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Situation Normal
Author: Sleeps with Coyotes
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Yaoi
Pairing: Ed x Roy
Status: Complete
Summary: I just went on a date with Edward Elric.
Winry was acting strange. Most people would say that was nothing
new, but Ed knew better. There was a difference between this new
level of distraction and her usual inattention to anything not welded
together or in need of an oil change, and he wasn't sure he liked
it. For one thing, she never used to fumble her tools like this.
"Oh!" as she juggled a screwdriver and a spanner, both of them
clattering to the floor a moment later. She swooped down on them
and popped back up with a nervous grin, and then she started babbling
at him before he could tease her. "Oops, sorry! Guess I'm a
little clumsy today--good thing this isn't a hospital, huh? I
mean, you'd hate to have a doctor drop a scalpel and grab it off
the...um...maybe I should...I'll be right back!"
She was gone before Ed could get a word in, escaping to the back room
to tear through her toolboxes, and he frowned after her as he shifted
on the worktable where he sat. Metal grated against metal as his
heel scraped the tabletop, and he thought again about transmuting
himself a pillow before his ass went completely to sleep. Also,
sitting here in his boxers with his shirt off was starting to get
chilly.
Glancing over at the towering shape in the corner, he whispered, "Hey,
Al...is it just me, or is Winry acting weird?"
Al stammered and coughed, an odd sound coming from the depths of an
animated suit of armor, and Ed narrowed his eyes. For a moment
there, Al sounded suspiciously like Winry. "Um...you...I mean,
she...er...."
Ed scowled, though one of his brows arched helplessly at his brother's
display. "What is with
you people lately?" he demanded, not really expecting an answer.
He hadn't gotten one yet, though he'd taken to asking more often
recently. Loudly, and with twice as much arm-waving as the
question had ever merited before.
"It's nothing!" Al squeaked, one huge hand lifting to rasp sheepishly
over the back of his head. "Really!"
Ed sighed. That was what they all said.
It was strange to be in Winry's workshop and not back in their old
village, to see how easily their friend had adapted to life in Central
City. She'd been so awed by it all five years ago, staring at the
tall buildings and the newest machines like a kid in a candy
store. She was casual about life in the city now, confident in
her skills and sure of her place. Winry's grandmother was still
around, as tough and no-nonsense as ever, though Winry herself dealt
more and more with the bulk of their trade. They were easily the
best auto-mail technicians in the region, and Ed had no qualms about
trusting Winry with his own metal limbs if she said it was time for a
tune-up.
Through the open windows, the rumble of a passing convoy truck grew
louder and then faded away in a flash of blue, reminding him of the
other reason he was here: delaying his report to the
Colonel. It was so firmly a tradition, Ed toyed now and then with
the idea of marching straight to headquarters the moment he got off the
train, just to catch Mustang unprepared.
Next time, he promised himself
with a shark's grin, already anticipating the look of shock that would
cross those usually-serene features, that split-second when Ed, not the
Colonel, would have unquestionable control of the situation. It
would have been a wonderful birthday present to himself if he'd only
thought of it a few months earlier, but winter had come and gone on yet
another mission and he'd forgotten the date entirely.
Definitely next time.
The breeze that fluttered the curtains smelled of spring, cool and
still heavy with the morning's dew, summer no more than a hint in the
air. It eddied thickly through the room, ruffling papers and
diagrams before curling around him where he sat, the sharp, clean smell
reminding him of home. Shivering, he reached up with his good
hand and clasped his metal shoulder, rubbing at the spot where
auto-mail met flesh. It didn't hurt, really, but it often ached
until he sometimes thought it'd never go away. Even the Colonel
had noticed, hinting broadly that Ed might want to visit Central's
newest auto-mail specialists before that hint became an order.
Stupid Colonel. Like he needed an order to look after
himself. He wasn't a kid, after all.
"All right! Nurse Winry, back with a new--Ed? Are you all
right?"
He blinked and found Winry hovering in the doorway, a gleaming new
screwdriver brandished forgotten in one hand as she fixed a concerned
look on him. Shaking himself, he grinned and shrugged, letting
his hand fall into his lap.
"Of course. You didn't really just sterilize that screwdriver,
did you?"
Winry blushed. Again.
"C'mon, Ed--my parents were doctors,"
she protested, aggrieved. "Do you know what my mother would've
said if she caught me using a dirty screwdriver on a human being?"
"To wash your hands while you were at it?"
Wide-eyed, she glanced down at her oil-smeared hands for a long moment
before she looked up, glared, and planted them stubbornly on her hips,
ignoring the stains they left behind. "You're impossible!"
"You shouldn't tease her so much, brother," Al agreed, his voice shyer
than usual.
"I know, I know...never make fun of a girl with a wrench."
"Hmph! I should say not," Winry said with a sniff, but at least
she was over her blushing fit. This time when she stalked over to
him, she was the same old Winry he'd always known--smart, competent,
and grounded.
Watching her poke and prod at his metal arm and leg was morbidly
fascinating. He'd been congratulating himself on having a good
grasp of how they worked--he'd had five years to get used to them,
after all--but Winry just hummed and frowned, making tiny adjustments
that made them somehow...better. When he flexed his arm as she
bent over his ankle, the fluidity of motion made his brows climb in
silent respect.
"How does that feel?" she asked distractedly, mumbling around the
handle of a second, smaller screwdriver stuck in her mouth.
"Looser, but not too loose. It's like it has more give, but it
feels as strong as before."
"Mm." She rotated his foot, left and then right, watching the
shift of his ankle joints as they slid. "We designed your limbs
to self-correct for some of the ordinary wear and tear on the gears,
but there's always fine-tuning that has to be done by a
technician. We even experimented on some new modifications for
when you outgrew this set, but you didn't...erm...."
Ed scowled. "Didn't what?"
"Nothing!" Winry squeaked, carefully not looking at anything but the
ankle she was tinkering with, and Ed suppressed a sigh. It was always 'nothing.'
And he was always going to be short. Damn it.
"Anyway," Winry added quickly, "let's take a look at your knee."
He was patient with all the fussing as she had him swing his legs over
the side of the worktable, straightening his leg out in front of him
and bending it again as she switched screwdrivers and poked around some
more. Sometimes it hurt, but he was careful never to flinch, not
where Al might see. His brother felt guilty enough as it was over
Ed's missing limbs, and Ed wasn't about to add to that.
"Got it!" Winry crowed suddenly, flashing a triumphant smile as she
dropped to one knee. "Here, just--"
Her hand was warm as she shoved at his thigh, undamaged flesh above the
metal--and then she almost dropped her screwdriver again as she
snatched her hand away. "Um...hold still," she muttered, long
blond hair sweeping forward to curtain her face as she dipped her head
quickly to the task, but not so quickly that he missed her blush.
Which soured Ed's mood entirely. Lately people had been acting
weird everywhere he went, but he'd hoped Winry at least would be normal
around him. It wasn't like he was universally loved or anything,
but at least he'd been able to hold an actual conversation with a girl
six months ago. Even the guys his age were acting funny, either
spoiling for a fight or stammering almost as badly as the girls.
It was enough to make anyone paranoid, and he meant to corner Hughes as
soon as possible and find out what weird rumors were circulating about
him this time.
"There, that should do it!" Winry said lightly, scrambling to her feet
and backing off a quick two paces, her cheeks still pink. "You
should go easy on yourself for the rest of the day, try the changes out
first, but you should be fine. Just come back in immediately if
your auto-mail starts to feel uncomfortable in any way!"
"Great," he said, wincing a little at his flat tone of voice. "I
mean, thanks."
"Anytime!" Her smile didn't fade, but her determined cheer lost a
little of its force.
Al just looked back and forth between them and sighed.
"I don't get it--has everybody lost their minds? I wish we
could've found Psiren--if this is what it's like to be famous, she
could've told us. Okay, maybe not--she is a masked criminal,
after all, so I don't suppose she gets a chance to talk with many of
her fans. Damn it. Why don't we know anyone famous?"
Al would've bitten his tongue if he still had one, but he settled for
trudging along silently in his brother's wake. He even took back
all the unkind thoughts he'd had at the beginning of this mess.
Ed wasn't being purposefully oblivious--he was just plain
clueless. And Al wasn't about to explain the birds and the bees
to his older brother.
"Or maybe it's a plot. Somebody's put something in the water, or
maybe it's subliminal messages...and we wouldn't be affected, because
we move around so much. Which means there's probably a mission
waiting for us the minute I report. Hmph."
He supposed Ed had always been a cute kid, although using that word in Ed's hearing was as
good a way to commit suicide as any. It was just that Ed had
grown up--even if the 'up' was rather lacking--into a...a...what had
that girl in YousWell called him? Oh yes. A knockout. Which on some
levels just wasn't fair. Ed was the older one, the genius, the
famous National Alchemist--did he have to be the good-looking one
too? But this was Ed, after all, so of course his looks were
causing him more grief than anyone else's plainness ever could.
"Not that it'll sound like a
mission to stop a mind-control plot. Not while Colonel Mustang's
giving the orders. 'There's a chicken farm in Dublith I want you
to investigate. Please give it your full attention,
Edward-kun.' Because of course
that's supposed to suggest to me that dastardly works are afoot and
that we'll probably be fighting for our lives the minute we step off
the train. Chickens are deadly weapons in the right hands, after
all."
It was just...hard, seeing Winry blush over Ed like the rest of
them. The three of them had always been friends, but he'd always
thought Ed liked Winry because she didn't act like a girl, and Winry
had always wanted a big brother to boss around. It was a little
different between the two of them. Al had never minded that Winry
was a girl, and he was the one Winry told her secrets to, even when she
and Ed were bickering. He'd even asked her to marry him once, and
she'd said yes. Okay, so they were six at the time...but that
counted, didn't it?
"Just once, I'd like to get the better of that smirking bastard...just once! If he tries it again,
I'll transmute his chair. Only sneaky-like, so he can't prove
it's me. Hey, maybe I am
learning something from him!"
It didn't matter, though. Ed could...Ed was still normal, after all. A few
limbs were nothing, really. Ed was still human--he still had a
body, and he could.... What girl wanted a boyfriend who couldn't
even kiss her? It seemed strange to him sometimes, that he
couldn't remember what it felt like to touch another person but never
forgot that he wanted to,
fiercely. The only thing that made it bearable was knowing that
his brother didn't want Winry back. Admittedly, Ed just hadn't
figured it out yet, but....
"Bam, right on his ass! In front of the Fuhrer, maybe....
Wait, is a Colonel allowed to sit in front of the Fuhrer? Maybe I
should transmute his uniform instead. Heh. I wonder how our
Colonel would look in a dress...."
Ed would, eventually. Probably. And now Al felt bad about
hoping he wouldn't, because Ed was so consumed by his search for the
Philosopher's Stone it even scared Al sometimes. Not because he
ever worried about what Ed might do to get the Stone, but because he
was afraid the search itself would become Ed's entire life. Al
had the terrible feeling that he could stop Ed right now and tell him
point-blank that Winry had a crush on him, and it wouldn't matter.
"Roy Mustang in a dress. Heh-heh."
Love ought to matter. He knew his brother loved him, purely and
unconditionally, but there ought to be someone special. Someone
who made Ed feel things just by being there, who could distract him
from their search and the countless failures. Someone who could
be his brother's equal.
Alphonse smiled inwardly at that and looked down to gaze fondly at his
brother--and froze, realizing Ed was inexplicably missing.
"Brother?" he called, twisting around with a thread of worry spiking in
his mind. Maybe something had gone wrong with the auto-mail, or
maybe Ed had been attacked--
Or maybe he was bent over in the middle of the street, hands braced on
his knees, howling with laughter. Al sighed and went back to
collect his mad relation, nodding sheepishly at the people staring at
them. As if Ed didn't draw enough attention when he was quiet....
"I shouldn't ask, should I?"
"Dress!"
Al sighed again. "I didn't think so."
Oh well. The Colonel could straighten him out. By one means
or another, the man always did.
Not that he didn't like to see Edward in a good mood, but a snickering
Edward was often a good reason to send his staff home early for the
day. Chances were they'd need it.
So he watched very closely, if covertly, as Ed made the rounds, saying
hello to Hawkeye--who had his
old office and post but who graciously came to visit when time
allowed--and nodding to Bruder and Farman, eyeing Havoc suspiciously
and cornering Huey to ask in a roundabout fashion where Hughes might be
found. Ignoring Al, who was playing with the dog Roy himself
ignored and therefore allowed. Business as usual.
So he wasn't too worried as he signed off on the last of the emergency
requests Huey had readied for him and stood to return to his
office. It was understood that Ed would slouch in on his own if
Roy didn't make an issue of his presence, though Roy occasionally did
it anyway to keep the chain of command clear in both their minds.
And so it was quite a surprise when Ed patted Huey on the shoulder in
thanks and turned immediately to face him with a wide and wicked
grin. "Excuse me, but do you have time to hear my report,
Colonel?"
If there was such a place as Hell, then all the alchemists that must
surely reside there had just transmuted it into a solid block of ice.
"Of course, Edward-kun. Step into my office."
This promised to be an interesting encounter, at least. As if
they were ever anything but.
Ed was the very model of the polite subordinate as he jerked an exact
bow before Roy's desk and slid a sheaf of papers across...but the
wicked gleam never left his eyes, and for some reason, he seemed to be
staring at Roy's chest. Odd. He should probably make sure
none of his insignias had been transmuted into anything inappropriate
before he left his office again, just in case.
Ed's eyes narrowed suddenly, pausing as Roy reached for the report--and
yes, a slight smirk at the thought of revenge must have escaped after
all, because the mischief in Ed's stare went suddenly cagey.
Which made him smirk all the more. If Edward thought he had what
it took....
"Please, have a seat," he invited suddenly, and Ed jumped a fraction
before stalking over to the couch and flopping gracelessly down.
The younger man arranged himself in his usual sprawl in seconds, legs
crossed with one foot kicking air, one arm draped over the couch back
with the other fist propping up his chin, the picture of bored
insouciance. While Ed wasn't looking, Roy's smirk morphed briefly
into an honest grin, but he had his detached commander's face back on
before Ed's glare slid his way again.
"Hmm." He flipped through pages and made a pretense of reading
them, though he'd already heard about most of the brothers' exploits
weeks ago. He could simply say
so, ask the few questions that needed asking and file the mission away
as a success, but it was far more entertaining to watch Ed squirm from
over the top of a grudgingly-completed report. For someone who
could spend hours all but motionless in the National Library's
notoriously uncomfortable chairs, Ed had remarkably little patience for
cozy offices and leather couches.
"I see," he murmured after a long pause and turned another page.
Ed shifted again, now playing with his braid, drumming the fingers of
his outstretched arm.
There was something about the twitchings of a small animal that made it
absolutely irresistible to a cat.
"So. I see you left the city standing, at least. This time."
"We shored it back up," Ed protested through gritted
teeth, determinedly not looking his way.
"Ah, yes. The heroes of Aquroya. It's a pity Psiren wasn't
there to congratulate you, but I believe she's moved on to South City
these days."
Ah, and there was one of his favorite expressions as Ed's head came up
and whipped towards him, chagrined disbelief branded across his face
before it went sullen again. Ed never bothered asking how Roy
kept track of their movements, though he did occasionally ask why send
them at all if Roy had so many spies already in place. Once Ed
figured it out for himself--or, more likely, admitted to himself what
he already knew--Roy might possibly find it in him to be a bit more
forthcoming.
Possibly. But only if Ed stopped fidgeting in such an amusing
fashion when teased.
"Really?" Ed asked, badly faking a disinterested air for the sake of
form. "I hadn't noticed."
"Mm. You did complete the mission, although I'd be curious to
know why you left a librarian in charge of a sensitive military
project."
"She has a knack for research?"
"In charge of five National Alchemists determined to transmute each
other into lead?"
"She was the only one they were all afraid of," Ed muttered, hunching
his shoulders as if trying to draw into his shell. Roy managed
not to laugh, but the effort cost dearly.
"Hmm. And the side trip to YousWell was...?"
"A waste of time and funding, I know, I know. No one transmuted
anything, against the Laws or otherwise--they just hit a rich vein; it
happens. Yes, they've agreed to offer the military first options
to buy the rare elements they mine, and no, they won't object to having
a National Alchemist present to leach the ores out faster. Okay?"
"Wonderful," Roy said, allowing himself a smile. "But I was going
to ask if it was more pleasant than your last visit. Of course,
since you've done all the preliminary work for us, you can write up a
report for our liaison to the commercial sector."
Ed groaned loudly and slumped down further, legs stuck out straight
before him now. He looked in imminent danger of sliding right off
the couch, but he also looked...relieved? About writing extra
reports? Something odd was
going on, then, and it would probably be worth the effort to get to the
bottom of it.
"All right, then. I'll want the report on the mining project
within the next two days. Now, unless you have anything to
add...?"
Ed sat up straight with a start, eyeing him suspiciously as he arched a
brow in the younger man's direction. "That's it? No
chicken--um...never mind," Ed interrupted himself hastily, flushing a
little as he slapped on a strained smile.
Hmm. "You're right, I'd almost forgotten," he said, rising from
his chair as Ed stared at him in shock. Oh, this was going to be good. Ed was
still frozen on the couch by the time Roy reached the door, and he
paused with his hand on the knob, smirking over his shoulder.
"Well? Come on. I don't have all day."
Sheer confusion got Ed up and on his feet, and dread kept him quiet as
he followed Roy through the staff office, waving Al off
distractedly. It was only when they reached the empty hallway
outside that Ed found his voice.
"Where exactly are we going, Colonel?"
He considered not answering, but an inner devil urged otherwise.
"As you just reminded me, it is noon, isn't it?" He glanced down
at Ed, who still hadn't gotten it, and put on his absolute best you-do-not-argue-with-the-Colonel
face. "We're having lunch," he informed his captive, and barely
cracked a smile when Ed began to sputter.
Life was good.
"Life sucks!" Winry shouted, clenching her fists as she sat hunched
beside Al on his bed. Non-relatives weren't ordinarily allowed in
the dorms the military provided, but Winry had always been an
exception--or maybe Al was the exception, since no one could imagine
him sneaking a girlfriend back to the room he shared with his brother.
No one could imagine him with a girlfriend, period.
He was heartened, at least, to know that Winry still considered him a
confidant, even if this was a secret he'd rather not hear. He
knew all the sayings about nice guys finishing last, but he couldn't
help what he was, could he? And anyway, if he really wanted Winry
to be happy....
"It's not that bad," he offered gamely, forging onward in the face of
her incredulous glare. "I mean, he hasn't actually turned you
down or anything, right? He just...."
"He just ignores me completely," she finished glumly, knotting her
fingers together in her lap. "He probably thinks of me as a
sister, huh? The girl he got into mud fights with when he was three. It's hopeless, isn't
it?"
"Um...." Yes, he wanted
to shout, but he just couldn't. It wouldn't be right.
"Actually, I don't think he really, um, notices anybody. He's
too...."
"Clueless?"
Al winced. "I was going to say 'driven,' but...."
"Clueless and driven," Winry
allowed, nodding sharply with a frown. "I know why he wants the
Philosopher's Stone, and I hope he gets it, too--for your sake, not
his," she added quickly, her cheeks pinking as she looked up at him
through her lashes. "I mean, the auto-mail doesn't bother me, though of course if he does
find the Stone...oh, you know what I mean. I just wish there was
something I could do to help."
"I know," Al said, hanging his head with a sigh. "Looking for the
Stone is eating his life, and...I just wish someone could distract him
from it sometimes. Even if I have to stay like this longer, I
don't mind. He deserves to be happy. You both do."
It was Winry who sighed this time, but her eyes were as soft as her
smile. "You're the best, you know that, Al?"
And then she hugged him, her lips pressed briefly to his metal cheek.
He would have given anything to be able to feel it.
He'd expected to be dragged off to the cafeteria, the officers' mess if
the Colonel was in a generous mood, but Roy marched for the lobby and
out the doors, where a car was magically waiting at the bottom of the
steps. Ed half thought he'd see Havoc standing at attention
beside the rear door, waiting for the Colonel to climb in, but this was
some faceless subordinate from the motor pool who likely had nothing
better to do than wait for the brass to decide on an afternoon spin.
Ed glanced over at the Colonel as he slid in beside the man, but
Mustang was being inscrutable again, a faint smile curving his lips as
he waited for the driver to settle behind the wheel. "Green
Lion," Roy said shortly, which could have been military code-babble or
the name of a restaurant. Ed wished he could ask which it was,
but then he'd have to put up with the Colonel's superior smirk and a
reminder that the time to have asked was before he climbed into a car with
someone he apparently didn't trust.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Ed glared out the side window and
prepared to ignore the Colonel for the next hour at the very least.
Apparently the driver was better informed than Ed, as the man nodded
once and put the car in gear, glancing silently in the mirrors before
pulling away from the curb. From the corner of his eye, Ed could
see Mustang staring straight ahead, hands folded neatly in his lap,
though some of the ingrained stiffness had left him now that they were
away from headquarters. He wasn't quite slouched, not like Ed
was, but he looked comfortable, not at all bothered at being
ostentatiously ignored.
Typical. And then the Colonel looked over at him and smiled--not
smirked--which wasn't typical at all, but maybe it had something to do
with having caught Ed staring.
"I see you're moving better today, Fullmetal. Your checkup went
well?"
"Yeah," he said, turning his face toward the window with a scowl.
He hated giving the Colonel ammunition...but the sullen act just made
him feel like one of the dumb teenagers in the towns he and Al passed
through, and he knew he ought to be better than that, more
mature. He could make conversation if it killed somebody.
Preferably Roy Mustang. "Winry's a genius, but she basically said
it was normal. I didn't really think about it, because it usually
gets busted up before it becomes a problem," he added sheepishly, "but
auto-mail takes a lot of use in a lot of different ways. It's a
lot more advanced than just clockwork."
"That makes sense. So, what exactly was the problem?"
"Just a matter of fine-tuning," Ed replied automatically, hunching one
shoulder and glancing over at his audience. Roy actually had his
politely interested face on for once, the faintest hint of a smile
still curving his lips. Ed stared hard at the man for a long
moment, but he didn't get the feeling the Colonel was waiting for him
to blunder into saying something stupid, so he shrugged again, dropping
his gaze to his gloved hand. "It was probably tightening up
gradually for a while, but it happened so slowly, I didn't notice at
the time. I'm back in top shape, now."
And don't you forget it, his
glare said as he flicked his eyes back up to Roy's. That mild
expression from the Colonel was putting him on edge, but it looked like
one of their temporary truces had been declared yet again without
anyone warning him. As usual. At least it was better than
all the blushing and staring.
He's making me write <span
style="font-weight: bold;">reports, Ed reminded himself,
but far from being outraged, he was secretly rather relieved.
Whatever was wrong with the rest of the world, Colonel Mustang was just
as manipulative as ever. It was good to know that there were
actual constants in life, even if one of them had to be his irritating
commanding officer.
He was so busy scowling at the Colonel he didn't even notice the driver
pulling in and slowing to a stop, not until the motor was killed with a
faint cough and rattle. Peering past Roy and out the window, he
found a sidewalk lined by maple saplings with leaves newly unfurled,
pale green and white against the deep forest shingles of a rather
upscale restaurant. At least he knew what the Green Lion was now.
People stared when they walked in, though he suspected it had more to
do with the fact that he was underdressed...at least at first. He
saw a few other uniforms here and there, the place obviously popular
with the upper ranks at headquarters, but there were many more suits
and women overdressed for lunch. At least the crowd was mostly
the young professional set--many of them were only a few years older
than he was, so he didn't feel too out of place.
But a few people were still staring even after they were shown to a
table, and it made him jittery. What was the matter with these people? He
knew he hadn't sprouted horns from a rebound or anything, because the
Colonel would never have let him live it down. He'd even looked
himself over in the mirror once or twice, hoping for an explanation,
but he just saw the same old face every time.
He flicked a quick glance over the dining room again and suppressed a
groan. Now there were old
people staring at him. One of them was even in uniform.
Roy's hand on his wrist startled him, and he realized the Colonel had
probably said his name a few more times than he could reasonably
explain away. He also realized Roy's fingers were even warmer
than Winry's, blunt and strong. He stared down at his arm with a
blank frown, struck by the contrast of the Colonel's pale skin and the
narrow band of tanned flesh left bare between Ed's coat sleeve and his
glove, surprised by how light Roy's touch was. Almost diffident,
unconsciously respectful.
Then he shook himself and looked up, his frown deepening as he met
Roy's wary stare.
"Are you all right, Edward-kun?"
Why did everybody keep asking him that?
"Fine," he said, self-consciously sliding his left arm out of
reach. Roy let him go without even a token protest, and Ed was
disturbed to find some part of him was disappointed by that. The
arrival of the waiter saved him from having to think about it too
closely, but he could tell from the stubborn set of the Colonel's mouth
that the other thing wasn't going to be ignored so easily.
In fact, Roy pounced the minute the waiter was out of earshot.
"If you're not comfortable here, we can go somewhere else," Roy
offered, and there wasn't a hint of condescension in his serious
tone. Ed considered dying theatrically, just so it wouldn't be a
wasted effort--when Colonel Mustang was worried about you, something
must be terribly wrong.
"I'm fine," he repeated, feeling the oddest urge to blush as he held
the Colonel's dark eyes and refused to back down. Roy didn't look
like he believed it, but he sat back after a moment with a sober nod,
agreeing to let it go. It was a victory, of sorts, but Ed felt
like he owed the man something instead. "Have you ever felt
like...." Like people are
watching you, he wanted to ask, but somehow couldn't. It
wasn't even distrust; it was embarrassment
that sealed his lips in the end.
Roy waited patiently for him to continue, but he shrugged it off with a
nervous laugh. "Never mind. Just one of those weird
thoughts...."
"Hmm." Not convinced in the slightest, the Colonel watched him
sharply for a few moments before transferring his glare to the people
around them. And then he very casually reached into the pocket of
his highly-decorated jacket and pulled out his gloves, laying them
deliberately on the table in easy reach.
Suddenly no one was looking their way at all.
Ed didn't know whether to sink under the table or put his head down and
laugh himself sick.
"No one's about to attack
me," he groused, though his lips kept twitching despite his best
efforts at a disgusted glare.
"You? I'm not worth attacking, then?"
Damn it, how did he always
end up giving away more than he meant to? "You? You're just
a Flame Alchemist, old man," he said lightly, grinning at Roy's
insulted sniff. "Whereas I'm the famous Edward Elric, friend of
the common man, the Fullmetal Alchemist!"
Roy propped his elbow on the table and his chin on his fist, giving Ed
the dreamy feline smile that boded no good for anyone. "The
friend of the common man can always go eat with them if he doesn't like the
company," the Colonel suggested in his most provocative purr.
Ed just snorted, curling his lip as he sat back and folded his arms
over his stomach. "No, I'd better stay here and keep an eye on
you. I wouldn't want to be held responsible if you snapped because you missed me."
Either he was in excellent form today or Roy was off his game--his
comment won a surprised chuckle from his opponent and Mustang conceded
the field with a wry nod and a grin that promised swift
retribution. The shock of realizing he was looking forward to it
almost drowned the realization that he'd been bantering with the
Colonel, not sniping at him...and it had been fun.
Was this how Roy saw their bickering all the time?
Saved again by the waiter bringing their meal, he had time to mull that
over as he dug into surprisingly hearty fare. So much for his
theory that high-class food had to be either dainty or inedible.
No wonder the military sort liked this place.
And since when did he relax enough around the Colonel to...to tease the man? He'd been
comfortable with their odd power struggle, Mustang holding all the
cards, Ed furiously adding new ones to the deck in hopes he could one
day stack it in his favor. It was habit as much as honest
irritation that kept the battle alive, habit and stubborn pride.
It was the principle of the
matter. Even when he wanted to beat Roy's head in, he knew the
man was their ally, not their enemy. And damn it, it was just
like Mustang to change the rules on him without even firing a warning
shot.
Looking up with a suspicious glare, he stabbed his chopsticks in Roy's
direction and growled. "You can predict what I'll do on a mission
even without Hughes' reports, can't you?"
"You're...very straightforward, Fullmetal," Roy admitted tactfully,
lapsing into formality in recognition of the hit. "Your honesty
makes you easier to anticipate than most."
"And you're counting on that when you send me places."
"Yes."
Ed's stare ought to be burning holes in the Colonel's head, but Roy met
his look without flinching, waiting as patiently as ever for Ed to make
up his mind which way to jump. Knowing, probably, exactly which
way that would be. Ed ought to walk out and never look back, just
to put a crack in that cool armor.
He put his chopsticks quietly down without looking, leaning forward
with a fierce snarl. "If you know me that well, then why the hell do you keep things from me
when you know it'll just piss me off?"
One dark brow arched, amused, and the Colonel had the audacity to
smile. "Because you're cute when you're angry?"
Ed muttered curses as he flopped back in his chair, ignoring the
scandalized cough of the waiter entirely. And then he threw a
chopstick at the Colonel, who laughed, just because.
Armor was there for a reason, after all, and cracks were damnably hard
to fix.
Roy made his way back to the office with a lighter step than he
remembered having since his return to Central. Matching wills
with Edward was always a pleasure, not least of which because he had no
real guarantee of winning, not what he
considered a victory. Even so, open warfare wasn't how he wanted
things to remain between them. It had seemed wiser at first not
to get too close, to distance himself from a boy determined to repeat
his father's mistakes, but Ed had swiftly grown beyond Hoenhime and
then some. Edward was his own person, and that person was someone
Roy quite admired.
And now--after a mere five years,
he chuckled to himself--he was finally making real progress with
Ed. The only thing that troubled him was that he didn't know
why. Why now.
"Mustang, you utter bastard!"
His easy stride hitched, slowed and then stopped, and though he didn't
turn to meet the owner of that voice, he angled his head slightly,
enough that his smile could be seen over his shoulder. By the
rate at which the hallway cleared, he suspected it bore no resemblance
to the ones he'd offered Edward earlier in the hour. "That's not
a very polite hello."
"Well, you're not a very polite man," his hailer muttered, and he
recognized the voice at last. Colonel Dover, who he only saw in
staff meetings, and then rarely. The man was fifteen years his
senior, a career officer of no real talent, stuck at Colonel over some
scandal no one really remembered. Something about a fox terrier,
or maybe a prostitute--or both.
Turning at last, Roy tipped his head to one side and stared down his
nose at the other man, who wasn't looking quite as blustery as his
initial roar seemed to suggest. "I thought that was common
knowledge--or was this something specific?"
"Specific? I should say so! Look here," Dover added as he
stepped closer, his voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial
level. "It was one thing when you cut a swath through the ladies,
Mustang--more power to you, eh? But must you branch out so? It's
not sporting to lull a man into a sense of security and then go and
change your mind like that."
Roy stared, his ears insisting the man was speaking plain language
while his brain refused point-blank to make sense of it. "I'm
sorry...I have no idea what you're on about."
For some reason, that made Dover grin. "Ohc; well, I'd keep him a
secret too, if I were you. Positively delightful creature; quite
a handful, I should say. If there's any more like that where you
found him, you'd drop us a hint, eh?"
Though he fought it mightily, a glimmer of understanding was beginning
to make itself known. "You mean the young man I had lunch with,"
he stated, torn between informing the fool exactly who that was and
wanting to see exactly how far it would go. It was rather like
watching a train wreck, true....
"You've excellent taste, I'll give you that, Mustang. Brought him
there to show him off, did you?"
"Mm. Not exactly the sort of place he's used to," he offered
noncommittally, shading the truth a fraction. The Green Lion
wasn't Edward's usual fare, no, but that was by preference, not because
there was anything keeping him out.
But now he wondered--had Ed been uncomfortable at first because people
like Dover were leering at him? If that turned out to be the
case, Dover was about to discover that Roy Mustang took very good care
of his own.
"Ah, you sly devil, you. A beauty like him you'll want to keep
happy. I don't suppose it's serious...?" he added, his hopeful
tone and belated flush contrasting oddly with his salacious manner.
"Very serious," Roy assured the man, deciding to bring the game to an
early close. "In fact, you could say I'm committed to keeping
Fullmetal happy."
"F-Fullmetal?" Dover stammered, paling as the name struck a bell in
what passed for his memory.
"Yes. I believe you've heard of Edward Elric...the Fullmetal
Alchemist?" Roy was smiling again, and this time he was the one
to shorten the distance between them, his voice dropping almost to a
murmur as he managed to loom over a man half a head taller than
him. "And as his happiness is my responsibility, I'm sure you'll
understand that I'd have to take very seriously anything that might put
it in jeopardy. Just a friendly hint, hmm?"
Dover nodded anxiously, but Roy didn't stick around to see whether he'd
freeze or run. Pivoting on his heel, he stalked down the corridor
towards his own office, feeling only mildly guilty for losing his
temper in such a way. He didn't like
threatening non-alchemists, and he certainly didn't like the way people
were flattening themselves to the walls to get out of his path. A
snap of his fingers, a clean lick of fire--a brief explosion that
didn't harm anybody--that was one thing.
Sitting there unable to do anything as Edward's expression turned
briefly hunted for no reason...that was another entirely.
He was calmer by the time he reached his own area, calm enough to laugh
at Dover's misinterpretation of a simple meal. It was all the
more amusing because the man hadn't actually been wrong--Roy would and
could "change his mind" if the right incentive came along, but then it
became far too difficult to separate his career from his
relationships. Most of the men he was willing to consider were
enlisted, after all, but Hawkeye's extensive combat experience was
something of an exception when it came to women in the military.
The general's secretary was much less likely to get shot at or resent
an order from her lover.
Edward, though...all right, granted, Ed wasn't a kid anymore.
There were some who'd claim he'd never been a kid, but Roy wasn't one of
them. He remembered all too well seeing what was left of the boy
after that failed attempt at human transmutation, the frail remains
battered and bandaged and paler than the sheets beneath him. He'd
taken the risk that the guts and genius behind such a mad attempt could
be molded not into a weapon but a tool, a balance, but he never forgot
that he was molding a child.
And suddenly the child had grown up, not just in body but in spirit and
mind, sometime when he wasn't looking. If that brief challenge
over lunch was any indication, his days of shaping Edward were past. Ed
was more than ready to stand on his own two feet, to hear the reasoning
behind the plans and make his own judgments. In a sense, Roy had
been trusting him to do just that for the past five years.
So. Fine--Edward wasn't a kid.
But <span style="font-weight: bold;">still....
Well, if he looked at it from Dover's point of view...Roy Mustang,
conqueror of the typing pool--which was no mean feat--having a cozy
lunch with someone young, out of uniform, and blindingly attractive--
Wait....
Edward? Fullmetal? Blindingly attractive?
Something uncomfortably close to panic stirred in the pit of his
stomach as he thought back to lunch, to the twenty minutes before in
his office, a new awareness of Edward Elric beginning to grow in his
mind. Taller--well, yes, Ed had managed to put on a few more
inches in the last six months, though he would probably never top even
Roy's shoulder. His face had turned sharper as it matured, all
strength and sinew now, but still fine-boned and elegant for all
that. His shoulders had filled out nicely, though his hips were
still impossibly trim--but it was the way he held himself, the
undisciplined flailing of youth refined to a competent grace, that
struck Roy the most.
And gold eyes that fixed on him without backing down, occasionally
without anger. Sometimes they even laughed, just for him.
He walked through the staff office without saying a word, and after one
look at his stunned face, no one said a word to him.
Dear God, he thought as he
closed his own door behind him. He couldn't even complete the
thought until he sat down, and then it came quiet, subdued.
I just went on a date with Edward
Elric.
Oddly, his first thought was that Alphonse was going to kill him.
"I'm going to kill him," Al muttered to himself, but he didn't exactly
sound married to the idea, even to himself. Maybe if he could
make up his mind which one of them he wanted to kill....
He'd been relieved at first that the Colonel had dragged Ed out of the
office before Winry showed up looking for him, because if Ed had been
there she would have ducked out again, and that would have been
bad. Winry had never been much for bottling things up, her
tendency to speak her own mind nearly a match for Ed's, but Al had
gradually realized that to some degree, timing was everything.
Ed for instance tended to soliloquize whenever the mood took him, even
hours after the fact, but girls seemed to have certain peak times for
venting. Mostly it occurred the precise minute they got
everything they wanted to vent about arranged in their heads according
to patterns more mystical than the most obscure alchemical Array.
If the prime moment passed, it might come back and it might not, but it
wouldn't be the same.
Sometimes it really worried him that he understood that, but he tried
not to let it bother him. Much.
So, for the space of about an hour, it was a good thing that Ed was
safely occupied elsewhere. At least until Winry decided she
should try again, this time without making a fool of herself, and take
them all out to dinner. And so naturally she'd wanted to know
where Ed was. And of course he'd told her.
"Colonel Mustang?" she'd repeated, an odd flicker of doubt crossing her
face. "I thought they didn't like each other."
"It looks that way
sometimes," he'd agreed, "but the Colonel has always sort of...looked
out for us. I think he even likes Ed, though it's hard to
say. And I know he drives Ed crazy, but I think Ed respects
him. Most of the time. They don't fight nearly as much
anymore, at least, and who knows? In another five years, they
might even get along."
"Oh," Winry said, and though the troubled look was smoothed away, her
eyes remained thoughtful until she finally had to leave to meet her
last patient of the day. All without seeing Ed.
Who still wasn't to be found,
though Al had seen him briefly. If a rushed babble of: "Al!
I'm back, can't stay--gotta find Hughes, so don't wait up for me,
okay? Library. Bye!" counted as having seen him.
And the Colonel wasn't answering his door. Well, to be totally
honest, Havoc wasn't letting anyone near the Colonel's door, and Huey
was backing him up. Which meant that either something very
important was going on inside or the Colonel was hiding.
Al wasn't entirely sure why, but instinct was pushing him towards the
latter.
And now he had to find Winry and explain to her that the boy of her
dreams had hared off to parts unknown with barely a word of warning,
and that she might want to get used to it.
He sighed.
"I am definitely going to
kill him."
"What do you mean he's not here?" Ed demanded, foot tapping as he
folded his arms across his chest. "He was here ten minutes ago,
wasn't he?" The bastard was hiding
from him, he just knew it.
"He was called out on a Code Red," Major Armstrong explained, the hint
of apology sounding odd in his deep, rumbling voice. "I'm afraid
I can't give you any details, but it was
important. He did say to tell you he should be back by tomorrow
morning, though, if that helps...."
"All right," Ed muttered, sighing loudly though his nose. "Tell
Hughes I'll be by first thing, and that he'd better have decent coffee
this time."
"Of course, Edward-kun," Armstrong said, his indulgent smile fraying
Ed's temper even further. And to think he'd been in a good mood after lunch with the
Colonel.
That was before he found out Hughes had ducked out on him, of course,
just when he needed the man the most. He'd even been prepared to
sit through all the pictures of Hughes' daughter that he'd missed
seeing while out on mission, just so he could get a few simple
answers. He supposed he could ask Major Armstrong instead, but
Hughes was the real genius in Intelligence and still owed him a favor,
besides.
Fine, he could wait. It wasn't like he was going anywhere--he
still had a report to write.
c;br>
Though he might want to see the staff psychologist first, since that
actually made him grin.
It had faded somewhat by the time he got to the National Library--the
eyes were starting to get to him--but it was easy to disappear into the
stacks and try to gather the remains of his earlier contentment.
A small table in an out-of-the-way spot, a fresh notebook, and a pile
of books between him and the world were all he needed.
Opening a book was usually a calming thing, requiring all of his
attention as he sorted through the facts and theories of the past and
tried to parse it with what he knew. Some of the tomes here were
positively ancient, the information vastly outdated, but there were
occasionally gems amongst the dross. There was always the
possibility that some random note in the unlikeliest of places would be
all he needed to fit together a puzzle that had consumed him for the
last five years, a way to make the Philosopher's Stone without resorting to methods no
sane person would stomach.
Today he was distracted, words jumbling on the page as he tried to read
them, his eyes lifting again and again to stare at the wall of books
before him. Something was bothering him, something about the way
Al had stammered that morning, the shy way his brother didn't quite
look at Winry. It was almost like--
He frowned, glancing down at his wrist, and realized he was doing it again.
At the time...well, at the time he'd hated that he'd been caught
blanking out, that Roy made it obvious to everybody by that touch on his
arm. It was embarrassing, so he'd pulled away and taken himself
out of range. But now he kept touching that same spot, gloved
right fingers brushing his wrist as lightly as Roy had...but it wasn't
the same. His right hand was metal and never warm, never so....
Blowing his long bangs out of his face on an aggravated sigh, he sat
briefly back in his chair and then leaned forward again, hunching
determinedly over his book. He wasn't going to think about the
Colonel or waste his time trying to figure out what game the man was
playing now. So they could have a civil conversation. So
what? And anyway, he'd known that already.
He hadn't known Roy's laugh could sound like that without its constant sardonic
edge....
"Oh, shut up," he muttered at himself, scowling again. He was
here to read, not to think about the Colonel.
Okay, so he was here to think
about the Colonel, but only in the sense that he'd expected it to mess
with his head more. He'd actually gotten a straight answer from
the man without having to blow up a parade ground in the process, and
while it might not technically be a first, it definitely felt like a
sign of things to come. Roy had been...different at lunch, and
not because of that odd moment of urbane threat with the gloves.
He'd seemed more open, and though the challenge was still there in
everything he said or did, it was like...like he'd finally realized
that Ed wasn't a kid anymore. Like he was finally being looked at
as an equal.
It's about time, he grumbled
with a hint of smugness, triumph stretching his smirk into a
grin. Of course, for all he knew, this might mean the kid gloves
were finally coming off--
Propping his elbow on the table, he buried his face in his hand and
tried to stifle his snickers before a librarian came to glare murder at
him. He couldn't help it, though--that thing with the gloves had
been funny, now that he had a
little distance to appreciate it. Roy might as well have drawn
his gun and laid it on the table. The way everyone around them
suddenly found other places to stare...the clink of glass on china as a
waiter fumbled his tray...the utterly serious look in Roy's dark eyes,
as good as a promise that Roy would back him up against an unknown
threat. It lit something warm inside him that embarrassed him and
buoyed him up at the same time.
Hand now trapping a smile, his eyes fell to the page before him and
started scanning automatically, a welcome distraction from all this
goopy emotional crap. He had better things to do, surely.
'Therefore have I briefly enumerated
some of the qualities of this Spirit, to the Honour of God, that the
pious may reverently praise Him in His gifts (which gift of God shall
afterwards come to them), and I will herewith shew what powers and
virtues it possesses in each thing, also its outward appearance, that
it may be more readily recognised.'
He blinked, snorting in disbelief. Okay...so maybe it wasn't his
lack of attention that was making this book so hard to read.
Shaking his head, he flipped a few pages back and tried again, slowly,
lifting his head and folding his arms on the table. His fingers
played with the seams of his coat sleeves, pleating the material and
smoothing it flat, drifting down to tug at his gloves.
Touching, just there, like when he looked up and found Roy watching
him, quiet and contained but no longer aloof. And he liked
that--wouldn't mind seeing that look more often--because one unguarded
look from Roy had to be ten times sexier than Psiren in her catsuit.
He squeaked aloud as he sat bolt upright in his chair, but the sound
was so strangled--it was supposed to have been a shouted curse--it
slipped under the librarians' radar.
Sexy? Sexy? Did
he just think Roy Mustang was sexy?
No, no, no...there had to be some mistake. Roy wasn't sexy, he
was a smirking manipulative bastard. Although actually, when that
smirk wasn't being directed at him,
he could almost see why people forgave the man for it. And Roy
was...well, all right, he was good-looking. Pretty much everyone
agreed on that. Always so deliberate about everything he did, but
graceful, almost languid, absolute confidence and control. It was
that control that did it, Ed thought sourly. You couldn't watch
that buttoned-up statue of a man without wanting to see him flushed and
panting and completely at your mercy.
This time the shouted curse came out just fine. Grabbing books at
random, he snatched up his notebook as well and beat a hasty retreat,
escaping to another part of the library before the librarians could
kick him out, not entirely sure this was really where he wanted to be
anymore, but completely certain he couldn't face the rest of the world
just now.
Huddled into a new chair, he stared blankly at the book shielding his
face, his heart beating double-time. The skin of his face felt
tight, but he wasn't sure if he was blushing or white as a sheet.
He couldn't...he couldn't possibly want...this was Roy Mustang. Bane of his
existence.
Unexpected ally from day one.
Ed ducked his head as a librarian went stalking past, praying for once
that he could make himself small and unassuming enough to go
unseen. When she didn't even look in his direction, he breathed a
shaky sigh of relief.
Which only dealt with one of his problems. The other was
clamoring now for attention and utterly refusing to go away.
At least Al wasn't going to be waiting up for him back at the
dorms. He had the feeling this was going to be a long night.
Al suppressed a sigh as his brother came creeping in just past
midnight, shutting the door with a whispered click. It wasn't
like he minded Ed's late hours--Al did sleep in a way, but it wasn't
something he actually needed--but Ed always tiptoed in and got
undressed in the dark, careful to make no noise at all. Which was
nice of him, but totally unnecessary for Al's sake. Mostly, he
figured Ed wanted the quiet so his brother could finish processing what
he'd learned that day.
Only tonight Ed was silent for longer than usual.
c;br>
"Brother?" Al whispered at last, vaguely pleased that his voice was
deepening, that his spirit
wasn't going to stay a little boy forever. "Are you asleep?"
"No," Ed said, shifting aimlessly and still again.
Al waited, but Ed didn't seem inclined to add to that--and he knew he
should just shut up and let his brother think, but.... "Winry
came by today. I think she wants to take us out sometime."
"Huh."
Another silence. Al was starting to get worried, but he was also
starting to get--just the littlest bit--angry. Didn't Ed even care?
"Brother? Don't you like spending time with Winry anymore?"
"Huh?" Ed shifted again, and Al could see the glint of his eyes
by the faint light from under the door as Ed's face turned towards
him. "Oh. No, it's not that. Sorry, I'm just...a
little distracted tonight. Winry's great. Don't worry."
Which was a stupid thing to say in Al's opinion--what was he going to
do but worry with his brother
acting so weird?--but he didn't know quite what to do next. He
didn't have a clue what the problem was, which hurt, so he didn't know
how to pry it out of Ed, who sometimes clammed up if pressed the wrong
way. All he knew for certain was that Ed didn't start acting
weird until Colonel Mustang took him to lunch, and then the Colonel had started acting weird,
too.
"Brother? Is this about the Colonel?"
This time the silence was followed by a sigh, and Ed's face turned back
up to stare into the darkness above. "Al...let me ask you
something."
Oh. That sounded serious.
"Okay...."
"If I was...different."
He waited a beat, but Ed seemed to have gotten stuck. "You
mean...like if you were somebody else?"
"No, I mean...if I was...weird."
Al snorted. "You're already weird."
Which made Ed laugh, as it was supposed to, but there was an element of
hysteria in his snickers that Al didn't like at all. Something
was really, really wrong, and he'd been so caught up in his own
troubles, he hadn't even noticed it.
"Al," Ed gasped, dissolving into muffled snickers again. "No,
I...."
"Whatever it is, it's okay," Al promised, meaning it.
"Right. Well. I...I think I like guys."
"Guys?" Al repeated in a small voice, trying to decide if this was
better or worse than the horrors he'd been imagining. Better,
because Ed hadn't sacrificed anybody under the full moon or killed the
Colonel yet. Worse, because...how on earth was he going to
explain this to Winry?
"Yeah."
And speaking of the Colonel....
"Is there...some guy in particular?"
He might not have noticed the hesitation if he hadn't been listening
for it. "Yeah." Another long moment passed, and Ed
swallowed hard, gathering his courage for one last confession.
"Colonel Mustang."
Al nodded once, armor grating quietly in the silence.
"Right." Then he sat up.
"I'll kill him."
Ed didn't plan on making a career of stalking people, but he was
waiting outside Hughes' office practically at the crack of dawn,
determined not to let the man duck out on him again. Besides, it
was too weird in the dorms right now, anyway. People had actually
complained about the noise, and he had no idea how much they'd heard
before he got Al calmed down.
Leaning back against the wall with a sigh, he crossed his arms over his
chest and one ankle over the other, letting his chin drop as his hair
curtained his suddenly-warm face. At least Al wasn't freaked out
about him, though keeping his
brother from killing the Colonel had been quite a feat. He didn't
know where Al got the idea that Roy had seduced him or something--sure,
the guy could be charming when he chose, but Ed had been so busy
wanting to kick his head in, when would the man have had time?
He'd had to explain everything after that--why the Colonel, why now--but at least it had helped him
straighten things out in his own mind. It wasn't just Roy--he
simply didn't care that much for girls, not like that--but it was just Roy, because no one else
was nearly so...interesting. Roy was a constant challenge and a
good friend, though it had taken Ed a while to see that. It
didn't hurt that he was also a...what had that girl in YousWell been
babbling about? Oh yeah--a
knockout.
He was still grinning when a photograph was thrust under his
nose. "Isn't she adorable?" Hughes crowed as Ed's eyes crossed in
a vain attempt to focus. "This one was taken at her fifth
birthday party--just look at that smile! My daughter's going to
be breaking hearts soon...bringing boys home to meet her
daddy...." And then the picture was gone, because Hughes needed
both hands to crack his knuckles properly. Staring up at the
demon looming over him, Ed pasted on a nervous smile.
"Then it's a good thing she's still your little girl, huh?"
"Too true!" Hughes agreed, euphoric again. "She's already reading
up a storm--she says she wants to be an alchemist like her Uncle
Roy. Isn't that sweet?"
"Uncle...Roy?"
Hughes shrugged with a philosophical grin. "What can you
do? Women adore him."
The deadly glint returned suddenly to green eyes, and Hughes bared his
teeth in something not really kin to a smile at all. Sensing that
distraction was the better part of valor, Ed cleared his throat loudly
and ratcheted his own smile wider. "Right, well...look, I really
need your help. There's something weird going on, and I need to
get to the bottom of it. Can I talk to you alone for a minute?"
"Huh? Oh, sure--step right in," Hughes invited, his grin
returning to normal. "I have more pictures you'll want to
see--she built a snowman all by herself this year and dressed it up in
her daddy's uniform. And her mother's gloves."
"Uh, that's great, Hughes, really...."
The things he put up with for a little information.
"Oh. I see."
Al hated seeing Winry's face fall like that, the way she got all quiet
and...small. It was funny--Winry and Ed were the same height, but
in his thoughts, Winry always seemed taller than she was, like a giant
or a force of nature. He didn't like the idea of her being
diminished, liked even less actually witnessing it.
"I'm really sorry," he said, hesitantly taking one of her hands as he
knelt before her chair. The workroom was silent but for the faint
drone of machinery, the windows closed on the street sounds
outside. He heard her swallow a faint sound that should have been
a laugh and wondered if it was possible to break a heart he didn't
technically have.
"It's okay," she said, braving a smile. Her eyes had been liquid
a moment before, but they were clear and strong now, determined.
"I sort of wondered, but I wasn't sure how to ask. And then, when
you said he was out with Colonel Mustang...."
"What does the Colonel have to do with it?" Al asked, momentarily
distracted. He'd believed his brother when Ed said the Colonel
hadn't done anything, but.... "I thought...he likes women?"
Winry giggled wickedly, a sound he hadn't heard in far too long.
"Does he ever. But he
likes men, too. Just not as much, I guess, or maybe not as
often--some of my patients were talking about it. I thought
everybody knew."
Al's mind was an absolute blank. Except for one thing.
"I'll kill him."
"Come on, Al!" Winry laughed, tugging on the hand clasped with
hers when he made to jump up and storm out. "Ed is perfectly
capable of looking out for himself, you know that."
"Yeah. I know," he admitted grudgingly, though that didn't
entirely erase the need to pound something right into the ground with
his bare--sort of--fists.
Winry patted his hand with a tolerant grin, her eyes fond. "But
you're really sweet to always be looking out for us, you know?"
"Um, well, I'm the sidekick. It's my job," he joked, proud when
it didn't come out bitter. He didn't actually mind that his brother had the
spotlight. It was just this one thing....
"Well, that's rotten," Winry said suddenly, surprising him with her
vehement tone and--oh, dear--a look that said she was sizing him up as
something to be fixed. "You can't spend the rest of your life in
Ed's shadow, you know. And anyway, think about it--the sidekick never gets the girl!"
"I know," he said, and--had he put too much feeling in that?
Because Winry was staring at him wide-eyed, her lips parted in a
soundless 'O' of surprise, and she had an absolute death grip on his
hand.
"Alphonse?"
He'd done it now. "I'm sorry," he choked out as he tried to
stand, but there were small hands on his shoulders pushing him back
down, and they had no right to be that strong. As long as she
wanted him there, even if it was the last place he wanted to be, he
couldn't move.
"Don't be," she said, and God, she sounded serious. It just
wasn't fair.
"Winry...look at me," he said,
hanging his head. He wanted to keep going, tell her how very much
he didn't want her pity, but the words wouldn't come.
"I am," she said....and then she laughed. "Do you remember when
you asked me to marry you?"
"Yes," he said--he never could lie to her.
"That's what I said."
He looked up at last, sure that meant something vastly important,
though he couldn't get it to mean anything but....
"You idiot," she said, and banged on his head with her small fist for
good measure. "I said yes.
Now sit there and don't even think about trying to run away, because
we're going to have a nice long talk. Understand?"
All he could do was nod, but the hollow places inside him were filling
up with something warm and light. He wished he could give her a
real smile, because it felt an awful lot like hope.
"Let me get this straight," Hughes began as Ed rolled his eyes.
"People have started staring at you, and when you try to talk to them,
they either clam up or babble like idiots. This happens
everywhere you go, and now...ahem,
'old people' are doing it too. And you can't figure out why."
"That sounds about right," Ed allowed, eyeing Hughes warily. Was
it natural for the man to turn that color if he was excited about a
lead?
"HA ha ha-ha...!"
Ed scowled. Well, apparently it was if Hughes was about to laugh
himself sick over someone's pain.
"Would you stop? Look,
if it's some kind of plot, just tell me about it, please! The
Colonel won't even give me the mission, and it's driving me crazy!"
"Oh, Ed, Ed," Hughes sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between
finger and thumb as he tried to stop snickering. He was in danger
of tipping his chair over if he leaned back any further, and his
shoulders wouldn't stop shaking even when he got his face under
control. "Edward-kun. It's not a plot. There's no
rumor. You just grew up, is all."
"What the hell are you talking about? Of course I grew up!
Did you think I was going to stay short forever?" he growled, lurching
to his feet and slamming his palms down on the desk, leaning menacingly
towards Hughes.
Hughes' snickers redoubled for a moment before he choked them off,
shaking his head swiftly. "No, no. I mean you grew up. Older.  b; Matured," he
added when Ed's eyes flashed at the emphasis. "Look, you were a
cu--uh, good-looking boy, right? Well, now you're a really good-looking young
man. People noticed, that's all."
"Huh?" Edward asked faintly, anger washed away by confusion.
Hughes grinned and sat forward, lacing his fingers together as he
looked Ed right in the eye. "It's like this. My own wife,
who obviously has excellent taste, has informed me that you, Edward
Elric, are a knockout."
Edward sat down hard, narrowly missing the floor by the barest of
margins. The chair squeaked, but he stayed up. "I...you
mean they...Winry?"
"Has a crush on you, probably," Hughes agreed, giving him an
encouraging smile. "Cheer up, Ed! It's not the end of the
world."
Ed's glazed eyes sharpened abruptly, his scowl returning with
interest. "Are you kidding?"
he snapped, on his feet a moment later. He had to get out of
here. This was just too much.
"Ed? Hey, Ed!" Hughes called, but Ed ignored the concern in the
man's voice. "Aw, come back here! Seriously!"
No. Absolutely not. There had to be some mistake...and why
did he keep thinking that
lately? First Roy, and now this. Only this wasn't really
happening, because that would mean...all this time. And he hadn't
gotten it. Where the
hell was his brain, anyway? Of all the simplest, most basic
answers--
It was this job, that's what it was. It was enough to make anyone
paranoid, especially with that idiot giving orders. When nothing
was what it seemed, you started looking past the obvious, and when the
obvious became invisible, well, hell, then you were really in trouble. And damn
it, he was in trouble. And when he was really, really in trouble--
"Wait up, boss! The Colonel's not seeing any--"
Ducking under Havoc's arm, Ed slipped inside Roy's door and kicked it
shut behind him, staring at the man behind the desk with a mixture of
desperation and fury that made him feel like he was about to
explode. It was only mildly satisfying to notice that the Colonel
wasn't in the best of moods himself, already rubbing the bridge of his
nose where a headache must be gathering.
"Everybody's insane!" Ed announced, deciding that was not only the
perfect preface to everything that needed to be said but was sure to
make him feel better, as well. And it did, but not nearly
enough. "Everywhere I go, people keep staring at me, and I've
been wracking my brains trying to figure out what they have to be
staring about--and do you know why? Because anytime something
bizarre or generally inexplicable happens around me, it's probably
because you didn't tell me what was
going on!"
He got a raised brow for that, but he wasn't done yet. Not by a
long shot.
"I thought it was some rumor at first, because I don't know where half
of them come from unless Hughes plants them for fun--and if he does,
I'm going to kill him! But if it wasn't rumors, then maybe it was
some kind of a plot--only you weren't in any hurry to send us out on
some wild goose chase, so maybe it wasn't a plot, either. So I
went to Hughes, and you know what he said? He said...he said...."
Ed froze, realizing exactly what Hughes had said, his face going blank with
shock. "Oh, fuck...Winry has a crush on me!"
Roy sighed testily, drumming his fingers on the desk. "Is that
what you came to tell me?"
"You knew?" Ed accused, fixing the Colonel with a hurt glare.
"Who else knew? Oh,
God...Al. Al
knew. Al likes
Winry...."
It was too much to take. Tottering away from the door, he made
his way to the couch and collapsed, guilt rising up strong enough to
choke him. He'd always known--intellectually, at least--that his
brother liked Winry, but before their transformation, he'd just assumed
those two would get on with it in the background, as it were.
They'd all grow up, Al and Winry would get married, and nothing would
change--he and Al would study alchemy and Winry would work with her
grandmother in the auto-mail business, and...it hadn't really occurred
to them they'd even be living in different houses, if he was being
honest, but kids were self-centered like that.
And then after...he'd been so distracted by trying to restore their old
bodies, to get through to the next day, he just hadn't thought....
There were a few constants in life you decided on when you were young
enough to believe in such things, like the fact that your parents would
always be around and you'd always have somewhere to come home to.
When one of those things changed, it felt like all of the other
expectations shattered with it, but they didn't. They were still
there, and if you didn't look at those assumptions once in a while,
you'd never realize how fragile they were.
It hadn't occurred to him that something might change Winry's mind, that she and Al might
not get together after all. It certainly hadn't occurred to him
that he might be the threat to his brother's happiness.
Closing his eyes tightly, he buried his face in his hands. He
didn't know how to fix this. At all.
"Edward. Edward-kun. Ed."
Fingers on his bare skin again, and this time they wrapped around his
wrist and tugged, gently. Roy was sitting on the edge of the
table in front of the couch, peering into his face, and looking up into
Roy's concerned gaze, Ed let his hands drop with a weak laugh.
"He's going to kill me."
"Me first," Roy muttered, but Ed decided to let that one go. Roy
couldn't possibly know...but then again, he and Al had gotten rather loud last night,
and maybe somebody said something...
"I already told him it's not your fault," Ed muttered, hunching his
shoulders nervously. The Colonel didn't usually bother to dress
him down, but everyone knew Roy had a tongue like a viper when he was
really angry, and that it was ten times worse because he never raised
his voice. So if Roy was going to blow up over a guy having a
crush on him, Ed had just opened the door for a good, long rant.
Hell, he'd practically sent a written invitation.
Roy was silent, though, and it belatedly occurred to Ed that the man
was still holding on to his wrist, thumb stroking absently over his
skin in soothing circles. The Colonel arched a brow at him when
Ed didn't elaborate, saying only, "Oh?"
"I guess I kind of surprised him," Ed admitted grudgingly, finding it
hard to meet Roy's gaze but determined he wouldn't look away. He
might as well tell the whole truth while he was at it--maybe the
Colonel could learn by example if he had it shoved down his throat
often enough. "I mean, I didn't even know I liked guys
myself...but where he got the idea you
seduced me, I have no idea,"
he added with a scowl, insulted all over again. And then he
blushed, realizing how bad that sounded, as if they'd actually done
something. Which of course they hadn't, and wouldn't, because Roy
was--
Grinning, damn him. And looking far too smug. "Perhaps
because I have more experience?"
And he still hadn't let go of Ed's arm. But then, Ed wasn't
exactly asking for it back.
"Good for you, the army's gift to women," Ed sneered with narrowed
eyes, warning and demanding at once. "Of course, if someone
didn't want to be another notch on your belt, you'd be in real trouble,
wouldn't you?"
"I don't collect notches," Roy protested mildly, though he
seemed...daunted. Or--no, just serious again, the teasing smirk
ebbing from his face as something far more compelling took its
place. "I've never been unfaithful. I've just never
been...sure."
Ed considered this, wary and a little disbelieving that he was
considering it at all, but he
was supposed to be the impulsive one, damn it. What good was that
if it never got him anything he wanted?
"Just how sure do you have to be?"
Roy's laugh was soft and not mocking at all, maybe even a little
admiring. "I guess I'll know when it happens," he said, not
promising anything, leaving it for Edward to decide.
Ed stared at him for a moment longer and nodded once. He could
understand that. And realizing it was all up to him, he was the one that
leaned forward and brushed their lips together in a kiss, chaste at
first and then....
God.
He didn't know when his eyes closed, but anything they could have told
him would only have been a distraction. Roy's lips were soft, his
mouth warm, and he tasted like coffee and cinnamon--and his tongue
caressed Ed's like fire, sinuous and teasing. There was a hand
cupping his cheek, and his own were fisted in the Colonel's uniform,
keeping the man here.
Ed made a fierce sound of protest when Roy pulled gently away, and he
answered the question in the Colonel's eyes with a growl. "Yes,
I'm fine. Do you mind?"
Which made Roy laugh, but--
"Al," Ed groaned, his initial remorse flowing back into him again
without the distraction of Roy's mouth. "What am I going to do?"
"Nothing," Roy said, and cocked a patient brow when Ed sputtered in
protest. "You're not thinking things through," Roy continued when
Ed quieted enough to simply glare, demanding answers. "If I know
Alphonse-kun, he'll feel he should tell Winry himself that you're not
interested and let her down easy. She'll get over her crush on
you, and nothing will come of it. Al will stand by her no matter
what, she'll realize how much she values that, and they'll live happily
ever after. Or...."
"Or?" Ed prompted when Roy fell silent, feeling oddly guilty that Roy's
manipulative bastard-ness was actually making him feel better.
"Or she won't be able to see past the armor," Roy said flatly, "and
isn't worth him."
"No," Ed said slowly, almost as sure of Winry's heart as he was of
Al's. "I think she is."
"Then everything will be fine."
Strangely enough, he actually believed that. And if Al was
okay....
"Then what the hell are you waiting for? An order from the
Fuhrer?"
As gratifying as it was to know that Roy could, in fact, follow
directions with the proper motivation, there was something oddly
satisfying about being here at all. He'd thought about getting
under Roy's defenses, getting the man to loosen up and just feel, but...when was the last time
he'd allowed himself the same luxury? He got angry all the time
and there was always something to vent it at, and it kept him going
when even guilt and determination failed him.
Feeling wanted, though...feeling like he had someplace to come home
to...maybe that was the real pull between them.
That and the sound Roy made when Ed scraped his teeth down the line of
his throat, hungry and wanton and just maybe all his.
He'd been sure of less, but it'd never been half this much fun.
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