Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. Not making any money of this. Love the idea of Ed and Roy.
Chapter 5: Reunion
Alphonse cast a worried eye on the man walking silently beside him. Auric seemed preoccupied with something he was turning over in his mind. Was it something he had said on the train? They had talked to pass the time, and Al had found himself going into more detail on their adventures, and on Ed's ability to perform alchemy without a transmutation circle, and on the knowledge the Gate of Truth bestowed – at a price, of course. Auric had had lapsed into monosyllables shortly thereafter. Professional interest in the Gate of Truth as a Gatekeeper?
"Auric?" No response. "Auric?" he nudged.
"What? Oh, sorry. Just thinking, nothing to worry about." Auric smiled blandly, but his eyes glittered. Al had noticed that Auric's eyes were rarely still, except when he was really listening to you or wanted you to listen to him. The rest of the time they were always shifting, near, then far, left to right, a full sweep, cataloging his surroundings. Ed had never been that way, but then, he supposed, Ed had never really worried about his surroundings, being of the mind that he could charge in where angels feared to tread. His brother had not lacked for confidence in his powers.
Al frowned. When had he started thinking of Ed as independent from Auric? He didn't really want to think too hard about that, or about the sort of life that gave you Auric's eyes, so he addressed himself to the latter again. "What are you thinking about?"
"Various things. Including the fact that those men up there aren't really soldiers," Auric said pleasantly. Al twitched but managed to arrest the urge to spin around and start rubbernecking wildly in all directions. He finally let his head turn casually as if surveying the city in awe, as most rural residents did, and saw the group Auric had indicated strolling up ahead. They looked normal enough, all spit-and-polish uniforms and boots.
"Are you sure? They look pretty regular to me," Al questioned dubiously.
The golden-eyed man had already pulled his hood up and was leading Al deep into the main throng of the crowd. "Those uniforms are too new for their ranks. The ribbons make them career military and the medals indicate they've seen combat, but there are no signs of wear on their boots or holsters. No real soldier fails to break in his gear before using it, even if it's just been issued."
"Maybe they're transfers to Administrative Branch? We are in Central Command."
"Doesn't matter, old habits die hard. Keeps you alive," muttered Auric. "Bet you your General Mustang still checks his own gear. And look at the lines of their jackets - they're carrying concealed weapons in addition to their regular sidearms. Those weapons are top of the line, if your world is anything like mine. Believe me, the military doesn't get the best stuff, especially in wartime." He slipped through the crowd with a practiced ease that reminded Al forcibly that one of the Guild's specialties was spying. "Come on."
Al repressed a sigh and followed. Once Auric was set on something, there appeared to be no dissuading him of it. Just like Ed.
"He should have been here by now," Hawkeye fretted.
Havoc looked over. "Eh, Al's a pretty good alchemist, just like the boss was. I'm sure he can take care of himself."
"Al's more…peace-loving though," said Fury hesitantly.
A silence descended on the office. It was broken when General Mustang's door opened. He was rubbing the bridge of his nose as if to ease a tension headache. The office scrambled to its feet. "At ease, I'm just passing through. Al's not here yet?"
"No, sir."
"Well. He probably took the scenic route," sighed the General. "Hawkeye, I'm going to take a short walk to clear my head. And please suggest to Major Lee that he requisition a dictionary from the quartermaster, I'm starting to feel like a grammar teacher. Can that new pile of thrilling mission reports I see on your desk wait until I get back?"
Hawkeye tipped her head back thoughtfully. "Twenty minutes, General. And don't you go taking a scenic route either." She deliberately unholstered her gun and laid it on the table ostentatiously within reach. "I just got recertified."
The General rolled his eyes. "Understood, Captain."
"And you do have your gloves with you?" That last earned her a sharp look. "Sir, you know there are a good number of people who want you d…."
She was cut off as he swept out the door. "It's a trial being irresistible!" was the smug reply that floated back to them.
Havoc huffed, and made a note to himself not to meet his date at the office tonight. Or at least, not until his CO had left. Hawkeye gave him a Look, and he rose reluctantly, shuffling off after his CO. They made it a habit to tail him, just in case. Of course, he wasn't supposed to know about it.
Their quarry was a man of habit. They knew what time he rose, what time the military car would be by to pick him up for the drive to his office, and how he liked his morning coffee (black). He rarely had lunch outside his office unless he was headed to a lunch meeting. He didn't take tea. He rarely left the office before 8 in the evening, unless he had a social obligation. The latter being increasingly rare during this time of war.
They also knew he typically took a walk in the late morning as the first cup of coffee began to wear off. That was what they were counting on.
Roy Mustang took a deep breath and sighed. He remembered a time when the air in Central City didn't smell of smoke, and dust, and general depression. Of course, he had been much younger then. They all had. Funny what a few years could do to you.
Still, the walk was pleasant enough. The habit had started when they had run out of coffee one day before he had had his second cup. After Hawkeye had restrained him from singeing the hapless petty officer in charge of stores, he had stomped out to the nearest café to find some. It had been a surprisingly beautiful day, and on the way back from the café he had realized that it was more the physical activity of the walk that was waking him up rather than the coffee. And being an organized man, Roy Mustang had incorporated a daily walk into his schedule then and there.
Hawkeye was right of course, it did leave him vulnerable. But he was still the Flame Alchemist, and the hands buried in his coat pockets were gloved. He would be fine. Not a cloud in the sky. And anyway, he knew one of his staff would be following him, watching his back. Not that he ever let them know he knew, of course. He paused at a corner, then turned deliberately in the direction of the train station.
He had to admit he had an ulterior motive for walking this way. He was hoping to run into Alphonse Elric. The Elrics were punctilious about sending him holiday cards, generally with an updated family photo tucked into the envelope, so he was pretty sure he would recognize Alphonse, even though the boy had grown into a man. Taller and a little broader than Edward would have been, rounder of face like the old pictures he had seen of Trisha Elric, Alphonse was Earth where Edward had been Metal. He wondered idly if little Edwina would be like her father or her uncle.
Lost in thought, he nearly bumped into a soldier sauntering by. That in and of itself was odd, given that most soldiers gave officers a wide berth, especially well-known, conspicuous Major-Generals-who-were-also-State-Alchemists. Stranger yet that the man wasn't apologizing for the near miss, but was instead bringing out a hand from under his coat. Roy's fingers twitched in his pocket and suddenly his hands were free, having simply burned their way out of his coat as expediency won out over the thought of ruining yet another uniform. The man grinned – and dove neatly out of the way as a bucket of water came splashing down from a window above onto Roy, followed shortly by the bucket. Roy managed to avoid the latter, but the former had soaked his gloves thoroughly. Grimacing in disgust at his own carelessness, the General stripped off his gloves even as he ducked and rolled behind the cover of a delivery cart.
There were at least four of them that he could see, he realized, sizing up the situation. He hoped it was Hawkeye's turn to follow him; she would easily dispatch at least two of them, or possibly the lot, depending on how annoyed she was about the delay on the reports. Pedestrians were screaming and diving for cover as his would-be assassins opened fire with…crap, they were using air guns. No sparks for him to utilize. These guys were prepared, which, he supposed, was vaguely flattering, but not terribly helpful right at this instant. Now, where was the chalk he knew he kept on him? The dry cleaners were always on him about the mess it made in his pockets.
"General!" came a horrified voice behind him. He turned in surprise as a sandy-haired young man flung himself to the ground next to him in hail of splinters.
"Alphonse! What are you doing?"
"Um…reporting for duty?" he offered up meekly, eyes widening as he peered around their rapidly disintegrating cover. "Four, right?"
"I believe so."
Alphonse smiled, looking a great deal like another Elric for a moment. "That's it? Okay, here goes," and he placed his hands together, then touched them lightly to the ground. Roy smiled inwardly – the younger of the Elric brothers had never quite taken to the theatricality of Fullmetal's technique. He could feel the thrum of alchemic energy rushing through the earth, followed by choked cries. The pair stood, dusting themselves off, and strolled out to view Alphonse's handiwork. Roy put a hand to his chin, considering.
"Not bad."
"An Elric aims to please."
Roy laughed. "I doubt your brother would have agreed with that. Good to see you, Alphonse. You've been missed." The younger man ducked his head bashfully as Havoc came running around the corner.
"What was that? General! Are you all right?" He started wild-eyed at the stone hands restraining the swearing attackers, then started to wring his hands as Roy and Alphonse watched in fascination. "Oh, the Captain's gonna kill me for sure, I was supposed to be watching your back, that girl must have been a deliberate distraction…."
Roy raised a daunting eyebrow. He was opening his mouth when Havoc yelped and reached for his gun. "Shit! General, get down!" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blur of movement and recognized the glint of sunlight on a gun-barrel.
So it had been five after all. He shut his eyes and hoped the shooter wasn't a crack marksman. Al was starting to bring his hands together, but he knew there wasn't time.
However, instead of the shot he expected to hear - and for that matter, feel – he heard a whisper like a blade cutting through the air and a choked cry. His eyes snapped open, and he gaped as a crimson splash bloomed in the shooter's forehead. As the man fell, a flash of sunlight glinted off the metal star that had buried itself between his brows. No one moved for a moment. Then an amused voice broke the hush. "You've got quite the fan club, eh, Mustang?"
Roy started. That hoarse voice had sounded…familiar.
A hooded figure jumped down from its perch on a drainpipe two stories up, landing lightly next to Alphonse, who turned but didn't seem surprised. "Auric…" the young man said, a note of warning in his voice, "You haven't exactly been…properly introduced to the General yet."
"What can I say," replied Roy smoothly, recovering. "It's a burden being so popular sometimes. And you've got a good arm."
Alphonse choked at that, for some reason. The mystery man shrugged under his weather-stained cloak. "You have no idea. I must be more tired than I thought though."
"And why is that?" Roy took the bait to see where this would lead.
"One: I just saved your ass without negotiating a signed contract. And two: I was aiming for his throat." Al was staring at him now, Auric knew, but he didn't want to meet those grey eyes. He knew what he would see. Shock, and hurt, and horror that Auric had just killed, easily and without hesitation.
It had taken a while for Auric to become comfortable with that himself.
"Who are you? Alphonse, how do you know him?" Roy finally asked, a cold edge in his voice. Havoc had come up to stand behind Roy's shoulder now, scowling at this unknown element in the equation.
Alphonse sighed. "Um…well…you see…."
A gentle hand on his sleeve stopped him. "Should we be doing this in the street?" drawled the stranger.
Havoc growled. "Got something to hide?"
The voice remained unnervingly collected, but there was a definite hint of irritation bleeding through now. "Everyone has something to hide, Lieutenant whoever-you-are. And…hang on, are you calling me short?"
Havoc nearly swallowed his cigarette. Roy paled. That leap of illogic could only be associated with one person. Alphonse winced. "Auric, please…." It seemed that whatever world he was in, Edward Elric would always have height issues.
"Fine, but I hope you know you're ruining my reputation for spycraft," was the testy grumble as Auric pushed back his hood and tossed his head, freeing his long ponytail from its confines. The sunlight shone off his hair, turning it to beaten gold as irritated tiger-yellow eyes met Roy's disbelieving stare head-on. "There, happy now?"
