Ellen was heading to Mustang's office when Ed arrived for his weekly briefing with the Prime Minister.

"I'll just take that in to him," he said, plucking the cup of coffee out of her hand with a charming smile.

She rolled her eyes, but let him go. "You do that, Minister," she told him.

He pushed open Roy's door, taking a long, lingering sip of the coffee as he did so. "You're right," he said. "Ellen really does have a gift- this is incredible."

Roy looked up from his desk, his eyebrow cocked. "Is that my coffee, Fullmetal?" he asked.

"It's my coffee now, Prime Minister," Ed said, grinning as he took another sip. He supposed he should have matured past picking fights with Mustang. Apparently, he hadn't.

Roy sighed, stood up, and walked around his desk. Suddenly, he clapped his hands and dropped to a crouch. "I'd like it back, if you don't mind," he said, with a smile.

The floor rose up under Ed, grasping. He danced nimbly out of the way, coffee held high. "You're going to ruin your office like that," he pointed out, cheerfully. "The transmutation marks will never come out."

Roy grinned, and touched the wall. Damn- he must have clapped while Ed was evading his last attack. Ropes of wood paneling snaked around Ed, holding him fast. Roy walked up and took his coffee back, sipping it as he clapped and de-transmuted his office.

"It's no fair using alchemy when I can't," Ed complained.

"Who said I fight fair?" Roy said, sitting back in his desk chair with his coffee. "I fight to win. I thought you knew that by now, Fullmetal."

"You're so full of yourself," Ed said, flopping into a chair with a grin.

Roy sipped his coffee. "So you have observed before," he said. "What's got you in such a good mood this morning?"

Ed stretched, putting his hands behind his head. "Life is good," he said. "I have a brilliant wife and great kids. I mean, my job is shit and my boss is really annoying, but I try to look on the bright side."

"Have you seen the Times?" Roy asked, tossing a copy in Ed's direction. "Your brother's little adventure made the front page."

Ed frowned and reached for the paper, all his playfulness vanishing. Life's-Blood Alchemist Saves Four, the headline read. There was a picture, which Ed recognized from Al's State Alchemist file. Ed had supported the move to make the register of State Alchemists public knowledge, but it was irritating now. Alphonse Elric, the Life's-Blood Alchemist, the caption read. Ed skimmed the article. It contained several eye-witness accounts of the incident, with far more detail about what Al had done that Ed really wanted to have on the public record. "Publicity," Ed said, frowning.

Roy didn't say anything; just nodded, his eyes dark and careful. It was nice that Ed usually didn't have to spell things out for the man. Roy Mustang might be a manipulative bastard, but he was no one's idiot. Well, maybe Hawkeye's, Ed amended. But no one else's. "There's nothing we can do about it now, I guess," Ed said. "Either Armstrong's paying attention or she isn't."

"Oh, she's paying attention," Roy said, taking another sip of his coffee. "Believe me when I say that there's always someone paying close attention any time the name 'Elric' comes up."

"I didn't realize we still merited that kind of treatment," Ed said dryly. "Before I came to work with you, it'd been years since I did anything interesting, and Al's been off in another country for ten years."

Roy just smiled. "You painted a permanent target on yourself when you walked into Central HQ to take the exams, all those years ago," he said. "Actually, I always assumed that was what the red coat was about- a figurative representation of a bullseye."

Ed laughed. "Maybe," he admitted. "Mostly, I just thought the color red was badass."

"Well," Roy said, "You were twelve at the time. I suppose certain... lapses in taste might have been expected."

"Keep your eyes and ears out, okay?" Ed said, not rising to that conversational bait. "If the military is going to make some kind of move, we need to know."

Roy sighed. "I do think you're being a little bit paranoid, Ed. Even if Armstrong realizes the potential applications- which she might not- it's not currently legal to use alchemy on the battlefield."

Ed snorted. "I think you're living in a damned fairytale if you think that means the Amestrian military won't do it anyway."

Roy narrowed his eyes. "I think I know something about the evils that the Amestrian military is capable of, Fullmetal," he said. "But she'd have to deal with the public as well. She may run the military, but things have changed in the last ten years, and not just in the government. People don't trust the military like they used to, and they're wary of letting another Ishval happen. The army's still powerful, but it's not all-powerful."

"We've gone up against all-powerful before anyway," Ed said, crossing his arms. "Let's just both tread carefully, here, okay? The State Alchemist program is under my watch, and so is Al's school. Even if we leave my 'paranoia' out of it, I still don't want the military anywhere near my Ministry's affairs."

"Of course," Roy said, lacing his fingers together thoughtfully. "This isn't entirely bad, you know. It's good to see a State Alchemist in the news for using his alchemy to help others. Public opinion and all."

"I guess," Ed grumbled.

He proceeded to give Roy his weekly briefing about the state of affairs of the country. The rebuilding in the West continued; The Strong-Arm and Flowing-Water Alchemists were in Pendleton building aqueducts and irrigation infrastructure. There were fuel shortages throughout the North, which were only likely to get worse as winter set in. He discussed crop yields in the South and East, and the ongoing instability in the Liore region. Roy took it all in, his hands pressed together as he considered the issues.

"We'll have to divert fuel from our reserves," Roy said, finally. "We can't let people go without heat, not with winter coming. Hopefully, the Cretan treaty will let us start to import more oil; otherwise, we might have to consider instituting a rationing system."

Ed grimaced. "It's not going to be pretty if it comes to that," he said, considering.

Roy nodded in agreement. "In happier news, the tenth anniversary of the Ishvalan Accords is coming up."

Ed smiled. "Ten years of Ishvalan self-rule," he said. "Congratulations." Ishval wasn't independent; they were still considered part of Amestris. But they had their own Parliament, and they kept their own borders. It had been enough to keep the peace.

"I'd like you to go to Kanda for the celebration," Roy said.

"What?" Ed asked, surprised. "Why?"

"There should be a representative from the central government there," Roy said. "You're the Minister of the Interior; it makes sense that it be you."

Ed shook his head. "No, I mean, why aren't you going? Ishval has been your main project since... well, since the Promised Day. You were the one who worked for the Accords in the first place. Don't you want to go to the celebration?"

Roy smiled, but his eyes were sad. "You know that the terms of the Accords forbid any licensed State Alchemist from entering Ishvalan territory, right?"

"Yeah," Ed said shrugging. "But it only applies to currently licensed State Alchemists. Which means that Al can't go, but it's got nothing to do with you. You gave up your license when the program demilitarized, and that was years ago."

"There was a corollary to that provision," Roy said. "It was never put into writing. They requested that the Flame Alchemist never again set foot on Ishvalan soil. I gave my word that I wouldn't go back, and I haven't broken it yet. So- you have to go in my place."

Ed felt the sting of old frustration, of old anger. He wanted to argue that it wasn't fair, but he knew that it was the least the Ishvalans could have asked for as justice for the Flame Alchemist's crimes. Still, he wished that it were possible that someday, it could be enough, that Roy and Riza could count their debt to the old war paid. "Yeah, okay," he said, not voicing his thoughts. There was no point to discussing the subject, and it would only cause Roy pain.

Roy smiled. "Good. We'll discuss it again before you leave for Kanda."

Ed shrugged, and started gathering his papers in preparation to leave. "If that's everything..." he said.

"For today," Roy said, ruefully.

The kettle whistled, and Winry pulled down the cups from their place on the shelf. It wasn't her kitchen, but she still knew where everything was.

"Just put those on the tray," Gracia advised, pulling the kettle off the burner. She pulled the lid from the teapot, checked that the infuser was in place, and poured the boiling water in. She put the lid back on, and slid a cozy over the pot.

Winry did as she was told. She put the tin of cookies she'd brought on the tray as well, right next to the sandwiches that Gracia had made. "Into the living room?" she asked.

Gracia nodded, smiling, and put the teapot on the tray. "If you don't mind," she said.

"How have you been?" Gracia said, once they were settled, with the tea poured and a biscuit each on their plates. "It's been too long since we got together."

Winry smiled. "It has," she agreed. "We've been fine! Everything's been so busy since we came to Central. I guess I knew it would be, with Ed's job and all, but things have picked up for me, too."

"You're a very good automail engineer," Gracia said, smiling softly. "It's natural that people seek you out, especially now that you're more conveniently located."

Winry shrugged, blushing a little. "I guess," she said. "Oh, would you like to see some of my designs? I brought them this time, like you asked."

"Yes, of course!" Gracia said, setting her teacup down. She cleared the tray to the side. "Here, you can lay them down on the table."

Winry coaxed the drawings out of the carrying tube she'd brought, unrolling them carefully. "This is an arm I've been working on- it's transhumeral, as you can see, but we're trying to save the shoulder joint." She went on, pointing out little details. Gracia hmmed and nodded and smiled, encouraging her to talk about her work. It was a nice change. Usually people wanted her to shut up about it, instead- unless she was visiting Rush Valley, of course. Winry warmed to her subject; she pointed out the articulation in the opisthenar, the small but sensitive extensors, the subtle function of the brachialis.

After a while, Winry switched to a new drawing. "This is for Ed," she said, smiling shyly. "It's a surprise. He's taking a trip out East soon, into the desert, so I'm designing him a leg that won't be so uncomfortable there. He told me that the last time he went out there he almost got burned around his ports!"

Gracia smiled. "You look out for him as well as you can, don't you?" she remarked.

Winry blushed. "It's just that steel is so conductive," she babbled defensively. "I was thinking of doing a carbon fiber shell, like Northern automail, and then a flexible sheath to keep the sand out-"

"It's alright," the older woman told her, "I did the same for Maes, when I could. It must be a comfort, being able to help Edward like that."

Winry relaxed. "I sometimes wonder if I'd have been as good an engineer if Ed hadn't lost his limbs," she admitted. "When we were little, it was how I got to sleep at night if I was worrying about him and Al- I'd work on his automail in my head. I've always liked designing automail, but designing for Ed is-"

"Special," Gracia supplied, smiling gently. She was so graceful; Winry had always wished in vain for that kind of feminine poise. Where Gracia was quiet and well-mannered, Winry was loud and opinionated.

Winry looked down at her drawing, imagining the design made real in metal and carbon, imagining it lying next to her in bed in the morning at the end of her husband's leg. She reached down, brushed the vellum gently with her fingertips. "Yeah," she agreed. She shook herself. "Sorry, Miss Gracia," she apologized, smiling. "I don't mean to be so sentimental!"

"That's alright," Gracia said. "So, how are little Al and Sara doing? Has Al read his way through the Central library yet?"

Winry laughed. "No, but you should have seen his face when Ed and Al took him there for the first time! He was daunted for about the first five seconds, and then I could just see him calculating how long it would take him to read every single book in the place. He's so much Ed's son."

"But with a sweeter temper," Gracia observed.

"God knows where he got that from," Winry said, smiling. "Maybe it skipped a generation from Aunt Trisha, because he didn't get it from either of us."

"I hear things about Sara from Elicia, of course," Gracia said. Elicia picked Sara up from school twice a week, so they saw each other regularly. "She seems to make friends like breathing, that one."

"Which she also didn't get from us!" Winry said, grinning.

"Oh, I don't know," Gracia said. "I saw Edward and Alphonse make a lot of friends here in Central. And I hear stories about you in Rush Valley, with all your customers."

"Ha!" Winry laughed. "Ed mostly offended people here," she argued, but she didn't mean it. Gracia was right- even as rude and thoughtless as Ed could be, a lot of people had still come together to help him over the years. "Anyway, how is Elicia doing?" Winry asked. "I know you were a little concerned about her grades the last time we spoke."

Gracia laughed, and then she sighed. "It's hard to believe sometimes that she's fifteen already! And she doesn't think I know anything. I'm fairly certain that she's involved with some boy, but she won't talk to me about it."

"Maybe I could talk to her," Winry offered. "She might listen to me."

"It's hard for daughters to open up to their mothers about some things," Gracia agreed. "If it's not a bother, Winry, it would ease my mind. You needn't feel like you have to report to me, either- I trust you to give her good advice."

"You just have to promise to talk sense into Sara when she gets to be this age," Winry said.

"If she lets me," Gracia agreed, smiling, sipping her tea.

When they finished their tea, Winry helped Gracia take the dishes back to the kitchen. "Are you busy next week?" she asked.

"I'll be helping with some fundraising for the Foundation then," Gracia said. "But surely, I can make time for tea."

"Oh, right," Winry said. "We're supposed to go to the ball, aren't we? I still need a dress." Winry mostly hated going to balls, especially in Central- she always felt so much like a country bumpkin- but she made an exception for the Hughes Foundation charity events. Gracia worked hard on them, and besides, the Foundation did a lot to help Central's kids.

"I'm sure you'll look lovely no matter what you wear," Gracia told her, rinsing the tea-pot and putting it on the sideboard.

Winry smiled, and picked up her bag. "Maybe I'll pick up Elicia and Sara from school today," she said. "I've got a little time this afternoon, and I might be able to get Elicia to talk to me."

"Alright," she said. "Take care, Winry."

"You too, Miss Gracia," she answered, embracing the older woman.

Gracia smiled at her as she waved her goodbye.

A/N: The newspaper in Central really is the Times. I picked that name out of the air, and then went picking through the manga to find out (there are shots of a newspaper during the Ross/Barry the Chopper bits) and sure enough, it's called the Central Times.

I totally stole the word opisthenar from Chapter 3 of vanillavinegar's Next Contestant. Not that it's made up; it's a valid anatomical term, but I had never heard it before. When I saw it there, I knew that one day, it would be mine. Today is that day.