Talking Trash
By: For-Chan
Disclaimer: I donít own them.
Notes: This is theme four of the newlywed themes posted here. Today we're "Taking out the Garbage".


Kimblee looked up from the three month old magazine on how to be a better housewife as Archer walked out of the doctor's office. "So, what'd the doc say?"

"Stomach ulcers from stress. He gave me a prescription."Archer held up a small brown pharmacy bag.

"Good, I was beginning to think I got you pregnant the way you were throwing up all the time." Kimblee grinned as he tossed the magazine aside and stood up.

Archer glared at him. "I-"

"I know," Kimblee interrupted. "You hate me."

Archer snorted, not bothering to reply as he walked out of the base's medical offices.

"So you need to relax more?" Kimblee asked, following closely behind.

"That was suggested, yes."

"Let's go out for a drink then."

Archer looked at him skeptically.

"Come on. We can just relax, like normal people."

"We're not normal people," Archer pointed out.

Kimblee rolled his eyes. "I know that, it's just a comparison. You can at least give it a try."

Archer was silent for a while, before finally nodding his head. "All right."

"Great, there's a little bar down the street we can stop in."

"Wonderful," Archer murmured unenthusiastically.

"Come on, loosen up a little," Kimblee said as he threw an arm around Archer's shoulder. The muscles beneath his hand immediately tensed up. He squeezed lightly, ignoring Archer's annoyed look and slowly he began to relax beneath the casual touch. By the time they reached the bar, Archer was gingerly leaning into the contact.

The bar wasn't very large. There were a few beat up tables, a jukebox, and a pool table in addition to the bar. Two kids, who barely looked old enough to be there, were playing pool. A couple sat at one of the tables smoking and drinking beer and an old drunk was asleep at the corner of the bar. Kimblee dragged Archer up to the bar counter where they sat down on stools and ordered two cold beers from the bartender.

"See, this isn't so bad," Kimblee said as he took a sip of beer.

"It could be worse," Archer conceded.

"You're such a spoilsport."

Archer shrugged and took a sip of his own beer. He wasn't much of a drinker, but he enjoyed the occasional beer. The bar wasn't too smoky or too loud. There weren't many people there and the company wasn't half bad. Archer slowly felt himself begin to "loosen up" as Kimblee put it.

Kimblee watched as Archer relaxed, the tense set of his shoulders finally fading away. After a second beer, he was able to draw his partner into a civil conversation free of the usual shouting and death threats. He was pretty pleased with himself and how things were going. He even managed to put his hand on Archer's thigh without so much as a protest. He grinned, stroking the firm muscle beneath his fingers. A tiny smile was beginning to creep onto Archer's lips as he listened to another one of Kimblee's ridiculous tales of how he had tortured Mustang's troop that afternoon.

Unfortunately, the moment was easily shattered when one of the kids at the pool table made a loud comment to his buddy about "the fags at the bar." Kimblee watched all of his hard work go up in smoke as Archer tensed up and brushed the hand from his thigh. His face pinched tight and a hand went to his stomach. Kimblee turned, gold eyes narrowing at the loud mouthed asshole.

The bar stool scraped as Archer stood up. "I'm going to the restroom," he muttered, walking away stiffly.

Kimblee stood up and made his way to the pool table. The loud mouth's buddy took one look at Kimblee's expression and retreated. The idiot, on the other hand, glared at Kimblee in disgust and stood his ground. Kimblee wanted nothing more than to wipe the sneer off his lips with an angry display of alchemy, but refrained for the moment.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," Kimblee purred.

"Yeah? Maybe you were meant to."

"So, you have a problem with my partner and I having a drink at the bar?"

"I don't want no fuckin fags ruining my favorite bar."

"I see. Maybe you want to take this outside then?"

"Just don't scream like a girl when I break your face." The kid smirked.

"Oh, don't worry. I won't," Kimblee murmured as he walked past him and out of the bar. He turned the corner and waited.

The idiot came after him with the pool stick. Kimblee easily dodged a clumsy swing, pushing the stick aside and retreated.

"What the fuck?" The kid shouted as the pool stick exploded, burning his hand and sending fiery splinters into his skin.

"You should really watch who you mouth off to kid," Kimblee hissed as he leapt forward and slammed him into the wall. He touched the punk's arms and blisters bubbled up from his skin, turning a sickly green before exploding with quiet, squelching pops. "Fags have feelings too you know," he whispered sweetly, running his fingers down the side of the kid's face. More ugly blisters bubbled up along his fingers' path. The formerly cocksure young man whimpered in fear, staring at Kimblee with the wide eyed gaze of a frightened animal. He pulled the kid away from the wall and pushed him into the street. "Now get the fuck out of here before I really show you what this faggy alchemist can do." The kid scrambled to his feet and bolted as Kimblee's laugh echoed behind him.

Kimblee strolled back into the bar, ignoring the curious looks of the couple and the bartender as he headed for the restroom. Archer was standing at the sink, rinsing his mouth out and looking paler than usual. Kimblee walked over and put his hands on his shoulders, rubbing away the tension.

"This is why you need to relax more."

Archer shrugged off his hands. "Shut up. I didn't have ulcers before you came along."

"Baby, you always look like you have a stick up your ass, don't blame it all on me." He watched Archer's reflection in the mirror.

"Asshole," Archer muttered.

"Maybe." Kimblee shrugged.

After a moment of silence, Archer turned. "What took you so long? You're usually all over me when I run off sick."

"Sorry babe," Kimblee said, sliding his arms around Archer's waist. "I had a little trash to take out."


Geez! This theme gave me a lot of trouble! Argh! I rewrote it three times! I am finally satisfied. Well, partially satisfied, but it I work on if anymore, my head might explode! I could have just taken the easy out and had Kimblee and Archer arguing over taking out the garbage, but I'm trying to avoid the easy outs here. It's too easy to have the matching outfits theme be military uniforms. It's too easy to take out garbage. I have to make it hard on myself ^_^;; Anyway, hope you're enjoying the efforts.

Next - All You Need