The telegram was simple and succinct, two words and a name, and enough to make Edward Elric stop in his tracks, halfway across India, and go back the way he'd came. It took him nearly a month to get back to the United States, thanks to the transport system of trains and boats and automobiles, and finally, he stood in front of a brick house, ivy climbing the walls, a taxi driving away. Gathering up his suitcase, Edward strode up the walk, climbed the steps and rapped on the door, the automail making the wood boom.

It didn't take long for someone to come to the door and Alphonse appeared in the frame of wood like an assistant in a magician's trick, a bigger smile wreathing his face than Edward could ever remember seeing. His brother swept him into a tight hug, pounding his back, the words, "Welcome home!" bubbling over in greeting.

"Al, Al, you're choking me!" Edward managed to wriggle out of his brother's hug though his grin belied the words he used. He glanced beyond the foyer of the house then back at Al. "So?"

"Come in," Al grabbed his arm, hauling Edward into the house, closing the door behind them. He babbled the entire time he led Edward up the stairs, down the hall and to a brightly painted room, one holding a pretty young woman who in turn, held a bundle of blankets. "Janet, honey," Al said, his voice lowering but still excited, "look who's here."

Janet smiled a welcome at Edward, her own words carrying a crooning tone to them. "And she's awake, too, so she can meet her Uncle Edward." Rising to her feet, Janet seemed to waltz across the floor, the autumn sunlight stroking her form from behind, limning it and making her appear luminous. For a second, Edward had to blink his eyes, remembering another time, another woman, another baby; then the scene resolved itself again and Alphonse stood with an arm around his wife, beaming that proud, beautiful smile.

Janet lifted their daughter, peeling back a little bit of blanket to show Edward a round face and pudgy, waving hands. "Look, Winry, it's your Uncle Edward."

He couldn't help the look that he gave Alphonse, but he schooled it away before the proud parents noticed. Edward made the appropriate noises about how beautiful she was, when he really thought she looked somewhat doughy and unfinished, and managed to escape to his room soon after, feigning (but not really) exhaustion.

It was well after midnight when Edward woke, bleary eyes blinking, flesh hand massaging them lightly and wiping away sleep. He could hear the soft sound of a baby crying and shook his head, chasing the last of the dreams from his brain. Getting out of bed, he rumpled his hair, tugged at his vest and shirt, and wandered out into the hall to see Alphonse pacing the length of it, making shushing sounds and bouncing his daughter in his arms.

Al paused to give Edward a wry smile. "Sorry we woke you up."

Edward waved off the apology, thinking the baby sounded more like an upset kitten than anything. "How often does this happen?" he asked around a yawn.

"She's usually a good baby." Al jiggled her, nuzzling her fine, dark hair. "Aren't you, precious?" He rolled his eyes to Edward. "I'm sure you don't believe me."

Unable to help himself, Edward mumbled, "Not if she takes after her namesake," only to get a grunt of irritation from his brother.

Winry quieted down with a little hiccupping sound and, even in the dim light, Edward could see her eyes glinting at him. As if Alphonse realized it at the same time, he said, "You should hold her," and before Edward could protest that thought, he had an armful of baby. "There, now," Alphonse sounded wickedly satisfied, "support her head, yes, like that, and you're doing it, Brother!"

Edward rolled his eyes in irritation. "You just want her to spit up on me, I know," and didn't bother hiding his disgust when Al giggled and nodded. Winry made a little sound and Edward turned his attention to her, alarmed. She made it again, one chubby hand waving up to strike his chin.

Edward swallowed hard, blinking and Alphonse, all too attuned to his brother's moods, asked gently, "What is it, Brother?"

"I just wonder," he whispered, searching the baby's face for an answer he knew he'd never get, "if she'd name her sons after us."

A.N. - just for the record, I really prefer the mangaverse. Oh, but the possibilities for angst in the animeverse...