Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Title: After School Special
Pairing: RoyxEd overall, with mentions of MaesxRoy, JeanxRoy and a few other surprise mentions
Rating: PG (this chapter)
Timeline: Present AU
Summary: Principal Roy Mustang finds himself strangely drawn to the school's newest student, a quiet social outcast with a metal arm and leg...
AN: Last time- Roy has a meltdown and Ed makes a decision


After School Special
Chapter 11
"Clean Slate"


Roy sat up on the edge of his bed, trying to still the nauseating churn of his stomach. Even though there was nothing left to vomit, dry heaving was just as unpleasant and he wanted to avoid it at all costs. He pried his eyes open and glared at the window, cursing the sun and its offensive brightness.

After a moment to adjust to being upright, Roy slowly stood up, wavering slightly. He grabbed onto the bedpost, waiting for his head to stop spinning, and clutched the right side of his chest; he had pulled something for sure. When he felt he could go on, he stumbled into the bathroom where he washed his face and rinsed out his mouth, which tasted rather godawful.

As he headed down the stairs, the first thing that struck him was the absolutely sickening smell of food. Any other morning, he would have welcomed a home-cooked morning meal, but today his stomach rolled in objection to the stench of it.

He soldiered on through the kitchen door, where he saw Jean emptying the last remains of alcohol down the kitchen sink. Roy noticed a cigarette dangling from his teeth; the man was a notorious chain smoker outside of school, which Roy could never begin to understand, given his remarkable physical condition. Jean gave Roy a cursory glance before turning his attention back to the sink.

Roy sat down at the table and rubbed his face. He attempted to stretch but found that he couldn't do it properly because of the pain in his chest. Giving up, he rested his elbows on the table and stared at Jean's back.

"That's perfectly good liquor," he croaked.

"I know. I'm the one who bought most of it," Jean replied without turning around.

"How did I get upstairs last night?"

Jean grunted. "How do you think? I carried your heavy ass myself."

Heavy? Roy was mildly offended. "It's not like it was the first time you've ever done it."

"Yeah, but that was when I was getting laid, not playing wet-nurse to a drunk man." Jean tossed the last empty bottle into the garbage and retrieved a plate that was warming in the oven. He slid it, along with utensils, across the table to Roy, who swallowed hard against the uprising of his stomach.

"Eat," he commanded.

"I can't," Roy insisted.

Jean moved over to the refrigerator and poured a glass of juice. "You can and you will," he said, setting it down in front of him. "It doesn't even have ashes in it."

Despite his aching head, Roy couldn't help but grin at the memory of the infamous scrambled egg and cigarette ash incident. One morning, Jean had prepared a post coital breakfast of bacon and eggs and only after Roy had eaten heartily did the man admit to spilling a fair amount of cigarette ash into the eggs.

It was not nearly as humorous at the time.

Jean grabbed a bottle of painkillers from the counter and shook out two, which he handed to Roy. He then ground out his cigarette in an ashtray that Roy didn't realize he even still owned and lit another one.

"Why did you come here last night?" Roy popped the pills into his mouth and took a small sip of juice, grimacing at the taste and praying everything would stay down.

"I was in the neighborhood." Jean sat down across from Roy and dragged deeply on his cigarette.

"Is that so?" Roy gave him a suspicious glance as he bit the edge off of a piece of toast and chewed slowly. He swallowed it in apprehension and waited…. So far so good.

"Well, that… and I was thinking," Jean started, fidgeting with the placemat in front of him. "Maybe… I could… help you find him."

Roy stopped eating and looked thoughtfully at Jean, who immediately went on the defensive.

"Let's get one thing straight," he said. "This is not for you. I still hate you, so don't look at me like you just sprouted a vagina, okay?"

Roy smirked. "Tactful as always."

He took a tentative sip of juice before continuing. "I appreciate the offer, but… I don't think he wants to be found."

Jean frowned. "Why do you say that?"

Roy sighed sadly and stared down at his plate. "Because that's just the way it seems."

The two men sat in silence while Roy continued eating.

After finishing his second of countless cigarettes for the day, Jean got up from the table. "I'm going to check on the laundry," he announced.

"Jean?"

Stopping in the doorway, Jean turned around to look at Roy. "What?"

"Thank you."

Jean Havoc stared into the grateful face of his ex-lover.

"Shut the hell up and eat," he said softly, walking out of the kitchen.


For the second time in less than a month, Ed was taken on a shopping spree at someone else's expense… although this time, he didn't feel nearly as guilty about it.

He practically had to sprint to keep up with Al who was naively unaware of the… discrepancy… in their respective heights with regards to walking. It didn't help matters at all that he was saddled with three large bags full of clothing.

"Al, wait up!" Ed called out as the young teen bounded into Hot Topic.

He had called Winry and told her everything; she was sad to see him move away, but happy for him that he had found his family. She promised to pack his things and ship them to him first thing Monday morning. In the meantime, he had been willing to settle for rewearing the clothes he'd brought with him, but Trisha and Hohenheim had emphatically insisted on buying him a new wardrobe.

Like the Elric house, the family vehicles were equally pretentious and Ed had been somewhat embarrassed to be seen riding in one of the large luxury cars. But his embarrassment quickly gave way to fearing for his life as Al drove, seemingly unaware of even the most basic of road laws. As he stepped out of the car at the mall, grateful to be alive, he made a solemn vow to get his own drivers license as soon as possible.

Now, as the two boys browsed through the eclectic selections of gothic merchandise, a voice called out across the store.

"Hey, Al!"

Al and Ed both looked up. Al smiled in recognition. "Hey Russ! What's going on?"

Two blond teenagers approached the brothers. The older of the two, Russ, looked down at Ed with interest.

"Not much," Russ replied. "Just looking for a gift for our cousin's birthday."

"Cool," Al said. Noticing Russ' attention was drawn to Ed, he remembered his manners. "Oh, this is my brother, Ed."

"The Ed?" Russ asked.

The Ed?

Al beamed proudly. "Yep. Ed, this is Russ and his brother, Fletch."

The younger boy scowled. "Fletcher."

"Sorry. Fletcher."

"How's it going?" Russ asked.

"Um… alright," Ed answered quietly.

Ed caught the look of shock that passed across the younger boy's face and blushed slightly, knowing he had just seen-

"Whoa! Is that your arm?"

"Uh…" Ed stammered, trying to think of a way to explain it.

"Oh! That's his automail," Al piped in. "Check it out."

To Ed's horror, Al grabbed his arm and raised his sleeve so that the two boys could inspect it.

"Al!" he said, trying to pull away from him.

"That is so cool!"

"Huh?" Ed stopped resisting, caught completely off guard by Fletcher's assessment.

"I know!" Al agreed. "His leg is the same way!"

"Al…" Ed groaned.

"Can I touch it?" Fletcher asked with pleading eyes.

"Uh… okay?" Ed said uncertainly.

The young boy reached out and touched Ed's automail arm with a finger. He wrapped his hand around the metal forearm and giggled. "That is so neat!"

"Fletcher. I'm pretty sure Ed doesn't want you feeling him up." He never took his eyes away from Ed, even as he admonished his brother. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay," Ed said shyly, pulling his sleeve down as Fletcher reluctantly removed his hand. "I'm just not used to people thinking it's… neat."

"Then you don't know the right people."

The comment left Ed speechless. He tore himself away from the teen's intent gaze and looked at Al.

"We better get going," he said in a shaky voice.

"Okay," Al said.

"It was nice meeting both of you," Ed said.

"You too!" Fletcher proclaimed happily.

"How long are you going to be in town?" Russ asked.

"He's moving here!" Al interjected. "Mom's going to enroll him in school next week."

"Really? What year are you?" Fletcher asked.

"I'm a senior."

Fletcher looked surprised. "So's Russ!"

"Oh?" Ed said.

"Looks like you're going to get to know the right people after all." Russ smiled down at Ed before turning around. "Come on, Fletcher."

"See you guys later!" Fletcher called over his shoulder as they walked away.

Al and Ed left the store and stood in the hallway. Al had a deep, contemplative look on his face.

"What is it, Al?" Ed asked.

"You know, I never noticed before," the teen began. "But I think that Russ is a little bit…"

Ed breathed an inward sigh of relief. ThankGod, I'm not the only one who noticedhe was-

"… bossy."

-gay... Wait. What?

He stared up at his younger brother in disbelief. "Bossy?"

"Yeah," Al said. "Didn't you notice the way he bossed Fletcher around? I mean, I know he's older and all, but still…"

Ed looked into the face of his ridiculously innocent brother, utterly nonplussed.

"I guess you're right, Al," he grinned in resignation. "He did seem just a tad bit… bossy."

"I'm hungry," Al said, switching the subject without a second thought.

Ed smiled, again amazed at how easy it was to love him. "I figured as much." He patted the teen on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go eat…. Or am I being too bossy?"

Al laughed happily. "Ed!"

The brothers wandered off in search of food before taking in a movie- non-horror- and spending an obscene amount of money in the video game arcade. Ed spent an hour on skee-ball alone, winning enough tickets to exchange for a cheap plastic snake and Al poured the equivalent of a small fortune into the crane machine, only to come away empty handed. They teamed together to play a zombie-shooter game, making it through the entire game and drawing a throng of fascinated spectators who cheered them on until the very end.

Up tothat point, itwas one of the happiest days of Ed's life.


"Good morning, Mr. Mustang."

Roy walked into the office, feeling a lifetime better than he did over the past forty-eight hours. He smiled warmly at his secretary as he greeted her, politely overlooking the way it caused her to fluster.

"Good morning, Ms. Sheska. What's on the agenda for today?"

"8 a.m. conference call with Superintendent Bradley and the board," she started, staring down at her calendar. "The president of the PTA will be in at ten-thirty. The head of the teacher's union just called; she needs to reschedule her meeting with you. And the kindergarten chorus is having their concert today at two."

"Not bad for a Monday," he said. He began walking back to his office door when Ms. Sheska called out after him.

"Oh, I almost forgot one thing."

Roy stopped and turned around.


Ed was wide awake. He had, in fact, yet to fall asleep.

He sat up in bed with his arms wrapped around his knees, his silky blond hair spilling around him. He rested his cheek against the cool smooth metal of his right arm and glanced at the soothing glow of the digital clock in his bedroom, something he purchased on his shopping trip with Al.

Roy should be arriving at work right about now.

Would he call when he found out?

Or would he never want to speak to him again?

Not that he spoke to him now.

Ed knew he should have told him personally, if not face to face, then voice to voice. Any reason, any excuse to hear him speak.

But how?

How could he tell the man he loved…

… that he was never coming back?


After checking his mailbox in the school office and flirting with Ms. Sheska (the woman was so easy to tease), Jean stopped by Roy's office.

"Roy?" he said, knocking lightly before opening- a first. "Roy, are you in h-?"

He sat at his desk, staring blindly at some papers. Jean stood in the doorway with a concerned frown.

"What is it?" he asked.

Roy didn't answer. Jean closed the door behind him and walked over to the desk, snatching them out of Roy's hand. He knew it was trouble when the man didn't even argue with him for doing so.

Jean read theforms that had been waiting on the fax machine for Ms. Sheska that morning.

After a moment, he sighed harshly.

"Looks like you actually did him a favor," Roy said quietly.

"Roy, I never meant-"

"I know, Jean. I know." Roy patiently held out his hand.

"Well, at least you know where he is now. You could go see him," Jean said, handing the papers back to him.

Roy laughed bitterly. "I don't think that even the most progressive parents would appreciate their son's former high school principal showing up on their doorstep to profess his love."

If that's even what it is.

"It's over," Roy said with sad finality, turning theforms facedown on his desk.

"But-"

"I have a lot of work to do. If you don't mind."

Jean didn't move. "Look, Roy…"

Roy gave him his best impersonation of a smile.

"I'm okay, Jean," he insisted. "I am. This is all for the best."

Unconvinced but relenting, Jeanslowly walked into the hallway. Turning to grab the doorknob, hesaw the man's fake smile quickly fade with the closing of the door.

Troubled more than he would ever care to admit,Jeanwalked through the school lobby and into the boys' locker room, inhaling the pungent smell of stale sweat and general guy funk. He made his way into his office and immediately grabbed a pen and a piece of paper.

Hehated the dumb jock stereotype with a passion… even if it did hold a bit of truth. He knew he had better write it down before his brain no longer agreed to retain it:

10310 Central Terrace.

It didn't sound like any special address in particular, but Jean knew enough to deduct that anyone who could afford to have a lawyer fax a high school in the middle of a Sunday night for something as insignificant as a transfer of records must indeed be well off.

He didn't yet know what he planned on doing with the address. Jean Havoc was a pro at stalking ex-lovers, but this was a different matter altogether and he racked his brain as best he could...


An hour later, as the first period bell rang and hyperactive teens began entering the locker room, the plan finally clicked into place.

Jean Havoc knew exactly what he was going to do.


AN: I'm soooooooo sick of our boys being apart :( Maybe jerkface Havoc will do something right for a change, since he started all of this.