Title: Retribution
Author: AkizukiSakura
Pairing(s): Roy/Ed
Spoilers/Warnings: As far as I know, the spoilers are minimal. Also, this is YAOI. Don't like it, don't read it. Period. Sequel to Phone Sex and Retribution. It's not required that you read them, but it would be a very good idea. Un-beta'd.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I make no monetary profit from the writing and posting of this, or any, fanfiction.
Notes: In which Ed learns the repercussions of promising something while in the middle of sex. Edward is about twenty-three here, which makes Roy around thirty-seven or so.

Drunken Promise

"I really don't want to do this…" Ed moaned from his position on the couch in his little brother's hotel room. "It's bad enough that Armstrong knows. Mustang's going to hold this over my head forever."

Al rolled his eyes at his brother's griping. Some would say that Alphonse had the patience of a saint. Unfortunately, Ed could try the patience of a stone. "If you didn't want to do it, why'd you promise you would?" he asked in a level, long-suffering tone. Ed had been complaining about his role in the ball tonight ever since he'd showed up at Al's hotel this morning, and it was starting to grate on the younger Elric's nerves. Winry had only put up with it for a few minutes before she'd whacked Ed with a wrench and left with Scheska to shop for a dress.

"I didn't know what I was promising at the time!" Ed griped, glaring up at the ceiling. Al shook his head, idly stirring his cold tea. Ed hadn't told him the exact situation surrounding his impromptu promise, but Al could read between the lines. It sounded like Ed had been put into a position where refusal was impossible. Normally he would be plotting revenge with his brother – coercion was not all right with him – but the result was harmless enough that Al wasn't too worried. Besides, Al suspected that Ed was worrying over nothing.

"I rather think the Fuhrer will like it," Al remarked diplomatically, setting the mug down and smiling gently at Ed. "You always think the worst of him, even though you've been together all this time." Ed's only response to that was to throw his flesh arm over his eyes and groan. "It's not like you're bad at it!" Al tried again.

One gold eye stared balefully at him from under the arm. "Well, if you hadn't mentioned it to Armstrong to begin with, I wouldn't be in this position at all!" Ed quailed a little under Al's frown.

"Armstrong is scary," Al defended. "If I recall correctly, you caved under the sparkles and bare muscles every time he used them on you, Brother. I really don't think it's fair to blame me for everything."

"It was supposed to be something I did for you only!" Ed returned snippily. Frosty silence fell between them. Ed looked away from the wounded expression Al sent him. "…sorry…" he muttered, and sighed.

Al shook his head. "You know, Brother, it's really not that big of a deal. People do it all the time. I'm sure everyone will love when you do it, because you're really good at it. I should know; you've done it for me for a very long time, right?"

"No big deal, huh?" Ed repeated, glancing at his brother. Al noted the gleam creeping into his brother's eyes and widened his own in his patented puppy eyes, hoping to stave off whatever idea was in his brother's head. To his surprise, Ed shot to his feet and hurried over to the phone. Al watched in confusion as Ed waited, tapping a finger idly on the wood of the table the phone rested on. He seemed to perk up when the line connected.

"Colonel Armstrong?" he inquired delicately. Al stared. Why was Ed calling the colonel? Was he going to back out now? "No, no, everything's all right," Ed assured Armstrong. "No, I just had an idea for tonight. Yes, I'm still going to – well, you see, that's why I'm calling." Ed slanted a wicked glance at Al and Al felt his heart stop a little. "How would you like it if Al did, too? Yes, he's very good. Of course I will. No, I'll need to borrow something, though. We'll pick one up before we head to the ball. All right then."

Al stared, nonplussed, at his smugly grinning brother as he sauntered back over to the couch and plopped down. Ed was obviously feeling better about the whole situation. Al worked his jaw for several seconds before words actually came out. "What do you mean, I'm very good? You're the one who can–!"

"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten," Ed cut him off, and his expression was distinctly 'cat-in-the-cream'. "You aren't going to. But I happen to remember Mom teaching you something else," he added, examining his gloves idly. "I wasn't good at it, but you were."

Realization dawned on Al. "You mean…?" His brother's grin was all the answer he needed and he felt the blood drain from his face. "But, Brother, it's been so long! I haven't practiced in ages!" he tried. Ed raised an eyebrow at him.

"I call bullshit," Ed returned smoothly. "I happen to know you've been borrowing Winry's, and from what she says, you're as good as ever." He got to his feet, glancing at the time. "Speaking of which, how long does it take to find a damn dress?" he asked, changing the subject before Al could object.

"You know how Winry is," Al replied faintly, resigned. Oh well. He had been the one to tell Ed it was going to be fine. Besides, they had done this together before. How bad could it be?

The ball was proceeding quite smoothly, considering the enormity of the guest list. The fact that Armstrong had managed to somehow embellish to dowdy old mess hall so much that it almost looked like a real ballroom was an impressive feat on its own. Roy supposed he shouldn't be so surprised. Armstrong was a talented, if frightening, artist, and his pockets were extremely deep.

The Fuhrer lightly twirled his mostly-empty champagne flute between his gloved fingers and idly scanned the crowd of military blue men and gowned women.

"Nice party, Chief," remarked a voice to his right. Roy glanced over and smiled faintly at Havoc, who was resplendent in an immaculately-presented dress uniform. Hawkeye stood next to Jean. The normally staid woman wore an elegant burgundy dress with a modest neckline. Her hair, usually twisted up into a coif, draped in loose curls around her shoulders. Her fingertips rested very lightly on Jean's arm.

Roy raised a single eyebrow at his subordinates. Hawkeye returned his amused look with a smile while Havoc blushed and looked away. "Thank you, Havoc," he said finally. "You look beautiful tonight, Major General," he added to Hawkeye, who inclined her head slightly, graciously accepting his compliment. Roy knew the glance he cast over Riza's fingers on Havoc's arm was obviously curious, but neither general commented on it and he was forced to drop it.

In any case, if anything important was going on, he was certain he would know. Either Hughes would find out and tell him or one of the generals would inform him personally. He might be the Fuhrer but he was still their friend.

"I have not seen Edward this evening," Riza said during a brief lull as the musicians in the corner began to warm up. The melodious chords of a piano drifted through the room, prompting a number of couples to pair up and dance.

Roy drained the crystal flute and set it aside, casting his eyes in another nonchalant sweep of the room. "Unfortunately, Major General, I have not seen him either. Were you looking for him for something?" he asked genially, slanting a glance at his two most trusted subordinates. Riza calmly examined her own glass as Havoc shook his head.

"It's just unusual, sir," Jean remarked offhandedly. "I'm surprised he isn't here, since you ordered him to be." Havoc paused, running a hand through his perpetually messy blonde hair. "Though I don't know why I'm surprised," he mused. "Edward has been flouting your orders for years."

The Fuhrer inspected the array of responses in his arsenal, deliberated, and then finally replied with a mild, "I suppose that's true. I do, however, have his word that he will be here. As a matter of fact, from what Colonel Armstrong told me, Fullmetal is playing a special role in this evening's entertainment." He could feel both Hawkeye and Havoc look at him, knowing without meeting their gazes that they would be curious.

"That is most certainly unlike Edward," Hawkeye hazarded, fishing in her mild way for more information. When Roy did not respond, she pressed on. "As I recall, you had to threaten to cut his research budget just to get him to make an appearance at your inauguration, sir." Her tone clearly expressed her disapproval, as it had several years ago when Roy had told her the measures he'd had to resort to just to ensure Edward's presence.

"It would have given our foreign dignitaries ammunition against us had the very famous Fullmetal Alchemist not shown up to my inauguration," Roy reminded Riza, a tiny note of defensiveness creeping into his tone. "You know how superstitious some of them can be. I overheard the Xingian ambassador commenting to the Drachman ambassador that, and I quote, 'Amestris has been favored with a divine representative of justice', and that 'it would be a shame if the Hero of the People doesn't endorse the new Fuhrer'." Roy sniffed faintly in response to Riza's soft chuckle.

Havoc idly smoothed his stiff lapel, brushing away some of the lint that had gathered on it with a faint frown. "Well, Ed's been the hero for a long time now," he commented. "And it isn't like the Boss did it for attention or anything. He's just the kind of guy who cares about the people. I don't think it's too much of a stretch for people to think he's some kind of god of justice." When both Roy and Riza stared at him in surprise, Jean shrugged. "I don't think that. I'm just sayin'. I can sort of see why people would think that."

"Yes, well, for a god of justice, you would think he could learn to be on time for once," Roy said finally, joining in the light applause for the musicians. To his surprise, before they could start the next song, Colonel Armstrong stepped over to them and began speaking. They were too far away for Roy to hear, and he couldn't read Armstrong's lips under the massive blonde mustache. He considered walking over to them to find out what was wrong and stopped when the attention in the room shifted subtly from the musicians to the door.

Surreptitiously, Roy stepped back, carefully ascending the steps of the dais set up for him backwards as he tried to see what had captured the attention of his guests. He had a suspicion as to who it was and, a moment later, it was proved accurate as Colonel Elric stepped through the open double doors, flanked closely by his younger brother and his sister-in-law. Roy gave Alphonse and his wife a cursory glance, taking in their appearances. Alphonse, carrying something at his side, wore a simple black suit; Winry glowed in a cocktail dress of a delicate blush pink. He absorbed these details in an instant before his gaze settled on his blonde lover.

True to Armstrong's words, Edward wore a dress uniform that seemed to have been tailored especially to his slight stature. For a moment, Roy forgot to breathe. Roy had never, ever seen Fullmetal wear a uniform. He had always suspected the blonde would make the uniform look good. Even the red jacket Alphonse had crafted for his brother had not prepared Roy for just how good Ed would look right now. The gold braid of his uniform complimented his hair and eyes perfectly, drawing attention to the young colonel's tanned features. Four stars winked on Ed's shoulder boards, flickering in the light. The only thing marring the picture Ed made was the dark glower on his face, but Roy had expected that.

A low whistle on his right brought his attention back to Havoc and Riza and alerted him to the presence of his best friend. "Damn," Hughes remarked cheerily, green eyes flashing in amusement behind his spectacles. "There's only a few people I've ever seen make that uniform look good," he elaborated when Roy gave him a questioning look. "I'm surprised he was so resilient to wearing a uniform for so long."

"You know Fullmetal," Roy replied, striving to keep his tone casual as he drank in the sight of his younger lover. "He never really cared for the military. You know he only stayed because he knew he'd be bored otherwise." Roy watched Armstrong beckon to Ed and frowned faintly. As far as he knew, Ed had promised the other colonel to wear a uniform. Was Armstrong that vested in the promise that he demanded the older Elric's presence at his side, never mind that it was fairly obvious Fullmetal had fulfilled his obligation? Roy's confusion only mounted when Alphonse followed Ed, leaving Winry to chat with Scheska.

It was only when Ed and Al stepped fully out of the crowd to approach Armstrong that Roy realized Alphonse was carrying a violin case. He swiveled his gaze to Hughes and was only mildly surprised when his best friend merely smiled at him.

"You didn't know?" Hughes asked, the smile morphing into an unrepentant grin when Roy grudgingly shook his head. "Al mentioned to Armstrong a while back that Ed's a damn good singer when he wants to be." He pulled off his spectacles and began to wipe them with a handkerchief, shifting his attention back to the Elrics. "Armstrong, er, charmed Ed into doing this, and it looks like Ed passed on some of that to Alphonse. Seems like we're going to get an Elric concert."

Roy snapped his stare back to Ed. Fullmetal had his arms crossed now and, though his back was to Roy, the Fuhrer could tell from the stubborn set of the blonde's back that he was still scowling. Alphonse was nodding his head and smiling politely up at Armstrong, who was clearly giving them directions. After several moments, Al knelt and unfastened the straps on his case. When he stood again, he was holding a well-used violin. If Roy squinted, he could just make out the Armstrong family crest on the body of the instrument just opposite the chin rest. Ed waved off Armstrong when the colonel would have hovered over them.

Amazed that Ed was actually going to do something like this – in public, no less! – Roy settled in his chair and propped his cheek on one hand, deliberately lowering his eyelashes to peer at Ed from under them. As he expected, when Ed saw him, the younger alchemist flushed darkly. If they hadn't been surrounded by important dignitaries, Roy knew Ed would have flipped him the middle finger. As it was, the blonde settled for lowering the microphone stand a little. Someone in the audience made the mistake of chuckling and drawing Ed's irritated gaze.

Al, apparently sensing bloodshed in the near future, put a hand on his brother's shoulder for a moment. They looked at each other for several long seconds, obviously sharing a silent conversation, before Ed shrugged and Al sat down with a smile. Without any sort of introduction, Al picked up the bow and began the opening bars of the song.

The audience fell silent and there was an air of surprised pleasure in the room. Clearly they had been expecting something along the lines of a joke, not an actual performance. The pianist joined in after a few measures and, to Roy's utter surprise, Ed closed his eyes and began to lightly sway to the music. When he opened his eyes again, they were trained squarely on Roy as he opened his mouth.

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

Roy felt his breath hitch as the lyrics washed over him, realizing that Edward had not simply accepted some song from Armstrong. Despite his obvious dislike of having to sing in front of all these people, Edward was singing to him. A subtle hand on his shoulder made him glance, briefly, at Maes. His friend was wearing the gentle smile he reserved for his most intimate family members.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, the Elrics had managed to attain a place in Maes' heart. Seeing that Maes seemed to want some sort of response, Roy inclined his head very, very slightly to his oldest friend and turned his attention back to Ed. The blonde was still watching him as he sang the next verses, his smooth tenor a gentle counterpoint to Al's violin and the melody of the piano.

There is no life - no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But when you come and I am filled with wonder,
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

Shivers climbed up Roy's spine as he settled back in his chair and let his lover's surprisingly heartfelt singing wash over him. As Ed sang, Roy thought about the first time he'd seen the blonde – how broken the Elric brothers had seemed. Roy had never been so egotistic as to claim that Al's restoration had hinged upon Roy's convincing Ed to join the army. Ed had no such qualms. The day after Al's body had been pulled from the Gate's clutches, Roy had visited the hospital. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but Edward had definitely surprised him.

Perhaps Roy had thought that Al would be relatively unscathed from his stint in the Gate. Maybe that would account for the surprise and fear that had lanced through him when he had seen the incredibly gaunt young man tucked into a hospital bed. He'd been unable to say anything at all. The obligatory congratulations died in his throat when he got a good look at Ed. The elder Elric had obviously been at Al's side all night. There were dark, bruising circles under his eyes, but when he looked at Roy, there was nothing delirious about his stare.

"Thank you," he'd said simply, and Roy had known immediately that Fullmetal wasn't talking about his coming to visit. The younger man's gaze was as transparent as ever, and in those golden eyes Roy read everything. Ed was thanking him for galvanizing him into action all those years ago. Everything Roy had thought about saying to Ed and Al upon seeing them faded from his mind at that time, and he had allowed a real smile to curve his lips.

"You're welcome," he remembered replying.

The final rendition of the chorus broke through Roy's reminiscing. Ed was still watching him as he sang, and while his cheeks were still red with embarrassment, the candlelight softened the color to a most becoming shade of pink. Finally, Ed looked away, ponytail rippling with the movement. Golden bangs obscured Ed's eyes as he sang.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

Ed glanced back at Roy during the brief lull and smiled faintly. His sharp amber eyes swept the silent crowd for a moment before he crooned the final line into the microphone.

You raise me up... To more than I can be.

As Roy watched, Ed slowly released the microphone and stepped back. Al lowered the violin and set it gently in its velvet-lined case, flexing his fingers and rolling his neck. From the wry smile on his face as he looked at his older brother, Roy could guess that Ed was teasing him. Ed shifted and Roy sat up a little, recognizing the expression in the blonde's eyes. Roy knew exactly what Ed was thinking. Ed probably hoped to scurry away before anyone could stop him. Roy got to his feet with a smirk and began clapping, breaking the audience from their surprised silence.

When Ed glared at him, Roy offered a serene smile and let the corner of his mouth tilt wickedly. This time Ed didn't bother with subtleties. He made an extremely rude gesture at Roy as Armstrong walked back over to them, the crowd parting before the large man like a hot knife through butter. Unsurprisingly, the huge man was pouring tears and looked like he was going to shed his shirt at any moment. Luckily for the quickly panicking Elrics, Hughes appeared in front of Armstrong to give the blondes time to escape. Roy was impressed; he hadn't even heard Maes leave.

With his chance at escape blown by Mustang, Ed was forced to endure the applause. He folded his arms self-consciously and pasted his fiercest scowl on his face, hoping to discourage anyone from approaching. Everyone knew of his volatile disposition – part of the reason they had been so shocked to hear him not only sing, but sing well – so the scowl seemed to be working. Winry was the first one to venture forth, skirting neatly around the sobbing Armstrong to reach her husband.

"You were both really amazing," she praised as soon as she was within earshot, beaming at them. Despite her pleased expression, Ed recognized the look she shot him: I have a wrench and I'm not afraid to use it. Having been beaned by said wrench once already this morning, Ed wasn't too keen on a repeat performance. He glanced up at the Fuhrer's dais and frowned, realizing Roy was no longer sitting there. That could only mean–

"I'm impressed," drawled a deep voice behind him. Ed turned, knowing before he saw him that Roy was standing there. Ed's posture became defensive.

"Don't even start with me, you bastard," Ed snapped, feeling his cheeks heat when said bastard smirked at him. "This is your fault, anyway. If you hadn't kept me distracted on the phone…" He trailed off, acutely aware of what he'd been about to say and the fact that not only were Al and Winry listening but Hawkeye and Havoc had followed Roy. He looked away. "…anyway," he grumbled.

To his surprise, a gloved hand slipped gently under his chin and tilted his head up. He snapped his eyes back to Roy – who was still smirking, damn him.

Obviously not caring about their audience, Roy cupped Ed's cheek gently. The smirk faded into a real smile. "I'm not teasing you this time, Edward," he said simply. Irate, Ed batted his hand away, but he couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips in response to Roy's honesty. "I didn't get a chance to tell you, but you look nice," the Fuhrer added, giving the colonel an appraising look.

"Yeah, well…" Ed started. A warning glare from Winry made him change his words. "…you look good, too," he muttered.

"Where did you learn to sing?" Havoc asked. Ed wilted a little. He wouldn't have minded telling his friends the story in privacy but with a good number of army officers also listening in, he was reluctant. He glanced at Al and found that his brother was watching him. There was a question in his bronze gaze. Ed glanced around before nodding very slightly.

Al drew everyone's attention by snapping the violin case closed loudly. "Brother and I did a lot of travelling when he had to go on missions," he said mildly. "Even though we rode the trains, there was still a lot of walking. How do you think we passed the time?" As their audience murmured around them, Ed caught Al's eye and smiled just slightly. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth, either.

"So do you both sing and play?" asked one of the junior officers.

Ed would never tire of the way Al's soft laughter warmed the room, no longer confined to the tinny echoes of armor. "No," his little brother replied. "For one thing, my voice sounds like a sick frog." He waited for the audience's amusement to fade before adding, "and for another, Ed's playing sounds like a lame duck. Mother decided it was best to keep him away from the violin."

It took several hours before Ed was able to escape the constant questions and attempts to draw him into a conversation from the guests. Al's patient intervention and the threat of a wrench from Winry kept him civil, but only just. By the time he had managed to slip out of the mess hall it was already well past midnight and he'd retreated to the roof. For the dead of winter, the weather was mild enough that he was only mildly uncomfortable in his uniform. He still hated wearing the stupid thing, but at least it was made of wool. Even better, it came with a heavy winter coat to protect his automail from the chill.

He tilted his face up and closed his eyes and a wet wind blew across the roof, lifting his bangs and tossing them in its chilly embrace. He leaned on the railing with a sigh and stared unseeingly at the darkened parade ground below. He would never understand the attraction to massive parties that the military seemed to. He knew the flippant things were good for bringing hopeful young officers to the attention of the older ones, but that didn't explain all the pointless chatter and gossip.

"I knew you'd be up here," Roy commented from behind him, startling him badly enough that his arm slipped on the railing. A strong arm looped around his waist and steadied him before he could fall. Ed turned in Roy's loose embrace and rested his elbows on the rail. He leaned on his elbows casually and tilted his head back to see his lover. Roy was smiling down at him in that warm way that he seemed to reserve for Ed alone.

Against his will, Ed felt an answering smile curve his lips. "Tch. I'm all of twenty-three and already predictable. I should be worried." He turned his head to stare into the distance, admiring the pinprick lights of those in Central who had stayed up to usher in the new year.

"Are you saying you're not?" Roy asked quietly, his breath wafting warmly over Ed's ear. Ed was unable to suppress a slight shiver. He strove for nonchalance as Roy leaned closer. For the second time that night, gloved fingers drifted under his chin to turn his gaze back to Roy's. Ed peered up at the Fuhrer and appeared to think over Roy's question.

"If you were anyone else, I would be," he replied finally. As Roy's head dipped towards his, he shrugged casually. "I think I'll make an exception for you, though," he breathed as their lips melded. Ed draped his arms around Roy's neck and let his eyes close, fitting his lips more snugly to his lover's. Even after all this time, heat bloomed from the contact and raced through Ed, warming him more effectively than all the coats in the world.

Roy drew him as close as their thick winter clothing would allow, tongue flicking over the seam of Ed's lips. Without any further coaxing Ed opened his mouth and twined his tongue with the older man's. Roy tasted like he always did; coffee, scotch, and a hot sweetness that was unique to him and him alone. Roy was not the first person Ed had ever kissed, but Ed had no desire to kiss anyone ever again. Roy was everything Ed had ever wanted in a lover and, if the past several years had been any indication, Roy felt the same about Ed.

Gradually they broke apart, both panting and flushed despite the early morning chill. Even through their layers, Ed could tell that Roy was aroused, as was he. It wasn't the desperate feeling it had been when they'd first kissed. It was softer, and sweeter, and just for a few moments Ed could tuck away his prickly exterior and Roy could hide away his masks and they could simply bask in their mutual love for each other.

Roy lightly touched his lips to Ed's. "Happy New Year, Edward," he whispered.

Ed wrinkled his nose at Roy's sappiness. "Tch, bastard," he replied, and even though he kept his tone suitably scathing, he knew from the warmth in the Fuhrer's eyes that the man had seen through his attempt at normalcy. He rolled his eyes. "Oh, all right. Happy New Year, Roy," he said finally.

Roy rewarded his equal sappiness with another kiss, and if Ed moaned into it, well, they were the only ones up here anyway.

Word Count (With lyrics) 4,900

"You Raise Me Up" was written by Secret Garden's Rolf Løvland and the lyrics by Brendan Graham. The version that I had in mind here was a cover done by Josh Groban. I am well aware that the instrument featured isn't actually a violin, but it seems like it could easily be adapted to a violin. Originally Al wasn't going to play much of a role, but since a few people guessed that Ed would sing, I decided to toss Al in as a surprise. I know it's a Christian-y, religious-y song. I just chose to ignore that and take the lyrics at face value.

On the issue of Ed in a dress: I like Ed cross-dressing fics as much as the next fangirl. The problem is that I am prior military. I know how it is. As much as I would have liked to write Ed in a dress, the simple fact is that it would be entirely inappropriate for a military ball. So inappropriate, in fact, that Roy might have been forced to disciplinary action. And no, not the fun kind.

This came out later than I had anticipated, mostly because it was extraordinarily difficult for me to write (I couldn't decide how to start it), but here it is! The apparently highly-anticipated end of what began with Phone Sex. These little ficlets and one-shots have been received even better than I realized. I had expected a modest reception and maybe two or three reviews. You guys responded so amazingly, though, that what was supposed to be a simple one-shot (Phone Sex) spawned a whole mini-series.

In thanks for all of your support, I have also written a very short little ficlet that can be seen as the companion to this. Lullaby for a Stormy Night is a prequel to this series that I wrote upon hearing the song of the same name and realizing how well it could suit Edward and Alphonse as children. I hope you all enjoy it along with Drunken Promise!

I'm hoping to write the story of how Ed and Roy actually got together. I'm not sure how long it will be, or if it will even exist, but I definitely hope to write it eventually. Please look forward to it! If anyone has any requests for this mini-series, please let me know. I'm not promising to write everything you ask for, but what's the worst that I can say? No?

Incidentally, this is only my second attempt at something with less than an M rating. Hope it came out all right. Please review and let me know!

~AkizukiSakura