ext_158887 ([identity profile] seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] 31_days2010-08-19 03:50 pm

[Aug. 19] [Fullmetal Alchemist] Go on Foot, Go Alone

Title: Go on Foot, Go Alone
Day/Theme: Aug. 19. 2010 "he who travels fastest goes alone"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Solf J. Kimblee, his brother, a cab driver
Rating: PG


The cab pulled up in front of their building and Lon hoped out with hesitation, holding his folio of papers carefully against his chest. A splash of murky gutter water followed his step. He didn't appear to notice the spots spattered across the leg of his pants, but Solf did. He was always careful to mind the gutter. South City wasn't as flat as it appeared. Their apartment was situated in something of a dip.

"You're not getting out here?" the driver, a familiar young man with Ishvalan features asked curiously as Solf made no move to exit the car.

"I have a job to attend to, so I'm going to need to employ you to take me a little bit further."

Lon turned around curiously as he saw he was nearing the front step on his own. "Solf? Did you forget something?"

It wasn't exactly like that. He never forgot and he didn't care to lie to his brother. "No, I just have one last thing to take care of, but I think it's better for me to go alone."

Lon tipped his head and lips curled into a confused frown. It wasn't a good idea to press Solf for further details. Chances were he wouldn't give them. Gradually Lon was getting the feeling that since they had come to live and work in South City that Solf was doing a lot of things he wouldn't approve of. He might even have something to do with the criminal elements in town, like the Westside Gang or the so-called "Mad Bomber" who'd been plaguing the industrial district. Solf didn't tell and he was afraid to ask. "You're sure? I like helping out with your errands."

"No," he solemnly shook his head, "I think it's best that I go alone." He appreciated that Lon was, at least, the good sort of brother who would respect his wishes. The messy-haired youth nodded and walked to the door, waving as Solf as the cab pulled away.

"Where to next, boss?"

"Just as far as the corner of the Meryl-Lowens textile mill, please. It's a job I have to tend to on foot, so that's as far as you can take me."

Quarash followed his instructions to the tee. He'd taken both Kimblees around the city plenty of times, but this was the most the older brother had ever spoken to him about himself or his work. It struck him as ominous, but he was only the cab driver. It wasn't his place to ask. He wondered if he was happy to hear this little bit of information, however dark, or if he was regretting it already.

He'd watched both of them for all the months he'd thought of them as "regulars." He was beginning to think the elder brother kept the younger as much in the dark as he did his favored cabbie.

"And we're here."

"Indeed." Solf closed the door softly before Quarash had a chance to insist that he had overpaid. The young driver hurried to roll down the window before the man in white was out of sight. "Mr. Kimblee! Your change-"

Solf tipped his hat to the driver. "Keep it. It's a tip."