October 5th, 1966

Even though she hadn't worked in the workshop regularly since she was a teenager, there was something comforting about the sights and smells of Rockbell Auto-mail. Elicia sat in the little office with the door open so she could hear the sound of people working in the other room. Another few columns and the books for the last month would be balanced. She had been quite happy to take on the task part-time now that Winry had cut back her personal work hours. It gave Elicia something easy to do that got her out of the house sometimes and it was helpful.

It was temporary, she knew, but it would be a while before anyone else aside from Winry actually took over the business. Probably, Elicia speculated, it would remain in Winry's name until she passed. Auto-mail wasn't a job to her; it was something she loved. Though that didn't mean she enjoyed doing all the paperwork.

"Hey Aunt Elicia, working late?"

Elicia looked up and chuckled when she saw Ethan in the doorway. "Not really. Off early? What are you doing here?"

"Getting a finger adjusted," Ethan shrugged, then chuckled. "I had a patient try and bite me today. Went for the wrong hand."

"Kid huh?" Ouch!

Ethan nodded. "Yep. Brattiest ten-year-old I've ever seen. He's lucky he didn't break a tooth."

"That's for sure," Elicia agreed. "Could you have fixed the tooth if he had?" she asked curiously.

"Oh sure," Ethan grinned. "Though I'd have had to charge his mother for a dental procedure."

"You'd have enjoyed that wouldn't you?" Her nephew did occasionally prove to have Edward's wicked sense of humor.

"You bet I would!" Ethan grinned. "It would help pay for a good present for Trisha's birthday." Sara's daughter was turning twelve in two days.

"You have something special in mind?" Elicia asked. She and Al had already picked out presents for their great-niece.

"Well what would you get a girl who's almost a teenager and also an alchemist?" Ethan asked.

Elicia smirked. "Well Al wanted to get a present that was more for Sara and Franz; a leash."

Ethan erupted in chuckles. "Not a bad idea, though I'm pretty sure Trisha would object. No, I picked her up a couple of books on alchemy I think she'll enjoy. They're not ones Sara owns copies of yet either."

"You'll make your sister jealous," Elicia replied.

"Maybe," Ethan shrugged. "I figure she can borrow them from her daughter if she's interested. Lia got her hair supplies; decorative ties and scarves and things," he added with a slight roll of his eyes. He was still smiling though.

Elicia looked back down at the figures in front of her. "Given how long Trisha's hair is getting, and how much she enjoys playing with it, that's a great gift." Naturally Ethan wouldn't have ever considered that kind of present.

Ethan looked slightly abashed. "I guess it is. You'd think by now I'd be used to getting women gifts right?"

"Sometimes it's hard to cross coordinate mother gifts, sister gifts, daughter gifts and such and figure out what applies to which ages," Elicia smiled kindly. "At least buying for the boys in our family is easy. The majority of you are alchemists."

"Though what do you do when we all have the same things and nothing left to buy?" Ethan challenged.

Elicia shrugged. "I don't know. When that actually happens, I'll tell you."

October 7th, 1966

There were days that Sara wished there was less yard work to do at home, and then days like this when she was grateful for the large yard around their home. Her daughter's twelfth birthday party was a large and raucous one. Trisha wasn't one of the popularkids, but she did have a lot of friends she had wanted to invite and school friends on top of the family always made for a big party.

Decoration amounted to blue and purple balloons on the fence and a purple paper tablecloth on the table loaded down with food. Sara had solved the seating dilemma by laying out picnic blankets for all the kids, freeing up lawn chairs for adults. At the age of twelve, Trisha and her friends weren't into really silly party games – thank goodness – but they liked having the radio blaring music and goofing off on the trampoline they had bought the kids that summer.

"I think that was well bought," Franz chuckled about an hour into the party when the kids were still bouncing and laughing and causing minimal ruckus.

"I'll say," Sara agreed. "I just hope it's as popular when they're all teenagers."

"Would it have been with you and your friends?" Franz asked as he set a plate of freshly cooked burgers on the table and kissed her cheek.

Sara smiled. "Yeah, it would have." That was a relief. Of course, that didn't entirely exclude activities that might not have freaked her Dad out anyway, but that would have been when she was in her later teen years. Come to think of it, her Dad hadn't freaked when he'd caught her making out with Mars once. I'm not sure I'd be that cool. She supposed she'd have to wait and see. For now, she was just happy to watch her not-quite-teen-yet daughter in twin braided tails running around having a good time.

"Thanks for the new notebook, Roy," Trisha smiled as she dropped down next to her friend with a slice of cake on her plate. "I love the leather cover. It'll be fantastic for my notes."

Her friend smiled half-heartedly. "I'm glad you like it." He looked back down at his cake and poked it with his fork.

"I thought you liked triple chocolate raspberry fudge," Trisha chuckled, though she had the feeling it wouldn't do a whole lot of good. Her friend hadn't been quite the same since his father had been… well ill was the easiest way to put it. He'd been gone for months in Xing.

"It's good, really," Roy replied. "I'm just not really hungry. I had a couple of burgers earlier you know?"

"So you're saying you're too full for our favorite flavor," she kept it up. "Wow, I didn't think you ever got full."

"Very funny." Roy looked slightly embarrassed.

Trisha smiled sympathetically. "Still worried about your Dad?"

"No!" he replied with too much vehemence. "I don't care if he ever comes home."

"You don't mean that," Trisha frowned. She knew her friend was upset about what happened, but it was the first time he'd said something like that.

Roy shook his head. "Grandpa was a hero. Dad's a complete embarrassment! I mean, I kind of feel sorry for him, but I still can hardly believe he'd do that! And everyone seems to have forgiven him so easily, after he treated all of us like crap." He shook his head and stabbed his cake with his fork.

"He wasn't himself though, right?" Trisha asked. "Grandpa told me that sometimes people's heads get messed up, and they can't fix it by themselves."

Roy looked like he wanted to argue, but he shrugged instead. "Yeah, that's what Grandma told me, and your Grandpa's pretty smart." He took a bite of the cake. "So I guess they've got to be right. But they didn't see him when he just… lost it."

Trisha reached over and gave him a hug around the shoulders. He had told her about that night before. She hoped that, someday, he'd be able to get over it, or forget some of it. "It'll be okay. Hey, you know what we forgot," she smiled.

"What?" he looked up at her in confusion.

Trisha held up her plate. "Ice cream!"

"So how's Maes?" Ed asked Riza as they stood to one side, watching the kids play and eat and the other guests mingling.

"Doing better," she smiled. "Still no word yet on when they're coming home, but I talked to him this week on the phone. He sounds like himself again."

"The sane version I take it," Ed commented.

Riza nodded. "Very much so. Humbled, but sensible. He and Elena seem to be doing better than they have in a long time."

"I'm glad to hear it." Ed knew only too well how destructive and painful it was to have someone in a family completely fall apart. The guilt from that would probably never completely go away. "They're really good about helping with that kind of stuff in Xing."

"You would know," Riza smiled before her expression turned more serious. "Edward, there's something I'd like to ask you to do."

"A request or an order?" Ed joked, wondering what she meant.

"I'm asking if you would please teach Roy alchemy."

His mouth fell open. "I… is that all right?" From what he had heard, part of Maes' explosion had been related to his son's desire to learn alchemy.

"I talked it over with Maes and Elena," Riza replied. "Maes' objection is to Roy learning Flame alchemy specifically. An objection I completely agree with." She sighed. "But if he doesn't have a teacher, I'm sure he'll try and learn on his own, and I'd rather he have the guidance of someone with the experience to give him the guidance he needs, and also the firm kick in the pants he'll probably need a few times along the way."

The last part amused him, just a little. "Well I'm flattered, of course, but are you sure you want me to do it?" Ed could think of a lot of more patient teachers. That and teachers who traveled less. He and Winry were back and forth to Resembool a lot more now than they ever had been before. "Sara might be a better choice."

"And we all trust her to keep an eye on him," Riza nodded. "But, I think you'd be best for it Edward. Roy practically idolizes his Grandfather. He thinks of my Roy as a hero and the greatest alchemist who may have ever lived. If Roy had survived… I know he would have asked his Grandfather to teach him even before he asked Maes."

A sad truth, but it made sense. What kid wouldn't have wanted to learn from Roy Mustang? Well, besides me. "So I'm the next best thing."

"Basically, yes," Riza replied. "You are as much of a hero and a legend as the Flame Alchemist, but also accessible, because you're his best friend's Grandfather. He actually respects you, and fears you a little. Both are important."

Both would help keep him in line. Though another thought came to Ed. "Maes' alchemy hasn't come back has it?" he guessed.

Riza sighed and shook her head. "Only some. He says it's not like he's just forgotten it, it's more like his mind won't access some of that information. Things that should be obvious aren't, and they just won't stick with him even when he's looked it up recently. The doctors say that kind of mental block can't just be removed either."

Ed had been without alchemy more than once in his life. By choice or by the difference in the nature of the world; but he couldn't imagine having that knowledge pulled from his head. He'd never lost it. "That's got to be tough."

"You think it's horrible don't you?" Riza smirked at him sadly. "While it is… I think he also finds it a relief. He's no longer a State Alchemist, and he didn't get kicked out for misconduct. There's no shame in a medical discharge, and no one has to know what the condition was. He's free to find another path in life without the pressure of being his father's son."

"Does he have any idea what he wants to do instead?" Ed couldn't resist asking. He didn't want to pry too much into another family's affairs… but this was Riza.

"Not yet," she shook her head. "Though Elena said he's enjoying the sparring he's allowed to do and looking around when they explore the city. Perhaps he'll find a new interest."

Ed remembered his own recovery, and couldn't help chuckling. "If nothing else, I'd take bets he's found a new interest in his wife."

Riza chuckled. "That's the feeling I got too. They both sound much happier. So," she looked at him. "You'll do it?"

Ed nodded. "Sure, I'll teach him. At least, I'll offer when I think it's a good time." He had very little doubts as to the kid's determination and likely natural ability. "As long as you don't mind Sara overseeing him when I'm not in town."

"I have no objections," Riza smiled. "Roy never dares to misbehave around Trisha."

"I've noticed that." Ed glanced over at the two, who were deep in conversation over cake. They were as close as Sara and Maes had been at that age. Which could be a good thing or bad depending on how it turned out. For now, watching the young man smile despite his recent family drama, he'd consider it a good thing.

October 9th, 1966

"Wow, that was amazing Mom!" Niam grinned across the dining room table.

"Isn't her cooking always amazing?" Breda asked with a teasing grin as he wiped his mouth.

"Well, yeah," Niam agreed. "But that doesn't mean I can't say so right?"

"Of course not," Nancy smiled, obviously pleased. "Though with praise like that I'd expect you to have eaten more."

"Not this week," Niam shook his head. "We've got our last big game at the end of the week! Don't forget. You said you'd come see it."

"Oh we wouldn't miss it," Breda promised. His son had gotten a sports scholarship to college, and Breda was all for that! He was glad Niam had stayed in town and started at the university there in Central that fall. Having both kids gone wasn't something he was ready for. Not just yet. Niam had moved into the dormitories, but he came home for dinner at least two or three nights a week still.

Nancy nodded. "Of course we won't. Though does that mean I should scale back on the dinner I had planned for your birthday tomorrow?"

"Oh…" Niam paused in the middle of setting down his napkin. "Well no, of course not. I'd never miss a birthday dinner," he grinned. "I just hadn't thought about it. It's just us?"

From the look on his face, Breda suspected his son might have had other plans in mind. "Unless you wanted to go out with friends." College boys did that; and Niam had an entire college baseball team of friends to hang out with.

"Not really," Niam shook his head. "I mean, I didn't have plans to hang out or anything with the guys but… do you mind one more for dinner?"

Nancy chuckled. "This someone wouldn't happen to be a new girlfriend would it?"

Niam's cheeks went as red as his hair as he smiled. "Well, yeah. We've been going out for a couple of months and I thought we might do something tomorrow. Can she come for dinner?"

A new girlfriend; Breda grinned. "You gonna tell us anything about her first?"

"Oh, sure," Niam said, looking embarrassed. "Her name's Denise. She's pitcher for the Softball Team and she plays violin in the University orchestra."

"So she's musically talented and athletic," Breda grinned. "I bet she's hot."

"Well of course she is!" Niam exclaimed.

"Or you wouldn't be dating her?" Nancy asked with one loaded eyebrow arch.

"Well… no," Niam replied. "I mean she's Denise, so of course she's gorgeous. Besides, there's nothing wrong with asking out girls that are good looking."

"I'm teasing you," Nancy relaxed and smiled.

"Cruelly," Breda snickered. "No guy asks out a girl he's not attracted to. What does she look like?" He asked his son.

"Besides hot?" Niam asked, relaxing. "She's a brunette."

Breda looked over at Nancy, whose hair was still mostly the same thick rich brown it had been when they met – the silver hints just made it lovelier. "He must be my son. He's got excellent taste."

October 15th, 1966

Jean entered Central Headquarters for the first time with a mixed feeling of excitement and trepidation. This was it! He had new orders to carry out, a new commanding officer to follow, and a new rank to live up to. The paperwork in his pocket told him to report to Colonel Franz Heimler in regards to his new assignment.

That name didn't mean a whole lot to Jean – though it sounded familiar – until he was informed that Colonel Heimler was to be found in General Breda's offices. What have I gotten myself in for?

General Breda's offices were definitely large, but surprisingly low-key. Jean relaxed as he looked around and was pointed towards a desk where a dark-haired Colonel in glasses was scribbling away furiously on something. "Excuse me, Colonel Heimler?"

The Colonel looked up. "That's me. What do you need?"

Jean held out his transfer orders. "First Lieutenant Jean Stevens reporting for duty, Sir."

Colonel Heimler took the paperwork and looked it over. "I've been expecting you," he nodded. "Good. Everything looks in order, and you have excellent timing. Things have been very busy."

"Thank you, Sir." Jean saluted then relaxed when the Colonel did not seem inclined to bark at him for taking more than two seconds to do so.

A minute later Heimler looked up again, and stood. "All right. Let me give you the brief tour and rundown on what's going on here, and then we'll get you right to work."

The tour didn't take long. It consisted of a quick once through Breda's offices – except the General's office itself since he was in a meeting – and then how to get to the Mess Hall, the Gymnasium, and most of the main conference rooms. He got a few curious glances, but all in all Jean felt mostly ignored in such a large place. Western Headquarters was big, so was Northern Headquarters, but not this big!

"What you need to know," Heimler explained about the job, "Is that General Breda is planning to retire in the next few months, and the duties are currently in transition to Lieutenant General Hal Brewster. A lot of our staff has also retired after many years of service and other officers – like you – are being brought in to take positions in the office. Brewster of course does have some of his own staff, but there aren't enough of them to fill every job."

"I'm happy to be of help, Colonel," Jean replied as they returned to the office. "What will I be doing?" He was getting more and more curious about it.

Heimler chuckled. "For now, a lot of paperwork."

Jean smiled back. "Somehow, I expected that, Sir."

As they reentered the office, General Breda's door opened and the two Generals in question stepped out.

"Thanks, Breda," the other General – Brewster, Jean guessed – grinned as they moved towards them. "Anything else you need today?"

"Lunch," General Breda chuckled. Jean didn't have to guess that the stocky red-and-gray haired man was the famous General. He'd seen his picture too many times, and the man himself during the war. General Breda turned towards them then, smiled, and then stopped dead and stared at him in shock. "Shit."

Not the best reaction. General Brewster was looking at him curiously.

Heimler looked between them. "General Breda, General Brewster, I'd like to introduce you to First Lieutenant Jean Stevens, the new transfer into the office. He just arrived."

Jean remembered himself then and saluted smartly.

Breda was still staring at him as if he didn't believe his eyes. "Jean…" Then he shook his head. "Stevens, right. I got a memo you were coming. Sorry," he offered a hand to shake, "You just looked a damned lot like someone I used to know."

Then it hit him…. General Breda knew Grandpa. "It's all right, Sir," Jean assured him, taking the offered hand and shaking it heartily. "I'm told my father and I both look a lot like my Grandfather."

General Breda's hand paused. "You're named after him."

Jean nodded. "Yes, Sir. Actually more than you think. I'm Jean Havoc Stevens. Havoc was Dad's middle name."

General Breda still looked dumbfounded. "Havoc never had children."

Jean felt embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sir, but that's not true. My father is his son. Grandma had a…thing… with Jean Havoc when he was still a Lieutenant. It was already over and she was seeing Grandpa Dave when she was able to track him down and tell him about Dad. The way I understand it they wanted to just keep it quiet."

The three officers all seemed thoroughly intrigued by his story. Jean hadn't ever realized his father's existence was so… strange. Women had flings with soldiers all the time, didn't they? "That lasted until Dad wanted to know why he didn't look anything like Grandpa Dave or Mom," Jean replied. He might as well give the short explanation now. "They didn't get along great anyway, and Mom told him about Grandpa Jean. Dad was already fifteen by then I think. So he looked him up."

"Did you ever meet him?" General Breda asked softly.

"When I was really little, before he died," Jean nodded. "He came to my third birthday."

"He never mentioned either of you." The General's voice was a little hoarse. "Though I… guess I can understand why."

"Probably out of respect for Grandma," Jean replied. "And he got married later, so probably for her too. Having a bastard isn't exactly good for an officer's rep right?"

No one contradicted the statement. "Well," General Breda finally cleared his throat and spoke up again. "Welcome aboard Lieutenant Stevens. I'm sure we can expect good work out of you." He hesitated one more time. "You don't smoke do you?"

Jean's nose wrinkled. "No, Sir. It's a nasty habit. Never could stand the smell."

At that, the General snorted a laugh. "Had to check. Good luck around here, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Sir."

The Generals moved past them, and Jean didn't relax until they'd left the room. Now, everyone else was looking at him from their desks.

"You can breathe, Lieutenant," Heimler commented with a reassuring smile.

Jean hadn't realized he hadn't been. He took a deep breath. "I didn't think about anyone here recognizing my face as his." He probably should have, but Jean Havoc had been dead for years.

"General Breda and Colonel Havoc were close friends," Heimler explained. "They worked in Mustang's office together from even before General Mustang was ever transferred to Central as a Colonel. They had a long history. I bet finding out his friend had a kid he knew about and never mentioned is probably a shock."

Jean felt a moment of guilt. There had to have been a better time and place for that conversation. It was too late now. "I guess I should expect more of that."

"Probably not quite as dramatic now that the General knows," Heimler assured him, "Though all of Colonel Havoc's friends will probably find out before long. Most of them are retired. It won't become widely known if you don't want it to." He gave a sharp glare around the office, and Jean noticed the other officers look down at their paperwork. No one in a General's office lasted long with loose lips.

"That's probably best," Jean agreed, regaining his composure. "So, Colonel, you have any nice, boring paperwork for me?" I bet Noelle laughs at me when she hears this.

Heimler grinned. "I'm sure I can come up with something."