Chapter Two

…In the last analysis, it is the unknown that leads the archaeologist on.
Waldo Wedel

Edward swung off the train at the station in Risembool, breathing in deeply the familiar smells, strong enough to blow away the oil and hot stink of metal steaming off the locomotive engine. Sheep shit and lanolin, and green growing things – the smell of home. He inhaled deeply, coughed, and tried again, thumping lightly at his chest with his free hand. Yeah, this was home, all right. He drank in the sight of emerald grass and rolling hills, rising beyond the small town built up around the train station. A high-pitched yapping and the concerned baa-ing of sheep echoed faintly off to his left, but Edward didn't turn that way. He knew what a shepherded flock looked like. Instead, he picked up his little case, tossing it over his shoulder as he made his way to the end of the station platform.

"Ed?" His name came querulously.

Edward turned around, walking backward for a few steps until he spotted the man calling to him, and stopped. "Stationmaster Coyle." When had the man gotten so old?

"Thought that was you." Coyle's dripping mustache wriggled around the corners of his mouth. "Good to see you again."

"Thanks. You, too," Edward said, wondering what the stationmaster wanted.

"It's been a long time."

Great, he wanted to reminisce? Mentally gritting his teeth, Edward managed a taut smile. "Winry and I try to get to Risembool as often as we can."

"Pinako's getting old, you know," Stationmaster Coyle said, blinking his rheumy eyes.

As if he had any room to talk. "That old hag's going to outlive all of us."

Coyle sniffed. "No one lives forever." A frown started almost as soon as he said it, and he eyed Edward more closely. "Your dad, though, he never seemed to change."

Definitely not a subject Edward wanted to get involved in, not now, nor ever. "Yeah, I heard the stories; it was like he never aged. Good bone structure or something," he barked out. "Listen, Stationmaster, I have to go. I promised Granny I'd be there in time for supper. She's making stew!" Waving a hand, he turned and jogged down the stairs, heading for the road that would take him to the Rockbell house.

The setting sun warmed his shoulders as he strode along, throwing his shadow in lengths ahead of him. It took about twenty minutes to walk to the big yellow house sitting atop a gentle rise. It seemed like nothing had changed since the last time he'd been here. Den still lay on the porch, keeping an eye on the chickens scattered around the yard, but she raised her head, her tail wagging as she came off the porch, barking a welcome.

"Hey, girl," Edward said, rumpling her ears. He couldn't help but notice how the white on her muzzle had spread up to her eyes, and down to her jowls. How old was she, anyway? How much longer would she be around?

"Are you going to just keep loving on the dog, or come on into the house?" Pinako stood in the open doorway, scowling down at Edward. In some ways, she looked the same as she always had, as long as he could remember, but now that he'd been away from Risembool for so long, he saw white streaks in the iron grey of her hair. Eyeing him over the lenses of her glasses, Pinako asked, "You haven't gotten shorter, have you? I'd hate my great-grandchildren to be shrimps."

"What!?" Edward yelped. "Who're you calling so short he'd pass on little genetics to his kids?!" Heat flashed over his face at the realization of what he'd just said. "Ah!" Grinding his teeth, he stomped toward the old hag, climbing the steps. "Besides, you're getting smaller, too – and I'm betting you passed on some of your tiny genes on through Winry!"

Pinako laughed at him, slapping his arm. "C'mon into the house. I've got some stew made, just for you." It was as close as she'd come to saying she'd missed him, Edward knew. He held the screen door for Pinako and Den to pass through first, following the two old women inside.

Pinako led the way into the kitchen and the worn table in it. She got down two bowls and set them on the countertop. "Fetch some silverware and some mugs, boy. I've got tea brewing in the pot, that dark, smoky stuff Al sends from Xing." The smell of freshly baked bread lingered in the air, along with the familiar spicy scent of Pinako's stew. His mouth watered as Edward poured tea for them, remembering to add two spoonfuls of sugar and a splash of milk to Pinako's mug, while he took his with the barest amount of sweetener, and set both mugs on the table with napkins and silverware.

Pinako dealt out the bowls, climbing into her own chair. "Sit down, boy," she said, humping her chair up closer to the table.

Edward slithered into his own seat, stirring the stew to cool it off. Bread and butter sat on the table, along with a pot of honey. The familiar food soothed him, especially knowing he wouldn't get anything this fine for a long time.

"So, have you gotten my granddaughter pregnant yet?"

The question nearly made him spit stew. Edward could see Pinako's wicked grin through his watering eyes. "As if I'd tell you, you old hag!"

"Well, you're married, right? I'm not getting any younger, bean! I want great-grandkids, and Al's not going to get them for me any time in the near future. That girlfriend of his, what is she, ten? Not old enough to get pregnant, at any rate."

Edward flushed and groaned. "Don't want to think about it!"

"Your wife has periods," Pinako reminded him flatly.

Yeah, and that was when they risked not using condoms, during Winry's monthlies, but Edward wasn't about to share that with the old hag. "You're ruining my meal!" he half-shouted. "We're not talking any more about periods or bleeding or – or – Al's sex life, or mine and Winry's!"

"We could talk about mine, then."

"Oh, hell, no!" He nearly threw his spoon away.

Buttering a slice of bread, Pinako said, "Then back to yours. Winry keeps saying you're not ready – both of you. How ready do you have to be?"

"I am not having this conversation with you!" Edward snapped, slapping the table top.

Shaking her head in mock sorrow, the old woman said, "I hope you're having it with your wife."

Edward snarled softly over his bowl. "If we are, I'm not telling you!"

"Hohenheim produced you and Al, so you should be good to make babies of your own," Pinako went on, ignoring Edward's scrunched-up face. "Urey and Sara made a pretty baby; I'm guessing Winry would, too. If the baby didn't get too much of you in it." She sighed. "If Winry'd married Al, she would've gotten height, looks and a sweet nature, all three."

"She didn't. And you can just wait 'til we decide to have a baby, on our terms." Grabbing a slice of bread, Edward spread butter onto it and bit into it savagely.
The tangy flavor of sourdough filled his mouth and kept him from saying anything in answer to the knowing smile Pinako gave him. Yeah, he knew she was baiting him, she always did. Once Winry and he had a kid, Granny'd be whining for another one. Like it was her decision. They'd decided they weren't ready, and that was it, barring any accidents. And they were trying to be careful. Until Winry finished up her journeyman project and had taken her mastership tests, and he figured out what he wanted to do, they were kind of stuck.

Pinako gave him a flat stare. "Babies can come whether you want them to or not."

Deciding he'd throw her a bone, Edward said, "All right, we want kids. But not right now." Man, he hated the grin she pointed his way.

"That's what I wanted to hear, boy." Pinako's smirk was worse than any of Mustang's, really. "Now, eat up, before your stew gets cold."

Damned old woman. "After I eat, I'm going to head over to the Xingese traders." That'd give her something else to think about, at least.

"It's almost dark, Ed," Pinako pointed out, nodding toward the window and the sky, painted in shades of rose and purple. "They close up at the end of the day."

He snorted. "Yeah, I forgot. Rush Valley's open all night long."

"Must make it hard to sleep, all those hammers going," Pinako said.

"Nah, we manage to sleep," he said, waving her off, missing the glint in her eyes.

"Sleep? Who cares about sleep?" she roared. "I'm waiting for great-grandchildren!"

Edward screamed, nearly overturning his bowl of stew. "You old hag! I said I'm not talking this over with you! What Winry and I do – and don't do together – is none of your concern!"

Pinako roared back, "It is, too! I'm not gonna be around here forever, Ed, and I want great-grandchildren! The fun of them, I mean, I'm not looking to raise any more kids." Reaching across the table to poke him with the handle of the spoon, she added, "So you two better make good on your vows and get me some babies – and you'd better be sure to be around to watch 'em grow up!"

His mouth opened and then closed again with a snap. "Yeah, yeah," Edward muttered. "We'll do our best."

Eyebrow cocking at him, Pinako nodded with a 'hmph.' "I guess that's all I can hope for," she said.

Edward ignored the flush on his cheeks. "Weren't you just telling me to eat my stew?" he reminded, spooning some up. No way was he letting this meal go to waste, and even this dinner discussion wasn't putting him off the food.

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