Gracia slowly came to consciousness. There was a lot of honking and traffic noise from outside. A ray of sun had found its way inside the apartment from the crack of the curtains. She opened her eyes. A round table with two chairs, an oven, a refrigerator, wow! A refrigerator! For a moment she was disoriented, but immediately remembered where she was. The room was cold, but she felt deliciously warm under the covers. She turned to lie on her back. That was when she noticed his hand, his body. Maes was spooning against her with his hand resting on her stomach under her shirt. Oh no! The method didn't work! How did this happen?
Gracia carefully removed his arm from her and got out of bed. She tucked him in and hurried to the closet. It was freezing. She found a bathrobe and threw it around herself. After washing up, she went directly to the fridge. The quality of it was as good as the ones in her cooking school. Her uncle owned a freezer, but it was cheap and didn't work half of the time. Excited to see what the inside looked like, Gracia opened the door. Her mouth fell open. There was a bottle of scotch, an empty bottle of milk, moldy bread, and some dirty bowls. She checked the freezer. An equally impressive amount of ice and a hammer. Well, at least the fridge was nice, and the freezer had no frost.
Gracia scrounged around the kitchen for anything edible. She found peanuts, a half-eaten bag of stale chips, salt, and . . . coffee! Peanuts and coffee for breakfast it is. She spotted the coffee machine and used it to make herself a light cup. Sitting down with a bowl of peanuts, she cracked the shells and popped the peanuts in her mouth. Her eyes wandered over to the sleeping man. He looked peaceful. Her husband was really a handsome man. Why he wasn't already married, she couldn't figure out. Unless he didn't want to marry.
Maes groaned. The sun ray had moved and was now in his eyes. He stretched, and Gracia watched his back muscles ripple underneath his skin. His hand felt around the bed as though he were looking for something. Then he opened his eyes and saw Gracia. "Oh. Hey there."
"Good morning," she greeted back.
He grabbed a table clock and held it two inches away from his face. He groaned again and put the clock back.
"Would you like some breakfast?" Gracia offered.
"No, thanks," Maes headed to the bathroom. "I don't eat breakfast." He closed the door.
Gracia got the urge to look outside. She opened the curtains all the way back so that none of the window was covered. It was a beautiful winter morning. The sun was rising. The streets were already bustling with cars and people. I wonder where everyone is going. She continued to eat the peanuts and coffee by the window.
Maes changed into his blue uniform. Today was one of the days that he really didn't feel like going to work. He wanted to be in his warm bed with Gracia and hang out with her for the entire day. He thought of all the places he could take her, the things he could show her, the fun they could have; but no, damn it all, he had to go to work. He looked at the clock. And if he didn't leave in four minutes he would be late. Shit.
Maes ran around the apartment getting the different things he needed before he had to leave. He was talking to Gracia at the same time. "Your money is all in the briefcase in the closet. If you're hungry, there are a lot of different restaurants close to here, so you can eat at one of those. Don't wander off too far. There's a spare key in the medicine cabinet. Answer the phone if it rings. It might be me."
She watched Maes down a cup of coffee. "When will you be back?"
"Around six, maybe five-thirty if traffic isn't a bitch." He hurried to her and put his hand behind her neck. "I'll be back soon." He gave her a quick kiss.
They both froze. Maes hadn't meant to. She was just sitting there with a peanut in her hand, looking at him with her big aqua eyes; it was almost natural that he did. His internal alarm clock was telling him it was time to go. So he thought, fuck it, and gave her another kiss. Then he was gone.
Gracia sat there, still holding the peanut, trying to register what happened in the last three minutes. She could barely remember anything. Oh, but he kissed her. Twice. It was just a peck on the lips, but he did it as though he kissed her everyday. She sighed and decided to get dressed.
Piles of books and paper were stacked on Major Hughes' desk. Immediately upon his arrival, his superior, General Hakuro, gave him another case to investigate. This one was about business collusions. An extremely important and extremely boring case. Maes was in the middle of analyzing a company's accounting records when his secretary's head popped in.
"Major Hughes?"
"Yes?" he ground out. He was annoyed at being interrupted now and at not being interrupted sooner.
"Officer Farman is here to see you."
"Fine." Maes took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He put his glasses back on.
Farman walked in the office. He saluted Maes. "Glad to see you're back, Major."
"Glad to be back," he returned half-heartedly.
"I came to tell you that Lieutenant Colonel Mustang has returned from Ishbal."
Maes was now interested. "Really? When?"
"Two days ago." He paused. "He's not doing well."
Dark brows furrowed. "Tell me."
"He won't come out of his room. He won't let anyone in. People think he went insane, but no one really knows. Some are worried that he might . . . be irrational."
"What do you mean?"
"They think he might kill himself."
Maes couldn't believe it. Roy wasn't that kind of person. He had to see it to believe it. "Thank you, Farman. You're dismissed."
"Yes, sir." The officer exited the room.
Maes picked up the phone and called Roy. He let it ring twenty times before hanging up. Damn it, Roy, what's going on? He sat there thinking what he should do. Normally, when one of them had a problem, they would handle it on their own. If they really needed help, then one would ask the other. It was very rare that they interfered when not asked to. However, this seemed a little more serious than usual. Maes decided that if Roy didn't contact him by tomorrow, he was going to pay him a visit.
Maes needed to focus. He stared at the report and read the same line four times. It was no use. He couldn't get his mind off of Roy's situation. He needed something to distract him. Something interesting. Something happier. Gracia! He picked up the phone again and called his apartment. It rang about eleven times before he hung up. Damn. She wasn't home. He wondered what she was doing as he went back to work.
Gracia had a productive day. She started out by getting lost. Initially, she wanted to go to the bank, but had no idea where any bank was, so ended up walking around for an hour with a briefcase full of ten thousand dollars. She finally found one that ended up being only a block from Maes' apartment. Opening up an account was a breeze. All she had to do was show the banker her ID and the ten thousand dollars cash, and she was instantly an Exclusive Premium Member.
After leaving the bank, Gracia was ready to spend some money. She needed necessities, so she dropped into a drugstore and bought all the toiletries needed. As for clothes, she had seen a beautiful store while she was lost and wanted to look inside. She walked down several blocks and recognized the store. It was very large with doors that spun. So this is a department store. Gracia had never been in one. Today would be her first.
She pushed through the revolving door. Awe struck her every nerve. Gracia had never been inside a department store, especially one as deluxe as this. The floors were made of marble, there was a gentleman playing piano, and there was a crystal chandelier hanging at every entrance. She couldn't have felt more country bumpkin at the present moment. Gracia shrugged off the out-of-place feeling and told herself that she was just looking.
"Excuse me?"
She turned.
A man with a side part and full moustache stood beside Gracia. "Do you need any help?"
It wouldn't hurt to look. Just look. "Well, yes, I –"
He looked Gracia up and down with a sad frown on his face. "Yes, yes, I do see that you need my help. My name is Gilbert and I'll be taking care of you."
"Oh." She followed the man named Gilbert. "I'm just looking for some new clothes."
"Of course, my dear. We'll get you some of those in due time. What is your name?"
"Gracia."
Gilbert stopped and dramatically sighed in contentment. "Gracia. A beautiful name with a beautiful face, and all you need is a beautiful presentation." He suddenly turned on his heel and shouted, "Come!"
He took her to the salon department. "First, you need a haircut. Madame," he addressed a short lady with a very blunt cut. "Please give our angel a crowning glory."
Gracia began to object. "I didn't come for a haircut."
The hairstylist put her hands on her hips. "And trees didn't grow to become paper, but look how much that has helped the world."
Gracia didn't know how to respond to that.
The hair stylist pointed to a chair. "Sit."
Gracia obeyed. She did need a haircut. The stylist turned the chair away from the mirror.
Gilbert hovered over Gracia as Madame began to work. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions to find out your taste in fashion."
"Okay," she said warily, unsure of what he meant.
"What do you like to eat?"
Gracia paused, wondering what the correlation was. "Pasta."
"Favorite smell?"
"Fresh air."
"Favorite flower?"
"Gerbera daisies."
"Paper or plastic?"
"Paper."
"Chicken or the egg?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Good choice. Last question: the beach or the mountain?"
Gracia smiled slowly. "The park."
Gilbert raised his brows. "Ooh, you're a good one, Miss Gracia. Come to the dressing room when you're done." He sauntered away with a hop in his step.
Gracia frowned. Dressing room? Why would she go to the dressing room? The man seemed a little ostentatious; but she decided she liked him all the same.
After a few chops here and many snips there, Madame spun Gracia around to face the mirror. "You like it," Madame demanded more than asked.
Gracia put her hands to her cheeks. Her waist-length hair had been cut to just below her shoulders. A few layers were added along with some bangs. It was a simple hairstyle that brought out the best of her features. "I love it."
"Yes, I know." Madame pulled the salon cape off of Gracia. She pointed to a door. "Over there is the dressing room. Go now."
"How much do I owe you?"
"Why must you worry about something so petty?" Madame screeched in a frenzy. She calmed down and said, "Gilbert will bill you. Now shoo!"
Startled, Gracia hurried over to the dressing room.
"Ah! There you are!" Gilbert took her hands. "You look lovelier than a spring day. And look at you blush! You'll be able to catch any man you want after I finish with you!"
Gracia mumbled incomprehensible words of denial.
"Now," he held out one of the outfits that was hanging on the wall. "Try this on and let me know when you are done. I want to see if it fits you."
Gracia undressed and put on a red sweater, black wool skirt, thick tights and black leather boots. Everything fit perfectly. She looked in the mirror and couldn't recognize the person looking back. It was as if she was looking in a clothing catalogue and she was the model.
Gilbert knocked on the door. "Are you done, Miss Gracia?"
"Yes, but-"
The door swung open and he carried in some more pieces. "You look absolutely stunning! Turn around for me, dear."
Gracia self-consciously turned.
"Fantastic! All you need now are some accessories!"
"Accessories?"
"Try on this blue dress and I'll grab you some jewelry."
"Jewelry?" She called out in protest but he was already gone.
This went on for the remaining hour and a half. Gracia had been putting on and taking off clothes as though she were Gilbert's personal doll. She loved every outfit he brought her, but silently freaked out when she saw the price tag of each piece. She tried to gather up the courage to tell Gilbert that she wasn't planning on buying anything. But Gilbert was so kind and patient with her, and so very helpful, she couldn't bring herself to say it.
Five sweaters and skirts, four pants and shirts, three dresses, two coats, and two pairs of boots later, Gilbert asked Gracia, "Which pieces did you like, my dear?"
"Oh, all of them!" she exclaimed, still overwhelmed. "But I-"
"Terry!" Gilbert shouted above Gracia. "Take all of these to be packaged and bagged. And don't forget the accessories!"
Gracia looked at the man, mortified. She couldn't possibly pay for all those clothes. Gathering up what courage she had left, Gracia went up to Gilbert at the counter and firmly said, "I'm sorry, Gilbert, but I cannot take the clothes."
He looked up at her in surprise. "Well of course not, dear."
She sighed in relief. "Thank you-"
"You would be crushed underneath all those bags and boxes. Terry will have them delivered to your home. And, you're most welcome, love muffin." He gave her a wink and a smile. He pulled out a form, scribbled something on it, and pushed it towards Gracia with a beautiful fountain pen. "Okay, Miss Gracia, I just need your address, telephone number, and signature, and we'll have your things delivered by this afternoon."
She looked to the door and wondered if she could make a run for it. No, she was wearing a new outfit already because Gilbert threw away what he called her 'odious paraphernalia.' Well, she did need new clothes, and this might be the only opportunity she'll get to spoil herself. Besides, she was starting over. Gracia picked up the pen and filled out the form. Gilbert then handed her the bill. It was a little over three thousand dollars. Gracia felt her jaw drop.
"Yes, I know," Gilbert said with a clever smile. "It's amazing how low prices can go when things are on sale."
Gracia nodded numbly. She wrote a check and signed it. My first and last check, she sobbed in her mind. She reluctantly gave it to Gilbert.
"Thank you, Miss Gracia! It was a pleasure helping you today. Do come back again for the summer line!"
Gracia walked outside, painfully aware that her new apparel was about to be soiled by the winter weather. After walking a couple blocks, she noticed the difference of her new clothes. Her boots and coat were warm, her scarf was soft against her neck, and her purse straps didn't dig into her shoulder. She just hoped that everything would last her five hundred years.
Walking back to the apartment, Gracia spotted a little café. It had windows as walls with little sparkling lights strung along the top. A small coffee and biscuit would be nice, she thought. The café had a very warm and cozy atmosphere. It was busy but not crowded. She was immediately seated by the window. A young waitress came by and asked what she would like. Gracia ordered a latte and a fruit tart.
The waitress gave her an unsure look. "Really?"
Gracia nodded. She felt like something light. The waitress conceded and went back to the kitchen. While she was waiting, Gracia heard a bit of a commotion in the back kitchen. A man was yelling about something. The waitress brought Gracia her food. She thanked the girl and took a sip from her coffee. It was delicious. She took a bite of the fruit tart. It was awful. The crust was tough, the taste was bland, and the fruits were grainy. She noticed the waitress was still standing beside her.
"Yeah, I know," the girl said. "It tastes like sand."
Gracia shook her head in denial, but was really agreeing.
"It's okay, we all know. Our pastry chef was fired three days ago, and the owner tries to make the pastries on his own. I mean, he's really good at the other things, like coffee, but he could really use some help in the dessert arena."
Gracia was intrigued. "Well, maybe you could suggest to him to not over-beat the dough. That makes it tough. And perhaps use half shortening and half butter instead of all butter, that way the crust will be flaky. And do you know if he uses cold water? I find that using ice cold water is key to making a good crust."
The waitress was staring at Gracia as though she had just told her the secret lottery numbers. "Wait here!" She ran to the back.
Gracia didn't really know what else she would do, so she continued to drink her coffee. A couple of minutes later, a short man with a balding head and a beaming smile came up to her. The waitress was tailing behind him.
"So," he boomed, "you're looking for a job, huh?"
Gracia looked at the waitress then back at the man. "Well, actually, I am, but I didn't mean to imply that -"
"Great! Bring in something tomorrow for trial's sake, and you can start right away!" He shoved his hand in hers. "I'm Joe, the owner. I'll see you tomorrow, say eight in the morning?"
"Well," Gracia started but didn't get to finish.
"I have to get back to the kitchen. Thanks a bunch, doll. You're saving my rear end. And don't worry about that coffee. It's on the house. Tomorrow! Eight!" He disappeared as quickly as he came.
The waitress was smiling broadly at Gracia. "Oh, thank you! You're just what this café needs! Oh, I'm Krina, by the way. I work the morning shifts, too, so I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow!"
Dazed once again, Gracia smiled and left the café. She stood on the sidewalk a moment to gather her bearings. My, but Central is a pushy place. She grinned. She rather liked it.
Maes was tired, mentally and physically. He normally ran in the morning, which helped him stay energetic throughout the day, but he overslept today and was feeling the consequences. As he climbed the stairs to his apartment, he could smell his neighbors cooking dinner. It reminded him that he was starving. He would take Gracia to another restaurant he liked and eat dinner there. Maes opened the door. The aroma was coming from his apartment! Gracia was in the kitchen wearing a green apron. She had just taken something out of the oven when Maes entered, and she gave him a dazzling smile.
"Dinner's ready," she chimed.
Stunned, Maes set down his briefcase and undid the buttons of his uniform. "I didn't know the oven even worked."
"Oh, it does. I had to reset the pilot light, but other than that, it's working just fine." She set two plates of spaghetti on the table. Maes was still standing by the door, so she went over and helped him out of his coat. "Go wash your hands and come to the table."
Maes did as he was told. He sat down at the table and noticed a few differences. First of all, the table was clean. Second, there was dinner on the table. Third, the kitchen was filled with food. When Gracia sat down, he thanked her and began to eat. He was in heaven. To him, spaghetti was spaghetti. He hardly ordered it when he was at a restaurant. This spaghetti, however, was full of flavor, wonderfully balanced with vegetables and herbs. The noodles were firm but tender, cooked to perfection.
"Is it good?" Gracia waited for his response.
"No," Maes said while stuffing his mouth more pasta. "It's phenomenal. I knew you knew how to cook, but I didn't know you knew how to cook! This is better than any restaurant I've ever eaten in."
She relished in his compliment. "Thank you."
Maes pointed to the kitchen. "I hope you didn't spend all your money on groceries."
She coughed. "Of course, not. By the way, why don't you have any food?"
"I'm not home a lot."
"Too busy?"
"I guess you could say that." He shrugged. "I don't know. No reason to be here." Unless it was to bring a woman home. He thought it wasn't such a good idea to say that to her.
"Oh." Hearing him say that made her sad.
Maes wanted to change the subject. "So, what did you do today, other than get a haircut?"
Gracia brightened. "I went to the bank and opened an account."
"Very good."
"Then I went to buy some new clothes."
Maes looked at the dress she was wearing. "You look lovely."
She blushed. "Then I stopped by a café and had some coffee. And I got a job."
"Really? Congratulations! How'd you get it? What do you do?"
"Well, I'm a pastry chef at the café I went to, Cup O' Joe. It's very cute and cozy. I can't wait to get started!"
"Is that why you're baking apple pies?"
Gracia looked over at the two cooling pies on the counter. "Yes. Joe wants me to bring in something for a trial. How was your day?"
Maes finished eating. "I started a new case today. I have to investigate a stock company. There's something going on that the General thinks could be collusion. It's dull as fu-" He looked at Gracia. "Fun. It's as dull as fun."
Gracia shook her head. "You know, I don't know if it's just me, but I don't think I understand Central people. You have the weirdest sayings and you're all bent on having your way."
"That's a falsehood," Maes objected, even though he knew what she was talking about. "I, uh, talked to my lawyer today."
Gracia ignored the forlorn feeling. "Did you make an appointment?"
"Yeah. It's in about four weeks. Hope that's not too late."
"That's fine. Whenever is fine. You know. Take your time." She smiled nervously.
Maes cleared his throat. "A friend of mine is going through some trouble. I think I'm going to visit him tomorrow." He didn't know why he was sharing this with her.
"Oh no." Gracia was genuinely concerned. "I hope everything will be okay."
"Yeah, me too. I think he might do something dangerous."
"Like what?"
"Kill himself."
Gracia put a hand to her mouth. "You should see him right away." She got up to clear the dishes.
"I'll see him tomorrow if he doesn't call me."
"Tomorrow might be too late. The people who think they don't need help are usually the ones who need help the most."
The soldier rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll drop by after I help you clean up."
"Don't worry about that. I'll do the cleaning, you go change your clothes." She pushed Maes out of the kitchen.
"Change? Why would I change? It's just Roy."
"Don't you think going in your uniform makes your visit look more work related than friend related?"
"Yeah, I suppose." Maes went to the closet. "Whoa! There's a lot of bags in here. Hey! I shop here, too." A beat, then Maes stormed to the kitchen. "Just how much money did you spend today?"
Gracia wailed. "Too much! I didn't know I was such a pushover, but it's my first time in the City and I was awestruck, and I didn't really think straight. And then Gilbert-"
"Gilbert!" Maes laughed. "Yes, I see how you can be swayed by Gilbert." He returned to the closet and changed into a maroon suit.
"Here," Gracia handed him a basket as he was heading out the door. "Take some apple pie. It might cheer up your friend."
"Thanks, Gracia." He kissed her on the forehead. "I'll be back soon."
The two soldiers were sitting in the dark. Maes had just sworn allegiance to Roy and was about to eat the last slice of pie.
"Hey," Roy said, rubbing his sore jaw, "wasn't that for me?"
Maes shrugged. "You, me, whatever makes you happy." He was about to take a bite, when Roy snatched the pie out of his hand and ate it whole.
Roy chewed thoroughly without expression. When he swallowed the last piece, he said in a monotone voice, "Pretty good. So, who is this girlfriend of yours?"
Maes leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. "Her name is Gracia Jones. I'm her hero."
Roy scoffed. "Let me guess. She was in great danger and you saved her with your little thumb tacks."
"Push knives!" Maes defended. "Anyway, she's not actually my girlfriend."
"She's a he."
Maes deadpanned him. "No. She's my wife."
This made Roy laugh. He laughed so hard he thought his ribs would cave in. He spoke when he caught his breath. "Thanks, man. I needed a good joke. I haven't laughed in weeks."
Maes didn't care if Roy didn't believe him. He knew that he wouldn't. "You know, you could use a wife yourself."
"Shut up."
"Yeah, you're right. What woman would want to marry a man who's the same height as her, but has paler skin?"
Roy put on his glove.
Maes jumped up and ran to the door. "I think you need a wife to tame your temper." He slammed the door just as he saw Roy snap his fingers. He patted his hair, checking to see if there was any fire damage. Nope, good as gold.
Maes drove back to his apartment. It was later than he anticipated. When he got home, Gracia was already in bed. She was upside down again, obviously attempting to do the 'fool proof method'. He smirked. Last night, he waited until Gracia fell asleep, then he flipped around and slid under the sheet with her. Some may consider it violating, but hey, they were married, so what the hell.
Maes washed up and changed into pajama pants. Gracia's breathing was deep and even, so he climbed into bed beside her and held her again. He inhaled the scent of her hair and slipped his hand under her shirt. Her stomach was so soft. He felt Gracia sleepily put her hand over his.
"Goodnight," she sighed.
Maes wasn't sure if she was sleep talking or not, but he pulled her body closer, kissed her hair, and bid her sweet dreams.
