Chapter Text
Undercover /ˌəndərˈkəvər / adjective - (of a person or their activities) working secretly within a community or organization, especially for the purposes of police investigation; engaged in securing confidential information under a false appearance.
In the end, the girls mostly saved themselves. Ed’s presence just…hurried things along a little.
The evening gown portion of the competition went off without a hitch. All of the girls (and Ed) looked gorgeous in their long dresses, and no one so much as stumbled at any point of the procession. Once each girl walked the short runway solo and did her little turn before the judges, they all lined up again and proceeded backstage to clear the platform for the talent performances.
Backstage was all carefully-contained chaos, with the girls and a fair few chaperones running back and forth between the dressing rooms and the waiting area looking for stockings and hairpins and touching up makeup and grabbing props and instruments and costumes.
“There you are! Thank god; can I borrow your lipstick? I can’t find mine anywhere and Sierra has disappeared and I’m up next, and…”
“Hold still, dearie, we have to fix this tear in your skirt! Just a moment, now…”
“Momma! Momma! Where’s my pink bow?”
“You look gorgeous, sugar; you’re gonna do just fine out there! Deep breath, now…”
“Don’t fuss, darling, we’re almost done…there we are! Much better…”
Ed had the second to last time slot, just before Isabelle, so rather than rush to change out of his long red gown, he took the opportunity to observe the dizzying activity, wondering whether the culprit was somewhere among them.
One of Juliet’s people, who had been assigned as Ed’s hairdresser, hustled over to him and pretended to fuss with his shiny golden curls. Leaning close, she whispered that Juliet and her partner had had to leave in a hurry – there had been yet another threat made this afternoon.
Ed nodded to show he understood, even as a trickle of unease crept up his spine. He was frustrated to be stuck here while the real action was going down elsewhere, sure, but there was something else…something prickling at his subconscious…
Isabelle’s sunflower-yellow gown caught Ed’s eye, and he idly watched her cross the room. She was walking with a man he hadn’t seen before, who held her by the wrist, and Ed realized suddenly that they were arguing in low voices. No one else appeared to have noticed, preoccupied with their own preparations.
Except for gentle, sweet Bianca, who stiffened as they passed her. She hesitated, and then visibly steeled herself to approach the couple, just as Isabelle planted her feet and refused to take another step.
“Isabelle? Is…is everything all right?” Bianca asked, eyes glued to the crushing grip of the man’s hand around Isabelle’s wrist.
“I-it’s nothing, Bianca, you should –oh!” Isabelle flinched and tried to pull her arm away. “Foster, let GO; I said I’m not leaving with you!”
Her cry drew the attention of several of the others backstage, and Ed carefully kicked off his heels in anticipation of a fight.
“Enough!” the man, Foster, snarled. “I have been more than patient! I have watched you parade yourself around like a painted whore, showing off for all those disgusting old men. I’ve seen how they look at you; how they undress you with their eyes,” he hissed. Isabelle whimpered as he tightened his grip and yanked her closer.
“What?” she gasped. “What are you—?”
“It’s always the same, wherever you go, you little slut,” he growled. “I warned you! I told you not to come here! And I told them I’d blow this place sky-high if the pageant went on, but they wouldn’t listen! I was just trying to keep my fiancée from making a spectacle of herself in front of everyone, but you still insisted– well, I’ve had enough of this! You are MINE!”
“No, I’m NOT,” Isabelle managed, struggling in earnest now. “And for the last time: I am not your fiancée!”
“Wait, you were the one calling in bomb threats?” Ed asked, incredulous. Juliet had been right about the stalker after all, then. “Was there ever even a bomb, or were you bluffing the whole time?”
“What? No!” Foster snapped. “Like I’d risk blowing myself up? Stupid little bitch!”
“That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say,” Ed said with a slow grin. Eyes flicking between Isabelle and her assailant, he watched for an opening. He just needed to wait until the man shifted his weight, just so, and then—
And then Bianca lost her head and threw herself between Edie and the other pair.
“Let her go, you-you brute!” Bianca cried, balling her fists at her sides. She was clearly terrified, but she stood firm as Foster turned on her, sneering.
“Or what? Are you going to stop me, little girl?” he mocked.
“Yes, she is. And so are we,” Magnolia said coolly. Beside her, Merida (who was supposed to be up next) drew one of her arrows from her quiver and took careful aim. Behind them both, Shang moved to block the exit with folded arms and a formidable glare. The commotion had drawn everyone’s attention, now, and people were streaming out of the dressing rooms to join the small crowd forming all around them.
Had Ed not been involved at all, they’d have handled things just fine on their own. Of this fact he had no doubt. But then Foster wrapped one burly arm around Isabelle’s neck, and drew a wicked looking knife with this other hand, and started shouting something about how if he couldn’t have her, then no one else could either.
And Ed had seen enough.
“Everyone, stay back!” he yelled. “This creep is mine!”
He dropped to one knee, ignoring the sound of tearing fabric as he clapped his hands together and slammed both palms on the floor. The crackle of alchemic reaction raced along the ground between them, but before Foster could do more than yell, the ground beneath their feet rippled and bucked.
Off balance, Foster released his hold on Isabelle, who stumbled and fell to her hands and knees, gasping for breath. The second she was clear, a giant hand manifested from the stone floor and wrapped itself around Foster, pinning his arms to his sides while he writhed and kicked and yelled in vain.
For a beat, the entire room was silent save for Foster’s ineffectual struggling.
“Oh,” Jasmine said suddenly. She was staring at Ed, eyes wide. “Oh.”
It broke the spell. Suddenly everyone was talking at once. The few parents and chaperones who had been backstage rushed to check on their various charges. Ella darted forward to help Isabelle to her feet, and Aurora quietly comforted a trembling Bianca. Magnolia sidled up behind the still raving Foster and whispered something that made the other man freeze and fall silent.
Merida writhed free from her mother’s terrified embrace and launched herself at Ed.
“I thought you said you weren’t any good at alchemy, Edie!” she cried, crushing him in a fierce hug.
“I’m sorry, I lied,” Ed confessed, dropping the feminine lilt he’d been using up until then. Merida startled and pulled back. “Also, I’m not really Edie,” he said. Those close enough to hear him fell silent at his words, so that nearly the whole crowd heard his next confession. “My name is Ed. Edward Elric. And I’m-I’m, uh, not actually a girl.”
“Oh my god, not AGAIN,” Shang choked out. Magnolia broke down into slightly hysterical giggles. Ed turned towards them with a raised eyebrow, but that would have to be a story for another time.
“Wait a minute!” Charlotte La Bouff interrupted loudly. “Edward Elric? You’re the Fullmetal Alchemist!”
“Well, obviously,” Jasmine huffed.
“The what now?” Tiana asked weakly, glancing between them.
“Oh you know, Tiana sugar, that genius wunderkind prodigy who made State Alchemist when he was only twelve,” Charlotte said brightly. “There was a big ol’ fuss about it in all the papers at the time, remember I said to you what a cute little thing he was? I’ve gotta say, baby,” she said, whirling on Ed. “You are really rocking that eyeliner. Poor darling, you’ve had to wear a padded bra and everything this whole entire time, haven’t you? And that’s your natural hair, right, not a wig? What conditioner do you use?”
“Lottie, oh my god,” Tiana wheezed, bent double with laughter.
Merida’s mother had a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide and scandalized.
“The automail…oh, how did I miss that?” she whispered. Merida rolled her eyes.
“Relax, mother, it’s not like he was even in the dressing rooms with any of us! So he’s a boy, what’s the big deal?” In spite of her defiant words, there was a tremor in her voice.
“Oh, Merida, that’s not what I’m upset about,” Eleanor sighed.
“Edie- I mean, um, Edward,” Isabelle said shakily. Ed turned slowly to face her. She was still sitting on the ground, wrapped in Ella’s protective embrace. Ella was looking up at him, too, with an unreadable expression on her pretty face. “Or Ed, or whatever your name really is,” Isabelle went on. “I just–I want to thank you. For saving me.”
Ed rubbed the back of his neck, awkward in the face of her genuine appreciation.
“This is the guy you were talking about before, right?” he asked, gesturing at Foster. “The one who wouldn’t leave you alone?” Isabelle nodded. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore,” Ed promised. “Those bomb threats got the MPs involved, you know, and they don’t mess around with that sort of thing.” He offered her a cocky grin, relieved when she gave him a tiny smile in return.
“Suddenly I understand why Roy always complains about you, Ed,” Juliet spoke up from behind him.
“Major!” he cried, whirling. “About time you guys showed up!”
“We’ve actually been here for a while now, kid,” she explained, waving a hand around the room. Ed realized that the place was flooded with Investigations officers, taking statements and herding panicked civilians and staring at Ed’s improvised restraints with varying degrees of perplexity. “We made it back just in time to catch your little act of vandalism and property destruction, there.”
“I’ll put it back,” he pouted. Juliet just laughed at him.
“I’m only teasing you, Ed. You did great,” she said softly.
“Excuse me, Major, was it?” Merida’s mother interrupted them. Juliet turned to her with some surprise.
“Uh, yes ma’am? Major Juliet O’Hara; what can I do for you?” Juliet asked.
“Major Juliet O’Hara, am I correct in assuming that this child was acting as an undercover operative for Military Investigations?” Eleanor demanded. Juliet and Ed exchanged bewildered glances. Eleanor drew herself up to her full height. “Just what is the meaning of involving a teenage girl - pardon me, a teenage boy- in such a serious and dangerous investigation? He could have been injured!” she cried.
“Look, no one is more aware of that fact than I am, ma’am,” Juliet tried, placating.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses! Now you listen here, young lady!”
Ed felt something pluck at his sleeve.
“She’ll probably be at this for a while,” Merida whispered. “If you want to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, now’s your chance to make a break for it.”
“Thanks,” Ed grinned at her, and then sobered abruptly. “Look, I really am sorry for lying to you; it’s just—”
Merida held up a hand to stop him.
“It’s your job; I get it. I mean, I’m pissed that you lied to everyone, but I get why you had to. Also, what the hell?! You’ve been a guy this whole time?!” Merida punched his arm, hard, and Ed winced. “Oh my god, and we were all gushing about boys and makeup and being super embarrassing—you know what, you’d better go before I change my mind about forgiving you!” she cried, covering her face with her hands.
Ed glanced around, but most of the other contestants had been swept away by their chaperones and families by now.
“Listen, Merida? If you see Bianca, will you tell her thanks from me? If it wasn’t for her, no one would have even noticed what was going on until it was too late to help Isabelle. It was stupid, but very brave of her to stand up to that guy. Also, I really hope I get to see her name up in lights someday.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll tell her,” Merida said. She was still flushed with embarrassment, but smiling a little too.
Ed flashed her another grin and jogged over to the stone hand, where his captive was still held firm. It was only after he’d released the man into the custody of the MPs (and smoothed the stone back into the ground from whence it came) that Ed remembered he was still wearing his red evening gown. And a lot of makeup. And that several of the MPs carried cameras to photograph evidence. And that some of them probably knew Mustang.
He’d never moved faster in his life.
After all was said and done, after filling out a staggering number of after action reports and sitting through endless meetings and answering dozens of inane questions, Ed thought he’d gotten away with it. Until he was standing in Mustang’s office, saying his farewells to Major O’Hara, with one foot literally out the door, and Mustang calmly asked him to wait a moment.
“Before you go, I wanted to offer my congratulations….Miss Congeniality,” the colonel smirked. He held up a small framed photograph, of Ed in his pretty red dress with his hair all done up in curls, makeup expertly applied, and a slightly manic smile pasted on his face.
He looked gorgeous.
The color drained from Ed’s face.
“What? How-?” he gasped. Mustang, the bastard, just chuckled.
“They sent it over by courier, along with a sash, a small cash prize, and an honest-to-god tiara,” he said, pointing at a small box on the corner of his desk.
“I—what?” Ed said, stupidly.
“Apparently, the title of Miss Congeniality is an award given to the friendliest, most amiable contestant, as determined by an actual vote among the contestants once the pageant is through,” Mustang explained, holding up the little placard that had come with the framed photo.
“I…but…you mean they—?” Ed stammered.
“I know; it’s like they’ve never even met you, isn’t it?” Mustang snarked. Ed scowled at him. “I think they meant it as a thank you, Fullmetal. Apparently there was one determined little redhead in particular who insisted that the pageant officials get this to you. Normally the contestant has to still actually be in the pageant, you see, but she and her mother were…persuasive. And the other contestants were quick to back them up.”
Ed stood frozen, equally horrified and touched by the gesture.
“It’s all here,” Mustang said, dropping the photo back into the box as though suddenly bored of the whole thing. “That was it; you’re dismissed. Now get out of my office.”
“Whatever,” Ed grumbled, snatching the box off the desk with another scowl for his superior officer. “I’m going to go donate this stupid cash prize to some random charity and pretend none of this ever happened. Bye, Major,” he added with a slightly less disgruntled frown for Juliet.
She managed to hold in the giggle until after the door had closed behind him.
“Aw, Roy, now he’s just gonna destroy the picture!” she said sadly. She never had managed to get a good shot of Ed all gussied up (although she had a few of him in his more casual get-ups.) And he’d made for a really cute girl.
“It’s like you think I gave him the only copy,” Mustang replied dryly.
“You didn’t- you made copies?” she cried, delighted.
“Of course I did,” he scoffed. “Who do you think you’re dealing with, here?”
“Oh Roy, you aren’t going to torture him with this, are you? You tease him too much,” she chided. “He’d probably look up to you if you didn’t mess with him all the time.”
“Please, I know exactly what I’m doing,” Mustang lied. “I’m not a monster; I’m not going to send them to his girlfriend or anything. They’re purely for entertainment and blackmail purposes.”
“Fair enough,” Juliet conceded, grinning. “It IS the Mustang way, after all. I hope you saved one for me!”