Three loud knocks on the front door broke Roy's attention from the politics section of his Sunday newspaper. He hesitantly folded the paper and laid it gently on the table before going to the door, but he found himself a pleasant surprise once he laid eyes on his visitor.
"Hey, General."
"Ed, what a nice surprise! Come on in."
Roy reclaimed his old spot on the sofa, and Ed sprawled carelessly in an empty armchair. Roy leaned forward expectantly and asked, "Want some scotch?"
Edward looked at him incredulously. "At three in the afternoon? On a Sunday?"
"Well, I suppose you're right. How about a beer?"
Edward chuckled, eyes twinkling. Finally he raised his hands in mock defeat and said, "Alright, fine. But just one, though."
Roy grabbed a couple cold ones from his fridge and passed one to Edward, who took one sip and stared at the bottle, half-pouting disappointedly. Roy had already turned his up and taken a huge swig before he noticed the look on Edward's face.
"Something wrong with the beer? 'Cause I can always pull out the scotch…"
"No, no," Edward shook his head, smiling. "It's just that the beer in Germany was so much better. The flavor of it was unbelievable."
"Huh."
"What?"
"I never thought my world would be competing with yours."
Edward rolled his eyes. "Please, Mustang, haven't you realized? Our worlds have always clashed."
Roy laughed at that. After taking another good sip, he asked, "So tell me…what's so great about your brew?"
"Oh, man—we have this one amber red Vienna lager that has the most astounding flavor. It's bitter and yet barely sweet; apparently the sweetness comes from some sort of toasted, malted barley. It's one of the Oktoberfest favorites."
"Oktoberfest?"
"Yeah, it's a German holiday. Occurs late September to early October."
"What's the significance?"
"Eh, it's something to do with some royal marriage, but I really just know it as a time to drink as much beer as you can hold!"
"Sounds like my kind of holiday."
"You bet it is! Oh, and the food is to die for!"
"You would know," Roy teased, expecting to toss Edward off-balance for a moment. But Edward just snorted and continued.
"They've got roast pork and pretzels and my favorite…the white sausage. You can't beat it, Mustang; you can't beat it." Roy started to open his mouth to say something, but Edward cut him off. "And you would've loved to see the women who were serving us; they had on cute little German schoolgirl-type outfits or something. I've never seen anything like it."
"Huh…" Roy said again, dazed by Edward's excitement. Then he changed his tone back to his typical seductively teasing voice to question, "So did you land yourself one of those fine girls?"
Edward blushed slightly and for the first time since he'd talked to Roy that day, he was a little breathless when he answered, "Uh…well, I wasn't really into them, but I thought you might be—or would've been, if you would've been there…"
"You weren't into them? But I thought you said they were cute."
"No," Edward said warily, getting the most peculiar expression on his face. "I said their outfits were cute. But…they would've been your type of women, I think…"
"So what? My type of woman isn't good enough for you?" he joked harmlessly.
"No, that's not it."
Roy wasn't sure what nerve he'd hit, but he could see that he'd made Edward uncomfortable and decided to change the subject. "So what's the political situation like over there?"
Edward happily obliged to follow this line of conversation. "Well, you see, Germany is just this tiny nation in comparison to the rest of that world. But a huge part of that world was engaged in warfare for a long period of time known as World War I. At one point, Germany felt that the up-and-coming nation of power called the United States was going to join forces with France and Britain, who were fighting Germany on its Western front. Germany was also fighting against the largest nation, Russia, on its Eastern front at the same time."
"So, essentially, Germany was at a huge disadvantage."
"Exactly. So could you have blamed Germany for opening up submarine warfare on US trade ships?"
"Hmmm…interesting. I'll bet the United States had quite an opinion about that."
"To say the least. That move of Germany's caused the United States to officially join the war on France and Britain's side."
"But I don't understand; wasn't there some other move for Germany than to attack ships? I mean, that just seems like they were asking for it."
"Well, Germany had a feeling that the US would take a stand no matter what they did, so to avoid having to surrender, Germany decided to attack US trade ships in order to drain US power before it was too late to win back the Western front."
"Ah, I see…interesting military strategy. Did it work?"
"Nope. The US was still able to contribute enough soldiers and supplies to help defeat Germany. Then this League of Nations came together to write up a treaty to make Germany pay unaffordable reparations for the entire world war and limit them to only a hundred thousand troops."
"I assume the League of Nations was the group of nations that defeated Germany?"
"Pretty much. Anyway, Germans were embarrassed about being exploited like that, so they began looking for outlets, a way to get back at everyone. That's about when I got there."
"Dang," Roy shook his head incredulously. "That's quite a mess. But you still found time to party, huh?"
"Oh, did I ever! You see, some influential, pompous mug named Adolf Hitler started talkin' up all the rowdier crowds out there, telling 'em how great Germany is and convincing them that he could lead the nation back to its previous greatness. So everyone was happy and drinking up and feasting like there was no tomorrow; it was heaven for me! I'm just glad I got to leave before that Hitler guy really got something going."
"What was he about to do?"
"Well, it's hard to say. But it was going to be something big. You see, he gave Germany someone to blame the war on, and most everyone believed him."
"And who was that?"
"Jews. Gypsies, too, but mainly Jews. He claimed they were a race of parasites."
"…And Germans believed that?"
Edward nodded sadly. "Yeah. Their loyalty to him was bordering on sickness."
Silence followed. Suddenly Roy could picture a robotic mob following a dark shadow of this Hitler figure he couldn't make out, busting the windows of houses, sending innocent people fleeing, frightened for their lives. He could imagine bloodied corpses strewn about the streets high enough to wade through, clothes ripped and limbs twisted, somewhere in the night a lone baby's shrill cry, helpless to call back its dead mother.
"It would've ended up like the Ishbal Massacre, wouldn't it?" Roy asked.
"Yeah. Well, that's what I think, anyway. I mean, there were the angry mob and their fuehrer—"
"The fuehrer was there?"
"Come to think of it, yes, actually. But he wasn't Pride; he was a Jew named Mabusa. I was referring to Hitler; 'fuehrer' means 'leader' in German."
"Wait a minute, so you saw Pride… or his likeness?"
"Yeah, don't worry; he's harmless. And he's aware of Hitler's dislike of his race, so he'll go to America and be safe."
"Where's America?"
"It's the same thing as the United States."
"Oh," Roy shook his head. "I can't get over that one, though; how'd you react when you saw… uh… Mabusa, was it?" Edward snickered. "What, was I that far off from his name?"
"No, it's not that; you got his name. It's just…" Edward snickered again. "…when I first saw him, I chased him down and beat up his driver! Then I ended up having to drive for him!"
"Edward!" Roy scolded, but that just made him laugh more. Finally Roy's face softened and even let a sly smile slip through. "You just can't keep out of trouble, can you?" Edward shrugged, and Roy rolled his eyes. "Did you see anyone else's likeness?"
"Yeah, I saw Gracia. Hughes, too."
"You saw Hughes?" Roy asked, suddenly disconsolate.
"Hughes' likeness," Edward corrected carefully, wary of trodding on Roy's emotions. "He wasn't the same person at all. In fact, he joined the Nazi party."
"By Nazi—please tell me you don't mean he followed that…that monster…" he ground out, burying his face in his palm.
"Roy," Edward leaned forward as though he were going to reach out to comfort him. "It wasn't him, not your friend Hughes. They're two separate people."
Roy lifted the top half of his face from his palm, looking puzzled. Then he broke his distant gaze and turned to look at Edward. "Did you just call me 'Roy'?"
Edward was a little taken aback, not having noticed his error. "I, uh…sorry, sir…"
"No, it's okay; you just surprised me. I'm sorry I got so worked up; I just…I still miss Hughes a lot."
"I do, too. I appreciate him so much more now…" But upon seeing Roy begin to study him, he offered nervously, "But I'm sure I don't miss him as much as you do; I mean, he was your best friend and all, and I only knew him briefly…"
"Ed, you have a right to miss him, too. Anyone who knew him at all misses him now." He took a breath and exhaled loudly. "So how 'bout that scotch?"
"Shoot, maybe I'd better leave before you drown me in it! What are you, obsessed with that stuff?"
"No, no, stay. I won't offer it again," Roy promised, laughing. "Gee, what are you, some kind of saint? Can't handle a glass of sin?"
"No, it's just that I don't know anyone who drinks that stuff before six."
"Hmmm…it's not that I'm an alcoholic; I just like drinking when I'm with people I like."
"What?" Edward pretended to be alarmed, widening his golden eyes in mock horror. "You mean all that work I've done to get you to hate me was all for nothing? Oh," he groaned, pressing his flesh hand against his forehead. "I'm gonna hafta find another job…"
"So now you're leaving the military because I have alcoholic cravings whenever I see you?"
Edward's dramatic façade cracked a bit with a muffled laugh that he attempted to cover up as a cough. "Man, you must've really hated me when I was young; I never once saw a bottle near your office."
"Oh, god, you made me crave liquor more than ever when you were young…but I do believe that was for quite a different reason." Roy winked at him.
Edward hummed contentedly as he abstractedly scanned the label of his beer bottle. "Yeah, I get your drift. I was a real pain then."
"You really have grown up a lot," Roy said meaningfully, causing Edward to look back at him. Edward wasn't sure what he saw in his eyes—genuine recognition, perhaps—but it made him feel warm and a little proud. He remembered that look from the last time he'd seen Roy before he ended up in Germany, when Roy had offered to shake his hand for the first time, and he remembered that look haunting him as a hollow pain when he was in Germany wondering if he'd ever see the other side of the gate again.
"Thanks…it means a lot to hear that."
Roy frowned with realization. "You never really got to hear that much, did you?"
It took Edward a minute to get what Roy meant. "Oh… yeah, I guess not," he said somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. Suddenly he remembered why he originally stopped by and added, "Oh, General, I just remembered… there was something important I wanted to ask you."
"Sure, ask away."
"Well, uh… it's kind of a favor, I guess, not that you owe me anything, but… I'd feel so much better if you would—"
"Ed, you're rambling," Roy interrupted, slightly amused.
"Uh, okay, sorry… Anyway, I was wondering if you would be willing to keep me as one of your… indispensible subordinates."
"Indispensible? What exactly do you mean?"
"Like Hawkeye… and Havoc, Falman… you know, those guys. The ones you've kept with you for every transfer."
"Oh," he said, understanding. "But haven't I always kept you as my subordinate?"
"Well, I traveled a lot, then. And there was that one time I ran away, but that's not going to happen again. I guess this is more of a promise on my part… that I won't do that again if you promise to keep me with you." Edward was blushing furiously by this point and could only make scattered eye contact with his superior. Eventually he took comfort in hiding behind his bangs.
Roy laughed softly. "What makes that so hard for you to ask?"
"It's just that… uh… I dunno, actually…"
"Alright, that's fine, then. I just kind of don't like the thought of it."
"Oh, well it's not like you have to; I was just wondering if you would…"
"I just don't like the thought of… of… taming you."
First, Edward was alarmed. Then he became irritated, then furious, and finally mischievous, a look Roy recalled well from Edward's younger days. He waited, a little on edge, for Edward's response as a slow, sideways smirk stealthily spread from a corner of Edward's mouth to his eyes.
"I don't like the thought of taming you, either, Mustang."
Roy's eyebrows shot up, and he asked somewhat reservedly, "Should I start drinking?"
"No; it's more fun when you don't, if I remember right."
"You liked seeing me angry?"
"Are you kidding?" Edward asked incredulously. "Getting you angry was the only entertainment I ever got at the office!"
"…You got me angry on purpose?" he said, his voice dangerously low.
"Mmhmm!" Edward affirmed proudly. "Did a good job, didn't I?"
For a moment, Roy appeared angry, but then his devilishly heart-stopping grin found his face for the first time in years, and he felt the cocky thrill of a new challenge against another blown up ego well up within him like a savory poison. In a voice that only a select handful of attractive women knew, he said, "Well, I can see this is going to be interesting. We'll just have to see who tames the other."
"You're on, General."
Roy had never felt so young in his life.
Edward's face gentled as he regained his maturity, and in a soft voice he said, "Well, I'd better get going; I hadn't planned on staying long."
Roy's expression softened, too. "You should at some point; it's nice getting to know you aside from work. You've really become a fine gentleman."
Edward shyly turned his head to the side. "I will. How's next Sunday at about this time?"
"Sounds great. I'll escort you out."
The two walked to the front door, and as Roy opened it, Edward turned to him, a sad look in his eyes. He said, "Forgive me for this, sir." The next thing Roy knew, Edward had him wrapped in a hug. Roy returned the favor more gingerly as Edward murmured, "It's really good to see you again."
Once he let go, he ducked away and walked briskly to his car, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He left Roy standing in the doorway, a distorted half-smile on his face as he tried to figure out if he was creeped out or happy. Eventually he closed the door, shaking his head, and he retired to his newspaper, suddenly discovering that Amestrian politics were not so fascinating to him anymore.
