Disclaimer: I do not own any of what you are about to read and if I did, I'd be a magic Cow with glasses named Hiromu Arakawa.

Elizabeth Rebecca Mustang was a smart teenage girl. She noticed the way girls her age carried themselves differently around guys her age. She noticed the way her older brother would grin in what he believed a charming way to any passing girl who met his standards. She noticed the way girls would interact together and how it differed from the way they interacted with boys.

She noticed the way her family was regarded as a top notch family. She noticed the way everyone her age looked at her in awe and jealousy and she noticed the way some people would talk about her behind her back. She noticed the way it unnerved them to be in the same room as her – she was the daughter of Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang.

The President and First Lady of the country they all lived in.

But that wasn't what was terrifying. No, that was only intimidating.

What was terrifying was what her parents were capable of. Her mother was an expert marksmen, having done well enough in a past Civil War to be named "The Hawk's Eye." Her father was the renowned Flame Alchemist, and with just one snap of his fingers in the right moment, a flame – large or small – would erupt and cause any amount of damage.

She noticed how her father would always snap the fingers of his right hand, a hand that held a scar that resembled the transmutation circle on his ignition gloves. She noticed the way her mother would glance at that hand and cringe. She noticed the way her father would sometimes place his hand on her mother's back and caress it, as if it was painful for her for him to be touching it and painful for him as well.

She noticed the way her parents would share a single look, and say nothing, then look away with smiles on their faces. She noticed the way they never seemed to need words to communicate, and she noticed that her parents were always somehow keeping in touch.

She noticed the way her father's eyes would linger on her mother's neck some days, a look of pure pain throughout his eyes. She noticed how her father would wrap her mother in his arms for minutes, and her mother would let him, clinging back. She noticed how her mother would trace his eyelids, and he would give a shaky smile before releasing her.

She noticed that whenever her mother kissed her father's cheek she would whisper something, something at a volume so low only those two could hear it. She noticed how her parents never seemed to need to say anything to one another, ever.

She noticed how they never said "I love you" to the other.

And that observation unnerved her.

Her parents had never said "I love you" to each other in front of their children, never out of nowhere, never whispered nor outright, and one night while the family of four were eating together, she said softly, with her head down, "Are you together because you have to be or because you want to be?"

Her brother looked at her with a look of shock. Her father dropped his fork so fast that she winced, and her mother kept her eyes trained on her. There was a silence, a never ending silence that was broken with a quick, "What are you asking?" from her father.

Elizabeth looked up and met her father's gaze. His eyes were wide and his jaw was tight. His hand was fisted on the table, and when she lowered her gaze to it, she saw the scar of the transmutation circle in clear contrast against the pale of the taught skin.

"You…you never say 'I love you' to each other. Most people who are married do, and if they don't, it ends badly. Marissa's parents were divorced. Kylie's parents say it every day."

More silence.

Her brother looked down at his food, his jaw taught just like his father's. Maes Christopher Mustang was three years older than her sister, and he knew that his sister noticed things. This had happened to be one of them.

She could feel a soft apology forming in her throat, could feel her limbs tightening in readiness to pick up her half eaten meal and walk to her room, not eating anymore of it. She could feel the hurt emanating from her parents and it shamed her to know she'd done that.

She could feel herself ready to cry, but not ready to cry in front of her parents.

"Lizzie," Maes started, but a quick and sharp look from their mother stopped him before he could say much else. Elizabeth met her mother's gaze and Riza stood, picking up her own plate and walking away for a moment. She returned then and sat down, folding her hands on the table and keeping a steady look on her daughter.

The daughter who reminded her so much of herself, quiet and reserved and intelligent, sending out emotions just a tiny bit. Cracking under the absolute terror. Aiming to be the best she could possibly be for the gain of those around her.

And she deserved an answer.

"Lizzie," Riza said, her voice stern and soft. Elizabeth looked up into the red brown eyes of her mother, and she saw the hidden determination in them. She noticed it.

"Your father and I. We love each other very much. We've been through Hell and back together. I've nearly lost him and he's nearly lost me. We've fought side by side, back to back, always under the watchful gaze of the people we trusted to serve. Always under the watchful eyes of our enemies.

"We've never given up on the other. We've never not supported the other. We've never hated the other, no matter how much our younger selves with disagree with this. We've been poked at and prodded and stabbed and had our throats slit" – her father winced here – "and we have nevernot loved the other through any of it."

Elizabeth swallowed, her mother's words cutting her deeply and Maes glanced at his little sister. She noticed the aching truth in his eyes. He knew what their parents had been through, and he'd known for so long now. She could see that.

She looked straight at her father then, and asked bluntly, "What Hell did you go through?"

Her father sighed and placed his head in his hands, mumbled, "It was bad enough when Maes found out, and now you as well, Lizzie?"

"Dammit, Dad! Mom! What did you go through? What do I have to be proud of you for? What can I say I love my parents for, besides being the topnotch people in the country! What can I possibly do to make people see that I love you for who you are as parents and not who are you as the leaders of this country! What is that Maes knows that I don't!"

"Watch your language, Lizzie, first of all."

She shut her mouth at the words of her mother and allowed a small nod.

"Lizzie," Roy said, and her slightly ashamed yet mostly determined gaze locked with her father's. When he was sure his daughter had calmed slightly, he said a voice reminiscent of when he used to tell her stories, "Your mother and I have been together since childhood."

He launched into a story, a story of how he'd grown up with her, of how he'd seen the back of her mother and the tattoo that resided there, of how he'd burnedit at her request. She listened as he explained the events of the Ishvalan Civil War, and what had followed.

She listened as he said, "She told me she'd follow me, even through Hell." That made her smile softly, hidden behind her hands as she fought of shocked noises and choked sobs. She listened as he told her of how he'd come to meet the family friends, Edward and Winry Elric and Edward's brother, Alphonse. He told her of how she'd keep him on track, never allowing him to stray so she wouldn't have to shoot him.

She noticed that as he spoke, the closer he got to certain moments of the story his voice would waver for a moment before steadying. Parts like when a Homunculus named Lust had nearly ended him, how her mother had reacted to it, and how he'd gotten the scar on his hand.

She would look at her mother and see her head laying low, listening with shut eyes as he recounted the tale. Elizabeth listened as he reached a point, a point that was obviously terrible for the both of them, in which she learned her mother had survived having her throat slit open.

She listened as she learned that her parents could tell each other things with just movements of their eyes, and it was then she realized they'd always been saying "I love you" to each other. Just never for the people who didn't understand the complexity of their relationship to know.

She learned her father had been blind for a better part of the month before being allowed to have the sense of sight again, and soon after he'd set on the path on helping to make the country a better one. A democracy.

And learned everything she could up the point of her birth.

When the story stopped, Elizabeth stood, walked around to her parent's side of the table, and launched herself into their arms, crying. "I love you," she sobbed into them. Her mother wound her arms around her, and her father around them.

It was from that night that Elizabeth noticed that the looks and the smiles following when her parents locked eyes were them saying, "I love you." And she would smile. She would smile and she would feel warm on the inside, knowing her parents deserved to be able to say it to each other, after everything they'd been through.

And when someone would actually notice that Roy and Riza Mustang never said "I love you" out loud, Elizabeth Rebecca Mustang would reply with contentment, "It's because they don't have to."

AN: I don't really know how to explain this.

It just sort of...pushed it's way into being actual words and this was the result.

And I have a feeling Lizzie and Maes shall be making an appearance again.

Yeah.

ENJOY.

- Kim