I don't own FMA.

He was stuck in the middle of a major slump the first time he met Edward Elric. He had been sitting alone in his office, head on his desk and staring absently at the notes littered across the top, when the knock sounded on the door. He had groaned, heaving himself out of the chair and shuffling to the entryway. One part of his mind was yelling profanities and frantically calculating how much further this would set them behind in schedule, while the other half just sighed and muttered that it wasn't like they were getting anything done anyway. It felt like the thoughts in his head had been painted in watercolor and then smeared just before they dried, so that everything was blurry, indistinct, and slightly difficult to discern. It was possible that he was a little sleep deprived.

Behind the door was a child. For a moment, he braced for the business pitch, the spiel, the order form for boy scouts, when instead he got a pocket watch in his face. White-hot panic lanced through the haze as he mentally reviewed every action of his life, looking for the reason a dog of the military might have to be standing on his front porch. But after a moment of complete irrationality, he forced himself to focus to what the boy was saying.

The boy, Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist (and oh, he had heard of him), was grinning at him in a way that promised he'd never spent a moment stuck on some obscure alchemical theory before, and in fact was probably the smartest person in every room he walked into and oh but didn't he know it. It was a smile full of confidence and confrontation. There was a small urge to punch it off the kid's face, but the Fullmetal Alchemist was known for more than his transmutation abilities.

He was blustering off on a long explanation about how Colonel Mustang had sent him this way and how he had heard that maybe there were some research notes here that might be of interest.

And a cautious hope began to bloom. Because this kid was clearly brilliant, and maybe he could actually help.

The next week or two flew by. Edward Elric was more of a blessing than anyone could have predicted, and while he did spend most of his time wrapped up in his own little word, completely lost in a book, there were also those few times where he would emerge to discuss some obscure theory for an hour or two. Those scant hours were enough to keep the boy's overwhelmed research partner up through the nights, frantically scribbling away at page after page of fresh theories and transmutation circles.

He saw the boy's automail, and heard the story behind it, and he thought for once, here was a person who could actually understand where the drive came from. Why it was so important that everything go perfectly. Finally, here was another person who understood just how large a sacrifice alchemy required.

That wasn't to say that it was all easy going. The first few days had been spent in a state of complete, soul-wrecking jealousy as he watched Edward Elric read though his personal library and years of research notes and watched the child completely dismantle more than half the theories he'd spent years working on. The worst part of it wasn't even when the boy would occasionally set to work with a gleeful smirk on his face, reveling in the sheer glut of his genius. That was obnoxious, yes, but could easily be countered with a scowl or ignored as the prideful arrogance of a child. The worst part was when Ed would get really into the discussions and get this horribly excited light in his eyes. In those moments, he would plough his way through accepted alchemic law with a staggering intellect and thrilled carelessness. It was disgustingly humbling, because he wouldn't even notice that he was doing something hurtful as he drew circle after circle to make it clear just how wrong every precious theory had been.

But that was okay. Once he got past the urge to snatch the notes away from the Fullmetal Alchemist and cradle them to his chest like a small child, things really went quickly. And as he stayed up night after night after night, working until he collapsed on top of his notes in a dead sleep, only to wake a few hours later with fresh ideas brimming from his dreams, the cautious hope grew in strength, like a tremulous second heartbeat fluttering just below his collarbone. Maybe this time it'll work. Maybe this time it'll work. Maybe this time it'll work.

It only took a week and a half. A week and a half before the theory that had been haunting him for years had suddenly spun itself out beneath his fingers like the notes of an opera. There were bags under his eyes so dark he thought they might be permanent, and he had developed a twitch in his left eyebrow that started up whenever he found himself in light that was just too bright, but it was all so worth it.

It was going to work. It was actually going to work.

For the rest of the day, he waffled between thoughts, whether or not he actually would ask Ed if he wanted to help with the transmutation or not, but then he remembered the way that Ed had been so excited about the theory they were discussing, and he remembered the way that he had blasted through any block he had encountered that week, and thought maybe not. Because if he somehow screwed this up (and there really was very little chance of it at this point, but still), it would be horrifyingly embarrassing to do it in front of a kid who was one third his age and one thousand times smarter than him.

Besides, if everything went right, he could use it as a surprise for Ed.

So he let the boy walk out the front door with a wave over his shoulder, and he felt a gleeful tightening in the space between his lungs as he thought of the notes upstairs and the perfect transmutation circle he had finally traced out in the milky-pale hours before sunrise.

There was a tug on his pant leg, and he looked down. The small girl had craned her neck back to gaze adoringly at him. In one hand she held his pant leg, and in the other she held Alexander's collar.

"Is Big Brother coming back again so we can play?" He tiny bottom lip was pushed out in a pout and Shou scooped her up into his arms to hold her above his head. Nina let out a helpless giggle.

"Yes he is! But I've finished my work, so why don't you play with Daddy tonight?" She let out a gleeful shriek at that, and Shou set her down so she could pull him back into the house by his hand. He followed easily, resisting the urge to join her in ecstatic laughter.

It was going to work!

AN: So, sorry not sorry? I have been countering my writers block by rereading FMA, so can you guess about which part I'm at? Truly, though, a lot of you have been requesting that I write a chapter from a bad-guy's point of view, and while I can't imagine this is what you had in mind, I think it does count as a bad-guy! I'll get around to writing a proper bad-guy chapter soon.

But basically, I was trying to take a train home from university tonight and it turned into a six-hour delay where I was just sitting at the station without wifi, so here we are! It's short, and weird, and barely edited, but I'm pissed off and venting so here you go!

Hopefully I'll be able to write again soon! Enjoy! Let me know what you thought!

God bless! -Jakki