"You're late."

Ed twitched, pulling the door shut with a bit more force than he had intended, and turned, a grand selection of angry retorts ready on his tongue. Which all died a rather abrupt death as Ed took in the details of the tableau before him.

Hohenheim sat on the couch, in a position that would appear perfectly relaxed, if one didn't know him well enough. Ed noticed the telltale signs of the man's anxiety- the full, obviously very cold cup of coffee, the haphazardly placed books covering most of the coffee table…the fact his coat sat near at hand and his boots were on.

"Do I have some sort of curfew now?" Ed muttered, a rather uncomfortable and very unaccustomed chagrin hunching his shoulders defensively. Hohenheim remained silent, just gazed at his tardy son, a rather odd look in his eyes. Ed narrowed his own, trying to make a connection….

….oh.

"Shit, you were worried about me, weren't you?"

Finally his father deigned answer him, straightening a bit. "And why shouldn't I?"

Ed sputtered a moment, trying to figure out if he was offended or…well...touched or something.

"You're, in essence, the only family I have. Give me a good reason why I shouldn't worry when you are gone well into the night?" Hohenheim stood.

"You didn't seem to care much a couple of years ago." Ed spat, instantly regretting the outburst as a hard glint filled Hohenheim's eyes.

"Just because some of us choose not to learn from their mistakes…" Hohenheim growled.

It was one of those moments Ed remembered just how…big his father was. And how good at looming…

Ed must have appeared as intimidated as he felt, for Hohenheim appeared to…well, deflate into something less imposing. With a sigh he scratched the back of his head. "I really don't want to fight right now. Can we save this for a more decent hour, perhaps tomorrow over breakfast?"

"Eh…that's alright." Ed muttered, unconsciously mirroring his fathers nervous scratching.

Caught at a sort of impasse, father and son stared at each other. Hohenheim caught the mirrored actions a second before Ed, and chuckled quietly, inspiring a truly daunting glare from his son. Raising his hands in self-defense, Hohenheim cut the chuckle back to a crooked smile. "Well, I am going to get some sleep."

"It's past your bed time, old bastard." Ed grumbled. "I am not tired."

"Why don't you have some warm milk? It will help you sleep."

Hohenheim ducked into his room just in time. Baiting Ed was all well and good, but he did want to live to see the morning…