He sat with his knees exposed, his hair wet and soapy, the tin tub scenting the water strongly, and let Greed hold a mirror up to him. He shaved by this, soap and a straight razor and a scrap of mirror. "Why?" he asked, working on a tricky angle by his ear.

"You stank." Greed grinned, pointed teeth making the expression broader, nastier.

"Not that." He acknowledged the point with a faint grin, tilting his head back to let the razor scrape along under his chin. "Rescuing the human chimeras, that I can get, but some old alchemist who's been shut up for six years and has gotten rusty?"

Greed laughed, shifting the mirror. "Bullshit you're rusty. But, you want to know?"

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

The mirror dropped and shattered, seven years bad luck, and Greed leaned in, placed his hand against the razor against Kimberly's throat. Kimberly froze.

"You're a man of simple needs," Greed murmured. "Freedom and the ability to kill; that's all you want out of life."

Kimberly's chin tilted up and a drop of red stained the water. "And a mirror to shave with," he said, voice dry.

Greed laughed, letting go of Kimberly's hand and fetching one of the larger shards from the floor. "I prefer people with simple needs," he said. "They don't get in the way of my own."

Kimberly looked at him, then began to move the razor again. "Hold it a bit to the left."