Gold and Charcoal

Gold and Charcoal
Chapter 6
Pantsed

“The man you assaulted previously was found murdered today.”

Roy dropped the mask entirely, growing serious and thoughtful. “I believe we should wait for the boys. Alphonse will tell you the same things I did. I was never alone outside this room. It should solve the issue.”

“That’s if they decide to acknowledge Alphonse’s word.”

The mongrel leaned forward, frowning at the cool woman. “Why wouldn’t they? The Elrics seem famous around here.”

“Rather infamous in fact. Certain people wouldn’t dislike putting the boys in trouble.”

Wasn’t this great. The man trailed a finger along his collar and gave an acknowledging hum. Yes, it was better to wait for Alphonse to corroborate his alibi.

The wait was longer than Roy expected (Ed must have had more skills than he had accounted for), but neither Hawkeye nor Armstrong seemed eager to leave. They sat like statues, lost in some mysterious thoughts. Alex wasn’t even sparkling today, and even if the sparkles did scare him, Roy thought that it was a bad omen.

Three pairs of eyes flicked to the door when the duo of blond brothers strode in. Ed looked about to collapse, pale and with a hand clamped on Al’s shoulder for support, even though there were no visible injuries aside for a bruise on the side of his neck. He had most likely wasted his last strength to camouflage his exhaustion on his way back.

Ed barely paid attention to the scene. “What did you do this time? And can it fucking wait?”

Armstrong spoke with a grave voice. “I’m afraid not, Elric Brothers. Sit down please.”

Edward grunted unhappily as Al steered him to the couch facing the one currently occupied by the couple of soldiers. The shorter Elric flopped down ungracefully, reversed his head on the armrest and sighed. “So, what is it?”

Al pushed Edward’s feet down the couch and settled in the freed space. “Niisan, pay attention.”

“I am, I am.”

Hawkeye began to explain again. “You might recall the incident where your pet attacked an alchemist. That same man was found murdered today. Your pet is a suspect in this case.”

Edward snorted, as though it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “Yea, because men in towels are so dangerous. You can forget it, he didn’t do it.”

“How can you be so sure? I thought he spent the day with Alphonse.”

Edward made the effort of gazing directly at the woman. “Look, Colonel, if he wants to kill anybody, it’s me. He certainly didn’t go wander around for some loser.”

“And I was with him all day,” added Al. “Plainly impossible.”

“So both of you are ready to swear he’s not guilty?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“It won’t be so easy,” replied the lady regretfully.

“Let me guess…they’re doing this on purpose?”

“Our orders are to seize all suspects.”

“And eliminate them? So it’s a yes.” Edward sat up and gave Hawkeye a hard glare. “While I’m sorry to disappoint you, knowing how much you love doing your elimination job…” He touched his hands, filling himself with an alchemical charge. A blue spark crackled in the air. “Here’s a friendly warning; you’re in my home here. You could…try…to carry out your orders…or you could take the door…right about now. How’s that?”

A hard line set on the blonde woman’s face, but she did not try to defend herself against the accusation. “Be reasonable, Edward.”

“Niisan is perfectly reasonable.” Alphonse was tense, expecting a confrontation. He brought his hands together as well, holding the palms and fingers pressed together. Roy wondered if it meant they could both do alchemy without an array. Probably so.

Only then, with both the boys on the defensive, did the General speak again, a hand raised to emphasis his words. “Please, calm down, Elric Brothers.”

A sick smile twisted Ed’s lips. “We’re calm. We’re so very calm. See, we know it’s his doing again. He’s taken her away from us already. He’s not taking anything else. You’re not shooting this one down, Colonel. What is ours is ours, and it’s certainly not any of his business. He’s ignoring the laws because he can get away with it. Except with us. We’re fully prepared to defend our rights. You’ve been warned. Now leave.”

Silence stretched, the kind of tangible thick silence you could cut with a knife. Edward glared, Alphonse glowered, and Hawkeye stared back. Armstrong? He was a little left out, as the only one who did not radiate hostility. He was alert, ready to defend the lady at his side, but little more.

“It’s very…unfortunate that you came in before we were done…interrogating the suspect,” slowly said Hawkeye.

“Very unfortunate indeed,” agreed Al a second later, a light of comprehension in his eyes.

“We will report the lack of evidence and convey your wish to cooperate.”

“Of course.”

The boys did not rise, only watched the General and Colonel leaving. Their hands only fell limp and apart when Hawkeye pulled the door behind her.

“This has to be the craziest week of my entire life,” mused Roy the second the door fell back on its hinges.

“And mine,” distantly said Alphonse. He addressed his brother. “Niisan…”

The blond pulled his braid over his shoulder, playing with it as he slumped back on the armrest. “Yea, I know. But he’s always trying to give us trouble anyway. When it’s not one thing, it’s another. Right now, it’s the pet.” Ed twisted his neck to glare momentarily at Mustang. “And I’m just doing this because the only person allowed to kill you is me.”

“Duly noted.”

“I’m dead,” complained Ed, yawning. “Can’t feel my body. Don’t need this now. Jerk.”

“Don’t look at me. You’re not getting any massage. It was your fault,” warned Al, standing and stretching lazily. “I’ll be playing cards with Roy until they come back.”

“No strip poker tonight,” said Mustang as Al handed him the pack of cards. Edward didn’t say anything to that, having already fallen asleep on the spot with his real arm over his eyes. It amused the towel-wearing man. “You really did exhaust him. Good job. I knew you were stronger than him.”

“Only sensei ever beat me.”

“Oh? I wonder how you’d do against Armstrong,” teased the older male.

“I’d win, somehow,” firmly replied the boy, pulling himself a chair and watching Roy shuffle the cards. “I know my own strength.”

“What about the Sins?”

“I’m not crazy. I like myself whole. How’s your chest?”

“Fine. No more bleeding, no infection. It’s almost scary how precisely chirurgical these wounds were. It probably won’t leave anything else than very faint scars.”

“Only ‘almost’? I should offer you a t-shirt. ‘I survived Lust’. Trust me, not many people can say that.”

“You flatter me.”

“Mn…” Al picked up his cards, scanned them quickly. Not a bad hand. He smiled. “You first, Roy.”

-

It was the soldier called Havoc who came back to them later, a duffle bag thrown over one shoulder. He was looking fairly content, an attitude clashing with the others’ sober – borderline menacing - faces.

Havoc raised his hands in an appeasing gesture. “Relax kids, no need to kill me. It wouldn’t be very nice, I can’t even do alchemy.”

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING A BABY UNABLE TO TAKE CARE OF ITSELF?” Ed jumped - and promptly fell to the ground due to Al’s grip on the hem of his coat.

To play it safe, Al placed his automail foot on his brother’s coat while he addressed the soldier like a civilized person. “Colonel Hawkeye sent you because we wouldn’t fear you could potentially attack us,” he reasoned. “I see. So, what do you have to say, Major?”

Jean Havoc munched on his cigarette. “Well the trick would be to keep your pet under watch so closely there will be no doubts he didn’t do it when the killer strikes again.”

“What do you mean, strikes again?”

Havoc grimaced. “Well to tell the truth, this would be the second murder. So there is indeed no way your pet did it. But they’re afraid that people will think there is a serial murderer in our walls. Which of course is exactly the case. They just don’t want to admit they didn’t find him yet. So they blamed the first kill on the man’s pets, and are trying to blame this one on yours. But with a third murder people will start to talk - and covering it again by blaming a pet won’t work. Twice in a month? Odd, but believable. Thrice? No way.”

“So we wait and hope he strikes again? That sounds cold.”

“Whatever works,” Ed said grimly, still on the floor. He’d just propped himself on his elbows to follow the conversation. He then spoke with a voice dripping sarcasm and distrust, “So, I suppose the Colonel actually has a good idea of what ‘close watch’ is?”

“I’m assigned to guard you. In theory to protect you from any attacks from your pet, should he be guilty.”

Edward scoffed. “So we’re stuck with you for an undetermined amount of time? Great.”

“I’ll be good,” Havoc flashed them a brief smile before moving on to the next point. “Next, your pet is to be chained at all times. I suggest the bedpost.” From the bag slung over his shoulder, Havoc pulled a chain with shackles on both ends. “They don’t have a key, you control them by alchemy.”

Up to now Mustang had allowed everybody else to chatter about his fate, trusting Al to defend him. But at this, he reacted. He gritted his teeth, trying to refrain from saying anything, but his sudden hostility was visible. Chain him? To the bedpost? Who the hell did they think he was? A dangerous animal? No wait, that was what they were thinking. Like hell he was going to take this. He had a fucking collar already, and now a guard, wasn’t it enough?!

“Good luck trying to put that on me,” he snarled the moment Havoc stepped toward him. He looked calm, with only his narrowed stormy eyes to betray his tension.

Havoc pointedly ignored the slave, which was not precisely a good idea. He was even looking toward Al when he caught Mustang’s wrist. “Alphonse, could you do it? I’m no alchemist.”

The mongrel clamped his free hand on the one holding him and swirled around, bringing his hip against the soldier’s. His feet were positioned perfectly. Hold, angle, leverage. All he needed to do was to shift forward to pull Havoc over his shoulder effortlessly. There wasn’t even a slight strain on his ribs.

Havoc was fast, Mustang could grant him that. He hit the floor, a hand already to his holster, and tried to spring to his feet gun pointed. Better luck next time; Roy gracefully kicked the weapon out of Jean’s hand and before the soldier knew it, the chain was wrapped around his throat and he was hauled to his feet by a brutal yank.

“How do you like your chain, blondie?”

“Roy,” snapped Al, on the same tone he would use to chastise Edward in a similar situation. The ‘stop being a moron or I’ll get mad’ tone.

“We’re trying to clear you of the murder charge. Don’t go and fuck it up.” Edward didn’t look very concerned.

“I understand the guard. I’ll play along if you want to drag me around on a leash,” calmly explained Mustang. “But you had better think twice about attempting to tie me down anywhere.” Roy released his prisoner and stepped back warily, not trusting the man enough to believe it was safe to turn his back on him. He deliberately stomped the soldier’s fallen cigarette.

Unbraiding his hair, Ed mockingly threw; “You deal with the pet, Al, since you like him so damn much.”

Al didn’t answer, bending down toward the kneeling and wheezing man. “Major? Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Havoc tested his voice, which sounded a little rusty. “But suddenly I wonder why you didn’t allow the Colonel to take care of him. He may not be a murderer, but he could become one any day.”

“I am not deaf, Major. If you’re implying I’m like an unpredictable beast,” Roy smirked, “You’re right. But I also have the privilege to own a brain of my own, thank you. I am as likely to assault somebody without reason as you are to whip out your firearm in the hallway and fire at random.”

“I believe he needs to be restrained,” murmured Jean to Alphonse, wincing as he touched his throat, not from the pain, but because of the lingering feeling of a deadly grip. That mongrel was a strong one.

Alphonse rubbed his forehead with his palm, mind overheating from trying to understand and solve the problem. “No, no, it’s fine. We know we have a tiger, we can work it out. Just let me…here give me that.” He took the chain, touched his hands together before applying one shackle to his automail. A short alchemical reaction later, chain and automail were bound together. The boy sought Roy’s gaze, held it. “How’s this? Better?”

“Perfect.” Mustang was entirely relaxed this time and good-naturedly authorized the Elric boy to alchemically shackle half his forearm with a thick metal cast. It was strange and fascinating to have alchemy performed so close to him, practically against his flesh. He felt the prickle of energy on his skin and liked it. He wasn’t afraid of alchemy, although he knew he should have been. Alchemy was the blondies’ weapon, something a mongrel like him could not fight against. He found it beautiful.

Al tested the chain, tugging harshly with his flesh hand. It was very solid, no doubts. It would not shatter. It was long enough to allow them to stand outside of each other’s personal space, the chain linking them measuring about five feet long.

Ed had just finishing brushing his long golden hair. It was long like a girl’s, although few dared to ever say that to him. He rarely let it down in front of strangers; already, he was braiding it back into the thick cable that would hang low in his back and swing at his every step. On him, you could call it a whip. “That’s a stupid idea Al. He could just drag you behind him.”

“He wasn’t tied before and didn’t go anywhere, why would he now?” Al called Havoc by his rank. “Is this okay?”

“Your call, although I tend to agree with your brother. And try not to wander out of my sight. I don’t put it above them to try to condemn both of you at once.”

“They’d love that, wouldn’t they?” He shrugged, like dismissing the whole incident. “It’s late and I’m tired. It’s been a long day. Niisan, can you transmute the couch?”

A minute later, the couch was no longer one. Instead, it was a slightly odd-looking bed. Havoc gave his thanks and everybody tried to settle down for the night. Edward changed in the bathroom this time, showing a hint of shyness toward the visitor. Havoc just discarded his boots, the top of his uniform and the white shirt underneath before lying down. Just like Al had once explained, the man had a strange bracelet on his right wrist, and if he would have gotten closer, Roy knew he would have seen a gun on it, since it was a soldier’s sign.

It was a little more complicated for Roy and Alphonse. The man waited literally glued to the bathroom door, which had been left ajar for the chain’s passage, while the boy proceeded to change and brush his teeth single-handed. He had to use alchemy to remove his shirt, but didn’t find it troublesome. Just a matter of clapping his hands; once to open the piece of clothing, and twice to restore it.

Edward stared at Roy the entire time, like afraid the mongrel was going to peek on his brother. While staring, he was reminded of Mustang’s underdressed state. And he was obviously much, much bothered by it, as attested the growing redness of his face. He growled, pitched himself off the bed and went to rummage through the closet. A pair of jeans in hand, he treaded across the room.

Mustang was highly amused. Too easy. “Must I point out of how many inches this won’t fit, Shokun?”

A furious glare was earned for these words, and Edward breathed thrice before even attempting to think of something to say. “I noticed, you giraffe.”

“And here I thought I was a dog.”

“Al called you a cat,” huffed Ed. “Point is, you’re an animal.”

“Only in bed.”

The way Edward slapped a hand to his face to keep himself calm was exceedingly entertaining. Sensing that saying any more would bring about his untimely death, the mongrel did not add anything, even though he had a few interesting lines in mind.

Roy was sure he heard Ed mutter, under his breath; “I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him. Oh, I’ll so kill him.” Regaining his composure, with great efforts, Ed said, “I’m going to use alchemy to make them fit, that’s all. It’s nothing difficult for somebody like me.”

Roy studied the jeans. There just wasn’t enough material to cover him entirely. Almost half his legs would end up bare. “Don’t give me shorts,” he warned. “Try for threads and rips.”

“Yea, because shredded pants are all you’re used to.” Ed touched his hands together, reached – and froze. Not looking up - in fact quite busy staring at the ground - he ordered Roy to take the towel off. It was in the way.

It was certainly unnerving to just hear the smirk in Mustang’s voice as he casually pulled the thing away and said ‘done’. Strange how one normal word could be so intensely insulting. Roy was talented like that.

Edward worked very quickly, avoiding touching any more than the tip of his fingers to Roy’s hips. The alchemical reaction rolled down Roy’s lower body and once again he experienced the pleasant skin prickling as the jeans shifted to fit him. The top was impeccable, correctly covering the important parts, but the legs were just as Roy had requested, with several large gaps showing his tanned skin. The white threads hanging in those gasps and against his skin only brought more attention to the skin tone. Blondies were far too pale, as were most of their pets. But Mustang had lived the largest part of his life outside in the sun – and the rain – and it was easily noticeable. It was quite an interesting skin color.

Alphonse stepped out and glanced at his brother’s work. “That looks great. But, um, am I wrong in assuming you forgot underwear? You should have transmuted the towel Niisan. He’s already taken a liking to it anyway.”

Edward almost gawked, because Roy’s sparkling eyes said he had thought about it too, but had preferred to let Ed get all embarrassed. The boy’s hands clenched into fists, but he turned back to the bed without giving in his apparent urge to squeeze the damn man’s neck with his automail. It was a bad thing to try around Alphonse.

“Nii-oh fine. I’ll figure it out tomorrow,” sighed Al, giving up on this one. He tugged Roy behind him to the bed. He usually slept head toward the windows and right hand on the side. But with the chain, this wouldn’t work. Instead, he lay head to the ‘foot’ of the bed (it looked the same either way) so he could let his automail hang from the bedside. Following suit, Ed moved his pillow to the other side as well. The chain curled on the ground right beside Roy’s long body.

And so they all settled to sleep, under Havoc’s watchful and openly disapproving gaze. Even though soldiers were trained to be light sleeper, it was entirely possible for Mustang to kill both Al and Ed before he could react. Mustang knew Havoc was aware of it. He watched the intruder through his lashes, following the man’s thoughts easily. The blondie was telling himself the boys had this guy with them for some days now, and had him sleep beside their bed without a second thought. He was telling himself that if something was going to happen, it would have been over with already, would it not? Roy watched Havoc think these things, watched his face relax as he dulled his worries just enough to allow himself to stop staring at Mustang’s motionless form and slide into a superficial sleep.

Fool of a blondie.

-

When Havoc first squinted at the morning sun, Roy was awake, silently sitting back against the edge of the Elric’s bed. His right leg was straight on the ground but his left knee was up and his free forearm rested on it, the bound one motionless at his side so the chain would not make any sound. He was gazing at the man in uniform through half-closed eyes, much like a lion would. Havoc stared at the mongrel as a faint smirk appeared on dry sun-tanned lips only to fade away the next moment. Oh? Already awake? What a surprise. It was hard to tell when Roy was the creepier; when he was smirking, or when he was not. Either way, it made people uncomfortable to be studied by these dark, calculating eyes. It felt unfair, that with just a glance, Roy could assess so much out of somebody, while he remained unreadable.

Roy’s eyes never wavered, watching the soldier pick up shirt and uniform top and slide his feet inside his boots. A minute later Havoc was whipping out a cigarette and smoking away to give himself an attitude while he sustained Mustang’s gaze, perched on the edge of his transmuted bed.

The clock ticked, and eventually one of the forms under the covers shifted, Alphonse yawning once or twice before sitting up, wide-awake. The chain rattled, momentarily startling him. His eyes followed the chain links and found Mustang on the other end.

“Slept well?” If Roy wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of an apology in those words. Alphonse was aware the mongrel liked to steal a few hours of sleep on the couch. With the chain, it was impossible; Roy was stuck to the bedside until the boy rose.

Obviously thinking Alphonse was talking to him, Havoc nodded politely; “Perfectly.”

Roy rolled his eyes at Al. Stupid blondies. The teenager returned a faint smile and tore himself from the warmth of the covers. “Bathroom, then breakfast,” he informed the mongrel.

So they took their time to do their business before moving to the kitchen. They found out they had a glorious amount of three eggs left. Flour, milk and orange juice were almost all there was beside them.

“We better go pick up some things then’” said Al regretfully.

The dark man ran a hand through his wild hair, pondering the issue. “Do you have some cinnamon here?”

“Uh, I think so. You mean brown sugar, right?”

“It’ll do.”

“Must be some left…let’s check. But um, don’t put your hand in obscure boxes or bags.” Al made a contrite face. “Some of those things have been there for months… possibly years.”

They searched, chain clicking and swinging between them. Indeed, Roy found quite a lot of foul-smelling containers. He swept them all to the garbage without looking inside. He was sure it would have cut his appetite. Brown sugar was found in a perfectly hermetic pot, right beside a bag of popcorn that had apparently been visited by a mouse or five. The popcorn was thrown out.

Roy was satisfied, tapping on the container’s top. “Good, good.”

“So what are we having?” inquired Al.

“French Toast. And you might want to start with the coffee.”

In a silver bowl went the eggs, milk and flour. A liberal amount of sugar was also added to the mix. Roy stirred the substance, occasionally adding flour or milk until he gained a smooth-looking caramel mixture. He heated the stove and reached for the half loaf of bread they had left. One by one, he dipped and soaked the bread slices before placing them in the cooking pal until both sides looked like cooked pancakes do. When he deemed them ready, Roy gave a short nod to Al and the boy placed the slices on a waiting plate.

“Alright, done.” The stove was turned off; more plates, glasses and silverware taken out. Arms charged with all those things, they made a first trip to the table. Their second one brought the actual food, along with milk, orange juice, coffee and a new bottle of maple syrup. At least they had a lot of the latter.

“Come on and eat, Major,” invited the teenager.

“Looks good,” said Havoc. His expression indicated he was glad for the invitation.

“Roy’s saving our health,” replied Al, indirectly informing Jean of who he should be grateful to.

“You should wake your brother.”

“Never mind him. He’s grumpy when somebody tries to pull him out of sleep. He’ll drag himself over as soon as the smell registers in his brain. Which should be…right about now,” explained Alphonse as incoherent mumbling rose from the bed.

They watched with amusement as Edward painfully brought his mind back to the conscious world. He flopped out of bed and wandered toward the origin of the smell that had roused him. Al gave him a cup of coffee first of all, to make sure his brother would be at least alert enough to distinguish the food from the plate it rested on.

“I hate morning,” proclaimed Edward as soon as his speech center powered up with the caffeine’s help.

Havoc laughed. “We noticed.”

Roy felt annoyed. That should have been his line, not Havoc’s. But it was something, to see Ed’s eyes snap to somebody else than himself. “Still here? Wouldn’t you have a job to do or something? It’s not like my mongrel is going anywhere, chained like that.”

“It’s to be on the safe side. We don’t know what they could try.”

“Like I care.”

“We’re sticking our necks out for you two,” warned Havoc, perhaps insulted his will to help was dismissed so rudely. “They might try to bring us down to get to you.”

Alphonse swirled his empty cup on his finger. “We know that. But we didn’t ask for it.”

The smoker shook his head. “You’re hopeless you two. Alright, as you wish, but we’re doing it anyway.”

“Why?” prompted Roy. He was intensely curious about Havoc and Hawkeye’s desire to help. What were their real motives?

“We’re good guys,” shrugged Jean.

Roy’s disdainful look spoke volumes. Of course, they were ‘good guys’. Riiight. Well perhaps they were, he amended, to their own kind. The hundreds of kids that would go to sleep in the streets tonight were not of their concern.

Mustang dutifully picked up the dirty plates afterward, aided by Al. The both of them were trying to do the dishes - it was a little complicated with that damn chain and Al was considering removing it for a while – when they learned they had a visitor.

The over-enthusiastic knocks at the door had Edward say, loudly, “Al, Winry’s here!”, before he even opened the door to check. Rot peeked out of the kitchen just in time to witness a pack of flesh, bones, long blond hair and joyful mood falling on Edward like a bag of bricks to the head. Except bricks didn’t cling to you while babbling like mad. Edward waited until her speech speed slowed down a little and the words started to make sense. She was narrating her trip to Rush Valley. “Seems you had a good trip.”

“Oh, I did! And then they had that arm, you should have seen it! Be-au-ti-ful! I should practice carving so I can improve your automails’ designs too!”

“No!” Ed cradled his automail protectively. “No more messing with the arm! Not after last time!”

“Oh please, don’t be such a child.”

“I’m trying to protect my own health. No way. My arm is fine like it is.”

“But I’m sure it needs a tweaking, doesn’t it?” Her eyes sparkled, visible even to somebody standing across the room. Another sparkling specimen, noted Mustang. But this lady was nowhere as freaky as Armstrong was. So this was Winry, the local automail freak, to repeat Edward’s words. With that knowledge, it was easy to speculate the working case she had with her contained brand new wrenches she was dying to try out.

“That…yes,” admitted Ed. He was half-pushed and half-dragged to the couch and forced to the ground. Sitting cross-legged on the couch, she snagged his arm, picked out a wrench and started probing.

Alphonse wandered in, Roy in tow, and smiled at her. “Hello Winry. I was starting to worry about you.”

“Oh, Al, hello,” she said without looking at him. ‘‘Sorry, I’ve been busy. This guy had a cat with two automail limbs and he taught me a trick or two about automail meant for animals. I had to outfit Den with the best immediately, of course. It was a little complicated, but you should see the result!”

“I’m sure it’s amazing.”

Winry kept her eyes to her work, so concentrated that she did not even notice there were two other men present. She could work and talk at once, like a good female multitasker, and so she did. “My helper is driving me crazy. She’s a wonder in the kitchen, but a real danger around my tools. I thought you two could take her in. She could tidy up the place. She’s cute and quiet, not bothering at all.”

Roy had been surprised Edward could be so civil to somebody other than his little brother. Now he saw the ever-present hostility surface even for the girl. “Winry, don’t start. We’ve been over this already. We don’t need any damn female pet around!”

The girl raised her wrench and smacked Edward upside the head with it. “Stop being rude! Honestly, how long are you going to behave like that? You can’t keep seeing your mother in every female on Earth!”

“It’s not ‘every female’!” The boy replied, rubbing his head with his real arm.

“Right, only the pets.” She rolled her eyes. “Get over it Ed. You two need somebody to feed you properly before you just fall on the floor and die. I can’t be here all the time, and beside I probably cook just as bad as you do.” From the sound of it, it was an old argument, repeated a few times already.

“We already have somebody feeding us!”

This was new. Winry’s voice was disbelieving. “Yeah? Who?”

“Behind you, you automail freak!”

The mechanic bestowed another smack onto Edward’s skull before turning around. She blinked at Roy. “Oh. Hadn’t seen him.” She looked again. “A mongrel? Male? That’s weird. I thought you guys didn’t like men at all, especially when they’re tall enough to remind you how short you are.”

“Shut up!”

“Who’s going to make me, bean? And stop flapping your arms, I’m not done!”

There was more bickering – punctuated with wrench swaps and indignant curses - but eventually the automail check was over and the last screw put back on. Winry stood to stretch, rightfully tired after dealing with what Roy suspected was her most difficult customer. “Can I have something to drink? Then I’ll look at you, Al. If Ed’s arm was busted up like that, it can only be from fighting you. How many times do I have to say these things are not meant for such ill treatment? Honestly, boys! You could have some sort of respect for my hard work!” She waved her wrench, but did not hit Ed again.

“What would you like, pretty lady?” asked Roy, all sugar and good manners. “I’m afraid we have little else than water, orange juice or milk.”

“Milk would be fine,” said Winry after a moment of confusion. She gazed at Roy with an awed smile. “He’s so well trained!”

“He’s not trained,” snorted Ed before Roy could tick at the insult and speak for himself. “He’ll bite my head off if he can.”

“You’re exaggerating, Niisan.”

“I’ll agree with Alphonse here,” added a new voice. “He had a chance to ‘bite your head off’ while you slept. He didn’t.”

Winry was again visibly startled to find Havoc smoking by an open window. “Oh, Major. I hadn’t seen you there.”

“I would have thought the Colonel would have informed you of what was going on.”

Roy didn’t care for this; he started to walk away to fetch the milk. Winry blinked as Alphonse was pulled away, and noticed the chain. She glanced at Havoc again; “…is it serious? Tell me about it.”

The Major covered the story quickly, so that by the time Roy and Al were back, Winry had a good idea of the problem. She took the glass Mustang handed her and impulsively pulled him down to his knees, hugging his head to her chest and patting him. “Aw, the poor thing! He certainly hasn’t hurt anybody, you can see he’s a nice one. They’re always picking on the defenseless.”

The elder Elric turned an interesting color shade, akin to the one of his coat. He spluttered at her, “Winry! Don’t–! Stop-! Take him away from there!”

“Uh? What’s wrong?” She was truly clueless.

“I’m not complaining,” purred Roy, purely to annoy Edward. Not that it wasn’t true. Young ladies could stuff his face against their chest any day. Especially when they wore nothing but a strip of black fabric across said chest.

Alphonse was a little red-looking, but he looked away instead of saying anything. He did not notice his older brother reaching for the chain to yank Roy away from Winry. The mongrel was only happy the chain wasn’t linked to his collar; that would have strangled him. He just managed to conceal his irritation, instead assuming a neutral air to show Ed he was still on top of the game. Unknowingly, Winry jumped on his side.

“Edward! What’s wrong with you? You’re so cruel!”

“He started it!”

“He didn’t do anything, you did!”

Roy was used to ladies fighting for him, even if not in this exact way. It was an interesting twist. Winry was just short of swinging her wrench again when she noticed what time it was. She jumped to her feet. “Oh, I’m sorry guys, I have to go. Got an appointment with a client. See you later!” And the place was devoid of feminine vibes once more.

“I hate her!”

“No you don’t, Niisan.”

“Almost do.”

“Mn.” Alphonse wisely let it go. “Are you going to work today?”

“Hell no. I have to keep an eye on this circus. You’re not getting in trouble behind my back.”

“Niisan, you’re the one who always gets in trouble, not me.”

“That’s a lie!”

Havoc smoked silently, observing Roy, like trying to see through his impassible face. Instead of paying attention to the brothers, Mustang was busy analyzing what little clues Winry had dropped. You can’t see your mother in every pet, she’d said. Logically, he reflected, after a while any girl would have picked up habits that reminded the boys of their mother. Apparently, they hated that. They hated men too, and not just because of Ed’s height issue, although it seemed a big part of it anyway.

And geez, who was he? The man bothering the Elrics? Who was the \'she\' he had taken away? The teacher? Somebody else? Why? Roy wanted to find out about it, badly. Mysteries were there to be unraveled.

The mongrel felt himself watched; he looked up, upheld Havoc’s gaze. It didn’t take a genius to figure out they did not like each other at all. Maybe one of them would have said something, but there were yet more knocks at the door.

The knocks interrupted Edward’s raving. “Bloody hell, what’s with everybody? Is this the official hanging spot?” He stalked to the door, began to scream at the people behind it.

When they could place a word in, the unknown uniformed men at the door said; “We’re here to take custody of one mongrel called Roy Mustang.”