get one, but in a town like Dublith with the Great Desert and Ishval camps so close, everyone's weary of those who're different."

"That seems to always be the case," Roa uttered somberly.

A moment of silence passed.

"You should come meet our boss," Martel suddenly said, making two gazes snap incredulously in her direction and one curiously.

"You mean the owner of Devil's Nest?" queried Ling with obvious intrigue and innocence.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Dorochet hedged, staring pointedly at Martel. The seemingly-oblivious Ling tilted his head.

"Why? I get along with a lot of people…unless he's a monster or something."

Ling snickered at his own joke as the others in the room exchanged worried glances. The Xingese clearly noted this when his laughter abruptly cut off.

"If nothing else, he'll want to thank you for stopping that mess a while ago," Martel said and effectively broke the light tension in the room. "And maybe he could even give you a job here."

"Really?" Ling asked, leaning forward curiously. His squinted eyes opened a bit more than usual to reveal the dark irises to the room as he seemed to change the topic. "What's your boss like?"

There was a long pause as the chimeras looked at each other for information.

"He's…interesting," Dorochet began slowly. "A good boss; gave us jobs and helps us out of trouble,"

"Intimidating, but only if you cross him," Roa cut in,

"And he's rather…ah…" Martel continued,

"Greedy," the trio finished together with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Ling blinked before squinting his eyes again and smiling widely.

"Sounds like we'd get along just fine," he announced, standing and stretching his arms out. His shirt pulled up and only Roa noticed the dark scar trailing to Ling's right hip in a slashing pattern, making the ox chimera wonder with amazement what exactly their acquaintance had fought in the past to get such a nasty wound.

"So," Ling went on, snapping Roa from his thoughts as the scar disappeared under Ling's shirt, "where is your boss? When can I meet him?"

"How 'bout now?" a voice called from the entry that was now barren of less humanoid chimeras and instead held their employer, sunglasses in place and smirk twisting his lips. The chimera trio quickly ducked out of the way as the man pushed off from the doorframe and sauntered over to stand before the now-indecipherable Ling, sticking out a tattooed hand in greeting. "The name's Greed. And I hear I owe ya a 'thanks,' kid."

After a moment of simply staring at the homunculus with an unreadable expression, the teenager carefully took the offered hand as though expecting Greed to lash out as soon as he came too close. "Ling Greefan."

Greed blinked curiously before taking back his hand, sticking both on his hips and leaning forward to inspect Ling with his purple-red eyes over the top of his sunglasses. "'Ling,' eh? Sounds kinda foreign."

A grin split Ling's face. "'Greed' is not exactly a normal name either," he chirped brightly. There was a brief, tense pause before Ling effortlessly broke it. "My family's from Xing and 'Ling' is a traditional name for first-born sons. Or 'Lin' if the first-born is female."

None of those in the room could hear any difference between the two names, but they didn't bring attention to that fact; Greed merely made a little, "huh," sound of curiosity and nodded as if everything in the world suddenly made sense.

"So back to the whole 'owing ya' thing," Greed said, bringing the conversation back to where he wanted it. Ling tilted his head to one side in curiosity during the following pause. "I may have overheard Martel mentioning giving you a job around here. And I may have some openings available…assuming you're up to doing, ah, 'alternative' styles of work."

Ling was silent for a moment. His head tilted the other way, thoughtful frown in place. The chimeras in the room slowly began to tense in preparation. Only Greed remained as visibly relaxed as their thoughtful guest, simply waiting for a response.

A sudden smile slipped onto Ling's face and he gently pounded one fist into his open palm, the sound of leather hitting leather echoing softly. "Oh, you mean like illegal stuff!" he announced cheerfully. Dorochet stared at Ling like he was stupid, Martel smacked her forehead in exasperation, Roa sweatdropped, and Greed seemed entertained as he shrugged.

"I'm not saying that," he smoothly corrected, smirk in place. Ling nodded a few times, seemingly ignoring his potential employer's words.

"Right, right, of course. It's like a secret gang or something you've got going on here. Sure explains a lot of things I've noticed."

"Such as?"

Ling merely smiled wordlessly for a few seconds before returning to the topic of the potential job. "It sounds like fun," he chirped, cracking his eyes open to reveal his smoky-violet eyes sparkling with mischief and perhaps something a bit darker. "I'm in."

Greed gave a leering, sharp-tooth grin. "You sure? You don't even know all the details, Squinty."

Eyes snapped closed abruptly at the nickname, but Ling continued to smile (although as it twitched a little). "Yes, well. I think I can figure most of them out."

"Oh?" uttered Greed curiously, crossing his arms over his chest and quirking a brow with not necessarily disbelief, but likely an emotion close to it (it was hard to tell behind his sunglasses).

"Mmmm," Ling hummed quietly, stuffing his gloved hands in the pockets of his loose pants. "It isn't that hard if you know what you're looking for."

A silence once more fell as Greed carefully eyed his potential new employee, the chimera trio in the back feeling the hairs on their bodies rise in response to the building tension. It seemed thickest between the black-clothed duo before them.

"Alright then," Greed simply said and the pressure suddenly dissipated as if it was only in the minds of the observers all along. "We can start with figuring out what you'd be best at and work from there."

Ling's serene but roguish smile was his only response.

-END-

MKL's Post-Production Notes (3-5-12): This story is an experiment. I'm only going to continue it if I recieve a decent response from you, the readers. Which isn't to say I'm blackmailing reviews (that's just wrong), but simply that I'm working on two other stories on my own plus one colaboration fiction at the same time I'm writing this story so if I don't get enough interest, I'm going to focus on those for now. If I don't get a lot of interest, then I'll just work on it when I'm done with one or two of the other stories I've got...likely in a few months. :) So review if you want to see it continued...or don't. Either way is fine with me. ^.^