Allow me to tell you a story (It's quick, I promise). I had a dream one night, and since I don't usually remember my dreams, this was pretty nifty. I found it quite interesting, so I took a shower to get my plot bunnies into gear, sat down, and wrote them all out for about an hour. This is what came out.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. If I did, I'd be off fangirly screaming and glomping Edo and Roy right now. Not that I...do that...or anything...Heh...

Warning(s): Rated for themes, and the rating will possibly go up in later chapters. Depends on how I feel at the time. This story contains spoilers for various episodes of the series, in no particular order, so if you haven't seen Fullmetal Alchemist in it's entirety, I suggest you don't read this, and go watch it. Now.

"Now why the Hell did you two run away without asking for my help first?!"

His eyes viciously narrowed, the tall, dark-haired figure bellowed down at his companion: The one who had haunted his dreams for months, for reasons he could not even begin to attempt to comprehend. He was standing opposite him, his long, blond hair drawn back in a braid, and his amber eyes wide with disbelief. For a moment, both were silent and unmoving, before the blond gave a smile that was almost a smirk as realization dawned.

With a sickening jolt, the image faltered, and he found an uncomfortable knot welling in the pit of his stomach. He could not explain it, any more than he could decipher the identity of this blond, but somehow he simply knew that the next series of images to flood his poor mind would not be ones he would find particularly pleasant.

He kept his gaze focused upon the ground that his feet were pounding, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket. This recollection felt earlier than the last, several years perhaps. The strain seemed devoid from his face as he glanced into a nearby shop window, though that smirk of his still seemed permanently affixed to his lips.

He raised a gloved hand, and softly pushed open the gate, which swung to admit him, creaking eerily in the slight breeze that these winter nights always seemed to possess. He heard it close behind him, though his focus was not upon the gate. Instead, he was watching a figure sitting on the swing several feet from him, kicking out at the ground in annoyance.

He couldn't have been any older than fifteen, though his long, blond hair covered his face, almost deliberately. He was repeatedly clenching and unclenching the fingers of his right hand in an almost unconscious motion, and the taller figure couldn't prevent a faint smirk at the gesture.

He took a step forward, and immediately the boy's head snapped up, revealing piercing amber eyes. A second later, he had dropped his gaze again and the figure standing opposite him distinctly caught several curses being hissed from his mouth. This did not deter him, however, if anything it encouraged him, as he walked towards the boy, and took a seat on the swing beside him.

"Edward." he said softly.

The blond did not avert his gaze, and when he spoke, his voice was monotonous, as though reciting some deeply boring passage from an equally tedious book. "I haven't broken anything, I'm not about to cost you any money, you don't have any more paperwork to ignore, and I'm not going to die on you. Happy?"

His onyx-eyed companion surveyed him with mild amusement for a moment, and smiled faintly. "I'd have thought the fact that I referred to you by your name rather than your title made it quite clear that I don't want to talk about work, Edward."

"Oh, it did, Colonel," he replied, deliberately emphasizing his rank. "But I can guarantee that whatever it is you want to talk about, I don't. So why don't you just leave?"

"I wasn't asking you to talk." he said simply.

"So what is it you want to tell me?" Edward snarled, glancing up for the first time since the beginning of the conversation and meeting those cold, hollow eyes, glaring back into them with his own enraged amber pupils. "Come to make my life even more of a misery than you already fucking have? Or d'you want to tell me what else I've done to ruin your career?" he rested his chin on his palm, his eyes wide with mock intrigue. "Pray tell, Colonel. I honestly am riveted."

The taller figure smiled faintly at his subordinate's defiance. He had expected nothing less from the ill-tempered blond, and it never failed to amuse him. He remained silent for several moments, awaiting the fury in the blond's eyes to retreat very slightly, until all that was left was his usual indifferent, though irritated, expression.

In one, swift motion, he got to his feet and stood directly in front of the smaller figure, gazing down at him with an expression of mingled amusement, and something that perhaps resembled awe. Even he wasn't certain of his own intentions any more.

He was determinedly staring at his feet, which he was shifting uncomfortably beneath the Colonel's stare. His golden hair was covering his pallid face once again, and without even thinking, the dark-haired figure stooped down, and gently brushed it away, causing him to start, and stare at him in alarm.

"What the Hell are you-"

"Edward," he murmured softly, lowering his hand to gently caress his cheek. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed?"

The blond swallowed hard. "N-noticed what?"

The regret in his eyes was perfectly evident the instant the words left his mouth, and even the Colonel was surprised at how fragile his tone had suddenly become. The realization struck him with such ferocity that it was almost painful. He would have to progress carefully from this moment on if he wished to divulge what had been plaguing him since the moment he had laid eyes on Edward Elric. How could he not have noticed the vulnerability within him, before?

"That things have changed," he said. "That the way I look at you is..." he trailed off, speechless for the first time in living memory.

Thankfully, Edward seemed to understand, as his skin blanched further, becoming a delicate shade of gray, and he slowly raised his head to meet the Colonel's gaze, his eyes wide and fearful. He could tolerate Colonel Bastard with ease, even relish, but this suddenly sentimental Colonel was unheard of, especially when this sentiment was directed at him.

"You hate me," he said quietly. "You've hated me since the day you showed up in Resembool."

Drawing a deep breath, the Colonel dropped to his knees, and found himself level with the still seated Edward. His hand remaining upon his cheek, he leaned forward, and pressed his lips so gently to Edward's that they were barely touching, though the blond still flinched at the contact.

A moment that felt like an eternity passed before the Colonel pulled away, and Edward was stunned to find any facade absent from his eyes. All that lay within his pupils was the true Roy Mustang, that very few had ever been privileged enough to see, without even a semblance of the cold indifference that his onyx eyes normally possessed.

When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "Do you honestly believe that?"

"Roy? Roy?!"

He awoke with a start, his eyelids flickering open so suddenly that the figure leaning over him, gently shaking his shoulders, flinched back in surprise. His shoulders sank in relief, and he gave an exasperated smile, pushing his spectacles to the bridge of his nose, as they had fallen at some point during his companion's rude awakening.

"What?" groaned Roy, raking a hand through his hair.

"You're late."

He stared blankly at the bespectacled figure for a moment, before he tilted his head very slightly to the right, and his digital alarm clock swam into his line of vision. Blinking, he managed to register the scarlet numbers as 8:45, and with a hiss of, "Shit!" he tore himself free of the covers, and raced into the bathroom, clad only in a pair of boxers, much to the amusement of the figure still watching him from the bed.

The crooked smile faltered, and he got to his feet, casually following Roy into the bathroom. He hung back, leaning against the door frame as he awaited him to finish his shower, anxiously picking at his fingernails. Minutes later, he was frantically rubbing his jet black hair with a towel using his left hand, and attempting to squeeze some toothpaste onto his brush with his right, and the slightly shorter figure in the doorway chose that moment to voice what was plaguing him.

"Roy?"

"Maes, I have..." his eyes flickered towards the clock again. "Eleven minutes to get ready, and get to work. What d'you want?"

All too used to Roy's temperament at such an hour, Maes simply overlooked his irritable tone. "Have you been having those dreams again?"

The effect of his words was immediate. Roy's toothbrush slipped from his hand and fell to the tiled floor, at exactly the same time as his grip on his towel slackened, and it too hit the ground. He eyed his room mate sheepishly, silently questioning what he had done to give him reason to suspect him.

"It's just," Maes continued, with a calm air that was clearly feigned. "You were moaning in your sleep last night about some Edward."

"Oh!" Roy said quickly, stooping down to throw his towel across the room, and pick up his toothbrush once again. "Yeah. I don't know what the fuck these dreams are all about. I don't even know an Edward."

Maes arched a brow. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." Roy replied smoothly, though since he had begun to brush his teeth by this point, it sounded more like, "O' courfe."

Apparently satisfied by this response (though Roy couldn't imagine why) Maes turned on his heel and returned to the bedroom in search of something appropriate to wear for work that day, leaving Roy to continue his morning ritual with haste.

He checked his watch in panic as he wrenched on his shoes, which had been shined to their usual perfection, and grimaced upon realizing he was already late. Grabbing his keys from their usual haunt (strewn lazily across the kitchen table, and accompanied by several empty bottles of liquor) he shouted a quick goodbye, and slammed the door behind him with such ferocity that he flinched at the sound.

He didn't even look where he was going as his feet pounded the cracked sidewalk. His gaze was focused on his watch, which he checked every few seconds as he furiously attempted to concoct a plausible excuse as to why he was late again. He didn't suppose, "I've been having these weird dreams lately and slept straight through my alarm for the third time this week." would quite cut it, somehow.

So distracted, it came as no surprise when he ran straight into another figure, and both of them collapsed to the ground with a loud thump. Instantly, Roy was on his feet once again, and holding out a hand to assist the poor pedestrian who had been unlucky enough to encounter him on such a morning.

"I'm sorry!" he said quickly. "I'm late, and I wasn't-"

He cut himself off abruptly as the figure looked up at him, massaging the back of his neck in annoyance. He would recognize those amber eyes anywhere. They had, after all, haunted him for much longer than he cared to remember.

"Edward?"