A/N: Not really a full chapter, more a collection of snippets. No warnings.


Happenings.

A newly promoted General can't keep his eyes of a particular blond at a congratulatory soirée. Their time in Ishbal was over…

As the crowd cheers the newlyweds, a lone man, suitcase in hand, hails a cab in Central…

Underneath a sunny blue sky, on a porch of a countryside house, a mother and father dandy their one-year old twins on their knees when a letter arrives.

August 21, 1922

Al,

Sorry, I haven't written in a while. Still in Aerugo, not much to tell except I keep getting sand in my automail (don't tell Winry!). I should just avoid the beach altogether.

I read your most recent article on chimera reversal. CONGRATS, Al!

That's all I really wanted to say. I'm eating and sleeping.

Give the kids and Winry a big hug for me.

-Ed

PS I'm sending a book.

A gentle breeze toys with the blond ponytail of a young man as he hauls another sack of seed from a truck. He grins cockily at a dusky-skinned gypsy with thick black lashes…

Night falls on a father with his newborn daughter in his arms, their coal-black hair a perfect match…

Another father attempts to keep his twins from pulling on the house cat's tail while finishing up a phone call with an old friend in Central. His wife finds an anticipated package on the porch.

September 7, 1924

Al,

Hope the bi-monthly letter is on time this time (it better be, I paid for a rush delivery!). Met a band of gypsies. They have some interesting theories about alchemy, even if it is all muddled with that mysticism crap.

I'm still with that girl I told you about, I know you're wondering. No, she isn't coming back with me. Don't pretend like you weren't thinking that, I know you.

Hope you find this book useful. As you can probably guess, I don't have the resources available to decode it.

I know the kids are great and so is Winry, so just give them my love and give the old hag a hug.

-Ed

PS I miss you.

In a hayloft, soft neighing mixes with the moans of a blond man writhing in pleasure as he dreams about a lover with fine black hair and thick lashes…

A young toddler with fine black hair plays with towheaded twins at the newly inaugurated Fuhrer's estate…

An elderly woman smokes her last pipe on a cool, starlit night…

April 10, 1928

Al,

It's been a while. I want to come home, I do, but there's one more lead on a book about the Gate. I hope you aren't too upset.

Money's tight, so I may not be able to write much, but I know you guys are okay. You don't need me, right?

I miss you a lot.

-Ed

Al read the latest missive again and sighed. It had been a year since it's posting. Carefully refolding it he slipped it back into its envelope and placed it in a drawer with all of Ed's other letters.

"Of course I need you," he whispered to no one.


A/N: Please review!