"Get back here!"

Roy was just leaving the cafe when he heard the shout. Down the street, two men were running in his direction, chased by a young woman. One of the men carried a pair of sunglasses, holding them up like a victory banner.

As the men passed Roy, he snapped his fingers and they were engulfed in flames.

Their screams echoed through the streets, until the flames were drowned out by a wave of water. The woman who'd been chasing them men approached then, picking up the sunglasses from where they'd been dropped amidst the flames. Seeing that they were unharmed, she put them on and turned to Roy.

"That was hardly necessary. I could have stopped them without resorting to melting their flesh."

"The damage is superficial. They'll be fine in a couple of weeks." Roy answered, nudging one of the groaning men with a foot, "If you value what's left of your flesh, you'll leave now. And if I catch you bothering anyone again, this young woman won't be able to protect you."

He watched them get to their feet and stumble away, then turned back to the woman before him. She spoke before he could.

"Regardless of whether or not I approve of your methods, thank you. I do appreciate the help."

She pulled the glasses away from her eyes just enough to look at Roy over the rims.

"These were a gift from someone close to me. I couldn't bear it if I lost them."

"A gift from a lover, perhaps?" Roy grinned, and the woman laughed.

"Nothing so superficial. No, they were a gift from my father, the last before he died. I cherish them. They're the last piece of him that I have."

The woman's emerald eyes darkened for a moment, and she pushed the glasses back up to cover them.

"Anyway, I'm late for a meeting. Please excuse me."

"Don't I at least get to know the name of the damsel in distress?" Roy asked as the woman started to walk away, and she stopped.

"Sorry, I'm not a fairy tale kind of girl," She said, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully, "You can call me Silverlake – it'll be true soon enough anyway. See ya around, Flame."

And with that Roy was left staring after the girl, wondering whether he had truly saved her at all.

...

"So did you hear? Rachel's back! She arrived on the morning train!"

Roy was in his office, listening to his best friend gush about his sister.

"Can you believe it? Little Rae, beating out all those other applicants and impressing the Fuhrer with her alchemy! I knew she'd knock 'em dead!"

"I thought you didn't want her in the military." Roy quipped, and Maes sobered for a moment.

"Well, that was when Dad died. I was all she had left - I had to protect her. But just look at how she's thrived! She just-"

Roy stopped listening. In his mind, he replayed the conversation with "Silverlake". He was still trying to figure out where he knew her from.

"...they were a gift from my father, the last before he died."

"Before he died..." Roy murmured aloud, "Is it possible..?"

"Is what possible, Roy?"

"Do you have a picture of Rachel?"

"Do I have..? Only about a dozen! Here, look!"

In about five seconds, Roy was drowning in pictures of Rachel. He fished through them until he found a current one, taken within the last few months. Bright green eyes glittered beneath a fringe of black hair. Emerald eyes.

"Of course, why didn't I see it?"

"See what, Roy?" Maes asked, moving to look over his friend's shoulder at the photo.

"The Hughes' eyes. They're a family trait. I should have known... I can't believe I didn't recognize it..."

"What? You mean you've already seen her? Where?"

Roy related his meeting earlier.

"I can't believe someone tried to hurt her!" Maes growled, "Who was it? I want names, Roy!"

"Calm down, Hughes. I roasted them, okay? And they didn't actually hurt her, just stole from her. Anyway, I'm more interested in why she didn't just tell me her name. What's this Silverlake business about..?"

"Silverlake?" Maes echoed, "Oh, that's her State Alchemist title. She talked to the Fuhrer, and he said that she could use that title if she passed the exam. You remember that her alchemical affinity was to silver and water, right?"

"Hm, right... I'd almost forgotten. It's been a long time. Silverlake, huh? It suits her."

"Doesn't it? It fits her perfectly! And she came up with it herself! Is she a genius or what?"

Roy just shook his head with a weary smile. He was used to his friend's gushing.

...

As Roy left the office that night, he saw Rachel waiting outside the front gate.

"Hey, Flame."

"Silverlake. What are you doing here so late?"

"Maybe I was waiting for you."

"Or your brother?"

Rachel raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Her sunglasses rested on top of her head, acting as a headband for her slightly messy hair.

"Why didn't you tell me you were back, Rae?"

"Oh, so you do remember me?" Rachel laughed, "Or did you talk to Maes?"

"Well, I knew I'd seen you somewhere before, but it was talking to Maes that helped me figure it out."

"Aw, I'm disappointed. But its alright. After all, you must rescue damsels in distress everyday - what's one more?"

"You're more than a damsel in distress to me, Rae. You know that."

Rachel sobered at his serious tone, and blushed when he slipped an arm around her waist.

"So," He continued casually, "Impressed the Fuhrer enough to earn your choice of a title, huh? Nice work."

Rachel smiled then, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked. It had been a long time, years in fact, but she remembered this. The casual friendship, the fun, easy banter.

"Well, you know what Dad always said; 'if something's worth doing-"

"'-its worth doing right.'" Roy finished, and they both laughed.

"I guess I just didn't know how not to do my best. If I'd failed, I'd have been furious with myself."

"Well you definitely didn't fail. Good job, Rae."

He pressed a light kiss to her temple. He'd always done that when she was a kid, always kissed the top of her head or her forehead or something. Just like her father had done before he died. She'd always accepted it as a gesture of support, like it would have been from her dad or Maes.

After the initial attraction upon first meeting him, her feelings had developed along a more sibling-style path. She looked up to him as a brother. And he always looked after her, up until the day she left Central to further her studies. Even after that, they kept in contact through letters, and messages passed through Maes. But it was different when she was so far away.

Now that she was back, she remembered just how it had felt before she left. She felt safe when she was with him. Protected. And even over the distance, he still remained her best friend.

It was good to be back.

Fin