So last night, I was trying to go to sleep and my iPod was on shuffle. Me and Mrs. Jones (Michael Buble's version) came on. I had been wanting to write a fic for that song for Hetalia for a long time now, but I can't find a good plot. I had to get up and turn the lights back on because the song I got the title of this story from popped into my head and it was born.

This more follows how the series ends. Fem!Ed and Roy (who am I writing as blind) have a chance reunion sometime after… I lost my train of thought. Oh well.


Roy Mustang was making his way down a less than busy street. He was alone but had a cane to guide him. The sweet smell of baking pastries and coffee caught his attention. He remembered hearing about a café that had just opened recently. He made his way inside out of curiosity. A familiar voice was complaining about her coffee not being strong enough. "F…" he began but stopped himself. She no longer had that name. "Edwarda?"

She gasped, turning around. "Mustang?" He could hear her run over to him. "Can you…?"

He searched for her hands, finally catching them when she touched his face. "No," he said softly, knowing what she meant. "I'm still blind."

"Oh…" the pain in her voice was obvious. "Can you stay long?"

"I can stay as long as you like." His grip on her hands tightened as she led him to her table. "Edwarda, what's on your finger…"

He sat down. She wriggled her hands free. "I need to get my coffee…"

Once she had returned and set the coffee down, he grabbed the offending hand and played with the object until it was identified. "Is this a wedding ring?" He held it in her face. She choked. "Edwarda…"

"Yes," she whispered. "It is."

"Congratulations."

"I don't love him, Mustang." He almost missed it due to how low her voice was. The hand he held the wrist of clenched into a fist. He pried it loose and wrapped his hand around her smaller one. "To tell the truth, I hate him. I just had no choice." She was crying.

His free hand went to her face. He ran it over her chin. "You've had acne problems recently. You shouldn't pop them, it leaves scars. I can feel some already." He slid his hand down to her throat. She hissed as he ran over a strange feeling spot. He rubbed his thumb over it, trying to figure out what it was. It felt like a scab in a crescent moon shape. His nail accidently nicked the skin. She gave a strangled cry, shaking under his hand. He knew she was afraid and then it hit him. "You husband did this to you."

"I tried to fight back but he overpowered me."

"Is he in town?"

"No, I…"

"You ran away."

"Yes."

"Did you take his last name?"

"Yeah, it's Jones."

"That last name is too common," he growled. "We've got to keep you away from him."

"I…"

"Don't say it, Edwarda! You don't have to go back there. It's domestic abuse. You know it. I know it." She sighed. "What would you rather me do? Sit here knowing but do nothing? I can't, Edwarda. He's hurt you at least once and he'll do it again."


Don't hate me!