Edward Elric, now just shy of 20 years of age, was heading home. Finally. After two solid years of drifting around the country of Amestris, his wanderlust faded. For the time being. Now, he would go back to Resembool, marry Winry (who had been surprisingly patient with him during his time away), and relax a bit before resuming his travels, if he chose to do so.

After two years of having no plan except to keep moving, having his immediate future be so grounded felt distinctly odd.

Ed was extremely excited to go back to Resmbool. It had been ages since he had seen his fiancée, and he in fact intended to surprise her with his arrival. Edward could only hope that she had gotten rid of her habit of hitting him over the head with a wrench whenever he visited…

Before heading up the winding road to Winry's house, Edward decided to stop by the cemetery. He spent a short time by his mother's grave, and his father's, before settling in front of one he had not seen before.

Granny Pinako's.

Ed began to speak, his soft words carrying in the breeze. "I never actually thought you would die…this is the part where I should call you an old hag, but I won't…it seems disrespectful since this is the first time I've visited you. I hope you're not mad about that; Winry insisted that I not come home, seeing as she wasn't planning a big funeral. She said I could come by whenever I was around, and here I am…"

After a while, he turned around. Pinako had died not long after he left Resembool, and while Edward felt a weight lift from his shoulders by paying his respects, his grief had long since subsided to a dull ache.

Never one to be melancholy for long, a smile grew on Ed's face as Winry's house came into view. He ran the last few steps up to the door, and knocked.

"Just a minute!"

That was not Winry's voice. In fact, it wasn't even female. Edward felt a strange sense of foreboding as the door began to open. "Hey, what can I do for you?"

The man standing before Ed was not overly muscular, but extremely tall. His auburn hair was cropped short, and his brown eyes were unreadable. There were oil stains all over his shirt, and a dirty cloth was tucked into his waistband.

Edward's nervousness subsided; Winry must have found a partner for her automail shop.

Irritated at having to look up at the man (he never got over being shorter than everyone else for much of his life, though he had grown substantially once he turned 16), Edward responded. "I'm looking for Winry Rockbell?"

As if summoned by his inquiry, Winry's voice floated out from the back of the house. "Kurt! Who's there?"

Not taking his eyes off Edward, this "Kurt" shouted back. "Some guy, blonde hair in a ponytail, golden eyes, shorter than me, says he knows you?"

Instead of the squeal of recognition he expected to hear, along with the tapping of feet rushing to the door, Ed made out the sound of a muffled, "Shit!" followed by what he presumed to be more expletives.

What the hell?

Deciding he had been polite enough, Edward pushed Kurt aside—this was his home dammit—and found Winry in her workshop.

Kurt followed him, seeming unperturbed by his forced entry, and watched from a doorway as he questioned Winry.

"What, not happy to see me?"

"Look, okay, sit down Edward…"

Ed did as he was bid, crossing his arms and scowling. "I don't know how to say this, Edward, but…well I guess I should first say our engagement is off. And…I'm marrying Kurt."

Edward was usually very vocal, but in this instance, he found himself shocked thoroughly into silence. Winry fiddled nervously with her shirt, but her eyes were determined. She wasn't kidding.

Finally, he managed to choke out a response. "What, you couldn't have fucking told me before I came all the way back?"

At this, his ex-fiancée's demeanor turned toward an all-too-familiar irritation. "You say that like I had a way to contact you! I've been pretty much alone for two years, you hardly ever called or wrote, and almost never had a stable address or phone number. How the hell was I supposed to get a hold of you? Would it have killed you to visit every once in a while? Idiot!"

Edward stood, his briefcase knocking over a nearby stool. "It's not like you seemed to want me here, even when I proposed you were more than happy to let me go weren't you? You never said you wanted me to come back, hell, you even told me not to come to Granny's funeral!"

"Did I have to spell it out for you? You'd think someone so smart could figure out that I was lonely without me having to say it! It was horrible here, and then Kurt came along, and he actually listened to me! Plus he's an automail mechanic! How could I not fall in love with him? How was I supposed to stay in love with you if you were never around!?"

This time, Ed's response was calm, even hurt. "I managed to still love you, even though I never saw you."

"Never more than traveling though. You never loved me more than whatever knowledge you thought you might find."

Kurt stepped into this tense moment. "Look, I think you need to go."

"Are you fucking kidding me!? You're the one who needs to go, asshole, you've got no right to Winry—"

"I'm not property, Edward! You can't claim me! And I'm not going to change my mind about Kurt."

He could see that clearly. Ed was about to comment on how they couldn't very well kick him out of his own house—until he realized this wasn't his house anymore.

Without another word, and sparing a moment only to flip Kurt off, Edward left the Rockbell residence for the last time, to the sound of Winry berating him for his behavior.

Bossy to the end.

Pausing only a moment to think, Ed headed back to the train station, downtrodden and angry. He might as well go visit his friends in Central while he was semi-close. Besides, he didn't have anywhere else to go.

Roy Mustang was in Central to report his progress to Fuhrer Grumman. He had arrived early, in the hopes of enjoying himself a bit. After all, he had been working hard the past few years, and at this point the Ishbalans were doing well. The General deserved some down time.

Ever the womanizer, Roy had been looking for a girl to spend his time with. Yet it seemed almost as though he had seen—and been with—every girl in Central. He knew this wasn't the case, and in fact saw many new faces; but they were all the same type.

Every last one of them.

Eventually, though, Roy found a brunette who seemed nice—and maybe different—enough, and he took her to dinner (albeit, at a fairly cheap venue; two years had not loosened Roy's grip on his wallet). And after that, he went, inevitably, over to her house.

Roy found himself above the same brunette, not much later, wrapped in the sheets of her bed. She was panting, already a mess though they had barely begun, and he…

Well, he was already wondering when it would be over.

There wasn't anything wrong with the girl, per say. Roy simply found himself bored. He had done this a million times, or at least it felt like it, and he wasn't excited over the prospect of repeating the same steps again.

After a moment more of thought, the General apologized profusely, before getting up and redressing himself. All the while, the girl protested, not stopping until Roy closed the door to her bedroom and left the flat.

Walking the streets of Central again now, Roy was disappointed. It was impossibly depressing for someone as young as him to no longer be excited at the prospect of sex.

Then an idea came to him. It was easily the most insane thought that had ever popped into his head. But Roy was never one to back down from the possibility of a night of fun, and if this helped him do so, he would gladly take the chance.

Maybe he needed something other than a woman.