Conversations over Coffee
ObsessiveDevil23
Chapter 1
Roy Mustang's life was going fairly okay until a terrorist organisation decided to single him out as a potential target and threatened his existence.
It had been six years since the Promised Day and although he had spent some weeks completely blind, he had also been healed by Dr Marcoh's philosophers stone pretty quickly and without much protest from the part of his brain that still had morals. He had been declared a medical miracle, as quite a few people had in those few weeks, and been sent on his way. Since then he'd been promoted to Major-General, which meant he no longer had to answer to Hakuro - always a win - and although he spent on average twelve hours a day, from eight AM to eight PM, in the office – he also spent a good portion of his time wining and dining flavours of the week and getting his rocks off, so who was he to complain?
Breda, Fuery and Fallman were still under his command, which was at least half of his team, so he congratulated himself on that. Hawkeye had transferred to work directly under her grandfather, Fuhrer Grumman, but she was still working behind the scenes for Roy – and was there the moment Grumman decided to hang up the title to push Roy's name into the fray of those wishing to take over the role. She was a Captain now, and they met up every Tuesday after work to commiserate their weeks and share a bottle of wine. Havoc had been healed by Marcoh as well, also declared a medical miracle, and sent on his way. He'd been released from duty and Roy had not wanted to push the man back into service, but Havoc had re-enlisted despite that. He was working as an assistant to investigations now, alongside Sheska, and the two of them were invaluable in keeping Roy's more questionable plots on the down-low. He and Breda were still very close and Roy got most of his updates on the chain-smoker from him, but he also made a point of getting to the pub with his men if he knew Havoc was going to be there.
His two elsewhere colleagues had been replaced by capable officers, so Roy could hardly complain too much about that either. One was a 1st Lieutenant; a gingery haired gentleman with a bushy moustache called Weir, who generally kept to himself unless asked about his extensive postcard collection. He was a kindly man in his forties who knew basic alchemy and had confessed to once trying for State Alchemy certification and failing. Roy had comforted him, because after all State Alchemists were the best of the best, and as far as Roy was concerned the Lieutenant did show some talent, and ever since, Weir had regarded Roy with something akin to hero-worship, unless called out on it by his office-mates. The other new addition was a young Warrant Officer by the name of Gyasi, who had set the whole office into a frenzy the day she arrived because of her looks. She was in her early thirties, with dark skin, naturally pouting lips, a curvaceous figure and all the confidence of a woman who knew she was a bombshell. The men had been beside themselves, to the point where Roy had needed to remind everyone (including himself) about fraternization laws. Then, two months into her working for the office, Gyasi had blown them all out of the water at quarterly drills, leaving the rest of the office behind in her dust, and most of the men had realised they had a new Hawkeye on their hands, and Gyasi was clearly not to be messed with.
The most notable absence in the office in the six years gone – although Roy would probably never admit it out loud – was that of Edward Elric. Since the Promised Day, and Ed sacrificing his Gate to regain Alphonse's body, the blonde had barely been in Central for more than a few days at a time, as far as Roy knew. The last time Roy had been in the same room as Edward was six years previously, a week after the final battle, when Roy had been in hospital without his vision. Edward had tendered his resignation, and briefly explained he was retiring to Risembool for some rest and recuperation. Roy had heard through the grape-vine that Alphonse had travelled to Xing to study Alkahestry alongside Mei Chang, and that Edward had joined him out there for a few months, before returning to the East to marry his mechanic, and the two of them had produced two little Fullmetal babies – the whole family living in a hectic kind of peace in Rush Valley.
Roy had heard the news of the first Fullmetal babe, a boy, through Fuery, who apparently kept in touch with Edward better than anyone else in the team did. Roy had pursed his lips at the news and offered a considered congratulations to be passed along to the blonde ex-alchemist, whilst inwardly considering that Edward had sired his first child at the tender age of nineteen, whilst he himself was in his thirties and still slutting it up in the city. When news turned up a year and half later, again through Fuery, that Winry was has given birth again, he'd sighed and nodded and got himself back to his paperwork because by that point he hadn't seen Fullmetal in nearly four years and he didn't think Ed would care all that much for his well-wishing anyway.
There had been times when Roy had heard that Edward was in town, but by the time that news got to him, the boy (man, now) was usually out of town again, heading back to his wife and children.
Which was why it came as a rather large surprise when he walked into Grumman's office on an official summons to see Edward Elric standing to one side of the Fuhrer's desk, looking for all the world like he would rather be anywhere else but Central Military HQ. The look was so reminiscent of the boy's teens, that Roy almost called him to attention out of force of habit.
"Ah, General Mustang, come in!" Grumman implored from behind his desk, waving a withered hand in a friendly gesture that beckoned Roy forward.
The dark haired man closed the door behind him and stepped cautiously into the room, knowing he had to greet the Fuhrer, but also entirely unable to take his eyes off of his ex-subordinate. It may have been six years since he had laid eyes on the man, but he would know him anywhere just from the spun-gold of his hair and the molten gold in his eyes. Xerxian features you wouldn't find on anyone else, save for a glint of it in Alphonse and possibly in the man's children, but Roy had never met them, so he wouldn't know. Edward had pulled his hair back into a tight, high pony-tail that showed off the strength of his neck and shoulders, and the stark black, curled wire of an earpiece that stretched down his right side and disappeared under a dark muscle t-shirt. Roy noticed, too, the tight leather trousers, the kind Edward was so fond of when he was a teenager, and the chunky walkie-talkie style receiver attached to his brown belt, but that the boy had forgone his juvenile red coat, and that his arms were crossed across his chest, accentuating just how insanely ripped he was. Roy could pinpoint the definitions between his triceps, biceps and deltoids, and it only served to make him feel incredibly self-conscious about his own 'desk-job' figure. In the moments of time when he had spared a thought to Fullmetal, raising two children in the country-side, he had made himself feel better by imagining Edward letting himself go; perhaps developing a beer-belly, or at the very least not working out as much. He should have known better – Edward had always been of the belief that a healthy body lead to a healthy mind, and nothing was more important to Edward than his mind.
Sloppily, and incredibly late, Roy saluted the Fuhrer.
"Sir." He mumbled.
There was a lot you could get away with when the Fuhrer was a close, personal friend; especially when that friend wanted you to marry his granddaughter. Grumman waved him into a chair now, and he sat, feeling awkward because Ed was still standing, and shooting the blonde confused, calculated looks that the Fuhrer either did not pick up on or chose to ignore.
"Now, my dear boy," Grumman began, despite the fact that Roy was thirty-seven now, and had not been a boy since before Ishval. "We've received some intelligence that certain members of the Military higher ups are being targeted by a protest group calling themselves Truth's Promised Mercenaries."
Roy instantly hated the name, but he was not surprised – every six months or so a new terrorist organisation calling themselves do-gooders rose off the back of the Promised Day, believing that those prominent figures involved were those that orchestrated the destruction and pain that day had brought to so many. It had been the same after Ishval. They weren't exactly people to be reasoned with, but invariably they were crushed or disbanded by the military before anything major happened – Roy was generally only aware of them because of his connection to investigations, and it was odd for any of these groups to kick up such a fuss that the Fuhrer himself would get involved. Mustang let himself another furtive glance towards Edward, wondering if that was why the boy was there, in Central, in the Fuhrer's office, and not at home with his wife and kids. The general public knew just enough about the Promised Day that they usually thought Edward, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and hero of the people, had single-handedly saved the world, against the tirade of the Corrupt Amestrian Military – and the fact that Edward had quit service not long after had only fuelled those rumours. The thing was, the military was corrupt, and Edward had saved the world, and the truth in the stories gave the tall-tales that came along with it too much standing.
Either way, as far as Roy knew, Edward had never been a target before, generally regarded as a hero more than the corrupt bastards the rest of them had been labelled as.
"This group is a sneaky sort, and unfortunately the threats that have been made include one on your life, General." The Fuhrer continued, disregarding Roy's attempts to figure out why his ex subordinate was standing among them after a six year absence. "As such, we've thought it necessary to get you a protection detail for the time being."
Roy looked back to the leader of their country. Protection details, too, he was familiar with. Usually his protection detail was made up of Riza Hawkeye, the most talented sharp-shooter he knew, and a few assorted men who had sworn their allegiance. As such, he nodded.
"I don't suppose Captain Hawkeye is available for the task." He replied.
Grumman smiled at him across the desk, and it was a toothy smile that showed off the yellow stains from the man's bad habit of smoking a pipe.
"My dear granddaughter has been threatened as well, and as such has her own protection detail, though everyone knows she wont need it." He explained. Roy smirked, because the idea of Riza with a bodyguard was laughable, and the woman would probably hate every second of it. "In any case, having two targets spending too much time together has been ill-advised by our contracted protection agency."
At this Grumman finally glanced over to the blonde standing by his desk, and Roy followed his gaze, everything slowly slotting into place like a jigsaw puzzle, but then coming up looking like a Picasso instead of the Monet he had been expecting.
"Oh." He said, staring at Edward now, who was surveying Roy with a sort of cool indifference he had never managed in his teens. "Um… what?" Mustang added, feeling incredibly incompetent and not liking it at all.
The blonde smirked, and Roy felt the bottom of his stomach fall three inches. This wasn't good. This wasn't good one bit.
"Fullmet – I mean, Mr Elric has been assigned as your personal protection agent." Grumman was explaining, and although Roy heard the words, he wasn't entirely sure he was processing them correctly. "He works for VGA Protection Firm now, isn't that a coincidence? They regard him as one of their best agents and Mr Gregory himself recommended him to the job."
Roy had heard of Vincent Gregory and his Amestrian Protection Firm – the were massive for celebrity bodyguards; politicians and composers and royalty alike used them. Vincent Gregory demanded nothing but the best from his workers, and each and every bodyguard would lay down their life for a client should the situation need it.
"So, you're a bodyguard now?" He asked, trying not to drown in the boys molten eyes as the young man stared him down.
He felt odd, to be sat below Edward, when the other man was standing, and so he quickly stood. Then he felt awkward for making such an obvious attempt to put them both on equal ground. Apparently, six years of no contact with Fullmetal had him rather out of a loop when it came to communicating with the twenty-something.
"Yep." Edward responded, popping the 'p'. Roy swallowed.
He wanted to protest – he would much rather have Riza, who could shoot a squirrel from thirty feet whilst blind-folded, than Edward Elric, who nobody could deny was an alchemical genius, but who no longer had his alchemy and had until that moment existed in Roy's mind as a house-husband. Yet, it would be rude to turn the boy down, and the Fuhrer himself had summoned him here and set the meeting up, and so he could hardly say no.
"Right. Well." He said, hating that he was lacking in his usual confidence. "Good to have you on board, I guess."
Edward nodded at that, and Roy reflected how little the man had said since he had arrived in the office. Edward in his teenage years hadn't known when to shut up – rambling on for ages about things of very little importance, or going off on rants about his height, should somebody inadvertently, or oft-times very purposefully, mention it. This man stood in front of Roy was of stark contrast. The blonde nodded to the Fuhrer and then crossed the room to where a coat stand was placed behind the door, taking down a muted brown trench and then a soft looking leather holster, in which were secured two military issue revolvers.
Roy watched, entirely dumbfounded, as Edward secured the holster under his arms like he had done this a thousand times before, and placed the coat over it so that the pistols were no longer in sight, and then turned to Roy with a questioning look.
"Everything okay, General?" He asked, such a visage of professionalism and maturity that Roy wondered whether he was somehow experiencing a mirage. He swallowed thickly and nodded, pushing his way out of the door past his ex subordinate and waving over his shoulder to the Fuhrer belatedly, once more glad he was able to play favourites with the leader of the country.
"How long have you been working for Gregory?" Roy asked as he walked the corridors, Ed striding along beside him, eyes flicking left and right as he looked about for what Roy presumed were potential threats.
"Three years." The young man replied, although he didn't offer any more information.
Roy found himself doing the maths in his head. Ed's oldest child was probably about three – chances are Edward had taken over the role as bread winner when his wife fell pregnant with their spawn. He imagined working a dangerous job like personal protection had not gone over too well with Winry, and he wondered whether Edward lamented the long working hours and travel keeping him away from his family.
"How did you get into it?" Roy found himself asking, even as he berated himself in his head. He had never been one to ask so many personal questions, and he had to wonder whether Edward found his questioning annoying. He had never exactly shown much of a personal interest during the boys teenage years, and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't entirely sure why he was interested now.
Ed glanced at him, and then went back to assessing threats as they continued towards Roy's own office.
"Ling had used them a few times before." He explained. "A personal letter of recommendation from the Emperor of Xing generally gets you anything you want."
Roy had done some work with the Xingese Emperor in the last six years – establishing trade routes and the sharing of information across countries – but never once had Edward's name come up. Roy reminded himself that it wouldn't; he had been in contact with Ling because of business, whereas Ling's relationship with Edward was a friendship.
He nodded again, going to open the door to his office, but Ed beat him to it, raising an arched eyebrow at the dark haired man, and putting an arm out in front of him. He gently used that arm to push Roy back a couple of paces, and then opened the plain wooden door himself, peering inside, before deeming it safe and letting go of Roy, and allowing the man to follow him through.
Roy thought the whole process a little over dramatic, but said nothing, because at that moment Breda had spotted the blonde head of hair and shouted excitedly.
"Edward fucking Elric!"
For the first time since Roy had laid eyes on him that day, Edward showed something on his face that wasn't a careful indifference or cool contempt. His eyes went slightly wide and his lips thinned as Breda bounded over his desk to envelope the blonde in a tight hug.
"What the shit are you doing here, Elric?" He asked, letting Ed go just enough for the man to answer his question.
During that time Fuery and Fallman had stood as well, both of them with expressions on their faces mixed between shock and giddy excitement. Fuery had broken into a wide grin at the sight, and Roy reminded himself once more that the two youngest members of his team from six years ago had apparently kept in touch. Gyasi glanced up from her paperwork, shot Breda a slightly annoyed look, and got back to work. Weir was surveying the scene with a look of mild panic, interspersed with delight, and Roy reminded himself that Weir was an aspiring Alchemist, and Edward was the most accomplished alchemist of their time, even with no longer being able to perform it himself.
"He's here as a personal protection agent." Roy explained, because Edward had hardly said three words together that whole time, and the blonde was looking like he might be crushed to death be Breda quite soon. "Apparently there's been a threat and Edward works for the firm the military uses for bodyguards."
There was a short, fairly stunned silence at the explanation which made Roy feel slightly better for his reaction back in the Fuhrer's office, and then Breda finally let go of the blonde and Fallman gave a serene smile, striding across the room and clapping their old work colleague on the back.
"It's very good to see you again, Edward." He admitted.
Edward rubbed the back of his neck and smiled back.
"Yeah, you too. All of you." He replied. It was followed by another small silence that made Roy clear his throat noisily.
"Yes, well," He said, because he was stalling for something to say now that he had everyone's attention by coughing so dramatically. "I didn't think I'd have you working for me again, at any rate!" He finally settled on, hoping some humour might break some of the tension he had been feeling since he had arrived at Grumman's office, and indeed how tense he always felt whenever anyone mentioned Fullmetal around him for the last six years.
And the thing was, he hadn't expected anybody to actually laugh at his lame attempt at lightening the mood, because it hadn't really been at all funny – but what he definitely didn't expect was for Ed to tense so much that it was visual (the tautness of his shoulders, the narrowing of his eyes and then the slight shift in how he held himself) and to stalk across the room so fast Roy didn't couldn't even understand what was happening until the blonde ex-alchemist had crowded him against the wall of his own office, in front of all of his men, and was leaning so close to his face that Roy could smell coffee straining through mint toothpaste from the young man's breath. Roy was pinned to the wall by one of Ed's overly muscled arms splayed across his chest, and the General couldn't help looking down at where he had been secured so effectively, gulping uneasily.
"Let's get one thing clear, Mustang. I don't work for you. I work for VGA Protection Firm, and their client is the Amestrian Military." He seethed, words coming out an angry whisper. "You are just the principal; the equivalent of my pay-check."
With that, Ed pushed away from Roy again and went to stand by the doorway to the office, in the correct space to see anyone coming through before anyone on the outside could see the occupants of the room, and still have eyes on Roy, who would be spending the next few hours at his desk. Roy collected himself, smoothing down his uniform and looking at that so that he didn't have to look at the other men in the office, and gingerly made his way over to his paperwork. He ignored the shocked looks he was receiving from his men, and tried not to let it get to him that he had just been so easily overpowered by the twenty-something. He rationalised that he had been taken by surprise, that had Ed given him fair warning of a temper tantrum, as he had done when he was a child (the way his body would tense for at least ten minutes before as he tried desperately to reign his own emotions in, before it finally spilled free in shouted swear words and flailing limbs) then there was no way in hell that situation would have happened. He bought out a particularly tedious report on the level of General presence around HQ, and pretended to read it whilst his mind reeled around what had just happened.
He had known, of course, that Ed's time under the military had always been a means to an end. The boy had made no secret of it when he was twelve – explaining loudly to anyone that he hated the military, Roy Mustang and anyone else who was a pompous bastard, as had been Ed's favoured phrase at the time. Yet, it was still difficult now to see how much Edward clearly despised him. Roy had always thought that under the swearing and temper tantrums Ed might have had a begrudging respect for him; but a six year absence and now this latest outburst over the mere idea of Ed working for Mustang once more, had really drilled home how little the blonde thought of him.
The man checked his desktop calendar, sighing internally in relief that it was Tuesday; at least in a few hours he could steal across to Riza's flat and the two of them could gossip and plan about these new threats, this new group, and everything else that had happened, whilst drowning their sorrows in a bottle of wine.
By the time six o'clock rolled around, Roy was well and truly ready to call it a day. He would usually stay a couple of hours more; putting in the hours nobody else would in order to secure the next promotion, but he had made a sizeable chunk in his paperwork and he was desperate to meet up with Riza and moan about the day's developments. He looked up as Breda and Fallman began packing up their desks, and then carefully stood, pulling on the coat that had been hung over the back of his chair.
Edward had been stood in the same spot for coming up three hours, and had barely moved a muscle – easily falling into a military at ease position and holding it. At one point Fuery had gone over to try and make conversation, and Edward had obliged in a low voice, answering questioned posed, but had maintained a careful eye on the office and the corridor the entire time. Roy had caught a few words of the conversation; mainly that Edward was okay; that he was set up in Central; and that he had expertly orchestrated moving the conversation on when Fuery mentioned Winry's name, whilst he considered how completely immobile Fullmetal was. Roy would have been fidgeting like a child after twenty minutes, but the blonde had made it seem as if he was a statue, made of stone and unmovable. It was so incredibly far gone from the memory Roy had of Ed as a teenager, who couldn't keep still for more than five minutes at a time unless he was engrossed in a book, that the General was beginning to wonder whether this truly was Edward at all.
"Principal on the move." Roy heard the blonde say, and he glanced up towards the golden-eyed boy, who had collected his walkie-talkie from his belt and was talking into it quietly, and for the first time Roy realised that Edward was part of a larger protection detail, and was only one of a team of professionals. The other members of that team would stay out of sight, so that even Roy didn't know who and where they were, and the entire situation suddenly became much less about Edward Elric and the history between them, and much more about the fact that there had been a threat on Roy's life, and a professional close protection detail had been ordered to keep him safe.
He nodded to the blonde, and Edward moved past him, out into the hall, allowing Roy to follow by his side, which made him feel slightly better that trailing along after his ex-subordinate.
"I just need to drop off these papers with General Guttering, and then I'll be heading over to Hawkeye's place." He explained as he walked, feeling awkward to explain himself to the blonde. It was something he had never had to do before. Guttering's office was on the floor below, and because it was the end of the day he was hoping he wouldn't get caught by the man, who tended to speak at length about the problems with Central's road systems if he was in a bad mood, and was generally in a bad mood when he was in Roy's company. He watched Ed for a moment as they walked and noticed a slight tension in his shoulders at the mention of Guttering, who had always been known as a bit of a hard-ass.
"Requesting recon on Captain Riza Hawkeye's apartment." Ed said into his walkie-talkie, and said nothing to Roy. The General kept walking, listening to the static filling into his bodyguard's communication wire, and daydreaming about what the other people on the team were like. He wondered if Ed had a good relationship with them, or whether they thought, like Roy had done when he had worked with Fullmetal, that Edward was, at best, a brilliant hurricane, and at worse a dangerous bargaining chip, should he fall into enemy hands. After a moment Ed hummed gently and replied into his receiver; "Okay, ETA twenty minutes."
By this point Roy had come to the outside of Guttering's office, and had his hand raised to knock, but he stalled. It would probably take five minutes to wrap up his conversation with Guttering and make his way out of Central Command, a few minutes more if Guttering was feeling chatty. Edward would know that, not just from his time as a soldier there, but also because the man was clearly an accomplished agent who had done his research. He had clearly just been given details on Riza's apartment, where it was in the city and more, and would know that it was at least a forty minute walk, but had given an expected time of arrival in twenty minutes. Which meant clearly he expected a car.
"I usually walk." He clarified, because although he could get a car, he often found it an abuse of his station, and he tried to get a little bit of exercise into his day, because otherwise he would easily fall into the trap of a desk-job weight gain. Edward frowned at him.
"I'll drive you." He muttered, as if the conversation was over, and Roy opened his mouth to say more, because he wanted to know just when Fullmetal had learnt to drive, and the conversation was clearly not over just because Ed had spoken, but at that moment Guttering's door flew open and the General himself strode out. He stopped, looking at Roy and Edward for a moment, and then clicked his tongue it what was clearly a tut.
"Don't loiter, Mustang." He said, tone rude despite the fact that he and Roy were the same rank and Roy was delivering papers to him out of courtesy. Roy often found Guttering to be rude, however – probably due to the fact that Roy was a Major-General at thirty-seven, and Guttering had made the same title at fifty-three.
"I apologise." Roy replied, faking a smile, ever the picture of sincerity and professionalism. "I only came to deliver these." He added, pushing the files into the other General's hands. Guttering looked down at them with barely concealed contempt, but on finding them to actually be useful, he huffed and nodded, turning back into his office to place them in a filing cabinet for looking over the next day.
"If that will be all." He said as he did this, and Roy quickly nodded.
"I must be on my way." He excused, because it felt a lot better than saying 'yes, that's all'. He turned on his heel and was going to start walking down the corridor when Guttering called after them;
"Wait, is that the Fullmetal Alchemist with you?"
Roy stopped, turned back, and chanced a glance at Edward, who was checking his watch, possibly thinking he would have to update his estimate to his team.
"He doesn't answer to that any more." Roy answered for him, trying to cover Ed's lack of response. Ed had always been borderline impertinent, and since his arrival back in Roy's life a few hours previously, he had been walking that line like a tight-rope artist. "Retired from service a few years back."
Guttering followed them up the corridor and stood in front of them, and Edward looked up from his watch and squared up, catching eye contact with the Major-General and glaring slightly. Guttering was a good seven inches taller than Roy, putting him squarely at six foot three, and Roy wanted to say taller still than Ed, but in truth there was only an inch or two between himself and Fullmetal now. Guttering had the height, but Ed had the physique, putting both General's in the corridor to shame.
"Well, well, well..." Guttering said, bending down slightly in a move that Roy was sure would infuriate the ex-alchemist, and peering at Ed as if he were a piece of meat, which made Roy's skin crawl to witness. Roy hoped his new bodyguard wasn't about to cause a scene, and then the General turned to Roy and smirked. "Thought you'd be done with this one, once he turned eighteen."
Roy frowned at the comment, not understanding it at all, and hoping to get some clarification about what his colleague meant, but then Edward huffed and rolled his eyes.
"That's not what this is." He said, then turned on his heel and beckoned for Roy to follow him. "Get a move on, Mustang."
Roy almost fell over himself trying to turn and catch up with Ed, waving a goodbye over his shoulder to Guttering, because professional courtesy demanded it, and feeling slightly lost and confused about what the other General had been talking about. He could hear the other man chuckling darkly as they made their way down the corridor, but Roy only asked about it once they had gone down two flights of stairs in silence and were making their way down a third flight which lead to the underground car-park.
"What did Guttering mean by being done with you?" He tried, wondering whether Ed might snap at him for asking questions. The atmosphere between them had been tense all day, but Roy was loathe to admit he was anxious around the younger man.
Ed only spared him a slightly surprised glance, and then seemed to steel his resolve at Roy's perceived innocence, and minutely shook his head.
"It's nothing to concern yourself with." He replied, which didn't leave much room for Roy to push further.
The two of them came to a sleek-black saloon car with blacked out rear windows and rather thick tires, and Edward produced a key from his pocket, unlocked it, and held open the back door for Roy. Roy only stared at him for a moment, which made Edward give a slightly aggravated huff and check his watch again, so Roy shifted himself into the back seat and tried not to wince as Ed slammed the door behind him. Two seconds later the blonde was settled behind the wheel, and checking his wing-mirrors.
"When did you learn to drive?" Mustang asked, which was a personal question, but this one he felt was justified because Ed was about to be driving him, and so his safety was a concern. Ed's golden eyes glanced at him through the rear-view mirror, and then moved back out the front windscreen as he started up the engine.
"Three years ago." Was all he replied with, and Roy reminded himself that three years ago Edward had supposedly quit research, which didn't pay well, and taken up a personal protection job, which would most likely require him to drive. He couldn't help but wonder if Edward was happy with that situation.
They turned out of the car park and started heading south, and then Ed turned off suddenly and started making his way towards the Olsen tunnel.
"This is the wrong way." Roy supplied.
"This is the safer way."
Roy glanced longingly out of the window back the way of Riza's flat. They were so blacked out it made the city outside seem much darker than it was.
"The traffic will be terrible." He mumbled, but Ed sighed.
"I'll double back round by the river and cut through Little Xing." He explained, and Roy glanced at him through the gaps in the seats, seeing the sway of the man's ponytail and the twitch in his neck when he swallowed.
He had known, to some degree, that Edward knew Central quite well – the blonde had spent a good amount of time when he was under Military service running through the slums and exploring the bones of the city – but he had suspected that six years away would have dampened the man's memories and knowledge of the layout. Evidently, Ed was as sharp as ever. He nodded, swallowing thickly, and didn't say anything more, content to let Ed drive him the way the agent thought best, until they arrived at an apartment block ten minutes later – roughly on par with Ed's estimated arrival of twenty minutes he had given to his team back at HQ.
"We've arrived." The blonde said into his walkie-talkie, and Roy found himself looking around for the other members of the team. They were obviously about, but he himself had no idea where. He opened the car door, and within seconds Ed was there, holding it open and looking annoyed that Roy had opened it on his own, without permission. His golden eyes were furiously scanning the area, and he quietly mumbled to Roy as the General exited the car. "Quickly, into the building."
Roy was beginning to wonder just how serious this threat was – or whether Fullmetal was just as over-dramatic as he had been during his teenage years. Nevertheless he obediently sped up and crossed the little pavement to Riza's apartment building whilst Ed locked up the car and followed him over. He pressed the intercom button and waited, listening to the dial, and then there was a distinct beep as the door was automatically unlocked.
Ed put a hand on his back and guided him inside. It took Roy a moment to catch up that he shouldn't be okay with that kind of behaviour, but by the time he thought to say anything Ed's hand was innocently back by his side and the door had swung closed behind him. Instead of pulling the young man up on inappropriate guiding, Roy chose not to say anything, and took the stairs up to Riza's flat two at a time, making the bodyguard do the same. Of course, it was no issue for Ed – who clearly kept up a strict exercise regime.
"Hi." Riza greeted as they made it to her door. She had opened it and stepped into the hallway to greet him, and when she saw Edward her eyes grew wide and her face broke into a large grin. "Edward!"
Ed, for his part, dropped his professionalism for a moment, and smiled back – seemingly genuinely happy for the first time that day. He stepped around Roy and then seemed to stop and falter, before Riza stepped forward and dragged him into an embrace. He was taller than she was now, and for the first time Roy was able to appreciate that he had clearly, actually grown – he was no longer the pipsqueak alchemist he had been at twelve, and at some point, probably slowly and naturally, the way most people did it, he had grown into those ridiculous muscles. Then Ed broke the hug and coughed, trying to bring back some of that professionalism he had been displaying all day. He took a brief glance into the apartment, and nodded to whoever was inside. Roy remembered Grumman telling him Riza had her own protection detail, and figured that the person assigned to his favourite Captain was probably somebody Ed knew through work.
"Teller." Ed greeted, confirming Roy's suspicions, and then the blonde waved Roy in, and the General made his way into his friends flat, followed by Riza and Ed.
Riza's flat was an open plan, one bedroom, no nonsense kind of place. She'd had a studio when she'd been a Lieutenant, but over the years she'd felt she wanted to be a little closer to work, and also have a little more space should she decide to have friends over. There was a door on the left hand wall which lead to the bedroom, and next to that a door leading to a small bathroom, but the kitchen, dining space and living space were all connected. Coming through the front door you came in directly to the living space, and then behind two plush armchairs there was a half wall that lead on to a kitchen dining area. In this dining area, looking awkward, was the man that must have been 'Teller'. He was a tall guy who, like Edward, clearly worked out. He had somewhat unruly curls on his head in a brassy brown colour, and a thick moustache. Unlike Edward, he was wearing a formal suit that was clearly not fitted to him, because his sleeves were bulging with the girth of his muscles and he looked a little uncomfortable in it. Roy exchanged a look with Hawkeye and frowned slightly, and she responded by raising both her eyebrows for a second and grimacing. Roy smirked in response – he knew Riza would not get on with whoever was assigned to her.
"We'll just be over here, ma'am. Keeping an eye on things." Teller explained, motioning with his hand towards the window. Ed was doing a sweep of the flat, but it was a lazy sweep, because clearly Teller had been there for some time and Ed trusted the man's judgement. The blonde ex-alchemist went to the window, frowned out of it, and then nodded along to Teller's explanation and crossed his arms over his chest moodily, his feet falling to 'at ease'.
Roy crinkled his nose slightly, and followed Riza to the armchairs. He toed off his shoes and took off his coat and blue military jacket, leaving him in his socks, trousers, cavalry skirt and white shirt, and then sank into one of the armchairs whilst Riza slipped into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of red and two large wine glasses. He wanted to moan happily at the sight, but was intensely aware of the other people in the room.
"He calls you ma'am?" Roy asked quietly when Riza had poured him a glass and he'd curled his feet up into the chair to get comfortable. She sat on the other chair and nodded, before taking a sizeable gulp of the red liquid. Black Hayate, an old dog now, padded out of the kitchen and settled down by her feet, giving a little grumble of recognition in Roy's direction.
"I have asked him not to." She responded, patting the dogs head affectionately. Then she frowned at him. "Regardless, you're being tailed by Edward!"
Roy wanted to moan again, but this time it was out of annoyance.
"I know." He mumbled, "I didn't even know he..." He trailed off, wondering what he was going to finish that sentence with, because the truth was there was a lot of things he didn't know about Edward. He didn't know the man at all – six years of no contact meant they didn't know each other any more, if they ever really did at all. He huffed gently and sipped at his wine. "You seemed pretty friendly." He finally assessed.
Riza shrugged.
"We send letters, sometimes." She confessed, which Roy didn't know. "We were close when he was a State Alchemist."
Roy hadn't known that either. Not really. He had known that Riza had felt a motherly protectiveness towards the Elric brothers, and he had known that Ed and Al arriving in Central generally raised team morale. The team was close, as teams are – but Edward had always felt like a force outside of the team. He had spent more time out on assignment and searching for the philosopher's stone than he had ever spent in office, not too mention the fact that he had been far too young to carry on the every day lives of a Central soldier at HQ, so Roy had tried to shield him from that as much as he could. As such Roy had compartmentalised in his head for two aspects; his team, and then the Elrics.
He sipped more at his wine.
"So, Grumman tell you much about this group?"
Riza shook her head.
"Not much, just their name. Seems like your typical post Promised Day radicalising. Basic idea that things are black and white – the Military is evil, Edward Elric is the hero who fought against the corrupt government. Those key figures involved are still at large and need taking down before the country can mend itself. You, myself, Colonel Armstrong, and General Armstrong have all been named as targets."
"What about those involved not in the military?" Roy asked, thinking that although Edward and Alphonse were probably safe, given how most people viewed them as heroes, there were people such as Ling Yao, Emperor of Xing, who might also be targets.
"They seem fairly focused on those of us in active duty, but Grumman has sent out representatives to liaison with everyone involved in the battle." Riza explained.
"And what exactly have they threatened?" Roy pushed, because despite Riza saying she didn't know much, she evidently knew more than him. She frowned at him now, her lips angled downwards and her brow furrowed in thought, and sighed heartily, looking down at her glass but not taking a drink.
"That they will strike us down when we least expect it – to restore the order of righteousness, as is the will of Truth." She replied, and Roy got the impression she was quoting directly.
He thought back to the weeks he had been blind, although he didn't often try to do this, because it had been a terrifying and harrowing experience. He thought back to being forced to open the Gate and look into the endless knowledge and into the face of Truth, before his eyesight was ripped away from him.
"They clearly don't know Truth." He finally decided, and tipped some more wine down his throat. Riza snorted in a derisory way and hummed her agreement.
"Well, in any case, they won't win." She said, so matter of fact that there was no room for argument. Roy wouldn't have argued with her anyway, these kinds of groups never 'won', although they were perfectly capable of causing some serious damage. He glanced over at his bodyguard, standing perfectly still by the window, and looked back to Hawkeye, trying to convey to the Captain through silent communication how weird he was finding having Edward Elric shoved back into his life, in such a way that the blonde seemed to hold all the power.
Riza smirked at him, and somehow he knew she got it.
"We shouldn't keep them here too long." She said solemnly. "Teller was already having fits when I told him another target was coming round. Something about making it easier for the enemy to get us if we all stick together." She explained, and although she said it with a casual tone, Roy knew she understood the logic behind it.
Roy laughed nonetheless, desperate to lighten the mood, and took another sip of wine. Usually these sessions with Riza would start as a moan about work, and quickly trail off into gossip about co-workers or whatever they had read in the newspaper that morning. They could often spend hours dissecting news articles, or just playing 'marry, fuck, kill' with celebrities and prominent figures around HQ, whilst they downed wine and laughed at each other's bad jokes and equally bad in-game choices. The addition of two grumpy bodyguards put rather a damper on the entire evening.
"I'll just stay until I've finished my glass." He told her, and glanced over at Ed, who was still scanning the room for potential threats. "Though I'm in a room with two trained and armed bodyguards and the best sharp-shooter in Amestris – I'd like to see anyone try and strike me down now."
Riza smiled at him, then shrugged her shoulders and she slipped back into the armchair to get more comfortable. She was still in uniform as well, having clearly finished work before Roy, but not long before, and she took off her jacket to reveal her black turtle neck underneath, and undid the clasp in her hair, letting the locks fall down to her shoulders.
"MFK?" She suggested.
Roy winced at her words and sighed. He wanted to play, but he had to wonder how much Edward was listening in. He glanced at the bodyguard to show his worries, and Riza furrowed her brow, and then let it ease out again. She shrugged her shoulders in an impossibly small gesture, and Roy could see she wasn't worried about any possible consequences of her detail listening in on their favourite game. Not one to be outdone, he finally nodded his agreement.
"I get to go first though." He insisted. Riza grinned and nodded her assent. Roy thought for a moment, looking back over famous enough people that they would both know them by name. "Okay, Alexander Graham Bell; Charles Dickens; and J. R. R. Tolkien." He finally settled on.
"Dickens is already dead." Riza replied almost instantly. Roy frowned.
"Supposing he was still alive." He amended. Riza rose an eyebrow sceptically.
"He'd be a hundred and eight." She told him. Roy took a moment to wonder why she knew that off the top of her head, but rolled his eyes and pushed out his foot over the gap between their chairs to nudge her shin teasingly.
"Just answer the question!" He admonished.
Riza thought for a moment longer, and then smirked as she evidently came up with her answer.
"I would marry Dickens, because he is very old and likely to die and leave me a great amount of money." She explained savagely. "I would kill Bell, because I don't like the idea of him calling me all the time if I married or fucked him. And I'll fuck Tolkien, because he's young and good-looking." She was smiling at Roy triumphantly, and he shook his head at her, although honestly he agreed with her choices. Then her grin turned positively wicked and she said: "Okay, my turn."
Roy felt a small pool of dread settle in his stomach. Riza was known for being brutal in this game, and it didn't usually matter because they would only play it alone and they didn't speak of it outside the confines of each other's flats, but now they had two witnesses, and he was worried.
"I'm ready." He told her, but he didn't actually feel it. Riza smirked.
"Havoc, Edward and Teller." She spoke. Roy's eyes went wide and he glanced across to their company, but despite their names being spoken they didn't move an inch, or suggest they had heard her suggestions.
Roy gulped down some wine, and then got up to get a refill, despite telling Riza he would only stay for one glass. Once he was in the kitchen and pouring the liquid, he allowed himself to feel annoyed at his friend, and embarrassed about the question in front of Ed. He knew she was only teasing, and wouldn't stay mad at her for long, as this was such an incredibly Riza-like thing to do, but for a second he allowed himself to be pissed off, and he downed a large gulp of the liquid for courage.
"Why are they all men?" He asked as he came back into the room and flopped back down on the chair with his now full glass.
"Ask them." Riza replied with a laugh, and Roy sneered at her to let her know she wasn't funny. The Captain giggled. "Don't try and deny your bisexuality Roy, we've all known about it since you were nineteen!"
Once more Roy looked over in Edward's direction, but the man showed no signs of listening to their conversation. It wasn't as if Riza was outing him – she was right in that his friends had known that he would happily swing both ways since he was a teenager at the academy and had been caught sucking face with Chester Delaney who slept in the bunk next to him. The two boys had been clipped round the ear and told to keep it in their pants, and nothing more was said on the subject by their CO at the time, except the rumours had flown around the academy and before long everyone knew Roy wasn't too choosy on his night time partners.
He'd spent some time fielding questions about whether he was spending time on his knees as he began to ascend the ranks, and as such he tried to find a way to squash the rumours that he would fuck anything that moved. He found that the more he took out women the less he was questioned about how immorally he had achieved his rank, and that fuelling the thought that he was straight created a persona of someone not to be messed with, which suited him fine. It didn't truly matter to him whether he was wining and dining a man or a woman, so long as at the end of the night everyone got to orgasm, but it did seem to matter to jaded officers who felt they were more deserving of a promotion than Roy was. So for the next ten years, whilst he worked his way up the ranks, he exclusively dated women, he used womanly code-names in his operations, he put across the idea that he was a straight white man in a position of power, and he generally got what he wanted. The rumours of his bisexuality died down, and on the rare occasions he was propositioned by older men wanting to exert some power over 'that young upstart Mustang', he was always careful to turn them down with the right amount of outrage.
He frowned at her now.
"Fine. I'd kill Teller – I don't know him, it's the obvious choice because I don't want to kill the other two." He replied sulkily. "Then, I don't know… I'd probably marry Havoc." He added, looking down at his lap.
"So you'd fuck Edward?" Riza clarified, smirking.
Roy glanced at Ed again, but once more his professionalism was hiding any reactions he might make to their conversation. He shrugged his shoulders, trying for nonchalant.
"If I don't have another choice. He's already married so I don't want to take him away from his wife. Besides… Havoc would definitely be a better husband."
Riza laughed at his, the wine in her glass sloshing against the side, and Roy took another large gulp of his own, uncomfortable with the conversation. His friend shook her head at him as if he was some endearing little puppy chasing his own tail. He went to take another sip of his wine, and then realised the glass was empty and he had drank it way too quickly. Riza noticed too, and glanced across to their protection detail, sighing.
"Guess it's time to call it a night." She mumbled.
Roy checked his watch, and realised that he had been there forty-five minutes. It wasn't as if this was a long time, usually he was there for much longer, but he guessed it was a little unfair on their bodyguards. He nodded to Riza and stood, swaying slightly because he had drunk two glasses of wine quite quickly.
"Right, well," He mumbled. "Next week then."
Riza stood too, placing her glass on a small side table between the chairs.
"If not around HQ, sir."
Roy poked his tongue out at her, and Riza crinkled her nose in response, and then Edward was by his side, speaking into his walkie-talkie that they were on the move, and confirming Roy's suspicions that he had most likely heard their entire conversation. Roy collected his shoes and put them on, and shrugged back on his jacket, knowing it would be cold outside. The blonde man placed a hand on the small of his back to guide him out of the flat, and once more Roy thought to pull him up on it, but he was stumbling slightly from the alcohol intake, and it was actually nice to have something to ground him, so he looked away and kept his mouth shut. Then, with a wave to Riza, the two of them were in the corridor and heading back to the car.
Edward opened doors for him on to the street and went out first, eyes scanning the area, and he opened the door to the car as well. This time Roy fell in more eagerly, a mix of alcohol and embarrassment making him docile. Edward drove them in silence back to Roy's flat, and when they arrived at the door Roy fumbled with his key to let them in, feeling hot behind the ears because he had just confessed to picking Edward to have sex with in a hypothetical situation, and now he was tipsy and leading the man up to his apartment.
"It's not much." He heard himself saying as they arrived in the corridor outside his front door, and he wanted to shoot himself for saying it. Edward didn't care – he was only there as a job.
As they reached his door Roy noticed another man stood outside it, still as a statue, and then the blonde held out his hand for the key, and dutifully, Roy handed it over, looking around the corridor so he didn't have to look at his ex-subordinate. Edward opened the door with a nod to the guard, and motioned for Roy to follow him inside. They entered into a small corridor and as Roy closed the door behind him Ed said:
"Wait here."
He went to move off, but the wine was making Roy brave and argumentative.
"It's just my flat!" He objected, going to walk into it properly, but Ed turned and glared at him, raising his hands in anger.
"Just wait here." He ordered, and then seemed to deflate at whatever expression Roy was giving him. Given how he felt, Roy imagined his face was conveying something akin to shocked devastation. "Please." The blonde said, and it was the first polite thing he'd said all day, and so Roy planted his feet and stayed in the corridor, feeling ridiculous and upset, but obedient.
It took Ed another three minutes to scour the flat for any signs of foul play or suspicious activity, and when he was finally happy with the result he returned to the entry way and nodded to Roy.
"Thank you." He said, and it made Roy feel guilty for arguing. The General nodded, checking his pocket watch for the time, and noting that it was almost eight. He imagined it had been a very long working day for Edward.
"Where are you staying?" He asked before he could stop himself. Ed seemed a little surprised by the question.
"The Alverbank." He replied, and Roy recognised it as a mid-range hotel a few streets away, by the river bank. "There will be a guard outside your door all night." He added, and Roy felt himself flush slightly, because clearly Edward thought he had been asking out of concern for himself. He shook his head.
"Right, I mean..." He sighed. "He has to stay out there all night?" He asked, changing direction because it had just occurred to him what a terrible job that was for the guard outside. Edward looked at him in consideration for a moment.
"No, they take shifts. There's due to be three shift change-overs during the night." He explained, and then frowned, as if considering his next words. After a moment, he spoke again, this time carefully and gently, as if speaking to a child. "If you ever feel unsafe, you can call me at the hotel, and I'll come."
All of a sudden Roy felt way too close to the man, and he took a step back, putting himself against the wall, and he leant into the coolness of it, feeling drunk on wine and nostalgia. He nodded to Ed, although he was already telling himself he would never call the boy during the night. Nevertheless, Ed took a pen and wad of paper from his inside coat pocket, briefly flashing his gun-holster as he did so, and wrote down the number for the hotel. He handed it to Roy, who took it mutely. He turned to the door, readying to leave, and then turned back to Roy at the last moment, frowning as if he suspected that Roy had no intention of calling, even if he was getting shot at.
"I mean it, Mustang." He said, very seriously. "I'm your bodyguard. I will protect you."
