Disclaimer: Don't own FMA. Making no money off of this.

Beta'ed by the lovely Jaya Mitai, who deserves a lapful of purring kitties for putting up with me. Any mistakes likely due to my further tweaking things around.

-.-

Their first game lasted thirteen minutes.

He'd assumed Havoc or Breda had put Fullmetal up to it, so he leaned back in his chair and waited for the expected outburst.

It never came.

A baleful golden glare fixed him, daring him to mention even one word on how short the game had been, and satisfied his opponent had no plans to redecorate the inside of his office, Fullmetal had turned his attention back to the chessboard, fingers of his left hand drumming thoughtfully against the table.

He was, Roy realized after a moment, replaying the game in his head.

-.-

He moved another pawn into place and watched Fullmetal watch him.

The games had continued, much to his bemusement. He might have chalked it up to the way Fullmetal never went down without kicking and screaming the whole way; perhaps the game wasn't over to Fullmetal until he had won, and indeed his progress over the last few months had been astounding, but what surprised him most was how peaceful the whole process had been. Fullmetal had never been gracious in defeat, but he'd simply walked in a few days later, calmly demanded a rematch that he'd attacked with intense control, and here they were, a month and how many "rematches" had it been? later, still at it.

Why here? Why now?

"Why are you here?" he asked carefully as he waited for Fullmetal to make the next move. The silence would have been companionable if it had been Hughes or Riza (and he would worry when the day came that one of the others did not have some sort of odd remark to interject during a match), but Fullmetal had returned, three months after the Elrics had disappeared off the face of Amestris, uncharacteristically silent, tension still humming tightly where his ranting and insults had once been.

The boy looked up, snorted. "You know why I'm here."

And he did know, had seen that same expression once long ago in a mirror, before the extra stars had been added to his shoulders. The mirror was probably dust now, Maes had swept up the broken pieces and thrown them out while he'd been huddled, shivering on the couch. He'd seen that expression before, but unlike him, perhaps Edward could actually do something with it, here, now, and when had he ever been able to turn Edward away from anything? And the relief he'd felt at the Elrics being alive and well, the rush of delight, pride, undeserved, that Ed was restored and Al had his body back, the anger, stupid,stupid boy to waltz back into Headquarters when here had been the Elrics' chance to quietly disappear, escape safe from the turmoil that was yet to come, now was not the time to be coming back dammit, he owed them that much peace after all he'd directly or indirectly done to them---had vanished, unimportant for now, to be replaced with the heavy sinking of acceptance. He owed them, but Edward wanted him to pay it back another way.

"I know you wanted to help the people you felt you should have helped while you were journeying," he replied, patiently. "But you've done all you had planned to do in the few months since, why are you still here?"

"This job never ends." Fullmetal pushed a bishop over, expression blank.

Roy hummed and captured a piece with a knight. "But why the military? An alchemist like you could easily work up similar funding on your own?"

A smirk flitted across the boy's features, and while his masks still dropped much too easily, Roy had already trained him too well. "Was that a compliment, Mustang?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Or are you trying to warn me about something?"

He kept his expression neutral, Edward was a wild card that required careful placing; it had been difficult enough to put him in just enough trouble to achieve the desired results when he was younger. The Ed that had returned to them was sharper, older, though just as volatile, and he did not, did not, want to set off a reaction, because he knew, even if Fullmetal didn't, that that clause had never been in the contract, because Fullmetal, despite his reputation, was better suited for reconstruction than destruction.

A sudden, terrible thought struck him, and he breathed it before his tongue had processed the command to stop. "Is it because of Al?"

Golden eyes widened, then went flat. "You think I'm here because I had a falling out with Al? As some kind of punishment on myself?"

And he might have dug his own grave deeper, protested that Hughes' reports showed that Al was still recovering, adjusting to his new body, why would Ed leave his brother behind at a time like this? But the incredulous look in Fullmetal's glare and the wistful note when he said his brother's name had already convinced him this was not the case.

"Al is fine. We're fine." A gloved hand swiped one of his pieces out of the way, and Roy let out a breath. He had been silly to think that anything had come between them.

-.-

The bar smelled of smoke and grease; dim yellow lighting hiding the scuffs and stains on the counter. He leaned forward to give Sandy a kiss, chocolate truffle box tucked safely inside his jacket. She tittered and waved at him, and he smiled fondly at her amused eye roll; the silver ribbon had been a nice touch. Picking up his drink, he was making his way to one of the small side tables when a strong hand gripped his elbow. Tensing, he turned, and the identity of his accoster did not help him relax.

"Fullmetal," he drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Fancy meeting you here."

Fullmetal snorted and tugged him over; they were headed for the other side of the room now, and the sight of a familiar shaggy head caused him to forget to pay attention to what Fullmetal was saying.

What is he doing here? And what is Fullmetal doing here?

He averted his eyes before Borjim saw him watching, but the chocolate box was heavy in his mind, and he was grateful he'd planned for Riza to pick him up in an hour so they could confirm the contents later that night. There should be time to drop Fullmetal off at the dorms first, after he found out why exactly the young man was here.

"---legal and I do know how to drink," Fullmetal was griping.

"I never said youcouldn't be here, Fullmetal," he commented mildly, "I want to know why you are here."

"I said I owed you lunch if I lost the last game; I figured a drink is the same. Geez, if I'd known you wouldn't even remember I shouldn't have bothered."

"A drink for a lunch?" he purred, senses sliding fully into defense mode. "Isn't that kind of cheap, Fullmetal?"

Fullmetal's eye roll was much more obvious than Sandy's. "Fine then, two. You can't taste the difference between that and water after the first one anyways, so what's the point of getting you more?"

He relaxed slightly; so not out to get him drunk then; and they were moving away from the man at the end of the counter. But even as he made a quip about alcohol tolerance and height, he couldn't help watching carefully for any signs that Edward knew Borjim or Borjim knew Ed.

-.-

"You tend to have a hard time letting go of pieces," Fullmetal commented, and Roy snapped his attention back to the present.

"How so?" Outwardly, in front of other people, they often interacted as if Edward was still fourteen, but he had known, known for a long time the boy was not. It was safer though, safer for both of them if they did not rock that boat just now. At least that was what Roy told himself. He still wasn't sure what Fullmetal was holding back; the Fullmetal of fourteen had never been hesitant about speaking his mind. But it had been a long day, would be a longer week, he was tired, and for once, even if it was a staged production, it might be nice to let someone in.

"You use them to your full advantage, but you can't seem to treat them as pieces. A lot of times you are too slow to let them go; it will cost you."

Roy frowned, mind on alert again from its previous relaxed state, and Edward seemed to sense something from his expression, because instead of waiting for Roy to comment on how he still hadn't lost any of their games so far, he half changed the direction of the conversation by adding, "You don't play like you think of yourself as the king, either."

A hum of adrenaline was sparking down his neck, but he forced himself to smile. "Very astute, Fullmetal."

"If your opponent knows how to play chess, play a few games with him," Sensei had told him, back when he'd wanted to light the whole bundle of sticks on fire and could not understand why someone would want to burn just the one on top of the pile. "There is no better way to learn his moves than on a chessboard. But at the same time, as with all things, it will leave you exposed as well."

"People use different mindsets when playing chess, but I prefer not to think of myself as the king." There, that should be loud enough and clear enough for anyone who might be listening. He felt his gut clench and hoped it was only his paranoia that read too much into Fullmetal's question.

"Don't think of yourself as the king when you are playing," Sensei had added with a frown. "Think of yourself as the game."

-.-

The door to the outer office slammed open with a bang, and he let his newspaper drop carefully over the opened files on his desk.

Expecting Fullmetal, he prepared his all-purpose smirk, but it was Havoc who stormed through and dumped a garishly large bouquet of lilies, roses, and were those moonbeams? on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"Cynthia wanted me to bring these to you," Havoc snarled, before stomping out to his desk.

He circled the bouquet cautiously; from the card it seemed that he was sending a get well gift to General Wichar, recovering from a broken leg in Central Hospital. Which he'd planned to do, of course, just not with this particular bouquet. So they obviously knew him well enough to know that he got all his flowers at Cindy's shop, but Cindy knew him better, and he made a mental note to give his sincere thanks to both Cindy and Jean later. Raising his right hand, a carefully controlled snap reduced the flowers to a fragrant pile of ash, exposing the two small devices contained within. They would have fallen out if someone had tried to remove some of the wrapping to place the flowers in a vase, he noted.

Walking to his doorway, he motioned for Fuery to come in, but he was fairly certain he already knew what they were. The new long-distance listening devices were very expensive, and some of the parts used were so difficult to make by hand they were actually easier to transmute.

-.-

"Dushville isn't too happy with the military." Fullmetal's boot thumped against the coffee table. "They think they're being sold out as it is and they'll be first to be sacrificed if war starts on that front." He looked at Roy, openly calculating, and inwardly, Roy flinched.

"What about Baines?" he asked instead, sidestepping the challenge.

Fullmetal huffed his bangs out of the way. "Doing himself no favors with the townspeople, but the higher-ups probably love him. Good thing I don't like wearing the uniform, huh?" The grin was cocky, selfsure, and if the eyes had been more open, he might have imagined a younger Edward, triumphant after a mission, the faintest hope that this time he would get only praise, and Roy could never indulge him completely, much as he wished, because Edward would need to stand on his own, their paths would diverge soon enough. He quashed the odd tightening in his chest and instead dismissed the boy.

I am running out of time.

"Brennan is in charge of spying on you," Fullmetal growled softly as he moved past him to the door.

He stood there frozen for a minute, unsure whether or not Fullmetal's new position in the game had just become clear.

-.-

When he allowed himself to think about it, he'd always thought that the Elrics would just leave. Leave, disappear, nothing more to do with the military or himself. So when Edward and Alphonse had vanished, nowhere to be found for a good three months before turning up safe and restored in Risembul, there had been a pang of regret none of the people they'd known in the military had been contacted and told that they were safe, but it had been expected, and while he'd wished Hughes and the rest of his command, if not himself, could be granted some closure with the Elrics (and he knew they were dangerously fond of their little mascots as well), he knew why the Elrics had not risked it and respected that decision. He had hoped, when he allowed himself to hope, with a tingling tongue and hazy head, that perhaps Edward would understand, at least, one day, understand why he'd done what he did, stringing them along and never putting them on equal footing like Edward had craved; understand, if not forgive. It had been an illusion, an illusion for the higher-ups and an illusion for the Elrics, both made by him. One of them had to hold, and he'd always known that one day in the future the other one wouldn't, so he had expected nothing more, dared expect nothing more.

But Fullmetal had come back. Fullmetal had come back tight and tense and silent on the issues he had been so vocal about before. Not obedient, he was quick to dismiss any order he disagreed with, but he no longer pushed against the illusion as he once had, demanding to see behind the mirror. Maturity, perhaps? Maybe he had simply accepted, and this was his grudging defeat. But perhaps he knew, knew what Roy had been doing, but Roy had never given him the why. He'd considered it, but it would have been death for himself and Fullmetal back then, even more so now. So perhaps this was equivalent exchange, the way Fullmetal tracked his movements, appeared in odd places at odd times, leaned when he'd been standing straight before, but not in any direction he could recognize, and he probably deserved it, in a twisted way, but he had never, ever planned to drag Fullmetal down.

So he remained silent, took Fullmetal's behavior in stride, reminded himself not to get too close, because Fullmetal had set up his own rules to play by, and Roy was the one at loss, but he knew his puzzle was safe, not even Hughes or his people had all the pieces, and even if he did not know what Fullmetal did want, the reports he received also showed his enemies had not made a move on Fullmetal's family, had not gotten from Fullmetal what they wanted; he could not afford to pretend, but for now he wanted to pretend, so this, for the moment, was enough.

-.-

He shifted stiffly under the covers, the bandage was soaking through again, but he didn't feel like changing it. It was surprising, how close they'd gotten to him, but what he couldn't wrap his head around was that his enemies had been targeting Havoc. Tomorrow morning they would both be at work and no one would know that he had a gash in his side and Havoc had several nasty bumps from pulling them both to safety, but for now, he brooded in the silence and darkness.

There had been an interruption of some sort, a commotion that had distracted their attackers, but how had their attackers known he and Havoc would be there in that place at that time in the first place? He tried to keep his thoughts away from Edward, the only one close enough to him to know that didn't know, tried to keep his mind off the way the boy had been behaving since he'd returned, the mixed signals he'd sent, offering himself as a pawn, or as if trying to hide that he was someone else's pawn.

He hadn't wanted to trouble Hughes with this, none of the reports he'd received showed any evidence of Edward's presence, he was just jumpy, he told himself. But he knew he had been afraid, afraid of losing Hughes' trust, Edward's trust, afraid of facing the truth when he'd sworn never to run again. It had taken a torn uniform and bloodstained gloves to remind him of his balance, what was at stake. If it was Edward, there were ways the problem could be removed without compromising anyone, and he should have done so long ago, moved Fullmetal away from his proximity when he knew full well he had only been trying to convince himself he had not completely failed where the Elrics were concerned. If it was not Edward, someone had gotten close enough that they might very well have evidence of his plans. Either way, time was short, and he needed to act soon.

-.-

Rumors of war breaking out in the west were spreading like wildfire, and he knew grimly that they would soon be true. The letter lay innocently on his desk, thick and official, he was so preoccupied refreshing his memories of the western front that at first he did not process what he was reading.

The letter landed on his desk as his stomach went cold, was quickly snatched up and read again, hand shaking.

Proof of treason. Which would be exposed unless they came to a favorable agreement in the little discussion planned for a few days from now. He had planned to commit treason all along, that part did not surprise him. The shock came from the fact that the proof uncovered and laid out before him was true, and every single accusation could be backed up. As if someone had known all along and had only been waiting for him to get a bit farther before cutting him off. A promise that his men would be unharmed and none the wiser if he complied, and he knew, knew, they had no hope of success if they sprang their trap now, he knew they would follow him, but he had no intention of bringing them to hell with him.

Pacing, he read the list of names again, his men, Hughes and Gracia and Elysia, his contacts, the girls, and heart stopping, he saw the name buried unobtrusively in the middle.

He had no right to feel this relief, did not deserve to feel this glorious rush of blessing that perhaps he had not completely failed, but Edward's name on the list snapped everything into focus and he knew his goals now, knew what needed to be done. He knew it was true, Edward hadn't even been in his command when some of the events had occurred, and the people who had put together this letter obviously knew him well enough to know that he had been very fond of the Elrics despite appearances, and would protect them as his own. They had not counted on his very human doubt, his own paranoia in himself and in Fullmetal, to turn this drive into focus, one last chance to do things right.

Slipping the letter into a pocket, he sat down to plan.

-.-

It had been not long after he'd returned from Ishbal. He knew what he wanted to do but still had no idea how to really go about doing it, and it had made him reckless and hasty. The files had slipped from his hands as he'd stood there in shock, chances blown before he'd even begun, and he had only been able to hope that Maes would not do anything stupid to try to help him, because it was his fault, he'd brought this upon himself, and really, what kind of future Fuhrer would be dumb enough to be caught in the restricted section?

General Grumman had looked at him quietly over his glasses and asked steadily, "Tell me, Roy Mustang, what would you do if there was another civil war?"

He had sensed no deceit in the question, and if he was going to be executed as an idiot, he decided at least one person would know how he truly felt about the situation.

"I would stop it."

He must have made a laughable sight, still broken from his nightmares, a mess both inside and out. General Grumman had looked him over and said quietly, "Remember that."

The door closed silently, and shakily, he retrieved the files.

-.-

Hughes knew. He suspected Riza knew as well. Hughes had known from the beginning, seen him through the worst, and as such, could no longer comment on it because they both knew how every conversation would end. Instead, he invited Roy over for dinner, bothered him endlessly with updates on what Elysia was doing, and otherwise found reasons to constantly nose into Roy's quiet time. Riza sensed it but had never confronted him, she wordlessly reminded him with her presence, her actions, of why she disapproved and why she was here.

He had two goals.

They tied into one goal because he was determined that was the way it would go, but if he broke it down, in dreams he never told anyone about, there were two goals.

He would become Fuhrer, but he wanted it to be enough.

It would be enough, maybe, rushing head on to meet a red-eyed serial killer in the rainy streets of Central, enough to throw himself in front of the people he wanted to protect, enough to shoulder the blame, take the punishment, hide the evidence, leave them all behind, because he had chosen men that were loyal to himself, but more importantly, men that were loyal to his cause. He wanted to see everything through to the end, his friends did not deserve to have things end like this, but the only promise he had given them was his protection, and he knew they would go on without him, not just for his goal, but also their own. He'd hidden this second goal even from himself, but it was the best ending he could think of right now; they did not have the power to pull off the whole plan as it was, but he had enough allies to give them protection and to keep the rest of their plans alive. He had a private meeting with the Fuhrer in a week, a meeting in which the higher-ups were sure he had no cards left to play. Perhaps this could be another way to atone; maybe, maybe, it would be enough. If, nowhen, he succeeded, it would stop the war about to erupt, and he still had time to pull a few strings and ensure the right kind of upheaval would occur in its wake providing the next stage for their original plans. Perhaps, finally, in some other way, not scrawled out in chalk and paint and blood and tears and dust and sweat and alcohol and madness on his dorm room floor, selfishly, it would finally, finally, be enough.

-.-

The clock chimed nine, and he remembered what it had felt like in Ishbal, preparing your weapons, waiting for daybreak and the next attack, feeling so tired you didn't care if you were killed in your sleep or not, but ancient instincts reminding you that you would regret it better with your weapons ready than without.

It was still the same, and all these years later all he'd done was come full circle.

The banging on the door caused him to look up from where he was carefully clearing any incriminating evidence out of his library, ready for one last blaze in the stone fireplace.

"Edward," he said in surprise, and he realized he'd mentally been calling Fullmetal "Edward" more often in the last few days, perhaps in some pathetic attempt to construct a sense of the closeness he'd wished they had in return for the young man's belief in him. For Edward had been trying to help him, and he had only himself to blame if Ed's methods had resulted in more confusion than understanding. "Shouldn't you be off on that mission to Alembic?"

A strong fist twisted in his collar and he found himself suddenly dragged to eye level with Fullmetal.

"You are not going to that meeting alone tomorrow!" Fullmetal yelled, and he gaped, gaped openly, floored.

"Look, I know…I did this the wrong way, okay?" And Roy was at a loss, unable to even dredge up an accusatory question or even smirk that that was the one thing the Fuhrer would not be expecting him to do with all his men under watch liable to be picked off at any minute. He was at a loss and he didn't explain that he'd placed people to watch, to prove, without knowing what they would be looking for, that none of his people would be involved in the attack tomorrow, and what few allies he had among the higher ranks were ready to stop any retaliatory action towards his command.

He found himself being pushed roughly backwards, and stumbling, he tried to right himself, decide what to do about Edward who never made things easy and always came up at the last possible moment, but Fullmetal shoved him into his armchair roughly and growled, "Sit."

He obeyed, still blinking as Edward took the opposite seat and blocked the light from the table lamp for a moment. There was silence then, as Edward fidgeted for what he wanted to say, and Roy waited, ready to use anything Edward could come up with to turn him away again.

"When we got Al his body back," Fullmetal began, and Roy wondered if he was stalling, avoiding the topic, but he wanted to know what had happened when the Elrics had vanished, so he let it go with a nod.

Ed looked surprised, but shifted in his seat and continued, and Roy laughed inwardly to note how the boy's body language stated he was blocking Roy's access to the door.

"We gave more than enough this time." The boy's eyes darkened and Roy, almost unbelieving, wanted to ask how? What? What did you give that was worth more than body and soul? But Edward would stop if he did, so he held it in. "But the Gate never gives anything for free."

Gate?

"I thought I'd failed at first, we were both pulled in and I lost sight of Al." Roy nodded as Fullmetal shuddered and pulled a knee up on the chair. "But I saw the door open and Al get thrown out again, and I thought "Al's gonna kill me" but I didn't mind, really, Al was worth it."

He was confused now, even as Fullmetal's story was becoming clearer, and clearing his throat, he attempted to speak but was silenced with a flat look.

"It was dark inside the Gate, quiet. I kept waiting for it to tear me apart again, but none of those things made a move. And the Gate asked me what I wanted.

"I thought it was just my mind wandering, I didn't know it was the Gate because it didn't take on a form and speak to me like it did the first time. So I thought it was just something I'd come up with to think about, probable end of existence and all, and I realized Al was okay now, Winry and Granny Pinako would be okay, and hopefully teacher would be able to prevent Al from trying to do anything stupid. I wanted to see them again, say goodbye or something, but they already knew what we had been planning and I didn't really need to."

Edward looked Roy straight in the eye.

"I wanted to tell you," he said, "tell you and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes and Lieutenant Hawkeye and all the rest of the people what had happened to us and not to worry because we hadn't said anything to you when we set off, but really, you weren't too bad considering what could have happened to us, and you didn't really deserve never knowing."

He looked away.

"The Gate showed me…" Edward's voice slowed, and he rubbed his fingers on the arm of the chair. "It showed me part of a past and half of a future." Bright gold eyes challenged him to laugh, and mutely, he stared back.

"It showed me what was…and what might be…if I let it go like that."

Now that was pushing belief just a little too far, even if he had no idea what the Gate was but trusted Edward to know more about the darker side of alchemy than he did. "Wait a minute, you…what…why didn't you---"

"Who would have believed me? You don't believe me, I didn't believe me! I freaked Al out when I predicted what was going to happen, I thought they were just memories or something! Things always happened halfway and I didn't want to know, but I didn't know the end, either! The Gate left me wondering and I didn't know what to do!" Edward flumped back into the armchair and scrubbed his face.

"I knew you were planning something even before I came back but I didn't know what. The gate gave me a better idea but I still couldn't be sure." Fullmetal looked away then, and transfixed, Roy waited. "I—Al said—he said he would throw me out of the house if I didn't stop pacing around and do something about it like I wanted to." An annoyed huff. "Al isn't strong enough to travel yet, he couldn't come with me. And I didn't really know what I wanted to do or how to do it, I just knew that some things shouldn't be allowed to happen. So I started by watching you."

Edward matched Roy's raised eyebrow with one of his own and snorted. "You're always in the thick of things anyways, it was a good place to start. I've seen what you're trying to do Mustang, and while I don't always agree with your methods, I do agree with your goal and there are a lot worse people that I could be backing."

He was halfway to making a snarky comment about what a wonderful compliment that was when Edward's words fully sank in. He gaped for a split second, finger pointing in surprise, before he shut his mouth quickly with a snap. The first sentence that came out was, "Alphonse is going to kill me."

"Yes he will," Edward seemed almost cheerful. "But I told him it would be a lot easier for me to help keep you from getting killed than if I had to go and take out whoever offed you so I wouldn't feel so bad about all the effort I put into watching out for your sorry ass."

The sky was falling and he could only watch in wonderment as pieces crashed around him.

"Wait Fullmetal, so you're saying--"

"I went about it the wrong way, we're both idiots when it comes to this sort of thing," and Roy snorted as well, "but I'm not letting you go on your suicide mission alone tomorrow, Mustang. A bit of work and we can build on your plans--"

And he had to ask then, had to know even as he knew it might be better not to know—

"Full—Edward, this, tomorrow, do you--?"

He shook his head, almost violently. "No. I used up all my freebies. I almost missed it. I remembered some things Hughes was saying right before I left about how you'd been different in the office lately. Roy Mustang is too much of a bastard to give up, remember?" And it was a tight grin, unsure if he'd pushed things too far but charging in anyways, and Roy felt a well of something clean and warm and overwhelming flood through him.

Forgiven again, when he had no right to be. Someone up there must really hate him.

Smiling for what felt like the first time in months, he nodded. And if his voice was slightly hoarse, Edward had the decency not to notice.

"Fine, so what's your plan?"