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On a Saturday Night	By : trowacko Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 703 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-On a Saturday Night
- 1
Title - On a Saturday Night

Author - trowacko

Rating - NC17

Warnings - Hughes/Roy/Gracia overall, angst, nostalgia. yaoi and het.

Disclaimers - I do not own Full Metal Alchemist in any way, nor do I make a claim to. No profit, no harm done.

AN - 399 miles from home. my undying love for the wonderful beta. (and i checked before i posted the fic! i really did!)

"Do you remember the day my husband died?"

Riza glanced up from her tea, surprised. Gracia's expression was curious and hurt at the same time and it pained Riza almost as much as a memory only a day old. She nodded.

"I do."

Riza remembered the day Maes Hughes died as if it were the day before. Sitting opposite Roy at his desk, they'd been discussing a number of inconsequential necessities with a rare moment of true levity. To her recollection, it wasn't often that Roy opened up enough to make jokes that were more than merely wry observations. She'd been laughing when the phone rang and was still smiling at whatever he'd said - it was curious that she could recall that day so well and not remember what joke Roy had told.

Planting her chin on the palm of her hand, elbow resting against the cluttered desk, she'd smiled and prepared to wait for him to finish the call. Instead, his face turned an odd ashen color. Before she could so much as frown, he'd shot upright with the phone tight against his ear.

"What?" By Roy's tone, levity might as well never have existed. "When?" Whatever answer had been given, it was the wrong one. Slamming the phone back in its cradle, his hand held it there as though it would dare ring again should he let it go.

"Colonel?"

She'd called him Roy only a minute before, and when she thought about that too, it was rare to call him by name rather than rank.

Riza didn't see when Roy's fingers had uncurled to grip the base of the phone as well. She only had time to pull away when Roy jerked it off his desk. The line leading toward the wall snapped free and the cord missed her nose by a scant three inches. The sturdy bell in the phone rang in protest when it struck the wall with enough force to crack the plaster before it clattered to the floor.

"Sir!"

Riza got up, shocked and, for the first time in her service, afraid of her commander. Roy stood silently with his palms pressed against the top of his desk, somehow finding two spots that weren't completely covered. His mouth was set in a tight-lipped frown and he breathed roughly through his nose. Dropping her gaze from his face down to his hands, she saw the way his fingers were trying to curl. If given the opportunity to apply enough pressure, she could envision him tearing out twin chunks of wood and rendering his desk to the same fate as the telephone. Reaching out, she laid a hand on his and spoke softly, careful to keep her stance ready to pull away if she had to.

"Colonel?"

"They called as a 'courtesy'," he bit out. He laughed, brief and bitter. Looking up, his face still lacked color, but his expression had smoothed into something unreadable. "Maes Hughes is dead."

"What?" Had she not already left her chair, she was sure she would have stood too. "When?"

And maybe if there was another phone, it would have joined the first one.

"This afternoon," Roy replied. His whole body seemed to deflate as he stepped back to slump in his chair. "I was 'informed as a courtesy as a new investigator would take a few days to assign Mr.Hughes's duties'."

"How?" Riza sat down in her own chair, mind whirling with questions that only seemed to spawn more. Hughes wasn't an active combat soldier, nor did most of his investigations pertain to much beyond research of military matters. He was a healthy man in the prime of his life and work at that.

"He didn't know anything other than Maes is dead. "Another dry, bitter laugh. "No one with information could be bothered to call. I get the canned messenger."

Roy's voice was hollow and quiet. Riza had no idea if anything she could say would provide even a hint of comfort. He'd been friends with Hughes before she'd even known him. Since the academy, at least, and that had been how long ago?

"Sir, if there's anything I can--"

"Information, Hawkeye, I need it all." Roy's voice was steadier and his gaze strong as he sat up. Riza mentally breathed a sigh of relief and got up.

"Immediately, sir."

Roy got up and ran a hand through his hair. "I have to go," he muttered. Lost in his own office, he wandered around his desk, shifting papers, opening and closing drawers as though he'd know what he needed when he saw it. Closing one drawer, he jerked it open again and pulled out a pair of gloves and slipped them into a pocket. He couldn't seem to find whatever else he looked for and Riza doubted he was looking for anything in particular. It was the motions of a man used to ritual; leaving meant keys and things to take home, the hat and coat by the door and maybe a few files. She readied his coat - Roy wasn't the hat kind of guy - and prepared her own list of things to do.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Colonel?" she asked quietly as he slipped into the coat.

He paused in the midst of an arm sliding in a sleeve and finally nodded.

"Yeah. Let everyone know if she so much as gets a telegram, I'm incinerating it and the messenger."

Somehow, he was simply Roy again and Riza offered a tentative smile. "Yes, sir."

He was gone a moment later and Riza stood alone in his office. Word would spread fast, she knew. If Roy had already been informed, she wondered if Gracia Hughes hadn't already gotten that telegram. While the military had its share of botched missions, sometimes the things they didn't fuck up were fucked up by default. Crossing the room, she picked up the ruined phone and set it on top of the desk. A rattle within it guaranteed it was quite beyond repair. By the time the colonel returned to his office, the phone would be replaced and only the scar on the wall would remind him of the call. Fingers running over the crack, she decided against having that repaired as well. For whatever reason, she had an idea Roy would have wanted it that way.

"I remember it like it was yesterday," Gracia started with a small smile. Riza mirrored it, though hers was bred of having the exact same thought only a second before.

Gracia Hughes didn't possess the strength to rip the phone free and damage a wall. Lacking that, she sat heavily on the kitchen floor listening dumbly as a very insincere voice sincerely apologized for calling with the news. On the verge of thanking the caller, she paused, then simply hit the disconnect button on the phone. Dropping the handset, she heard the comforting hum of the dial tone and that seemed to be the only thing her mind wanted to dwell on. She wasn't exactly sure how long she'd sat on the floor when a knock sounded on the front door. By then, the operator had apparently given up, leaving the silence of a dead line that begged to be hung up. She granted its wish, brushing her apron and smoothing her hair back before she opened the door. On her doorstep, Roy stood rigidly expressionless until he saw her. His eyes closed briefly and his mouth turned downward where only two words managed to slip free.

"Fucking bastards."

"Colonel--"

In the sunshine, in his neatly pressed uniform, it was all too real. Gracia shook her head and held Roy tightly. Tears didn't start right away, but she didn't mind; there would be plenty of time for that the rest of her life. Roy's arms went around her waist and that's all it took for the dam to break. She felt her chest hitch and closed her eyes in dismay. If ever she had a doubt that emotion could be physical beyond tears, it was laid to rest when she felt a dark surge start in the pit of her belly and work upwards. As much as she tried to fight it down, like a diseased bubble needing to burst, it rose to the surface and erupted, leaving her sobbing brokenly against Roy's uniform.

Her mouth opened to let out a sound too big to have come from her body and the wail that sounded would have sounded comical in another lifetime. She felt strength flee her except for in her arms which refused to let Roy go.

His head leaned against hers and he guided them into the house and closed the door. All the while, Gracia could only weep against his shoulder, wanting to apologize for the mess she knew she'd leave behind when she managed to pull herself together. Right then, she was fragments waiting to break away, held in one piece by Roy's embrace.

Somehow, somewhere in the middle of her inability to stop crying, she couldn't remember why she'd started in the first place.

Years seemed to pass and her sobs tapered off to sniffles. She felt her arms sag from their hold, but Roy didn't let her go. When Gracia finally opened her eyes, the sight of her own home made her stomach roll over.

"Roy," she sighed against his shoulder. "It can't be real. Last night he was-- he was just--"

-- alive and happy and life was normal. In his for-Elysia voice, he wanted to know what she wanted him to bring for dinner when he returned and she'd said she had dinner covered. Dessert, she'd finally laughed. Bring me something sweet.

Getting killed wasn't her idea of sweet by a long shot.

"What did they tell you?" Roy asked.

It was someone's idea of a joke, Roy would take care of it, she knew; hell, her husband would join him and she'd cheer them both on. She hoped whoever had decided on this game would be fired and sent away where they wouldn't be able to work anywhere except in a sewer because that's where they belonged. Nodding at having a course of action once Maes came home, she finally pulled away from Roy and stood unsteadily, but on her own.

"Shot dead. In the street-- Roy, he said Maes was shot in... "

"Because of an investigation?" he asked. She nodded and he strode past her to the kitchen.

She watched him pick up the phone. That damned phone, why had she answered it at all? Maes had a schedule of when he called her and it should have been him calling. She was in the middle of setting the kitchen to rights and preparing for dinner when she was rudely interrupted--

"Where's Elysia?"

"School," she replied. Sitting down at the kitchen table, she let him take over while she tried to keep herself convinced that of course it was an error. Maes couldn't have been shot because of an investigation. The work he mentioned from time to time was safe and he was more often than not nearby and easily reachable.

She hadn't heard Roy talking and hadn't realized he'd even made a call until he hung up the phone.

"I'll go pick up Elysia," he advised. "Lieutenant Havoc is sending someone to keep an eye on things down here in the meantime."

In a time when she had taken care of most matters in her home, it was Roy who was taking the most action. With a surprising sense of welcome, she couldn't refute anything he would do. Now she just needed her daughter safe at home. For the first time since she'd been married, she didn't want to think of her husband.

Almost.

"Roy," she whispered when he brushed past her. He paused with his profile to her rather than facing her. "Roy, I'm so sorry." She pulled him against her without expectation of any reaction; she just needed him to know she knew how hard this loss would be. He hugged her back tightly, but she knew he wouldn't hold her for long and she let him go first. Gracia watched him leave with squared shoulders and the stride of a man with a purpose. Alone in her house once more, she went to the couch and curled up on one end. Until her daughter returned, she clung to one of the little pillows and waited. Seconds ticked by, punctuated by the wall clock in the kitchen. It was almost funny how each second sounded exactly like the previous one, she thought.

"Maes had just started in the investigations department when we first met," Gracia explained, deviating from whatever it was she'd started with mentioning Hughes' death. Riza's smile softened at the nostalgia in Gracia's voice. "I was working in the library and he came in asking about a few books." She laughed and shook her head at the memory. "He looked so serious when he walked in, but when he started talking to me, he seemed more like a goofball and the uniform was just a disguise."

"Did he ask you out right away?" Riza teased. Her smile faded when Gracia's expression wilted.

"No," she replied. Her gaze went from the table to the living room where Roy held Elysia's hands as she bounced on his stomach. Elysia let out a particularly loud squeal of delight. The girl wasn't as young as she used to be and Roy's smile was strained, but it was obvious he wasn't going to tell her to stop. He caught their silence and turned toward them with a wider grin. Gracia turned her attention back to Riza and laid a hand on the other woman's. "He was still seeing someone else at the time."

Hughes and Roy wound up in the local pub for as many rounds of drinks and pool as their stamina and the local sharks demanded. Both were the sort of young men who didn't mind the occasional brawl as long as there were a few celebratory drinks to follow. When they bid the house goodnight, it was generally met by loud groans and good-natured calls for one more beer and another game. Sometimes there were cheers, but they were drowned out and who cared for nay-sayers anyway? But Saturday nights were reserved for more than just good whiskey, poker and kicking ass on the pool table.

There hadn't been the awkwardness of new couples when on one Saturday night, Roy had found Hughes in his bed. Lips kissed the nape of his neck and he let his body submit to every nudge. Roy's breath was harsh and he moaned when he felt slick fingers slide into him. Caught up in feeling himself so effortlessly explored, he didn't marvel at the ease until much later. In his bed, Hughes had claimed more than just his body. His soft cries were answered by quiet moans and kisses against his shoulder while they rocked together, slow until Roy had pushed back, and hung his head. He heard a quiet chuckle and then there was strength behind the thrusts into him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he bit his lip. His body grew tight with pleasure and his hand went to his cock, stroking and squeezing. Teeth raked across his shoulder and the burn traveled straight to his groin. Wet heat spilled over his hand and Hughes clung to him, holding him steady. Slow thrusts made his body tremble, and Hughes' voice washed over him as Hughes found his own completion. Strong arms held him close and Roy remembered thinking he'd wasted so much time not knowing Hughes had wanted him too.

Hughes had been a tender lover. From the first time they'd shared Roy's bed to every time they had time from their duties to be together, Hughes had always been attentive. It was... nice, Roy supposed, to remember the times when Hughes' hands touched his skin, the way his expression softened as though he bared himself completely when they were lovers. So very different from their professional relationship that the two were almost completely day and night. No one needed to know of what happened after hours, and Roy had no inclination of sharing it with anyone. Soon enough, waking up together became ritual, just as pool and beer did on Saturday's. Except he could count on Hughes for more than one night a week, and in the thoughts of his younger years, that number was enough to get any man's heart thudding.

Roy mused at the things one remembers when recalling a lost love. All the instances where affection was obvious and the things that were taken for granted. Like being the only one who shared Hughes' heart.

Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised when Hughes had introduced him to Gracia. Or at the blatant way she'd held his arm and smiled at him as though he were merely a passing stranger.

The woman was slight and attractive in the way a woman can be when she doesn't pay particular attention to her looks. Hughes had looked openly happy when he made introductions and invited Roy to sit down. Roy hadn't wanted to, but he did because it was Hughes asking him. Just as he didn't want to open the door of his little house later that night, but it was Hughes knocking and he couldn't deny the man entry.

"I like her, Roy," Hughes had said. They had sat on the bed, their knees close to touching, though not quite making contact. Their positions were more like two kids sent to their room with the way they hunched, both paying more attention to their hands rather than each other.

"That's it then?" Roy finally replied. No more Saturday nights of beer and pool, no more late night knocks on the door. No more Hughes at his back to nuzzle his throat and no more scratchy kisses because Hughes refused to have a smooth chin - that was Roy's job.

"I'm telling her about us."

It took the statement bouncing around his head a few times before it finally sank in that what he'd heard correctly. Roy blinked and turned to Hughes. "Why? Why would she need to know at all?" He could already picture the way she'd look at him from then on, no matter how briefly - or how long, he thought but refused to dwell on - she remained with Hughes. Better to be a friend than... what? The last lover, perhaps.

"I like her," Hughes repeated, staring studiously at his palms. He hesitated a moment and finally gripped one of Roy's hands, twining their fingers together on his knee. "I think I could love her, too. But I still love you."

"You--" Roy's fingers reflexively tightened and he nearly pulled free of the hold. Hughes held on stubbornly. Instead of looking at Hughes, he looked at their hands. Love hadn't been a word either of them had said to the other; it simply seemed obvious enough that there hadn't been a need before. For some reason hearing it made him feel more secure.

Loved. When he had joined the military with the intention of making it his life, he had believed it precluded him from having a lasting relationship with anyone. Hughes was the exception, the strong attachment he needed to do what he did.

"Don't let me lose you, Roy."

"Someone else?" Riza was genuinely puzzled. Maes and Gracia Hughes - it was natural enough that Riza had never even considered what Gracia's maiden name was. The two just were.

Gracia nodded. Now she was back into fond nostalgia. "Someone special to him and someone who was special to me because of that." She laughed briefly, the sound of years long gone and of a lady who had barely left childhood to be a woman. "Not that it was easy to know the man I was fast falling in love with was already taken..."

No, it had been far from easy. Knowing Maes loved her was obvious and after some much needed reflection, Gracia understood why he'd been hesitant to act on her not so subtle hints at taking things further than a few kisses. The problem was that the one he loved was Roy of all people. Someone in his department, some girl tucked away in a different town where he planned on returning, or even a wife - all those would have been acceptable.

Acceptable by what standards? Were they only the expectations one has growing up, thinking she'd find a good man to be a good wife to, never mind the women who came before her? Ah, but that was the catch there, too. This wasn't a previous girlfriend Maes was talking about, but a man. Not a previous lover, but someone he still claimed to love.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remained fixated on one thing for so long that she'd finally sought out Roy to clear it up.

Roy Mustang. Cool, detached Roy who had charged up a rank or two already since the academy. The soldier who was building a legend of being untouchable no matter how available he seemed. Well, Gracia had the answer why, yet she couldn't very well tell any of the girls pining for him that his heart belonged to his best friend.

It had been lunchtime when she'd caught him in the office. While an aide collected his order for the cafeteria, she accepted his offer to join him. Quite properly, she excused herself to the ladies room while lunch was delivered and he'd been unwrapping sandwiches by the time she'd returned.

"On a day as lovely, you should try eating in the park," she'd started casually as she sat down. Roy stopped in the midst of opening a container with some kind of salad and shrugged. He took one look at its contents, grimaced, and set it aside.

"I do sometimes," he replied and continued unpacking food she wasn't really hungry for at all. And given the way Roy fussed over it, he had probably lost his appetite, too.

"Maes told me last week," she started, then stopped. She didn't need to explain, she saw when Roy's lips pursed together tightly. The cool, collected demeanor she'd arrived with rapidly fell away and she barely managed to grasp the paper cup of coffee he had been in the process of handing her.

"He said he would," Roy sighed. The man sat back empty handed, contemplative. On his face, Gracia saw an expression she knew she'd worn for the better part of the week.

"He said..." she trailed off and set the cup down before her shaking fingers could spill the hot contents on her skirt. Picking up a napkin, she dropped it and finally settled on clasping her fingers together on the half-littered desk. She met Roy's gaze steadily and tried again. "He said he loves you." Roy nodded and kept his silence. "He said you've been together for a long time. Is that true?"

For the first time, Roy seemed puzzled. Finally moving, he retrieved his coffee for a small sip and sat back, regarding his cup.

"I don't know," he replied. "I've known him since the first year of the academy--"

"I mean together. In love."

"Three and a half years."

Three and-- compared to her, what? Two months? It did, in part, answer the question of Maes' sincerity for commitment that had been nagging at her.

"Do you love him back?" She didn't know what answer she really wanted to hear and both 'yes' and 'no' would have made her scream anyway.

The underlying wariness Roy harbored melted and he sat up straighter. The cup was set aside and Roy met her gaze with a measure of ferocity. "I do."

The look on Riza's face was stark shock that Maes Hughes had been having an affair with the woman he ended up marrying. Gracia squeezed Riza's fingers and sat back with a half-smile.

"It's odd, the things one's mind can accept when it wanted so badly to reject," she continued. "I remember wanting to know I didn't have any competition for Maes' heart. I was so stubborn in wanting that, it didn't occur to me for weeks that I never had competition at all."

The shock on Riza's face mutated when it couldn't possibly become stronger. Had she not already been sitting down, she might have ended up on the floor.

Roy had said he had lunch in the park sometimes and it was a statement she hadn't dwelled upon until lunch one Saturday. Under a tree that sat atop a slope that gave a view of the grounds, her boyfriend sat with his back against the trunk, eyes closed and his fingers interlaced behind his head. On the higher part of the slope, Roy appeared asleep, splayed across the grass using Maes' thigh and his own fingers as a pillow. The two were out of uniform and relaxed, so content, so right that she stood over them with a small smile. It was then she remembered the times before she'd found them and hadn't seen anything more than two close friends - hell, no one did.

"Whatever it is, it's probably cold by now unless it's that damned salad you keep bringing--"

"Roy Mustang," Gracia started frostily, "if you and Maes had your way, beer and pizza would be an acceptable diet."

Maes opened his eyes and perked up immediately. "Are we having our way today? Pizza sounds good." Like a big kid, he scrambled up, leaving Roy's head to thud against the grass.

The basket was emptied of its contents and Gracia tried to save the containers from being knocked open while Maes discovered that there was no pizza to be found At one end of the basket, there was a compromise in the shape of four bottles of beer wrapped in towels, and a jug of tea for her.

Roy grumbled predictably when her salad made its appearance on his plate. A mess of spaghetti made up the rest with a chunk of toasted bread for accompaniment. He accepted the beer and cracked it for a long draw before he settled himself for lunch. Sitting in a rough triangle, the three ate with little conversation. For the first time in weeks, Gracia felt comfortable with the two and not self-conscious about making jokes with Maes in Roy's presence. On his part, Roy seemed like himself - whatever that was - and not the stoic young soldier she'd met a few months before. It seemed obvious now that where there was one, there was also the other. The same was practically true of herself and Maes to everyone else, she realized. She smiled inwardly that everyone was also missing something important with that thought. Not that she'd have it any other way.

With a satisfied sigh, Maes took his place on the shaded side of the tree where he'd be out of sight from the campus. She'd curled up on his right side with his arm around her shoulders. On the other side, Roy resumed using Maes' thigh for a pillow. Against Maes' warmth, it wasn't the man who held her that captured her attention, but the man resting on his leg. Roy seemed tired before, and now full from lunch - even her 'damned salad', she thought, amused - he drifted off.

"He works himself so hard," she murmured. She felt rather than saw Hughes's nod.

"It's important to him," he agreed. "But he's stubborn, too. He won't sleep in late on weekends, but if he naps every so often he won't get insomnia."

Gracia shifted and curled an arm over Maes' chest. "You take such good care of him."

Maes fairly beamed. "I try," he replied rather smugly.

Elysia's grumble was loud enough that it shook Riza out of her stupor. The girl tugged on Roy's hand until he sat up. Flopping at his feet, she pushed them toward him until he sat cross-legged. Satisfied, she went to his lap and sat down. Obediently, Roy's arms curled around her, creating a place for her to lie in. The scowl in her little face softened out and without so much as a goodnight, she went to sleep.

"I think someone's tired," Roy whispered. He seemed to curl into himself as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Should I take her?" Gracia asked. Roy shook his head.

"In a little bit."

Riza cleared her throat. "Gracia - I don't understand--"

"In a little bit," she echoed Roy and returned to her tale as though an interruption hadn't occurred. "So then there were three of us instead of two, but only two were ever really seen. It would have been fine on its own, but I was a woman who wanted to give her love a family, too. And Maes wanted children. It could have been right without marriage, but in a lot of ways, Maes was still an old-fashioned guy."

"You and his other girlfriend--"

A series of thoughts connected. Things fell into place. Riza's jaw dropped.

"I want to get married."

"We're getting married?" Roy asked wryly. An eyebrow went up and Hughes gestured in exasperation.

"I'm asking you before I ask her because--"

Roy waved him to silence. "I know," he growled and ruined his attempt at looking surly with a crooked grin. He turned in the confined space of his bed to face Hughes. "I love her too, you know."

Hughes sighed happily. "I know." Hughes pulled his lover against his chest in a rough hug. Their mouths connected in a slow kiss that grew steadily in heat and urgency.

Despite the slick heat of the kiss, Roy couldn't help but think about the upcoming marriage and what it would mean. He let it go as Hughes maneuvered between his legs and settled over him. Crushed, filled, complete, he cried out as Hughes claimed him. He watched through lidded eyes as Hughes remained intent on him, nudging them into pleasure with every thrust. His fingers dug into Hughes' back and he bit against a shoulder as he came, satisfied right down to not being able to consider moving when Hughes sank against him.

Ah, Hughes, I love you, too.

The next morning Gracia poured him coffee with a bit of a smirk. "A little rough on him last night, don't you think?" she chided. Roy looked up from his newspaper innocently.

"Rough?"

Roy watched warily as she ignored the look and walked around the table. He steeled himself for a smack on the back of the head. Instead, he felt teeth bite into his shoulder and jumped in surprise. Shooting upright, he turned around to find her smiling. Crossing her arms, she nodded.

"There, even."

"Even?" he retorted with wide eyes that narrowed to match the devilish grin that crept across his face. "And what about you?" It was Gracia's turn to look surprised and her arms fell to her sides.

"I'm telling!" she cried and bolted for the door.

Roy was closer and he swept her up before she could make it. Using the momentum of their movements, he pulled her against him and bit her shoulder. Her cry of laughter was loud in his ear and he didn't set her down until her arms were wrapped around his shoulders. Nuzzling against her throat, he growled in her ear.

"Now what're we going to do about those nice little streaks you left last week?"

As though in warning, he felt nails rake against his back through his shirt and shivered. Pulling away, he grinned at the way she blushed. He leaned down to kiss her nose and didn't resist when she tiptoed to let him kiss her lips. Her hands crawled across his shoulders until they cupped his chin and her face became serious.

"I- I think I love you too, Roy Mustang."

Riza's eyes went to the large ring hanging by a simple chain around Gracia's neck down to the wedding ring on her left hand. Looking into the living room, she saw a matching band on Roy's right hand and nodded. It was such a simple ring, easily overlooked and one he didn't wear all the time, though upon reflection, she'd seen it there all the time now. Her gaze returned to her empty hands and she blinked as she tried to sort her thoughts.

"So you got married," she breathed. It wasn't clear who she spoke to, but Gracia nodded.

"Children seemed like the next logical step and we tried for a long time." Her smile turned back toward the past. "Trying starts out as fun until it becomes almost a chore. Of course, it didn't help that by then a lot of traveling was involved and Maes wasn't home as often as he liked. And then we got some bad news and, well... I wanted children so much..."

Three homes became two and visits back and forth were frequent. Gracia remembered waking up on mornings Maes had gone to Roy's for the night and walking around their little house with an empty room that awaited the news that it would soon have an occupant. Alone in it, she felt a sense of desolation that it was taking so long to get pregnant. She knew Maes was worried as well, but he tried to keep it from her as much as possible. Medicinal arts weren't as advanced as alchemy, but alchemy couldn't help them.

After some months of searching through various doctors, they'd found one who claimed he could help find a possible cause and she waited out the two weeks he said it would take. Roy had gone with her for the results. Neither had bothered correcting the doctor when he kept referring to Roy as Mr. Hughes. She'd thanked the doctor and numbly followed Roy out of the office. Back in her home, she sank against the couch and wept. Roy pulled her onto his lap and she curled up and cried until she had no more tears left. The empty room would remain empty, quite possibly forever, and if that had to be, Gracia wanted out of the house immediately.

"I mean it, Roy," she sighed. She'd gone up to her room at his behest and dressed for bed. "I can't live in this house another minute," she said as she climbed under the covers. Somewhere in her chest, she felt the tears welling, waiting for another opportunity to pour free. Miserable, she sat looking around the room when he left for a few moments and returned with a cup of lukewarm tea.

"Sleep a little," he murmured and handed her the cup. As much as she didn't want to, she took it and drank it off. The sedative left a mildly bitter aftertaste on her tongue and she grimaced as she handed the cup back. "Will you stay until he gets back?" she asked. Roy nodded and she lay back, letting him tuck her in.

In the days that followed, Roy spent the night on the couch and took to making meals while she and Maes sought hope through a second opinion. She remembered his patience until they pulled free of their depression enough to have a lively meal once more. A setback, Maes had proclaimed, that's all it was and they were still young. Maybe the doctor's proclamation that Maes might not be able to father a child had been wrong; after all, medicine, as advanced as it was coming along, still had a long way to go. And 'might not' didn't mean 'could not'.

The tangent sprung from talk of marriage seemed natural enough that Riza nodded for Gracia to continue. "How long until Elysia came along?" she asked, settling herself in for more of the story.

Gracia sighed and got up. "I better put her to bed real before it gets too late," she replied and got up.

As though on cue, Roy rocked himself back and gained his feet with a bit of effort. The girl was nearing seven and while she was still practically a baby, Riza could see where she was soon going to be all limbs. The transfer from Roy to Gracia seemed practiced and while Elysia didn't fully wake up, she scowled and a little growl issued from her half-parted lips. Riza wanted to chuckle; she'd seen that expression enough times that--

"--Roy," Riza stuttered, eyes wide as he made his way to the table and took the third chair. Speechless, she watched him sit down and he picked up where Gracia left off as though he hadn't heard her.

"It took a couple of months to realize it was going to take a miracle for her to get pregnant," he began and clasped his hands in front of him, much the same way Gracia had done.

While the idea had sprung in his head at least a couple of times, when Hughes made the suggestion and Gracia echoed it, Roy sat in his chair, utterly shocked. For a few moments, he sat with his untouched beer before him, wanting to be quaffed in one draught. What the hell, he thought and gave it a go. Half-empty, he set it down and regarded the two seriously.

"Will you help us?" Gracia asked and set a hand over Roy's. On the other side, Hughes had copied the movement leaving Roy feeling mildly trapped.

"Now?!" he cried and tried to pull back.

"Dammit, Roy, not this very second," Hughes gusted. "But soon."

Roy found looking at Hughes' pleading face knocked down his defenses brick by brick, just as it always did. Dragging his eyes away to Gracia, he discovered her expression worked ten times faster.

"Just when did you two concoct this brilliant plan?" he asked. It seemed not long ago they had both been utterly distressed and in the last week at least, they'd become almost giddy. And somehow, they'd left him out of why until the last minute.

"A couple of weeks ago," Gracia answered and squeezed his hand. "We thought we better think about it for a while before we went ahead--"

"Went ahead?" Roy interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

"With asking, Roy," Hughes growled and shook his head. "It's not like we were just going to drug you one of these days."

"Though," Gracia put in thoughtfully, "you could have put that on the table too, Maes."

"Yeah, but by the time the kid was ten it would've been obvious," Hughes replied dejectedly as though he had seriously considered it. "And," he added, "it probably wouldn't have been just one time."

"Ah," Gracia nodded. "True."

Roy shifted in his chair. "Just how many times are we talking?" He watched Gracia pick up his hand and kiss the back.

"Please, Roy. As long as it takes."

He said he had to think about it and he did for all of two days. Nervous as a boy with his first lover - and really, Gracia would be the first woman in more years than he cared to recall - Roy slid beneath the covers of the bed she and Hughes shared. He watched her exit the bathroom with her robe open and averted his eyes instinctively.

"You can look," she had grinned and let it drop to the floor. Obediently, he did look and found that doing so slowed down his heart for a different tempo. Her body was no stranger to him, but they hadn't gone further than the occasional make out session on the couch, and a few times in Hughes' presence at that. So why was he so nervous, he wondered?

Well, because the two people he loved asked him to help give them a child. One he would father and they would raise as their own. The only thing that had really been the stickier point was that no one else would know and he'd become the good uncle. He'd wondered if he could do that until he thought of what Hughes must have gone through. Accepting the fact that the child he would be raising wouldn't have been fathered by him must be as difficult as the reverse. It made deciding easier, though it wasn't easy by a long shot.

Gracia was all grace as she opened the covers and climbed inside the bed. Sidling over to him, she let her body rest against his while he tried to catch his breath. A slim hand worked over his chest and Roy's breath hitched as his body responded. He felt her shift and turned to match the movement until she was under him and thin legs brushed his thighs.

"Gracia," he croaked out and buried his head against her shoulder.

"Remember that I love you," she whispered back and kissed his ear, giving it a slow, teasing lick.

Pulling back, he did remember and leaned down to kiss her, letting their mouths war with each other while their bodies searched for better contact. Her legs went around his waist and Roy balanced himself, thrusting shallowly until the angle was right. The resulting moan gave him more confidence, and he drew away, breath held and body poised before burying himself in the wet, welcoming heat of her body.

Gracia Hughes was the epitome of what he'd consider classic refinement. Keeping that in mind, he made love to her as tenderly as he could. The first time he claimed her, it was more from duty than as a lover. Each time after, he explored more of her body, found places to tease and provoke until one night he felt her nails draw lines of heat down his back that he was half certain left bloody trails in their wake. It made sleeping on the couch hell and by morning, he'd been sore, stiff and not more than a little cranky. Instead of reading the paper, his head rested against it while Gracia started the coffee. Hughes had walked in just after she did and made the error of slapping him on the back. Sitting upright with a hiss, he glowered at Hughes and shifted uncomfortably.

"Ah," Hughes nodded sagely, "found the magic spot."

"Magic," Roy groaned, letting his head thud against the table. "Just say where and I'll avoid it like the plague."

"Wish I could," Hughes commiserated. "But she won't tell me either."

A pregnant woman, they discovered far too late, sometimes made for a demanding lover that soon enough they played rock paper scissors to decide who was on duty that night. Roy protested vehemently that her being Hughes' wife should have made him the lucky sap by default, but Gracia's stamina left no room for argument. In their spare time, regardless of how little energy they had, Roy helped Hughes make up the nursery right down to going through three cribs because their combined effort had destroyed the first two. Work had already begun to become more intensive and Roy eventually returned to his little house to concentrate on that while the new parents awaited their firstborn.

"A miracle," Riza echoed. She got up and went to the kitchen counter to pour herself some more hot water and returned with a new tea bag steeping in her cup. Adding sugar, she stirred the liquid, watching it darken by slow degrees. "Elysia..." Riza cleared her throat and faced Roy. "She's your daughter."

"Yes," Gracia answered as she crossed the living room and took her former seat. Riza realized how the small table with only three chairs fit perfectly in the dining room. Another year and they would have had to buy a new table when Elysia's toddler seat was too small,- if Hughes hadn't-- "It's already becoming apparent to us, but people have a way of being blind to things sometimes. They'll find her chin to be Maes' genes, or perhaps her hair because it's already started to darken."

A look passed between Gracia and Roy and he got up a second later. Taking her cup, he went to pour her hot water and get a cup for himself. Riza watched in fascination at the silent communication that had always been there. Not just between Hughes and Roy, but between the three of them. How easy it was to be blind, she thought in wonder.

"I started to tell you," Gracia apologized after taking a sip, "about the day my husband died." Riza nodded silently and Gracia continued.

"We've had our share of miracles, and we felt at last that our lives were complete. Elysia was strong and healthy. Maes' job was getting to be more intensive, but he was always a good provider. Roy was busy with his work and we'd discovered more new friends in such a short time that our lives were quite full. Exhaustingly so, at times, but fulfilling." With a look at Roy, Gracia smiled. "And surprising, perhaps, but most surprises aren't unwelcome."

The math came out correctly no matter how many times Gracia went over the figures that she had called Maes to come home immediately. Roy hadn't been back for a couple of months, and she would have called him, but a trip to see him would take care of that, she thought delightedly. Predictably, Maes had stopped off somewhere to bring back a stuffed animal for Elysia and it made him an hour later than he'd said. On the verge of exploding, she'd dragged him into the living room and shoved him on the couch. His surprise was obvious, but he didn't argue while she maneuvered him into a position where she could lay over his body and attack him with kisses. He held her steady and returned them eagerly, though his puzzlement made his kisses less ardent than usual.

"Maes Hughes," she rumbled against his chin. His eyebrows went up and he wisely kept quiet as she tried to get out what she needed to say. "I love you so much." Tucking her legs on either side of his, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Her lips touched the lobe of his ear and she whispered against it. "I'm pregnant." Her grip tightened as Maes sat up despite her weight on top of him. She was prepared for him to stand with her stuck to his front, but he managed to restrain himself and clung to her instead.

"--sure? Are you sure?" he stuttered. She could hear his breath wanting to be words that couldn't quite form. Laughing, she pulled away and nodded vigorously. "When? How long?" he managed.

"A few weeks," she answered and kissed him long and hard. "I found out this morning."

"Wait a minute," Maes sounded puzzled. "A few weeks--"

"A few weeks," she confirmed with a smile.

She could not recall a time when she'd seen her husband weep, even after their first attempts had failed and she'd shed her share of tears. Sitting on his lap, she held him as he wept. Stroking his hair, she murmured against his shoulder until he calmed down enough to laugh.

"My baby," he beamed with pride. "We gotta tell Roy."

"Soon," she replied, leaning down for a proper kiss. "There's plenty of time."

------------------------

"Little Maes?" Riza inquired. At least she could smile at the woman's good fortune while the rest of her mind wanted to be blank.

"Yes, Maes," Gracia smiled. "The day my husband died we were finally going to be inviting a number of people over to celebrate the good news - all of us as a family together with our friends. As it was, the news had to wait till a few weeks after his death, and, well... Roy and I didn't think the time was appropriate to divulge the rest of the news we had originally wanted." Nearly three years hadn't softened Gracia's grief and it was Riza's turn to touch the woman's hand.

"He's still missed greatly."

"Yes," Gracia agreed. "He is." Using her free hand to take a drink of her tea, she managed a smile.

"This is why Roy brought me here tonight."

Roy touched Riza's free hand and caught her attention. "This family is my life. These children are mine, too. They'll always be part of my life."

In the little table with its three chairs, Riza could sense Maes Hughes' presence somewhere between them. Loving Roy meant a package deal of a family she would be entering into, not just the man trying not to hold her hand too tightly. She wondered how they had managed to become a cohesive unit, a strong bond that survived the loss of one, and wondered if she could manage to become part of it.

"You both went through this," Riza whispered. Her tea was cold by the time she took another drink of it, but the drink was what she needed to speak. "When little Maes was born," she looked up at Gracia and smiled. "Roy held him and said the poor thing already looked like Hughes. He was so proud, though and I remember wishing I could make him that proud someday. That I could receive the same tenderness he showed you when he handed the baby back - lucky parents. I was so blind."

Gracia shook her head, but quieted when Riza raised her hand.

"There's a story I don't fully know yet." She turned to Roy. "But it's one I think I want to hear from the beginning."

As though on cue, Maes began crying in Gracia's bedroom and she excused herself. Roy took a deep breath and began the tale.

"I met Maes Hughes the first year I was at the academy. For a long time, it was books and homework, but then came Saturday night..."

*just because it comes from the mind of a wacko, doesn't necessarily mean it's insane*
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On a Saturday Night