February 11th, 1986

Cal had no idea what time it was when his back hit the bed. Late. That was the best he could come up with. He closed his eyes, letting the world swim around him. The only stable thing was the solid mattress beneath him, and the scent of Alyse's lotion on the sheets he hadn't changed since she went into the hospital. It smelled like lavender and brought to mind her soft skin, her silky hair…her beautiful body... Oh god. I didn't drink enough.

It was his last conscious thought before morning light found him through the blinds, stabbing at his eyes, making his head throb with promises of worse to come. Only inhuman effort and necessity pried him from the bed. Cal slumped into the bathroom, relieved himself, and took a shower before he dragged on jeans and a t-shirt and slogged downstairs.
He could smell coffee, bacon, and eggs. Charlie must have made breakfast.

"And how are we feeling this morning?"

Tore was at his breakfast table, eating with Charlie.

Cal grimaced. "I've got a rock band in my skull, but I feel better than expected… which worries me." He had the sinking feeling he was still partially drunk. "How much did I have last night?" he asked as he poured a cup of thick, black coffee into his favorite blue mug.

"Given I haven't seen you drink like that since Drachma?" Tore commented. "I think you broke a bar record last night."

Cal grunted. "Doesn't answer my question. I've broken records in many bars in my lifetime." He put some bacon and eggs on a plate and joined them, dropping into the nearest open chair with enough force it jarred his skull. Cal winced, rubbing his temples with his fingers.

"You finished the bottle."

"Shit." Yep, still drunk. That hadn't been a small bottle either. Cal was frankly amazed he'd made it home alive. He had vague, fuzzy memories of drinking water…maybe eating… something. Probably at Tore's insistence. It had not been a short night. Everything from holding it together the last few months had just kind of…overflowed. He upended his mug of coffee and drained it, waiting for the hot caffeine to bring back some semblance of humanity. Slowly, it occurred to him that this entire conversation was happening in front of his sixteen-year-old son. "If you ever mention this…"

"Oh, I won't!" Charlie exclaimed, shaking his head. "No reason for Mom to kill us both."

He still hadn't told Alyse about the boy's suspension. After last night, Cal had no idea if there ever would be a time that was less than awful. "Smart boy." He held out his mug at his son. "More coffee."

Charlie complied without a word of objection. "Here, Dad."

"Thanks." Cal took another sip, then looked at Tore. "So what are you still doing here? I thought Charisa was expecting you home."

Tore chuckled. "My exact instructions were not to come home until I was sure you were okay. Well, after I poured you into bed at three in the morning it was too late to try walking home, so I didn't try. We talked for a bit, then I passed out on the couch, and by the time I woke up again, there was food."

"You cooked?" Cal looked at Charlie.

His son nodded. "Yeah. Gloria and I made breakfast."

Gloria. Oh, shit. Gloria. "Where's your sister?"

"She left already to go see mom." Charlie looked confused. "Dad, is that a problem?"

Cal had sinking feeling. "Not yet…but it might be, for both of us." The throbbing in his head got worse. "I haven't told your mother about you yet."

"Shit." Charlie's face went pale.

Tore looked sympathetic. "Someone need a ride over to the hospital?"


Alyse wasn't sure what was tougher to take; the news that her son had been suspended from school for a week, or the fact that she had only found out about it most of the way through said week from her daughter who had been in town for barely a day.

Gloria looked sorry she'd said anything. "I'm sorry, Mom. I assumed you knew."

Alyse sighed. "It's all right, Gloria. It's not your fault. I'm sure they were just waiting for a good time to tell me." Which, admittedly, there hadn't been. Part of her wanted to be angry with Cal, but she already knew what he would say; she'd been ill, and he hadn't wanted her to be more stressed out than she already was. He didn't want to worry her. Which was so very… like him. "Where are your father and brother this morning?"

Gloria sighed. "When I left, Charlie was eating breakfast. Daddy was still asleep, but Mr. Closson was over, so I'm sure they'll be here as soon as they're ready to come over."

At least they would have a ride. Alyse didn't ask why Tore was at her house. "That's good. I want to see them." She felt bad about last night, but coming out of surgery, groggy, in pain, and trying to absorb the reality that her breasts were just gone had been more overwhelming than she'd anticipated. She'd spent the last several months smiling, holding it together, and she just couldn't do it anymore now that it was over.

"Did you sleep okay?"

Alyse nodded. "Pretty well. These aren't exactly comfortable beds."

"Aunt Ren told me this morning you get to come home in a couple of days." Gloria smiled. "I wish I could stay longer. I promised my professors I would be back in classes by Monday."

That meant she would have to leave tomorrow evening to get back, at the very latest. Alyse reached out and took her daughter's hand. "You need to get back to school. I'm going to be fine, and we can talk on the phone any time." She would be home for a while, just recovering, so anytime her daughter called she would be likely to reach her. "I'm going to need to consider a new outfit for Urey and Raina's wedding," she added with a soft smile. "I'm not sure anything I have now will drape right."

"Well, you know," Gloria chuckled, "there's a lot of new styles out now designed to show off flatter figures. Maybe you should look into some new fashion."

Alyse looked at her full-chested daughter and laughed. "What would you know about fashion for flat women?"

Gloria rolled her eyes. "More than half of my friends are dancers. I was the only girl in the company who had to wear extra reinforcement in her leotards, remember?"

"You're right." Alyse felt lighter, more normal, having casual conversation with her daughter. "I'm sure I can find something spectacular."

They continued to chat for another hour before a knock on the door revealed the arrival of Cal and Charlie, and there was a flurry of hugs as the four of them were together for the first time in months without the likelihood of death hanging over their heads. Alyse smiled, and didn't mention what Gloria had told her. For a few minutes, she just wanted peace in her family.

It was only after Charlie and Gloria left the room to go find them all lunch that she brought it up to her husband. "Cal, why didn't you tell me about Charlie?"

Her husband winced visibly. "I meant to, but the timing always seemed lousy. So I thought I'd tell you after the surgery," he replied. "He'll be back to school on Monday, and hopefully they've learned their lesson and this whole mess can blow over."

Alyse shook her head. "They really suspended him for making-out with a girl on a field trip?"

Cal shrugged. "To be fair, the report says the teacher caught him with his hands up her blouse….and hers under his shirt."

It was just hard to wrap her head around it. Not that Alyse didn't believe that her son wouldn't make out with his girlfriend, but that both of them were foolish enough to get caught in a compromising position. Shelby had always been such a reasonable, responsible girl; a good influence on Charlie. There was something else odd about this whole thing. "I thought you said they broke up."

Cal froze. "Did I?"

"You did."

"Maybe it would be more accurate to say that her father broke them up," he corrected, looking uneasy.

"For…similar behavior?" She didn't like the expression on her husband's face. He looked guilty. Why would Cal look guilty? Oh no. "Cal…"

He nodded. "They did. I found a condom in Charlie's bathroom trash can and he confessed." His expression turned even more miserable. "I'm the one who told him they'd better come clean to her parents. I'm surprised Charlie hasn't blamed me for her parents' reactions."

"It's not your fault." Alyse closed her eyes, letting heavy lids rest. She was still so tired. "If I'd ever slept with a boy my father would have locked me up for the rest of high school and transmuted the offending boy into cockroach."

She felt Cal's hand on hers. "Then it's probably a good thing we didn't meet in high school."

"Calvin, when you were Charlie's age, I was seven years old."

He shuddered. "Don't remind me."

Alyse opened her eyes again. She felt like she should be more furious, but she was too tired and drugged to summon any real fury. That, and the last few months had given her a lot of perspective and time to think. "So what's the punishment? I'm assuming you did discipline our son."

"Oh, his ass is grounded," Cal replied firmly. "I told him how long would have to wait until I discussed it with you, but I was thinking at least a month after he gets back to school. No going out after school, no movies, no hanging out with friends, just come home, chores, homework." He shook his head. "His last few grades have been crap."

Not surprising, given he did almost all of his studying with Shelby. "Give him time."

Cal was looking at her funny. "I thought you'd be furious."

"I should be. I probably will be later. Right now… I'm just glad I'm still here to deal with this," Alyse admitted. "There are worse things in life than a traumatic teen romance."

"Tell that to our son."

"I will… but not using those words."

February 13th, 1986

Bringing Alyse home made Cal's world feel like it was starting to fall back into place. Gloria had gotten on the train the night before to go back to school, but not before she helped Cal and Charlie do a thorough deep-cleaning on the house in anticipation of Alyse's return. While they hadn't exactly pitted the place out while Alyse was gone, there had been a lot of chores that had slipped, usually involving scrubbing, and some of the laundry.

"The house looks great," Alyse complimented him as they came up the stairs from the garage into the living room. "It's so nice to be home. What's that smell?"

"Dinner," Cal smiled. He had left Charlie in charge of cooking the meatloaf, garlic bread, and steamed mixed vegetables. "Are you hungry?" he asked hopefully. Now that treatments were done, he hoped she would have her appetite back.

Alyse flashed him a smile. "Famished. It smells delicious." She held on to his arm as they went into the dining room, and he pulled out the chair and let her sit down.

"Right where you belong," he whispered, kissing her on the cheek before taking the chair beside her. She wasn't wearing anything fancy: jeans, and a loose red-and-white floral patterned sweater that buttoned down the front so she wouldn't have to struggle with getting dressed, or lifting her arms over her head while her chest was healing. The scarf on her head was red silk. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Alyse blushed, and he realized he was staring.

"Tonight, may I present, my gourmet cooking skills," Charlie quipped as he set plates down in front of his parents with thick slabs of meatloaf, freshly toasted bread, and the veggies.

"Good work, kid." Cal picked up his silverware and motioned for Charlie to join them.

"Thank you," Alyse smiled as she stabbed a piece of broccoli with her fork. "It looks great."

"All I really had to do was not overcook it," Charlie admitted as he sat down. It was good to see the boy smiling and talking a little, even if it was just about dinner. Cal had spent most of the week dealing with sullen-and-sulky.

"Well it's very good," Alyse assured him after she had swallowed her first bite.

They ate in relative quiet, just enjoying the novelty of being a family again, together at the dinner table. Cal found himself looking forward to summer, when Gloria would be home too, and all four of them could eat like this.

Charlie finally broke the quiet. His earlier cleverness had faded. "So, how dead am I?" He knew that his parents had talked about his suspension, and the reason behind it.

Cal set down his after-dinner cup of coffee. "You're still grounded."

"I figured that much," he replied fatalistically. "How long?"

"Until after Spring Break." Given they were traveling to Resembool over Spring Break for Urey and Raina's wedding-which Alyse refused to miss- the last week shouldn't be too terrible. "No friends. No after school activities. No phone calls. No television. No dating… anyone." Not that he expected Charlie to move on to someone else in a month, but weirder things had already happened. "Presuming you abide by the rules, it will end when we get back from Resembool."

Charlie nodded. He didn't look happy, but he looked resigned. "Yes, sir. Sounds fair."

Alyse reached out and patted her son's shoulder. "Charlie I-"

"Look, I know you don't hate me," Charlie cut her off sharply. His face flushed. "And you're disappointed in me. I let you down, and I've been stupid. I know that. I deserve this. Can we please not discuss it?"

Alyse looked startled, but she nodded. "Sure. We don't have to discuss it right now."

Cal bit his tongue. Snapping at his son wouldn't make anything better. The boy, faced with his mother, looked nervous and ashamed.

After dinner, Charlie went up to his room to work on the schoolwork that would be due when he returned to school the following week. Cal and Alyse snuggled up on the couch in the living room-with the cat, who was very insistent on petting- and spent a little while just cuddling in each other's arms. The television was on, but Cal couldn't have said later what they watched. It didn't matter.

When Alyse started to droop, which wasn't very late since she was still recovering, they went upstairs, and Cal helped her change for bed. Alyse stiffened slightly as he slid the sweater off her back, his hand touching the side of her bandages.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" he paused, concerned.

Alyse shook her head. "No, sorry. I'm just… I'm not used to feeling so self-conscious."

Cal set the sweater down on the bed. Standing behind her, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "To me, you will always be beautiful. Physically, as well as what's inside." He kissed the side of her neck. "What matters to me is that you're alive, and you're here, and I'll have years more of enjoying the pleasure of your company. Which I still don't deserve," he added with a soft chuckle. "Your hair will grow back… and believe it or not, I did not marry you for your breasts."

Alyse chuckled, and turned her head, smiling over her shoulder. "Given your wandering hands, I do find that a little hard to believe."

"And as soon as it won't hurt you, they'll keep wandering, I promise."

"Slow down, lover boy. I need to get my pajamas on first."

Cal chuckled and reached for the nightgown he had pulled out earlier, which also buttoned up the front. It had been hidden near the back of the closet. "Here we go."

Alyse took one look and smiled. "Wow, that's old. I don't think I've worn it since I was breastfeeding Charlie."

"Are you trying to make the nightgown feel old, or me?" Cal teased as he helped her into it.

"The nightgown of course. I wouldn't want to hurt your fragile feelings." Alyse moved away from him before he could come around to do up the buttons. "Hold on, I need to check my bandaging before bed."

"Here, let me help," Cal followed her into the bathroom.

"I don't need to change it," Alyse replied with a small shake of her head. "Just make sure it's in place."

Cal stopped in the doorway, and just watched as Alyse carefully checked her bandages, then buttoned her nightgown. He had a feeling it would be a while before he saw her chest again. "All okay?"

She turned away from the mirror and nodded. "All okay."

"Great, then come here," he held out his arms, "Because tonight you're going to be cuddled like you've never been cuddled before."

She slid easily into his waiting arms. "This, I can't wait to see."

February 15th, 1986

Ian couldn't have written it better if he'd tried! He was in a great mood as he walked onto the set Monday morning with a copy of Star-light in his hand. Bella Yardley's exclusive on AFA night was a multi-page spread with color images and snippets from interviews on the carpet with big names, and of course the winners. Much to Ian's delight, she'd given an entire two paragraphs exclusively to talking about Bonnie. She had called Bonnie "charming, natural, friendly, and stylish" and even commented on the fact that the designer was beautiful enough to model herself, but tastefully modest. Bella had gone on to compliment Bonnie's work for both her win, and the selection in stores, before ending with the juicy tidbit Ian had been expecting.

Perhaps the most interesting news to our readers, however, may be the fact that this talented woman has perhaps snagged one of the most eligible bachelors in Amestris. Miss Walsh arrived at tonight's awards with none other than Ian Elric on her arm, and during her acceptance speech thanked him, even referring to him as her boyfriend. When asked on the carpet how she got Ian as her date, she responded with this lovely little enigmatic reply. "He begged."

Ian liked that, at that point, she went on to discuss the next award winner instead of diving into the speculation he was sure would be all astir from that alone. He expected it to come up in interviews sometime in the near future. That was all right, he knew exactly how to answer them. Of course I begged. Have you seen my girlfriend? His intelligent, talented, beautiful girlfriend, who had told the entire world-or at least anyone who bothered to follow the AWAs or Ian's career- that they were officially an item. Afterwards, Bonnie had admitted that she knew it would probably start a press-storm, but that she had accepted it would have to come eventually; why not let it come at a high point when she could control it?

His very sensible girlfriend. Ian was humming as he walked up to the open door of wardrobe. He stopped when he heard voices. Bonnie's voice… and Angie's. Stepping up to the door, he peeked inside.

Angie had planted herself in front of Bonnie and was holding a copy of the same magazine. "—really expect people to believe this garbage?"

Bonnie, who was holding an armload of costumes, looked irritated. "Which part don't you believe?" she asked with measured calm. "That I won, that I'm talented? One is a fact, and the other is the writer's opinion. I don't control what they write."

"Oh, please." Angie snorted in disgust. "This bullshit about you dating Ian of course."

"You were at the awards, weren't you?" Bonnie asked, even though she and Ian knew full well that Angie had attended. Anyone who considered themselves to be anyone in the business had been there. Angie, however, hadn't been nominated for anything personally, though one of her films—in which she had played a supporting role—had been up for best picture.

"Ian has escorted dozens of women to events. That doesn't mean he's dated them all."

"Like you," Bonnie nodded. Angie's face turned red. "Unlike you, however, I don't lie about my personal life. For once, a reporter has written a completely factual report of what someone said. Imagine that?"

Angie slammed the magazine down on the nearest flat surface. "I told you not to mess with Ian."

"And I don't care what you said," Bonnie retorted, scowling. "You don't have any authority to dictate what Ian does with his time, or who he does it with. You're not his girlfriend. You're not even his friend. Just because you played romantic co-stars on a film doesn't give you any claim to him."

"Oh, and you do?"

Bonnie's expression steeled, and Ian almost intervened. He knew that face. That was a good old country you don't mess with me or my man face. Thankfully, Bonnie knew better than to deck Angie in the face. "You being blind to what goes on around you isn't my problem, and I don't owe you an explanation. Now get out of my way, and if you mess with my boyfriend again, we'll deal with this the old fashioned way."

For a moment, Angie looked unsure, then her expression schooled to one of haughty disdain. "Peasant. How dare you speak to me like-"

"-like what?" Ian asked as he stepped through the door. "An equal? You're right Angie, how dare she give you more respect than you deserve."

Angie started to smile, then realized he had insulted her. "Ian! What a nice-"

"Shut it," Ian cut her off, letting his anger show on his face. "I heard the whole conversation. So, let's get this straight once and for all."

"But-"

"Listen up," he growled, his voice dropping. "You're a selfish bitch and I'm sick of you mucking about with my life. I don't like you. We're not friends, and we never have been. We're colleagues, nothing more."

Angie smirked. "You mean to tell me you didn't enjoy having your hands all over me?"

"Not really, no," Ian replied without hesitation. "A body doesn't make a person, and your personality is as ugly as they come."

He wondered if Angie's eyes could go any wider. "How dare you—"

"What, be honest?" he sniffed derisively. "You wouldn't know truth if it bit you. Now listen up. If you ever talk like that to Bonnie again, or stick your nose into my business, I will not only take your behavior to Tanner, I'll take it to the media."

Angie glanced over at Bonnie. "You must really put out to get this kind of loyalty."

And...line crossed. Ian felt his temper snap, but he forced it down. "That's it. You're done here. Get out."

"I have to get my—"

"Out!" he bellowed, pointed towards the door hard enough that whoever was coming in stopped dead. He didn't look to see who it was. He no longer cared. "Just because you're easy you think everyone else is as pathetic as you are. For your information, Bonnie didn't win me over by sleeping with me. We haven't even done that. She's kind, and smart, and honest, and hardworking, and she cares about people." He stepped forward, and Angie took a step back, running into the table behind her. Her expression had turned to horror. "She's everything you're not and maybe, if you want someone to love you one day, you should try taking notes instead of putting her down, cause she's the whole package. You...you're just a face with a bad attitude."

There were tears glistening at the edge of Angie's eyes as she pushed past him and ran for the door. He let her go.

Behind him, a small crowd started cheering and clapping.

Ian took a long, deep breath, and turned to Bonnie. "Are you okay?"

She looked stunned, but not upset. "Yeah, I'm fine. I've just never seen you lay into someone like that."

"I'm sick of her bullshit," Ian admitted, glancing at the door, where people were now coming in. It looked like half of make-up and wardrobe had heard him. No wonder they were clapping. Rafael gave him a thumbs up as he passed. "I had to put her in her place."

"And how." Bonnie sidled up to him, arms still full of costumes she had been taking somewhere. She leaned over and up and kissed him briefly. "Thanks, though what took you so long? You said you hear the whole conversation."

Ian smiled. "What can I say? I like a girl who can defend herself. You didn't need me. I just got sick of listening to Angie run her mouth."

"Well, need you or not, I appreciate what you said." Bonnie smiled coyly. "Don't make plans, handsome. Tonight is now officially date night."

His stomach flipped, but it was a pleasant sensation. "Don't worry. I'm all yours."


It wasn't the first time Charlie had ever been in trouble at school, but being suspended had certainly been the worst, and highest profile. The last time he'd spent an afternoon in detention had been in middle school, before he and Gill had landed girlfriends and had better things to do than pull pranks and crack jokes in class.

So while there were a couple of people glancing his way on Monday, for the most part school was business-as-usual. It was a large school, and Charlie was hardly the highest profile kid in the building. By lunch, he knew that while he'd been out, there had been two guys suspended for fighting in the middle of the cafeteria, and another had been caught smoking out behind the gym.

He kept his head down, did his classwork, and tried not to make eye contact with teachers. The worst part of the day was that, by lunch, he hadn't received a note from Shelby, and she had studiously avoided even glancing his direction during classes.

Charlie felt his heart lift briefly when he saw Marlena crossing the cafeteria not long after he and Gill sat down to eat, but it dropped quickly as he saw Marlena's face. "I've got an message… it's a verbal one," she added when Charlie held out his hand. "Shelby's parents went through her locker and…they found a couple of the notes."

Charlie's stomach sank to join his heart. "Which ones?"

"I don't know, but they're really mad. They told her that if she doesn't stop writing you, they'll move her to another school." Her eyes were wide, and he could tell she wasn't bluffing, which meant Shelby's parents weren't bluffing. "They mean it."

He couldn't let that happen. Shit…shit. SHIT! Charlie took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Thanks, Marlie. I… I don't even know what to tell her." Doing anything that would get Shelby moved would kill her. She was involved in so many activities, and on committees, and her friends were here… starting over again mid-junior year in high school would be a horror story. He couldn't do that. "Tell her…I love her, and I promise not to do anything to get her in trouble."

Marlena looked like that might be the sweetest thing she had ever heard. She smiled briefly at Gill. "You could learn to talk like that, you know." Then she turned and headed back to her table.

"Thanks, man," Gill quipped. "Showing me up in front of my girl."

He was kidding, Charlie knew. He shrugged, sighed, and went back to his food. "Fat lot of good it's done me. What am I going to do?"

"What can you do?" Gill asked sensibly, as he picked up a fry. "You heard Marlie. You can't even send notes. Best thing you can do is lie low for a while, wait for it all to blow over. Then maybe you can do something."

"Funny," Charlie said around a bite of his burger. "That's exactly the advice my dad gave me."


Author's Note 9/12/2016: Another chapter at last! A nice long one. This school year has hit with a vengeance. I've got a third again the number of students I had last year, and some research-heavy courses to work on of my own. Gotta love Grad School. All good work mostly, but time intensive! We're almost through this one. :) Thanks for your patience.