January 5th, 1982

Brigadier General Calvin Fischer tried not to yawn as he left the meeting room at the end of the day, and walked back towards his office. Yawning was not professional. Of course, neither was the slightly relaxed pace he was using to get back to his office, but at the very end of the day he doubted anyone would notice. If they did, they wouldn't say anything to a superior officer. Or at least, no one but the State Alchemists would, and then only in the privacy of the office without the regular military officers to hear.

"Rushing home I see," Sara Heimler's familiar voice coming up behind him made Cal pause and turn.

"Or at least away from a day of meetings," Cal commented glibly. "That's literally all I've done today, sit in on one meeting after another. I've decided to rescind the thank you I gave you the day you gave up this job, Twilight."

Sara laughed. "Sorry, Whitewater, but I think it was a good trade."

"That's because you got the Training program." These days, Cal would have given a lot to have the time to spend working with the upcoming and current State Alchemists in that program, instead of overseeing their missions. While Marcus Kane was still technically their superior, his own duties didn't allow for nearly as much oversight of the State Alchemists as he had preferred, and a lot of that rested more on Cal now more than ever.

"You should join us for a sparring session sometime," Sara suggested with a chuckle as she fell into step beside him. Cal kept moving towards the office.

"If you can manage to schedule it before four in the morning or after dinner, maybe I'll find time." Cal tried not to grumble too loudly. "And if it's not a weekday, or a weekend evening. I haven't had a free evening in over two months." If it wasn't accompanying Alyse to some gathering or dinner, it was a State dinner, or an auto-mail appointment, or late night planning meeting, or Gloria's dance practices and recitals, or getting Charlie to sit down and do his homework, or a PTA meeting, or a conference with a teacher. There was always something going on.

"You do look pretty bushed," Sara admitted, her expression softening just a little. "Maybe you should take a page out of the Flame's book and make your subordinates work harder."

Cal chuckled. "Are you really suggesting I should shirk my duties?"

"Are you shirking if they get done?" Sara asked, her expression a little too innocent to be believable.

"Alyse would say so." Cal shrugged and changed the subject. "Do you have that report for me on the latest evaluation results on your students?" The State Alchemy exam was coming up in the next couple of months, and so were officer evaluations.

"Right here." Sara pulled it out of the case under her arm and handed it over as they reached the office door. "What do you think I hunted you down for?"

"To heckle me?" Cal suggested.

Sara laughed. "Okay, maybe that too. You just look like you could use it. You're still on for dinner Sunday, right?"
Cal nodded. "Alyse reminded me this morning, and yesterday morning. I promise we won't forget."

"Good, cause Franz can't wait to fire up the grill. He picked up some really nice tri-tip at the meat market and wants to experiment with a marinade using some Xingese pear sake."

Suddenly, dinner on Sunday sounded far more interesting. Cal grinned. "Who am I to miss out on culinary genius?"

The rest of Cal's afternoon was almost as hectic as work had been as he drove home from HQ, battling what proved to be particularly bad evening traffic thanks to a fender-bender on the road halfway home that clogged up the lanes in both directions. Cal wove through and found a side street, but it added ten minutes to the drive.

Thankfully, it was Friday.

When Cal got home, he parked in the garage, and went inside and up to the living room. "Hello?" he called out and sniffed the air. Something was baking.

"Welcome home, Dad," Gloria called back, her pretty dark-curled head coming around the kitchen corner.

"Hey, Sweetie." Cal hung up his uniform jacket and began to pull off his boots. "What are you making?"

"Triple chocolate chip cookies, for our bake-sale tomorrow." His fourteen-year-old daughter came out of the kitchen. "We're raising money to help pay for the decorations for the spring dance."

School dances… Cal tried not to think about those. Just as he tried not to think about the fact that his daughter was almost through middle school, and that she was already developing curves that would rival her mother's. "Well they smell amazing," he assured her. "I'm sure you'll sell tons of them."

"I made a few for us too," she promised. "They're still cooling."

"Great. Where's your brother?" Cal asked, mildly concerned about the fact that the house was so quiet. When Charlie was home, usually there was noise coming from somewhere. If there wasn't, that usually just meant a larger noise coming. Having a twelve-year-old son was definitely a learning experience.

"Upstairs," Gloria told him. "He borrowed a copy of the new Captain Amestris comic from Davy, I think. He's been reading since we got home."

At least he was home. Cal often wondered, if Gloria didn't walk past Charlie's school on the way home, and they walked together, if his son would even make it home. He'd probably be up a tree somewhere. That had happened a few times already; trees, power poles, in mud puddles, running around with his friends. "That's good. So, for this bake sale, do you need me to drop you off tomorrow?" He kept any reluctance out of his voice. The last thing he wanted was for his kids to ever feel like he didn't want to help them do the things they wanted to do, however much he might personally be inconvenienced or not in the mood. "That's a lot of cookies."

"No, it's fine," Gloria replied. "Mom said she'd drive, and Carletta's mom and Vara's dad are going to be the sale chaperones."

"Oh." Cal wasn't sure why he felt slightly irritated. After all, he was off the hook for a morning run out. But he hadn't known anything about who would be chaperoning and, he thought, he had sort of expected to be asked. Up until this year, he had been asked to help out almost every time there was a weekend or evening school activity. "I'm sure that's fine."

"It'll be great," Gloria beamed as she turned to head back into the kitchen. Cal followed. "Vara's dad actually owns a catering business, so he's donating a bunch of his pastries to the sale, and Carletta's mom is just the coolest! She's a sales expert, and she used to be a model. She could sell anything I bet."

"The coolest, heh." What makes her the coolest? Cal reached out for one of the cookies cooling on a tray and took a bite. Warm, rich chocolate flooded his mouth. Yes, his daughter had definitely inherited her mother's cooking genes. "So," he asked, not even sure why he was asking, and feeling just a little silly. "Am I cool?"

Gloria looked up at him, surprise in her big eyes at first, then she gave a little shrug. "Well I think so but… if you mean what everyone else thinks, no, not really, Dad. Sorry."

What was that supposed to mean? Cal tried not to frown. "What about your Mom?"

"Well yeah, everyone thinks Mom's the living end actually. They even like it when she chaperone's school stuff."

"But not me." Cal couldn't have said why it mattered so much. He'd never cared in school if he was cool, or in his younger days. Except that, he had been. Everyone liked a bit of a rogue; a rebel, a bit of a flirt.

Gloria's expression turned momentarily uneasy. "No. I think they're mostly afraid of you."

"Afraid of me?" Cal blurted, surprised. "Why would they be afraid of me?"

"Well the girls think you're too serious, and the guys… mostly they're just intimidated. I mean, you do usually show up in uniform, and you're a general and older and all that." Gloria looked contrite. "I don't really agree with them. You might want to lay off those."

"What?"

Gloria nodded at the cookie in his hand. "The cookies. At your age you really should watch your weight better."

Cal felt heat in his face. "Now see here young lady, what makes you think-"

"I'm just telling the truth." Gloria surprised him by cutting him off. Her tone wasn't rude, just imminently sensible. "Don't you have evaluations next month? You keep talking about them over dinner."

Well they did. Cal had been part of the planning process, and would have to assess a large majority of those evaluations himself. But that didn't mean he liked having his daughter tell him what to do. "That doesn't give you the right to tell me what I—"

A sudden high-pitched shout came from downstairs in the garage.

"Was that Mom?" Gloria asked, as startled as Cal as they both left the kitchen.

"It sounded like her." Though what would make Alyse shout like that Cal didn't want to imagine. Had someone crashed outside? A mugger? That was stupid. It was too early in the evening for most prowlers. "Alyse?" he shouted as he pulled open the door down to the garage. "Are you all right?"

"All right?" her high-pitched shout, almost a shriek, came incredulously up the stairs before she appeared, dragging a very contrite and startled looking Charlie by his ear. Alyse looked furious and upset.

Cal looked incredulously at his son, who was supposed to be upstairs. "What did Charlie do?"

"Do?" Alyse rounded and looked at Cal. "I just caught your son downstairs, and do you know what he was doing? Do you?"

"If I did, he wouldn't have been doing it," Cal pointed out, deflecting the implied blame. "But what was it?"
"Smoking!" Alyse glared daggers as she rounded back on Charlie. "Where did you get it?" she demanded. "Tell me right now, Charles Fischer!"

Cal looked at his son, stunned into silence.

Charlie swallowed. His face had gone pale. His eyes flickered from Gloria to Cal, then quickly to his mother, then Cal again.

"Charles!"

"Better spit it out, Charlie," Cal said firmly, though without Alyse's theatrics. He hadn't ever seen her quite this upset about any of Charlie's prior misadventures. Usually it was Cal losing his head if anyone.

Charlie looked down at the ground. "I got it out of Dad's sock drawer."

All female eyes went to him, and Cal suddenly wished he were elsewhere. Gloria looked disbelieving. Alyse… Alyse was furious. "What do you mean you got it out of your father's sock drawer?" She was demanding the answer of her son, but she was looking Cal straight in the eye.

"I did!" Charlie squeaked. "Honest!"

Alyse's pretty features had gone dark. "Was that the only one you took?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Charles…go to your room. You're grounded. Gloria… make certain he goes."

The children were barely out of line of sight before the full fury of hurricane Alyse hit Cal instead. The worst part was, she had stopped shouting. "Would you like to tell me how our son found a cigarette in your sock drawer, given you quite over ten years ago?"

I'd like to know why he was nosing around in my sock drawer. "Calm down, 'Lyse," Cal said as calmly as he could manage, fighting to keep his own temper in check at the accusing tone. "They've been in there for years. I'd forgotten I even had them."

Her expression remained skeptical. "How many years?"

"Oh, geez," Cal rolled his eyes. "I have no idea." Less than ten, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "Why are you shouting at me? Charlie's the one in trouble."

"Only because he found something that shouldn't have been in the house." Alyse was actually quivering with anger and, Cal realized, distress. She was really upset.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'll get rid of the pack if there's any left," Cal assured her, trying to salvage the situation. He wasn't happy with Charlie either, but he could think of far worse things to have happen to a kid, and he full intended to talk to his son and find out what was up… later, when he wasn't being accused of lying or negligent parenting. Besides, if he hadn't found it here, he probably would have somewhere else. He didn't say that to Alyse either. "And I'll talk to him."

"You can have your turn when I'm done." Alyse turned her back, still bristling like a cat in a sage silk dress suit. "I can't believe this! I mean he's done some risky things, but nothing like this." Her voice broke slightly, like a half-swallowed sob.

"It's all right," Cal moved in to calm her, his arms going out to encircle her from behind. "Boys can be-"

Alyse went stiff under his hands and spun on him. "Don't you tell me it's all right! Don't you tell me he's just a boy. This is serious and I can't believe you're not more upset that he'd do something so stupid, and disgusting and…"

"All right!" Cal shouted over her. Enough already. "I get the point. Now will you stop shouting like a banshee and pull it together!"

For a moment he thought Alyse had swallowed her tongue. Her mouth worked for several seconds without a sound coming out of it. Finally, she stopped turning purple, though her expression still seemed to say that this was all Cal's fault, though how it was supposed to be he wasn't entirely certain. "I'm going to talk to Charles." With that, she turned and vanished up the stairs.

Cal counted to twenty before he followed. He'd start with that damned sock drawer and make sure it held nothing but socks. Forget cool. Right now I'd settle for not being accused of incompetent parenting.

By the time Charlie was in bed –and thoroughly grounded for the next week- and Gloria was in her bath, and things had calmed down enough for Alyse to try and get some last minute evening work done, her brain was far too frazzled to focus. Cal had vanished with some excuse about needing to pick up milk, leaving her alone with her frustration and her guilt.

Finding Charlie down in the garage with that…thing… had been one of the worst moments of her life as a parent; trumped only by the occasional visit to the emergency room for things like the time Charlie had needed stitches after climbing a particularly old tree he had been told to stay out of, or the black eye from skateboarding and running into a pole. But this had been something completely different. Her baby… she wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready for her son to be a teen, or to start doing typical boy trouble things. Gloria, bless her daughter, had twice the common sense of most girls her age, and the worst thing she might do would be forget to clean her room, or leave a dish in the sink.

Charlie… Lately Charlie made her want to pull her hair out.

Alyse gave up on trying to do anything else and went to get ready for bed. She washed her hair, dried it, and then went to her walk-in closet to pull out a nightgown. Half way there, she diverted to Cal's drawers and, feeling mildly guilty about that too, opened the sock drawer. She was slightly relieved to find only socks. It still made her furious to think that there had been cigarettes in there, and she hadn't known. Had he really forgotten? Or, the thought niggled in her brain, had he just never really quit and hadn't told her? Is that why he's always been so particular about his socks?

The door to the garage closed downstairs, and Cal's familiar footsteps crossed the living room, then the kitchen briefly. At least he actually got milk. Then they were on the stairs.

Alyse went back to the closet.

"I got milk," Cal said as he entered the room.

"Good." She tried to keep her tone neutral. "Charlie's in bed."

"Gloria's doing homework," Cal replied, and she heard the bed creak a little as Cal sat down. In the corner of the mirror hanging by the closet door, Alyse could see him sprawled out on the bed, still half dressed, shoes and jacket off. He was eating one of Gloria's cookies.

Alyse cringed. "Crumbs."

Cal sat up, but he looked annoyed. "After the evening we've had, you're worried about crumbs?"

"No, I'm not." Alyse's hands stopped on her thickest, longest fleece nightgown, which she yanked off the hanger before turning around and glaring at him. "I'm worried about finding other things that don't belong in the house."

Cal's scowl made it clear she didn't have to get any clearer. "I told you, they're old. I forgot they were in there."

"You quit," she pointed out. "Over ten years ago."

"So then why are you grilling me about this now?" Cal's frown deepened. "I thought Charlie was the one you were mad at, and he's already been punished."

"Charlie wasn't the one who brought it home." A fact she wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved about or not. "What did you do with the rest of them?"

"I threw them out, outside," Cal gestured towards the door. "Now why don't we settle down and try and find something good about the rest of the evening? Just be grateful he didn't get the whole thing, and it wasn't something worse."

"Grateful! Are you even taking this seriously?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice, one that Alyse had never been afraid of, though she knew it made his subordinates cower the few times he'd used it elsewhere.

"Well it just seems to me that maybe you don't see this as serious at all. You're treating it like it's not that big a deal." Alyse walked towards the bed, dropping the nightgown on it. "This is our son we're talking about after all, not you."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Cal came to his feet. "That I don't care about my son's health and well-being? Don't tell me you really believe that?"
Alyse blinked, startled, and looked at the anger in his eyes. "No. No… I'm sorry." She rubbed her face with both hands, and felt guilty… again. This was just not going right. "That is not what I meant to say. I'm just upset…and confused. Charlie's never done something of this magnitude before. I'm…"

"Afraid it's the start of something worse?" Cal asked, though her apology seemed to have a defusing effect. "He's twelve, 'Lyse. Boys do stupid things. They also learn from stupid things… at any age. I'm sorry." He held his hands open palms up in an apologetic gesture.

Alyse fell into the open space between his arms, her frustration at war with the need for comfort from her husband. His arms closed around her. "You did quit, didn't you?"

"Oh for heaven's… yes, I did," Cal sighed, though he sounded exasperated even as he hugged her. "I haven't bought them in years. Now let it go, all right?"

"All right," she agreed. Nagging him now for something that had been done, and forgotten, years ago, was hardly fair. "I miss when they were little. Pre-school was so much easier."

"Was it?" Cal chuckled dryly. "I remember spending an awful lot of time explaining Charlie's antics to his teachers."