Chapter 36

Pride could be scary, Wrath thought, peering out from behind a corner, watching as he marched some girl along the corridor. The girl kept twisting in his grip and Wrath could see the tear tracks speeding down her cheeks. He wondered why she was here. Dante was walking in front of Pride and the girl, and she could be even scarier than Pride. Wrath wasn't sure whether he should follow them or just go and hide. Sloth, his mommy, would be looking for him, he knew, but she didn't have time to play right now. And Pride and Dante with this girl – maybe it was a secret. And if he knew what the secret was, he could use it later.

He scrabbled after the trio, keeping low to the ground. It wouldn't do any good if he was seen, especially if they were keeping this a secret. And wouldn't Mommy be proud if he told the secret to her?

Maybe it would help them. Maybe this girl would help them be stronger – though Wrath wasn't sure he believed that. That girl with the sunny yellow hair, she'd been nice to him, she'd taken care of him. So had that lady with the braided hair. Maybe this girl would be nice, too? Girls were nicer, after all, except for Dante. Pride ignored him and Mommy took care of him, but Dante was just plain mean.

Wrath paused, realizing they'd stopped ahead. He'd have to be careful, not get carried away. Crouching down, he peeked out from behind some rubble, watching and listening. He didn't want Dante to see him and make him leave, not until he knew what the secret was about this girl.

Rose shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. She knew she couldn't get away, not with the tall, broad man following her. Her skin prickled, like someone was watching her. Rose knew that feeling, hated it. It reminded her of Lior. A soft exhalation of a prayer escaped her, a plea. She wanted her baby. She wanted to go home. She didn't ever want to see Lyra again.

As if she'd heard, Lyra glanced over her shoulder. The slight curl of her lips made Rose's mouth go dry. Words evaporated, along with any thought she might've had of begging for mercy.

"I've been looking for you," Lyra sing-songed, turning completely around to face Rose, her skirts flouncing with the movement. "It's been so long since we've seen each other and we were so close." The pout didn't seem faked but Rose shivered anyway, wincing when Lyra brushed a thumb over her cheek. The woman's touch seemed to burn Rose's skin. "I knew all your secrets, everything your heart desired." Lyra smiled then, something that looked real and kind. "What you wanted for your baby. What you wanted for yourself." She dropped her voice. "What would you say, Rose, if I could bring you your heart's desire?"

"Y-you can't." Rose shook her head, taking a step away from Lyra, smashing into a broad chest and nearly falling. Two hands grasped her upper arms, keeping her upright. She flailed against their grip, images, memories of the soldiers' touch, the things they did to her, making her squeal and kick in remembered pain. "No! Don't do this, please!"

"But I want to give you everything you've ever wanted." Lyra walked around her, forcing Rose to turn her head to keep her in sight. She trembled, her knees threatening to give way. If not for the man holding her upright, Rose was sure she'd be in a heap on the dusty floor. "Don't you want to be with Edward Elric again?"

His name almost seemed a balm to her, a lifeline to grab and hold on to. Rose spoke in a whisper, barely daring to hope. "Where…where is he?" Her hands fluttered up to her chest, fingers twisting together.

Lyra stopped in front of her, a frown lacing her brows together. "You don't know?"

Rose shook her head slowly. "He…he was in Lior, remember?" Lyra had to remember. Ed had knocked Lyra and Scar out and made some of the Liorans carry them out of the city. Ed was afraid people would get hurt and he didn't want that to happen. "I haven't seen him since then. Do you know where he is?"

"This complicates matters." The man's voice rumbled up through her back, making Rose twitch uncomfortably. In her hopes of finding out something about Ed, she'd almost forgotten he was there.

"Hush." Lyra's amethyst glare ricocheted up to the man's single eye before darting back down to capture Rose's gaze again. "Rose, we've been looking for Edward, ourselves, but he's…in hiding. I think he's trying to find you but not let anyone know. The military, Rose," Lyra caught hold of her hands, gently pulling her away from the man, "the military is looking for him."

"But he's a State Alchemist." Rose shook her head, her bangs dancing. It made no sense.

"The military wasn't happy with how he handled Lior, Rose." Lyra squeezed her hands tight. "That's why I think he's trying to find you, so you can explain what happened."

Rose stared down into Lyra's eyes. "Me?"

"You were the last one with him before he left Lior. He disappeared right after that, Rose. Vanished." She released one of Rose's hands to make a gesture like a flower head opening. "No one's seen him since."

Swallowing hard, Rose felt her eyes sting. "He's not dead!"

Lyra shook her head slowly. "No, no, we never thought he was dead. I'm sorry you came to that conclusion. Edward's too strong to die." She glanced at the man behind Rose then brought her gaze back, meeting Rose's eyes steadily. "But with the military looking for him, I thought he might have contacted you secretly. All we want to do is help him. If you knew where he was, we could offer him that assistance. Or maybe you'd like to search for him yourself. We could help you do that."

"Where would I even start?" Rose considered the idea, her brow furrowing. "I'd think he'd come to Central."

"Why?" Lyra tilted her head to the side, a curious expression lighting her face.

Rose shrugged. "Because it's Central. Where else would he go to clear his name with the military?"

"She does have a point," the large man said, his voice trailing off as Lyra's eyes narrowed.

"If he'd never seen you." The words came out sounding flat and Lyra released Rose's hands, taking a few steps away, turning her back on them both. "This complicates things." Folding her arms, she tapped her fingers on her elbows. "Perhaps we should have left him in Sloth's hands."

"I need Sloth close. She's useful, after all."

Turning back, Lyra sighed. "What's done is done." Her expression became distant. "That boy destroyed too much of our family."

Rose screwed up her face, trying to follow the conversation as it volleyed back and forth. Her head swiveled to watch the pair, her frown deepening as they spoke. "What do you mean? Edward killed someone?" He must have had a good reason. Ed was a good man. He wouldn't just hurt anyone.

"Yes." Lyra turned to Rose, almost as if she'd realized she was in the room again. "Edward Elric killed Pride's siblings," she gestured to the man, "four of them. Though I have to admit," her mouth curled faintly, "I did give him the knowledge he needed to destroy the one. Greed was altogether too greedy."

Shivering, Rose took a step away from Lyra. She had no friends here, she understood that. Lyra had only brought her here because she wanted to find Ed. Stand up and walk, he'd told her, so long ago, and she'd tried, she'd tried so hard to follow his example. Biting back a sob, Rose clenched her fists. What would he do now, surrounded by his enemies, in a place like this room? "Even if I knew where Ed was, I wouldn't tell you!"

Lyra sighed. "I thought you might say that." With a dismissive wave of her hand, she spun on her heel. "Take care of her, Pride."

Rose felt her heart beat slow as the tall man turned her way. Her memory plastered the face of every soldier who'd raped her onto his body. The underground room seemed to have gotten very cold and Rose was sure she'd have frostbite. Her limbs felt frozen and didn't want to move, no matter how much she tried to make them. For every stumbling step she managed to take away from the man, he seemed to move that much closer.

"You won't suffer." The promise fell like stones in her skull, rattling around and echoing there.

"No." As she backed away, Rose stumbled on the uneven flooring, almost falling. She crashed into the wall, her hands grasping at it, scrabbling on the old plaster as she tried to keep her footing.

"I'm sorry, my dear." The tall man showed her a sword, the point of it drenched in scarlet, the rich color saturating the wavering air around the blade. "But there really was no other way."

Wrath slapped his hands over his mouth to keep from yelling. Pride was so fast! Wrath hadn't even seen him draw his sword and it was just there, in his hand, with blood dripping down the blade. Pride watched the girl tumble to the floor, his face like a statue. Wrath was glad Pride never looked at him that way. It was scary, even scarier than the way Dante scowled at him. He wished he knew why Pride killed the lady. She might've been able to tell them where that Edward was. Maybe she was like Mommy and knew that sort of thing but was keeping it a secret.

Now, they'd never find that out.

"Oh."

The voice made Wrath jump, sending his back against the wall. He recognized the big man, sort of. He flinched when the man ruffled his hair as he walked past, then craned out far enough to look through the doorway.

The big man frowned down at the lady. He took off his glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief. "Pride, I don't understand why you killed her."

"Dante's orders, Hohenheim." Pride wiped his sword the same way the big man wiped his glasses.

Hohenheim was a funny name and Wrath said it to himself a few times. Before he knew it, he was giggling and he had to cover his mouth again.

Pride stuck the sword back in its sheath. "And now, I have a country to run." Turning on his heel, he marched out of the room, leaving Hohenheim behind with the dead lady.

"You can come out now, Wrath. Everyone's gone."

Wrath peered through the door, surprised that Hohenheim knew he was still there. A little afraid, he crept out until he stood near the lady's feet. He thought she had pretty hair and wondered if he could make his hair look like that.

"She was a very sweet girl." Hohenheim squatted, moving the lady's hair off her face. "I'm sorry, Rose. I should probably let you rest in peace but we're in need of more of our family." He smiled at Wrath. "Maybe you'd like a sister, hmm?"

"Her?" Wrath kicked his bare foot against the lady's shoe, wrinkling his nose.

"Yes." Hohenheim pulled a piece of chalk out of his pocket – a trick! Wrath was surprised Hohenheim knew one – and started drawing on the floor. "I'm sorry I can't offer you a piece of chalk to draw, son, but I'm afraid this is a little complicated and I have to make sure I do it right."

Wrath stepped back, standing in the doorway arch, his lower lip stuck out in a pout. As he watched Hohenheim draw, he realized something, lifting his foot to stare at the red mark on it. "You're really gonna make her one of us?"

Hohenheim sat back, dusting his hands off. "That's right, son." He pushed his glasses up on his nose, tossing the piece of chalk to Wrath. He fumbled the chalk but caught it without dropping it, holding it up and grinning. Hohenheim smiled back. "Just watch." Digging his right thumb down the center of his left palm, Hohenheim dripped a couple drops of blood onto the circle. A light flared up, making Wrath jump back, though Hohenheim didn't seem to notice, putting his hands down on the circle itself.

A funny smell made Wrath sneeze twice. By the time he'd wiped his nose on the back of his hand, the light from the circle had gotten brighter. Wind whipped around the room, making Wrath's hair tangle in front of his face. He shoved the strands from his eyes while taking a step out of the room. Whatever was going on, he didn't want to be caught up and sucked into that wind.

The light got even brighter. A sound, like a crash of thunder, sent Wrath out of the room, eyes wide and chest heaving. It shouldn't sound like that inside! He heard another roar and dropped to his haunches, covering his head. The light from in the room sneaked between his closed eyelids. Whimpering, Wrath curled into a tighter ball. He wanted to make it stop. It hurt inside him, where his heart thudded so hard against his chest. His fingernails cut into his skin and tears rushed down his cheeks. The sound, the sensations, coming from that room, it reminded him of that place, that place he'd stayed at for so long, with the white white white going on forever and that strange little boy, who said such awful things, and the hands that never ever let go –

"It's all right now, Wrath." A hand patted his shoulder and Wrath carefully uncurled, rubbing his wet eyes and mouth. Hohenheim smiled at him but it wasn't the friendly grin from earlier. Still, it was a smile and Wrath couldn't help but smile back. When Hohenheim offered Wrath his hand, he took it, letting the big man pull him to his feet. "Come in, Wrath." He tugged Wrath into the room, where nothing had changed and everything had. The scent of blood was gone but the lady still lay there on the floor. Wrath gasped as her pretty hair changed colors in front of him, starting from the roots and spilling down to the ends, becoming dark as night. Her bangs changed color, too, the pink being submerged by a color that reminded Wrath of algae on a stagnant pond.

The lady's eyes opened, blinking a few times, and she raised her hand, slowly tracing the line of her ribs. Her palm stopped on the bloody spot on her dress, fingers exploring the rent in the fabric. "I died." She sat up suddenly, so fast Wrath jumped back. Her eyes wide, she twisted her body, trying to get a good look at her side. "I died." Her hands fluttered up to her face, pulling at her skin, pinching her cheeks. "I died!"

"Hush, now." Hohenheim caught the lady's hands, pulling them away. "It's all right. You came back."

She raised her eyes to him, tears running down her cheeks. "He was wrong?"

"Who?" Hohenheim patted her hands, rubbing the backs of them with his thumb. Wrath crept a little closer, looking over the big man's shoulder at the lady. Her hair was pretty still, he thought, in a different way. "Who was wrong?"

"Edward." Something scary happened to her face. "He told me people couldn't come back from the dead. Why did he say that?" Her teeth glittered, reminding Wrath of Envy's smile when he was really mad. "Why did he lie like that?"

"Edward Elric?" Wrath clenched his fists. "I want him dead!"

"Easy, both of you." Though Hohenheim spoke softly, Wrath felt like he was yelling. How was he so scary, anyway? "Edward's right. Most of the time, you can't bring anyone back from the dead." His expression strained, he went on, "Not and have them be the same person as the one who is dead, at least."

"I'm not the same?" The lady looked so dumb then, it was all Wrath could do not to laugh at her.

"No, I'm sorry, you're not. You're not human any more, Rose." Hohenheim rubbed his thumbs over the backs of her hands again and let them go. "You're not Rose any more. You're a homunculus."

"A what?"

"You're like Wrath, here." Hohenheim patted him on the shoulder. "Someone tried to bring him back from the dead."

"What does this mean?" Lifting her hands, the lady turned them over, looking at the red mark on the inside of the left one.

Wrath raised his foot, sticking it toward the lady's face. "Means you're like me." She pulled back a little, her nose wrinkling, and Wrath stomped his foot down on the floor.

"So if I'm not Rose anymore," she stared at the mark on her palm, using the first finger of her left hand to trace it, "who am I?"

Hohenheim got to his feet, smiling a little. "I guess we'll find out in good time." He offered her his hand and the lady took it, letting him help her up. "Just one question." She looked at him, brushing her bangs out of her eyes impatiently. "Were you and Edward Elric actually romantically involved?"

A slow curl of her mouth made Wrath shiver and want to step back outside of the room. He'd seen a smile like that before and it scared him just as much then, even though it had been on someone else's face.

"What's wrong, old man, are you jealous?" She flipped her hair back over her shoulders, pulling loose from Hohenheim.

"Not in the least." He slid his hands in his pockets. His grin wasn't scary at all to look at but there was something in his eyes that made Wrath want to never get Hohenheim angry at him. "But I would like an answer to my question."

The lady reached over, tousling Wrath's hair. He tried to smooth it back into place, giving her a nasty look that made her laugh. "Want all you like, old man. Some things," she leaned down, wrapping an arm around Wrath's shoulders, "are secrets, right, kid?"

It was difficult not to smile at the sight of Major Armstrong awaiting her at her husband's grave. He inclined his head to her as she approached, stepping aside so Gracia could pay her respects to the empty grave. A spray of red tulips already brightened Maes' headstone, providing a contrast to the lilies she placed next to them. "I wasn't expecting to see you here." Lies, of course, but necessary. There were other mourners close by and Gracia knew better than to alert them to anything unusual. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, keeping a close hold on the frilly piece of cotton.

"I'm afraid that I have been remiss in paying my respects," Alex Louis said, his moustache bristling. "Time has gotten away from me."

"Yes, I'm afraid it gets away from all of us." Gracia patted the granite stone familiarly. It seemed far too normal to her now, that the stone with her husband's name on it marked nothing. The fewer people who knew that, the better, though she wished that certain people could be told.

"Perhaps, Mrs. Hughes, you would like to share a cup of tea with me? I know an excellent café, not too far away." At her slight hesitation, Alex Louis offered his arm. "I promise, there are also lovely pastries. None so delicious as your apple pies, however, you should come with me. It's a beautiful day and you deserve a respite."

"When you put it that way, how can I refuse?" Gracia slipped her hand through his crooked arm, letting him lead her from the tombstone. The walk to the café was indeed pleasant. Alex Louis had always been a charming man, Gracia thought. If it was believed he might be visiting with his previous commander's wife for reasons other than paying his respects, she wouldn't mind.

Their chatter was just that, a simple conversation between two people who enjoyed each other's company. The Major promised to bring slips of cuttings to her to plant in her garden and praised her for the roses he'd seen growing there earlier. Gracia offered in return to make him a peach cobbler, something different than her usual apple pie.

They stopped in the café, ordering tea and pastries, and chatted as they drank and ate. If anyone had been listening, Gracia was sure they would've been bored with Alex Louis' questions about Elicia and tales about his sister, Olivia, who was known as 'the Wall of Briggs', and commanded the troops stationed in the Briggs Mountains.

"She sounds daunting, Major." Gracia took a sip of her rose tea, thinking that he was right, this was an exceptional café. If only she had found out about it prior to Maes' 'death' or before Roy and Riza went into hiding.

"My eldest sister is a strong willed individual, well equipped to handle anything that Drachma might decide to toss her way." Alex Louis smoothed his moustache with his napkin, cleaning away any crumbs from his cream cheese puff. "I am afraid she lives up to all my family's expectations." There was a hint of sorrow in his voice, as if he had failed to do the same.

Gracia knew Alex Louis had returned from the wars a shattered man. His heart was too big for such a thing as destroying another race. Maes, Roy and Riza had suffered as well, not just from the war but from the predations of Sherman. Her knuckles whitened as she thought of that evil man, of how Sherman had now hurt another person she cared about. It had to stop, Gracia told herself, he must be stopped before he touched another young man.

If only she had a way to accomplish that. Who would believe her, though? Alex Louis, certainly, but this was something that they needed to take care of together. Sherman had nearly succeeded in destroying Roy, once a long time ago; now he'd harmed Ed, too.

"Mrs. Hughes? Are you feeling quite all right?" Alex Louis' hand gently wrapped around her own, a comforting sensation of strength and warmth. "You look pale. Should I call you a cab?"

"No, I'm sorry, Major." Gracia mustered a smile for him. "Dismal thoughts do not belong to such a lovely day."

"But for a wife still grieving." His eyes warmed with compassion and Gracia thought that Maes had been correct in requesting Alex Louis work with him in Investigations. Maybe the Armstrong family had a long history of acting abilities, too, but she would be willing to wager Alex Louis was a far sight more talented at it than his militant sister in Briggs. "It is difficult, I'm sure."

Gracia lowered her head slightly, playing the part. "It has been hard. Elicia has so many questions I can't answer." That much was certainly true. "She wants to know when her Daddy is coming home." She wasn't the only one, either but at least Gracia knew the truth. Lying to Elicia wasn't easy but little girls didn't know the real meaning of 'secrets', either. And, Gracia thought wryly, probably wouldn't until she was a teen and wanting to keep secrets from her parents. "And speaking of my little girl, I should be collecting her from her sitter." Gracia allowed Alex Louis to assist her from her chair, protesting when he insisted he would pay for their refreshments and the pastries he bought not only for Elicia, but her sitter and Gracia as well.

He walked her part of the way home before taking his polite leave, bowing his head over Gracia's hand in a formal goodbye. Gracia almost wished she could send Elicia to the Armstrong mansion, if her daughter could learn such manners. Though who knew what else she might learn there, she thought, with a shake of her head.

As she rounded the corner of her block, Gracia saw someone standing at the door of the house. Schooling the frown from her face, she pushed open the gate, thinking she needed to oil it soon. Then again, it was an excellent alarm, that particular squeal. "Mr. Todd?"

He gave her a weary smile, nodding at her greeting. "I apologize for coming over without contacting you first, Mrs. Hughes."

"No, that's quite all right." Gracia unlocked the door and the young man held it open for her, allowing her to enter the house. She beckoned him inside, heading automatically for the kitchen. Mr. Todd followed her slowly, the sound of his tentative footsteps nothing like the rumble of Elicia's pounding feet or Maes' firm strides. Gracia swung the tea kettle over the burner, lighting it with a match. Tea would probably do the young man some good. Perhaps even one of Alex Louis' pastries. "Come in, Mr. Todd, and have a seat."

He all but tumbled into a chair, his elbows on the table, hands clasped tight. Mr. Todd pressed his forehead against his thumbs. "I'm not sure why I'm here, really, Mrs. Hughes." His laugh was soft and short. "I've been trying to find out what happened to Miss Sciezca and her mother but all the information has dried up."

Gracia took down a teapot and some cups, setting out a bowl of sugar and fetching some cream from the ice box. "You might find that to be," she hesitated, "dangerous, trying to track them down."

Mr. Todd made a self-depreciating noise. "Who am I to be a threat to anyone? I just want to know what happened to my patient." His dark eyes rose to meet hers. "But you seem to know something."

She knew that expression, having seen it far too many times on Maes' face. "Only that my husband was in Investigations and that seemed to be the reason he was killed." Her words came out sharper than Gracia wanted but they seemed to have the right effect on the young man at her table.

"I'm sorry." Mr. Todd sagged back in his chair. "I shouldn't have intruded." His hands fell onto the tabletop, the forefinger of his left hand tracing the grain of the wood. "I just didn't know where else to go. My parents, my family; they don't really understand." He laced his fingers together again. "I wanted to be more than a cattle farmer. Nelly – she has more interest in livestock than I ever did. She's good with the cows."

Gracia made a noncommittal noise in response, fetching the whistling kettle off the burner and turning the gas flame off. She poured the hot water in the pot to warm it. "Mr. Todd, I'm afraid I know absolutely nothing about cattle except they travel in herds and we get milk from them." Pouring the water out of the warmed pot, Gracia added tea leaves and poured the rest of the hot water over them.

"That's pretty much all I'd like to know about them, believe me." Mr. Todd shivered exaggeratedly. "Dumb, smelly beasts." His expression seemed a bit lighter than it had when she'd first seen him though as he realized he'd lost his original train of thought, his brows furrowed again. "I don't know what to do, Mrs. Hughes. Miss Sciezca was a kind person who obviously cared very much for her mother. I don't like not knowing where they are."

Bowing her head, Gracia whispered, "You should probably stop wondering, Mr. Todd. Even if it hurts, you should try to forget them." The sweet scent of the steeping tea was at odds with her harsh words. "Don't try to follow their trail. It could lead to more pain for you and for your family." She looked up then, fixing him with her gaze. "Believe me, Mr. Todd, you do not want that."

"Then can you answer me one thing, Mrs. Hughes?" His dark eyes studied her closely. "Since you are their friend, can you tell me what happened to Alphonse Elric and Winry Rockbell?"

The building was quiet, drenched in the hazy glow of the pre-dawn. Izumi sat at the table in the kitchen, her rough fingers caressing the scarred wood. It was sturdy and functional, like most of the items in house. Only in the bedrooms did a desire for comfort come into play. Roy and Riza's – Shen and Carol's – room definitely was designed for comfort, with the satiny sheets and overabundance of pillows. Luxurious didn't quite describe that room though 'overblown' did come to Izumi's mind.

The smoky scent of tea rose in a tendril of steam and she took a sip of the dark brew. The flavor reminded her of certain spices used to flavor beef. It was a pleasant way to wake up and, Izumi thought, another expensive comfort. It suited Mustang's new persona, though, as did some of the other features of the house's interior.

On the other hand, the exterior was reminiscent of his previous life though it took a good eye to see the fortifications that had been made to the building and its courtyard walls. The cactus and yucca plants provided a simple yet effective deterrent to someone scaling the walls, though an alchemist would be able to kill the plants if the thought came up there was something important behind them. Of course, the walls themselves didn't offer any indication there might be anything of interest behind them. They appeared cracked and crumbling, as did the walls to the house itself. The two dogs provided a warning system nearly as old as time and Roy had mentioned that he thought another pair of dogs would be a good idea. The neighbors themselves were curious and friendly – always an excellent deterrent in and of themselves – and because they were also mechanics and surgeons and automailers, they worked all hours of the day and night. Someone was always on the street or in a shop or looking out a window and Shen and Carol had been quick to cultivate their neighbors as inadvertent allies. It was sound military practice, Izumi was sure, and Alphonse had fallen into it easily enough. Of course, he was a sweet-natured young man and might not realize why they were becoming such close friends with the neighbors. Taking a sip of her tea, Izumi decided it was doubtful Winry knew, either. The girl was naturally friendly and helpful and her neighbors – and automail mechanic who had accepted her apprenticeship – all touted her generous nature.

My apprentice was an idiot, Izumi thought, taking another swallow of her tea. The soft jingle alerted Izumi that she was coming. Rising, she moved to intercept Winry as the girl opened the door to let the dogs into the courtyard. "I need to speak to you."

Those guileless blue eyes stared up at her. They were so open, so easy to read. Right now, they evidenced confusion and concern. "Are you feeling okay, Mrs. Curtis? I know Al told me you were sick." Her mouth tightened slightly. "I don't really know a lot about medicine, that was Granny's specialty, but I'd do my best to help you."

The girl was sweet, perhaps too kind to be in the situation she was currently in. Life and death happened, however, and Izumi knew all too well what became of those who tried to change its path. "It's not something you can do to help me, Winry."

"No?" Obviously confused, Winry rocked back on her heels, jingling.

"You can do it to help Alphonse."

That got her attention, her gentle, concerned eyes sharpening to pinpoints. "What do you mean?"

Izumi gave her a smile, meant to be reassuring. From the girl's expression, it was anything but. "Did you think no one would notice your jewelry?" Winry's eyes widened, her gaze dropping down to her right ankle and the chain stretched around it, a charm dangling above her heel. Izumi's lowered her head as well, raising it as Winry lifted her chin. "That symbol you're wearing, did you think that someone wouldn't recognize it?"

"It's usually covered up by my boot." Her arms crossed over her chest, evidence of stubborn determination stamped across her face.

"This symbol?" Izumi tapped the tattoo on her upper breast. "The one that Ed wore on his jacket? What if an accident happened and someone removed your shoe and sock? Are you willing to take a chance that such a symbol, something that Edward Elric wore – flaunted – wouldn't be recognized? That someone might wonder why you had it?"

Jaw clenching, Winry muttered, "I thought it was an alchemic symbol."

"And you're no alchemist." Izumi liked the girl but that didn't mean she should be taking chances without anyone telling her of the dangers.

"No." She raised her chin a little higher. "But I'm studying alchemy."

Whatever Winry had been about to say, that was not what Izumi expected. She blinked at Winry, stunned into silence, trying that idea on for size. "You?" she finally sputtered out.

"Me." Her mouth tightened. "Don't get me wrong, Mrs. Curtis. I'm not an alchemist. I know I'm never going to be one. I'm an engineer. But," and here, Winry swallowed, her face becoming troubled and sad, "I want to know what it means. I want to understand what the circles are for. It's science; it's not scary." Izumi wasn't sure if Winry was saying that to herself or not. "I just need to know." Her voice broke off abruptly and Winry glanced away, blinking her eyes hard.

"I see." I had the stupidest apprentice, Izumi thought, laying a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. He couldn't see what was right in front of his eyes. "Why don't you get the books you're studying and I'll help you."

Her reward was Winry's smile, strained, but still like the sight of the sun after a heavy storm. "Thank you, Mrs. Curtis. I'd like that a lot."

Author's note: I apologize for not getting this chapter out sooner. I had it completed over a month ago and to my editor and then my computer crashed spectacularly. Fortunately, most of this chapter (and the future chapters already written...like, literally, years ago) were on my thumbdrive, so I didn't have to rewrite and/or cut and paste very much to put this chapter back together.

While I'm a little disappointed M.T. didn't get in the running in the U.F.O. awards, I do appreciate all of you who voted for me and my other stories in that contest. Thanks bunches!

I feel like I should do something special for the 300th commenter on this story, since that's going to happen very soon. What do ya'll think? The 300th commenter can ask a question or ask for a drabble based in this universe...? How's that?