A/N: Takes place during 'Conversations'.
Edward Elric stood in the shade of the tree and glared at the man sitting on a fallen log. "She's a pretty child." Hohenheim said cautiously, searching for a safe subject and finally landing on his granddaughter. "Grubby, though."
"She'll grow out of it." Ed said, his voice at arctic temperature. "She's four."
"Already? Time goes by so fast." Hohenheim sighed. "Before you know it, she'll be bullying that boy down the isle."
"Why does everyone keep saying that?"
"Logical parental observation."
"Like you know anything about being a parent." Ed spat.
Hohenheim stood and turned, his eyes sad. "I tried to be the best father I could to you and Alphonse."
"You left. You don't deserve to be called 'father'." Ed stalked out of the shelter of the trees. "If I ever see you here again – if you EVER go near Trisha – I. Will. Hurt. You." He growled, turning his back on his father.
"Too late." Hohenhein whispered, watching his son and granddaughter from the darkness.