Gold and Charcoal

Gold and Charcoal
Chapter 4
Pink Sparkles of Doom

Alphonse had told Roy he planned to bring him to the market place because he figured it was better to let the designed cook pick out what he needed to fix their next few meals. Al had also won the promise of lasagna, even though Mustang was a little unhappy at the idea of making something Edward would be so pleased to eat. But if it make Al content as well, it wasn’t so bad. Alphonse’s attitude had shifted in just a few hours. It was like he didn’t feel guilty about addressing Mustang anymore.

Roy could tell this new ease was directly linked to what had happened in the kitchen that morning. It had just taken one of the oppressed people - a mongrel - to tell Al it was okay, to really make it so. He didn’t quite understand the boy, but he thought it would be interesting to find out more.

However, this little trip to the market never happened, as men in uniforms turned up at the door. One was a short bulky man with red hair (Roy recognized him as the one who’d supposedly delivered his letter to Maes) that was standing a pace behind a higher officer, a blond with spiked hair and a lit cigarette at the corner of his mouth.

“Major,” greeted Alphonse, polite but vaguely suspicious. “Is there something wrong?”

Havoc did not bother taking his cigarette out of his mouth, having long ago mastered the art of speaking around it. “The Colonel sent for you. She wants you two to come have a look at something.”

Edward, too, was suspicious. “What is it?”

“We think we have a chimera that’s half human. We don’t have any specialist on hand and the Colonel figured you two know more than most about human tr-“

The short boy had jumped to his feet. “Fine, fine! Come on Al, let’s be quick about it.”

“I think it’ll be a while before they decide what to do with it,” corrected the Major.

Edward gave Havoc a dirty glare and dragged his feet to the door. “Well hurry up, we don’t have all day to mess around with you guys.”

Roy didn’t know if they’d somehow done it on purpose, but he did notice the door fell back on its hinges unlocked, without the telltale glow. He had noticed at the beginning how the boys ran their hand on an array on the doorknob every time they closed it, from inside or outside. He wasn’t sure what it did exactly, but it glowed blue a few seconds and the reaction practically glued the door in place. No way could a non-alchemist open it. He’d tried, that first night.

The place was awfully quiet. Even at night, there would usually be the boys’ breathing to fill the air. Right now, there was nothing at all. Roy listened to this nothingness for a moment and pondered. He was alone, the masters were supposed to be gone for a while, and the door was unlocked.

He couldn’t be blamed for taking the opportunity.

Roy only left after grabbing a handful of the money that always remained on the table closest to the door. Coins jingling in his pocket, he walked outside the Elrics’ quarters and headed north, since he had never seen what was up there. It was his theory that if going down the hall led to the garden, gym, and restaurants, the opposite way may lead outside. He kept his body language carefully neutral, avoiding rather than sustaining the looks sent his way. He had to pass for nothing but a slave sent to fetch something.

Once or twice a frowning officer did stop him, inquiring about where he was going. He shrugged, explained he was supposed to visit Clara for his injuries – his slightly reddened bandages attesting to this claim- but that Edward Elric had not cared enough to point him the right way. As the mongrel had guessed, Edward was known for his temper; the officers nodded in sympathy - and almost gave him a pet on the head as well - while they pointed him in the right direction. It was a nice coincidence that they were directing him exactly where he wanted to go, further on.

Roy even did stumble past Clara’s personal office but he decided to keep going, as if he’d missed it. After some more walking around, he found the doors leading to the rest of the inner city. He lingered on the steps a moment, watching the open market buzz lively. It wasn’t so different than it was out there in the lower city, only here hair colors were lighter, the black replaced by blond. Again, suspicious men in blue came to address him, wondering at his black hair and shining collar. Roy continued to pretend he was lost, asked where he would be able to find a certain brand of cheese. Edward wanted lasagna, he said. Strangely enough, these soldiers too accepted his word and simply pointed him on.

Mustang attracted even more attention out here than inside the central building. He assumed it was because the rumor of Elric’s mongrel pet had gone around twice over in there already, while it was new out here. He acted like usual, going about his business while ignoring them superbly. He counted his pocket money and was able to pick up the cheese he’d named to the guards, pastas and an assortment of vegetables and spices for sauce. He added a pitcher of milk and headed back, shivering slightly as a cool wind brushed on his barely covered chest. He’d been out here long enough to realize he wasn’t where he had expected to be. If he wanted to escape, he would have to do so on the other side of town. Besides, it would have been impossible right now. He was much too easy to pin point, attracted too much attention. That and the walls were frigging tall and he wasn’t sure he would be able to get over them even if he’d been in perfect health.

Roy was delayed at the door this time. It seemed the guards barely checked people who left the building, but they carefully monitored who came in. They inspected his collar, asked some questions and looked into his bags before letting him pass. So, it was easier to get out than in. That was fine by him, since once he found out how to leave the inner city entirely, he didn’t plan to come back.

Roy strode past Clara’s office again, paused, considered the idea a second, and backed up to the door. He held his bags in one hand, knocked with the other.

“Come in.”

“Hello Clara.”

She looked surprised. “Oh, hi, um, Roy was it?”

“I’m flattered you remember my name.”

She refused to be impressed, keeping her gaze on a medicinal plant she held in her hands. “Where are the boys?”

“Off to work. Something about a half-human chimera.” Clara flinched, raising Mustang’s interest as surely as the view of a mini skirt on a nice pair of legs. “You don’t approve, Clara? They probably use mongrels anyway, no?”

“That may be. What I ‘disapprove of’ is the age of the subjects. Half human chimeras only survive if young children are used. Adults will let themselves die.”

“And it’s legal?”

The woman shrugged. “Technically, no. But if they are successful and the results are interesting…there are exceptions.”

“I see.”

The doctor stopped examining her plant, now talking to him like to a slightly irritating child. “Well? What are you here for?”

“I thought you could verify if my bones are healing well. I’d like to know for how much longer I have to be careful.”

Clara looked at him expectantly when she saw the slash marks on his chest but he only smiled. She frowned, annoyed at his silence. Her reaction too was amusing to Mustang. Blondies, they were always expecting him to know exactly what they wanted and to give it to them immediately. If she wanted to know, she was free to ask.

It only took Clara a few pats to declare; “All right. The silver has done you some good; they’re healing faster than I thought. You’re tough.”

“Silver?”

The woman reached to tap on his collar. “Silver has curative powers. Wearing so much of it helps your body recover.”

“Just like that? Wear silver and heal better?”

“It was treated with alchemy.” She grimaced at the time. “I have an appointment now.” She was dismissing him.

“Just one last question…do you happen to know why the Elrics are missing legs and arms? What alchemy did they attempt?”

The women’s eyes widened slightly, as if she had never anticipated a mongrel to be able to formulate such a question. “Alchemy is very complicated,” she vaguely answered. “There are things nobody should attempt, that’s all.”

On that, Mustang was ushered back out. It was a little absentmindedly than he walked back to the apartment. In fact he missed the last right and blinked as he found himself in a smaller corridor that was deserted but for a handful of people. A familiar face caught his attention. It took him only a few seconds to recall where he had seen that soft woman. Last night, at the restaurant. It was the lonely lady. She walked past Roy, eyes shadowed, and he told himself it was really a waste that such a pretty woman seemed that depressed. He wondered if it was because of her hair. She was blonde, but of a darker shade than most blondies. Was she cast down because of it? Roy wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been so.

“You little-! Can’t you do anything right?”

“Let go! I’m not doing that! Leave me alone!”

Roy’s head snapped toward the raised voices. A young girl with brown hair and pink bangs was trying to protect her face with her arms as a blonde man gripped her forearm and raised his other hand to hit her. The slap was loud and left a red mark but the girl only gave a chocked sob and continued to attempt to escape the man’s hold.

Beside the mongrel, the woman with dirty blond hair gasped slightly in shock, but he then heard her footsteps retreating quickly. She would not interfere it seemed. There was nobody else but Roy, the man, and the girl now. Very well then. Time to get into more trouble. He walked in a straight line, affecting to ignore the scene until he was right beside the two struggling people. Then he curled a fist and gave the blondie a taste of his right, careful to hit at an angle. He didn’t want to break his own knuckles in the process after all.

The man stumbled back, holding a bloody nose. He looked stricken. It was without doubts the first time an inferior opposed him like this. “What…what the hell?”

“Leave her alone.” Roy stated, sounding almost bored.

“What the hell, stupid mongrel pet!”

Mustang was ready to fight. He was certain to win. You did not spend twenty-nine years in the street without learning a trick or two. He had been expecting a physical battle though, so when the man extended a hand in which a red array was etched, he did not understand right away. The girl did, pulling on his arm urgently and muttering something too fast for him to understand. When the man touched the wall and the ground started to ripple, like water, Roy mentally kicked himself. Hello, blondie? Array? Alchemy? Damn.

There was only one thing to do, he decided, as a spike emerged from the wall a few inches from them. He caught the girl with one arm and ran for it. It took the best of his reflexes to save them both from the dangerous spikes trying to piece them, giving swings of his hips to change his trajectory. Once something touched his back but it only gave him an extra adrenaline boost, heightening his senses to their fullest and dulling his aches and pain.

Roy was still quite far away from the window - by which he intended to throw himself outside along with the squealing girl in his arms - and getting breathless when somebody turned a corner right before him. He smashed into the person, well nigh knocking himself out. He blinked, dazed, as he was literally picked up from the ground into massive arms. Very massive arms.

“What do we have here? Is this the girl, Gracia?”

The woman from before came into view, her hands nervously wrought together. “Yes, he was hurting her.” So she had run for help after all. Interesting. Another Al-type? Or just a female’s softness for children?

The girl seemed to know who this insanely large man was. She sobbed out his name with hope. Armstrong.

Wait. Armstrong? The guy that terrorized people with a glance?

Roy had to admit it was pretty terrifying like this…but that was because a friggin’ tank-size man was holding him off the ground like he was a five years old child.

“Now now, don’t cry girl. I’ll take care of this.” The man eased them both to the ground and went forward to meet the attacker, which had began to run up to them as soon as he’d seen Armstrong and Gracia come around. It took him some time to get around his own spikes.

“General! Hold down that mongrel at once!”

“Oh? Why should I? His collar clearly says he’s the Elric brothers’ property. What did he do that I should interfere?” boomed the man, and Mustang could have sworn there were sparkles around him. Must have been because he hit his head really hard against the steel hard chest of this abnormal man.

“He assaulted me! Eliminate him!”

A pair of blue eyes looked down at Roy. “Is that correct?”

“He was the one harming the young girl.”

“That’s true, I saw him,” quietly added the blonde woman, glaring at the cruel man in front.

“I warned you about this. It seems I don’t have any choice. You are prohibited from keeping any pet at all from now on, on the ground of abuse, mistreatment and peace disturbance.” Armstrong surveyed the corridor, which now looked very much like a death trap. “And vandalism too, it seems. I order you to restore this place at once. That is all.”

The man looked absolutely furious, clenching and unclenching his hands, but he backed up, clearly afraid. The General petted the girl’s head. She had hidden herself behind him as he argued with her previous owner. “What’s your name?”

“Rose.”

“Well Rose, we’re going to have to do something about you. Do you have any family?”

“No…” She glanced up, timidly. “Can’t you keep me?”

Armstrong looked positively crushed to refuse. “I’m afraid I already look after too many pets.”

“I’ll take her,” offered the lady. “I’m all alone and I wouldn’t mind some company.”

“That is very kind of you, Gracia.”

Rose was relieved. She bowed. “Thank you, mistress.”

Gracia smiled sadly at her and then nodded to Armstrong. The girls took their leaves. The large man nodded after them with much enthusiasm. “Beautiful, beautiful. We need more citizens like her.”

Roy wondered if he could just slip away now…he’d had time to pick up his bags and he wanted nothing more than slip back home and away from this man who sparkled. It wasn’t his imagination. Armstrong sparkled. Pink. The concept alone boggled Mustang’s mind. Pink sparkles. It was time to go home, cook lasagna and hide in a book. Yea, he’d do just that…

But this Armstrong was not about to let him off so easily. “The Elrics’ pet, is it? Well, well, you caused quite a bit of trouble. I’ll escort you back and have a word with your owners.”

Roy did his best not to twitch at both the idea of walking back beside this man and the furor this incident was going to put Edward in. He cautiously touched his ribs and grimaced briefly. Oh well. It was far from the first time he did something knowing trouble would follow. Hughes used to say it was no use having an inner danger radar if you kept ignoring it. But hey, Roy Mustang was just that kind of a guy.

Roy wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that the boys weren’t back home yet. Within minutes, he decided it was ‘bad’. Because now, he had to wait in the same room as this scary sparkling man, staring at the ceiling with a bored mind. Something told him it was not a good idea to pick up a book while anybody else but Alphonse or Edward was around. He was fairly sure it was the same here as in outside; it was prohibited to own any alchemical text and reading one could call for an execution. If you weren\'t a blondie, that is.

The mongrel had retreated to his carpet by the bed, glad to have an excuse to stay away. Armstrong was creepy in a very particular way. He was huge, muscled from head to toes and held a high military rank, but you didn’t really feel threatened by it. What scared people was his…aura perhaps? His sparkling, pink aura of doom. Roy had never thought it was possible to link pink sparkles and doom. He’d been very, very wrong.

General Armstrong was not long to seek information and entertainment to fill the waiting. Sadly for Roy, that meant him. “Do you know where they went?”

“Something about identifying a chimera,” shortly replied the man.

“They should not be long then. What’s your name?”

“Roy Mustang.”

“Well, well, Roy Mustang, do they have something to drink left?”

Roy blinked. Wait, what? He was obviously expected to fetch the man something but damn, what did he look like? Oh, fine, he was a slave. But not a very good one. He considered ignoring the request, which was in truth nothing but a polite order, but he saw more negative effects than positive ones to that line of action. So he went to check, mutely.

Orange juice, coffee and water, that was it, he said blandly to the visitor, and was very surprised when the almost bald man nodded enthusiastically to the first item. Orange juice for the General. Right. He wasn’t going to ask.

“Have you been injured?” wondered Alex-Louis Armstrong as he wrapped the offered glass in a large hand.

Roy almost raised a hand to touch the bandages. “Just a few cuts.” Like an after thought, he added; “Not the boys’ fault.” He suspected that was what the officer had wanted to know. Shrugging mentally, the dark-haired man decided to risk a comment of his own. “Rose seemed very glad to see you.”

“Ah, yes, of course. We of the Armstrong family are very well known for our beauty, strength and great kindness. These traits have been passed down my family for generations. Every pet here knows they will be respected in our presence. We have been actively discouraging pet abuse for many generations now. My sister is a perfect example. She-” It was like opening a water tap that you couldn’t stop - one the size of a river. A river falling directly on your head. Minutes ticked away and Roy slowly sank to the ground, virtually crushed by this onslaught of words and sparkles. At this rate, he would know everything about every Armstrong family member ever born on this continent within two hours. It was a pure miracle that he only had to listen for five (very long and painful) minutes before the door clicked.

Mustang jumped to his feet, dignity forgotten for a moment. “There’s somebody who wants to talk to you Shokun,” he quickly announced.

“Oh,” Edward looked startled, although Roy wasn’t sure at what: his pet’s attitude or the soldier’s presence? “General, do you have a message for me? You could have left it to the pet…”

“I met your pet as he was trying to escape a blondie after punching him and abducting his female pet.”

Roy didn’t flinch or otherwise react under Edward’s immediate killer glare. If the blond would have been able to read his eyes, he would have seen something to this effect; ‘I just spent fifteen minutes alone with this guy. You are not scary. At all.’ Edward still understood the general idea; he wasn’t very comfortable around Armstrong either…to put it politely. Roy saw how much he wanted to go hide under his bed.

“Alright, thank you General, I’ll take care of his punishment.”

Armstrong stood, his shadow alone draping largely around the pair of brothers. “You should rather reward him. It turned out that rascal had been very ruthless to the poor thing. Gracia came to get me to settle the problem, but your pet was very brave to go against an alchemist by himself.”

‘Yea, go ahead and tell them how much of a good doggy I am. I deserve a cookie.’ It was unbelievable how much tone could carry. Roy was starting to get truly annoyed at how everybody, outside of Ed and Al, spoke to him – or of him - either like to an animal or a young child. He was twenty-nine years old. Older or as old as most of these people. It wasn’t because he had black hair that he was an idiot. Now that he thought about it though, Armstrong had spoken the same way to Rose. Was it because they were pets? Did they really think putting a collar on somebody made them nothing more than mindless house pets?

Only Alphonse noticed Roy’s slightly different demeanor, and he could guess at the cause. It was funny, it was the first time he realized just how much they all - even Armstrong - spoke down to pets. Usually it somehow seemed to fit, because the slaves reacted accordingly, shyly nodding to whatever their masters said. But when it was applied on Roy…it just didn’t work. It ended up making the speaker look like the retarded one. Mustang did what he wanted to do, and soft words did not impress him. Neither did screams, at that. Alphonse wondered briefly how come he listened to anything they said at all. Roy had proven he wasn’t afraid of defying anybody and was always ready to face the consequences with good grace and a smirk.

“I see…thank you.” To everybody’s relief, Armstrong seemed to have other things to go back to, as he was quick to leave once he’d made sure Edward had a good understanding of the situation. Amazing how the sparkling man’s presence had taken up so much space in the room, squishing them into submission. They started to recover, regaining colors and self-confidence. Alphonse noted he felt his heart beat again.

Ed stomped his foot as he glared at the man he called his pet, trying to decide if he was going to get angry or not. Alphonse watched his brother’s inner struggle flicker on his face, amused despite himself. “I’d transmute you feet first in the ceiling for wandering out, but for some reason I think you learned your lesson by yourself. Just tell me how the hell you got out.”

“You left the door unlocked. So I went and got what I needed to make lasagna.” Roy nodded vaguely toward the forgotten bags beside the door.

A glint of pleasure lighted in Edward’s eyes. Something to the effect of: ‘lasagna = good. Real food, yay!’ A second after, clouds of suspicion settled in. He walked over, took a hold of Roy’s collar to yank him down, and touched the back of his flesh hand to the man’s forehead. “You don’t seem sick…so, what did you really go out to do?”

Roy gave Ed an amused look, easing back into his usual attitude. “As much as I would like to have something to worry you with, I didn’t do anything. I simply wanted to make sure I was going to be fed tonight. You’re absolutely horrible at taking care of your pets.”

“I’m not, you’re just troublesome!”

“Really? What happened to your previous ones? I wouldn’t be surprised they died of hunger.”

“Shut up! They were perfectly fine!” Edward voice was reaching the point when it turned into a screech. Alphonse flinched and gestured to Mustang to please shut up. That was a sensible point better left alone.

“Perhaps,” said Roy, quick to take his cue from Al’s flinch and sign, shifting the subject. “ The dog also showed itself to the veterinarian. It seems I will indeed survive your care. Clara was not too impressed with the marks though. Nor was Armstrong.”

“I didn’t do those, Lust did!” replied Ed, yanking the man lower in his indignation.

“I said it wasn’t your doing, but I wonder what the General would say about my ribs if he knew…”

Edward winced and searched for a comeback. “Yeah, sure, I’ll give you to him if that’s what you’d like. I’m sure he’d take really good care of you.”

“He already has too many pets, sadly,” retorted Mustang in a falsely regretful tone, although Al suspected the idea the threat made him want to hide. It would make anyone want to hide.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

“How about letting go, Shokun? Buying ingredients was only the first step. I need to ‘cook’ the lasagna next.”

Edward let go, but he wasn’t done talking. He planted a hand on his hip, and scoffed at Roy. “And really, how dumb can you be? Is it a fantasy of yours to get killed by an alchemist? Why the heck did you attack him?”

“It was incredibly careless of you,” added Al. “Didn’t you learn from the first time?”

“I didn’t know he was one.”

Ed rolled his eyes while Alphonse pulled something out of his pocket. It was silver and round; a pocket watch on a chain, engraved with a dragon. “Alchemists have these. Everybody else will have a bracelet on their right wrist with a certain sign on it. If it’s a wrench, that person is a mechanic. If it’s a whip, they’re a chimera tamer. If it’s a book, they’re a scientist or a researcher of sorts. Simple soldiers have a gun, but they are usually in uniform anyway. There are a few others, but we rarely see them around here.”

“Is it clear now?” asked Edward. “Or do we need to repeat that?”

“Perfectly clear, Shokun. I’ll be sure not to anger soldiers or alchemists from now on.”

“That’s not the point!” Edward flung his arms out in exasperation.

Roy only smirked, escaping to pick up the bags and dive for the kitchen. Alphonse half wanted to join his brother in his exasperation, but he couldn’t help but admire the mongrel’s strength. Nothing scared him.

Edward let the pet go, turning his attention to his younger brother. “One reason, Alphonse. Give me one good reason why I can’t transmute him into a frog.”

Al tilted his head. “Frogs don’t cook.”

“Food isn’t the only thing I think about! Frogs might not cook, but they don’t talk either! Or make trouble!”

Alphonse closed his arms around his brother’s slim waist, nesting his chin on Edward’s shoulder. He liked being touchy but was usually shy around other people. When he spoke, his lazy tone held just a hint of amusement. “Mn, you’re right, Niisan. Frogs are very boring, aren’t they?”

“Yes! I mean, uh…” Ed trailed off as he turned his head and saw his younger brother was smiling - a smile without any trace of melancholy. This didn\'t happen all that often, Alphonse knew it, so of course Edward would notice it with a glance. It was just sad that seeing him perfectly content was so startling his older brother. “What are you so happy about?”

“Nothing, Niisan. I’m just amused.”

Amused? Edward visibly didn’t catch how Roy was ‘amusing’, but
Anything that made Al smile this way was something he would try to keep around. As rash and troublesome as the longhaired blond might have been, Alphonse was aware of his efforts to make him happy. It was just that Edward didn’t understand how Al thought, which made his attempts awkward and often useless. Most of the time, just knowing Edward was trying was soothing to the younger boy.

Alphonse had raised his real hand to rest right where the automail port merged into his brother’s shoulder and thought he felt knots there. “Niisan…is it me or is your shoulder irritated?”

“A bit. Not much more than usual, really.”

Without a word, Alphonse started to knead. It was something they often did for each other, massaging their shoulders when they felt pain. When you had automail and were under stress, it happened quite often. Their legs rarely gave the same problem, but when they did, the boys mostly took care of it each on their own.

They had their fights, but they also had their good moments, just like this one, hugging and providing relief from muscle aches. There were the mornings with coffee and the lazy nights spent talking, playing games, and cuddling while reading. There were the visits they paid to the gym to spar and the ones they paid to Winry so she could repair what they’d broken during said sparring. There were their nights out, the times they went to eat at the restaurant or for an occasional excursion outside - in the inner city’s or the outer’s market. All in all, they’d been leading a bit of a lonely life, but they’d managed because they were together. It wouldn’t have been bearable alone, what with him and them and just…everybody.

Things didn’t go so well lately though, mused Alphonse with regrets. It had all begun with Roy of course. Al didn’t blame him, but right then he wished the man would go away and allow them to settle back in their routine. The blond kept kneading as he thought, moving along the line of the automail port expertly. He knew how it felt, knew it was okay to probe hard with his fingers. He knew more about his brother’s automail than he did about his own.

Roy was a novelty, something that shocked their quiet life. Yes it was unsettling, but after all it could only be good for Edward to learn how to function around others. It would be good for both of them to learn to adapt. It might take some time, but Alphonse decided it would probably be worth it in the end. For starters, he wanted to figure out the mystery of that man’s mind. Al could read his brother almost perfectly, but he was just starting to see past Mustang’s image. He had to admit he had a true interest in the mongrel. Roy was different and he made Al feel better about himself. It was a good start.

“I need a shower,” said Ed abruptly, breaking the comfortable silence. “Make sure he doesn’t burn anything.”

Alphonse hummed an agreement and released his older brother. He glanced about the room, wondering what to do. He really didn’t feel like working or reading right now. What else was there to do? He shuddered at how empty the place felt suddenly. Not even the familiar sign on the wall could make him feel better. The windows were too large, allowed a potential observer full view on the inside. He could have been watched right then…. Al definitely wanted company. Niisan was busy, so he only had one person to edge closer to.

Roy didn’t say anything at first, only noting Al’s presence. It wasn’t very long for the boy’s stare on his back to become slightly annoying, however. “Sit down, I’m not going to break anything.”

“I know.” Alphonse crossed his arms and leaned on the counter, watching Roy take measures and stir an orange-ish substance. “Where did you learn to cook?”

“A friend taught me.”

“Ah?”

“Yes, he was a mongrel too,” patiently explained the man. “But his parents weren’t. He was raised by them until he was eleven.”

“What happened?”

“His color blind father found out his son had dark hair. Kicked him out.”

“Oh.”

Although he appeared to be looking at the boiling pot, Al’s gaze was a little distant. What could have been on his mind? After some hesitation and much inner debating, Roy left the stove and wandered to the fridge from which he pulled a forgotten bottle of an alcohol he was not familiar with. He could not even read the name, it was in an unknown language. He’d tried it so he knew it was at least decent-tasting. He poured a glass and pushed it to Alphonse.

“What’s that for?”

“Drink. You seem to need it.”

“Why?” Al frowned. “Am I so easy to read?”

“Not really. I’m guessing.” Roy tilted his head, but without looking at the blond. “Am I wrong?”

“…Guess not.” Those two words were followed by a slight relaxation of both parties. “How did you guess then?”

“You’re distracted and your brother wasn’t nearly as angry as usual.”

“So you would have thought everything was fine if he’d screamed his lungs out and attempted to throttle you?”

“Pretty much. As far as I can tell, that’s how he normally reacts to me when I act like a sentient and independent being.”

Al looked at the glass and took an experimental sip. “I’m surprised you haven’t just right out asked about it.”

“And get another punch? No thanks.”

“So you can learn after all.” Alphonse was the first to be surprised by his own playful tone, it showed on his face. He was teasing Roy like…well like they were friends, Roy noted.

Roy pulled himself to sit on the counter and the sight made Alphonse chuckle lightly in his half empty drink. “What?”

“You’re odd.”

“Because I’m a mongrel who can’t hold his place?”

“You would be odd even for a blondie.” Alphonse looked at his empty glass thoughtfully and back up at Roy. “Can I have another?”

“Better not. You’re not used to this, you’ll get drunk.” The dark man watched Al’s eyes shift slightly, his face tense lightly at being told ‘no’. But he dismissed his displeasure just as quickly and just nodded.

By the time Edward dragged himself out of the bathroom, skin red from scrubbing a little too hard, the lasagna had been assembled and was baking in the oven. The boy wandered in the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel low on his hips, his hands up as he tried to braid not-quite-dried hair.

Edward found his brother and the mongrel bent over the counter, drawing on sheets of paper. Alphonse was explaining something about arrays and illustrating his points one by one. Ignoring them, the shorter Elric went to look inside the oven, probably interested by the appealing smell that already rose from it.

Roy twisted his neck to eye Ed openly, once again marveling at how the metal of the automail merged with the flesh. He didn’t have a clue how the arm could be moved like a real one. How did they connect it to the nerves? Perhaps it was those wires he saw underneath, neat the shoulder. Truly amazing work. Upon closer inspection though, he realized it wasn’t entirely like a normal flesh and bone limb. It moved a little differently, a little stiffly, and wasn’t as bendable as the real one.

His dark gaze also wandered lower, finding a wiry body with more muscles than he had expected. The slim curves he’d already noticed, the creamy pale skin of somebody who did not see the sun too often, the flat stomach, hips too narrow to be those of a girl but not lacking charm, then the towel which was a real tease. How high would Edward jump if Roy reached to steal it? It was an amusing thought, but not one he cared to see through. He had more manners than that. He had a quick glance for the automail leg too, finding it more compact and solid-looking than the arm. It was probably because it didn’t need the same flexibility.

Edward gave Roy a dirty glare. “What are you staring at?”

“Your arm and leg are very impressive, Shokun. Who made them?”

“A friend.”

Al raised his head from their scribblings. “Oh, about Winry, I wanted to ask, when is she coming back from Rush valley? She goes every year, but this time she’s been gone for longer than usual. I hope she’s okay.”

“She came back yesterday I think.”

“But she didn’t come to say hi.”

Ed shrugged and water drops flew off him. A tiny puddle of water was gathering at his feet. “Must have been tired. She’ll show up soon enough, don’t worry. She’ll want to show us the thirty new wrenches she got and try them all on us.”

“We do need a tweaking.”

“But I hate taking them off,” complained the elder.

Alphonse grimaced and agreed. “I know. But maybe we won’t have to?”

“She’ll do it just to torture us. I mean, me. She likes you better than that.”

“If you didn’t fight with her so much…”

The brothers were doing it again, sliding into their own little world where nobody else existed but each other. Edward’s instinctive hostility died in those moments, which in turn brought a new relaxation to Al’s stance. Roy had not seen them around enough people to know if they were always this way or just with pets because ‘pets’ didn’t count. He would have liked to ask if it was painful to remove automail like Al’s face seemed to suggest, but he preferred to go back to the doodles. He could ask later. Arrays were fun to draw, and he was even beginning to recognize what the more basic ones were for. He really liked the ones for fire. They had the coolest designs in his opinion.

Edward soon lured Alphonse back into the main room with a last dark glare over his shoulder. Ah, so Ed had not completely forgotten about him.

It wasn’t long after that for the food to be ready. Lasagna and milk was presented to the boys. Roy had never expected to receive the most murderous look ever for a glass of milk.

“Milk? Why the hell did you get milk?”

“It’s good for bones and I tend to like taking care of myself. Your reaction is telling me I shouldn’t be surprised at your height after all.”

Edward’s attempt to dash at Roy was foiled by Alphonse’s steady hand at his shoulder. “Niisan, eat. You can get angry later.”

Mustang performed a strategic retreat. He always ate in the kitchen anyway, keeping an eye on the brothers from there. He did not miss the way Al’s gaze went from the kitchen to his older brother. If he’d had to guess, he would have said Alphonse would have liked to invite him to sit down with them but was afraid of Edward’s reaction.

Roy smirked slightly, mentally telling Al he could not expect to change his own habits in a day. ‘But thanks for trying.’

---

Note: Yea, I had to up their ranks. Since Major is the lowest for alchemists in the series, I figured here it should be the lowest for blondies, although non-alchemists just don’t go above Colonel. Normal people can’t go above the Major rank, so that they’re never above a blondie.