Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. Not making any money of this. Love the idea of Ed and Roy. Please leave me a review if you like the story.

Warning: some mention of shounen-ai in this chapter. Brief and non-graphic but there. If such things offend you, please skip this chapter. And please, no flames. Or I'll sic Auric on you.

For an explanation of the Chapter Title, please see the end of the story.


Chapter 8: Conjunction

The smell of frying bacon and eggs laced with the aroma of strong, fresh coffee penetrated Roy Mustang's consciousness gradually. There was a certain intimacy about the experience of waking up this way, he thought hazily, since it implied that he had allowed someone to spend the night with him, which was, despite his reputation as a ladies' man, a surprisingly rare occurrence. It was the added promise that was implied by the act of waking up together that he was uncomfortable with, not to mention the invasion of his private space. Something had evidently been different this time around. He fuzzily attempted to piece his scattered thoughts together. Now who had he….

"You're awake. Good morning."

And Roy's heart missed a beat as his mind skipped back four years.

He had been nearly ready to turn in, he remembered. The wind had been howling around the eaves, and the thought of his warm bed had been tantalizing him the entire evening as he had forced himself to finish up the teetering stack of paperwork on his desk. Just as he had signed his last report with a relieved flourish and was standing to stretch out the kinks in his back, there had been a furious hammering at his front door. A rush of adrenaline had snapped him out of his stupor and he had moved to answer the summons, pausing only to snap on his gloves. On the assumption that anyone rousing him at this hour had nothing good in mind for him, he had summoned a flame to his finger tips before flinging the door open…to find Edward Elric standing there, locks of hair flying loose behind him in the gale, golden eyes lit with a strange mixture of triumph – and loss. "Fullmetal? What…."

Roy had gotten no further before the young alchemist had stepped over the threshold of his house, kicked the door shut, looked up determinedly – and kissed him straight on. Without hesitation, or fear, or doubt. And, much to his own surprise, he had found himself responding in kind. Coming up for air, he had tried to speak, to say something, anything, to articulate his confusion, but had found himself silenced with a gentle hand over his mouth. "Don't say anything," Ed had whispered. "For once, just be." And he had obeyed. Their coupling had been frenzied, almost animalistic, and yet strangely tender for all that, and when they had lain there in each other's arms, spent, he had thought his heart might burst for all the unaccustomed feelings that this young man – this boy! – had awakened in him, feelings that he'd thought long dead and buried, that he'd never expected to be able to – or to want to feel ever again.

He had woken up the next morning to a bed that felt strangely empty and had followed the smell of frying bacon and eggs laced with the aroma of strong, fresh coffee to the kitchen. Ed had turned from the stove, smiling, and handed him a mug of coffee. "You're awake. Good morning." He had taken the mug in silent awkwardness as their fingers had brushed, feeling oddly uncertain in his own house, as though he were the intruder. The intimate physical knowledge of how those fingers felt against his skin, and of the way that face looked, unguarded and lit by moonlight as it gazed down at him, eyes darkened and lips parted, seemed to have no place in the thin wavering light of morning. Ed had seemed happy to leave Roy to his silence, leaning back against the kitchen counter and studying Roy's face carefully over the rim of this own mug, as though memorizing each feature. Then suddenly, the blonde had sighed, and his usual mask of defiance had dropped back over his features. "Thanks for the hospitality, Colonel. I'll see you later," he had grunted as he drained his mug and turned towards the door. Roy had watched him go, stunned.

"Fullmetal…Ed..." It had been meant as an interrogative, but instead came out sounding like a plea. It had surprised him, and, he suspected, Ed too, from the slight falter in his steps.

The blonde had paused at the threshold, but had not turned around. "Later, Colonel. Oh, and…take care of yourself, Roy."

Later. Take care of yourself. He had had occasion to remember those words later that day when they came to tell him that Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist was missing, presumed dead in some kind of accident. That Edward Elric's little brother had survived and had shed his armour, and was babbling something about his brother dying to save him, and that it wasn't fair, and that they'd had to sedate him because he kept thrashing about screaming for his brother.

Hawkeye had organized a memorial service. He had attended, as CO, and had even choked out a few appropriate phrases about loss and life and its meaning thereof. He was certain Havoc had cried. Then he had gone out with Maes and gotten very, very drunk. He was pretty sure Maes had winkled the entire story out of him then, because his friend was entirely too solicitous for the next week or so, although the unwritten rules of their friendship forbade him from ever bringing up the subject. Roy Mustang was a brilliant man. He knew what he was supposed to do, intellectually, could even hear a certain voice lecture about moving forwards and never back. Understood that what had happened was a certain prodigy's way of saying goodbye.

But he still clung to those words and the promise implicit in them. Later. Take care of yourself.

"Are you all right?"

Roy snapped back to his present as a mug of coffee was shoved under his nose. "Here, this will probably help. I'm pretty lousy myself in the mornings without a caffeine fix." Auric was regarding him with a familiar tawny gaze that held nothing more than a vague general concern for Roy's disoriented state. "Go on. And then you should eat breakfast before it gets cold, nothing worse than rubbery scrambled eggs. Hope you don't mind that I helped myself first, but I want to get an early start and see Alphonse before his exam."

Bowing his head, Roy washed down the pain threatening to rise from the pit of his stomach with a scalding mouthful of coffee.


Alphonse Elric did his best to ignore the fluttery feeling just beneath his ribcage. He'd been practicing alchemist for years, and had even passed the written examinations for State Alchemist at eleven. How hard could the practical examinations be? The famous Flame Alchemist was known to be his sponsor. Piece of cake.

Right.

He groaned, slumping against the wall. This wasn't right. He shouldn't be here. He should be back in his little house in Risembool with his family solving the little problems that popped up in every community, from drought to a broken plough to needing the roof of a barn raised. Ed had always been the strong one, putting himself out there, shielding his little brother from the evils of the world. Alphonse was a firm believer in the fact that some people were born to be heroes. They might not want to be, but they had all the requisite characteristics and only required the right set of circumstances to be awakened to their destiny. One of the most important characteristics being a certain willingness, desire even, to get involved in world affairs. Like General Mustang, say, or even Ed, for all his protests. Al was quite content to live out his life on a much smaller scale, thank you very much.

He wondered if there was precedent for a State Alchemist becoming a hermit.

"Chin up," came an amused drawl. "It won't be that bad. I passed it, didn't I? Not that I remember doing so, of course."

Al looked up gloomily at Auric. The golden-haired man was looking irritatingly cheerful and well rested. "You actually wanted to pass it, and you're still the youngest qualifier on record. I'm not quite as motivated."

"Better than the draft," was the unsympathetic reply. "Come on, show some backbone, you've been through worse. Nearly dying, for instance. What would Ed say?"

"He'd bind me with alchemy to prevent me from joining, then go off and kill General Mustang on the general principle that he would have had something to do with all this," Al pointed out wryly.

"Oh, good point," mused Auric. "Well, I'll put the latter on my list of things to do, if you like. I'm not sure I can oblige on the former yet, I've only just gotten the hang of this alchemy thing.…"

The rest of what he was about to say was cut off as Al seized him by the shoulders, quite forgetting his bout of nerves. "You remember how to do alchemy?"

"Not quite," admitted Auric. "But Mustang…persuaded…me to try activating a simple array. Turns out the principle is quite similar to the energy control involved in Gating. And then I transmuted…."

"You transmuted!" shouted Al, giddily. Auric winced and made a shushing gesture with his hands.

"It's not a big deal, just very basic…."

"It's a start! Oh, this is wonderful! I'm sure you'll be great at it, there are all these books here at Central in the National Library that you can read, and I'll teach you the way you used to teach me, and…" Al continued babbling excitedly as Auric dragged him down the hall. The Gatekeeper sighed, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache that even his morning coffee could not hold at bay. At least he had gotten Al's mind off the practicals.


Maes looked up in amusement as Auric staggered into his office and fell into a chair, eyes firmly shut. He pushed over his newest photo album, only to snatch it back in the nick of time as a sai sank quivering into the wood of the desk barely an inch from his hand. Auric opened an eye and glared balefully. "Don't even start, Colonel."

"Hey, that's a new set of photographs!" sulked Maes. "Wait a minute…how did you do that without looking?"

"Felt it," said Auric briefly, not bothering to elaborate. "So. The General told me I should stop by after seeing Al off to his practicals. The boy's a mess of nerves. Was I ever that green?"

Maes smiled reminiscently. "Oh, yes. Not that you'd ever let on, of course. You were a scrappy one, always spoiling for a fight. I always thought that was because you thought the best defence was a good offence."

Auric shrugged. "Still do. Did you have something to tell me?"

Maes nodded. "Hang on." He stepped to the door and beckoned someone in. Auric looked up to see a looming pink mountain of a man with a curl right in the middle of his forehead. "Auric, this is Major Alex Louis Armstrong, also known as the Strong-arm Alchemist."

"Pleased to meet you," said Auric automatically as he took stock of the man, who stared back solemnly. Auric's eyes narrowed. Wait a minute, was Armstrong's moustache …quivering? And were those tears in his eyes? And…his thoughts were slammed out of his head as the big man lunged forward and wrapped his beefy arms around Auric in a bear hug, freeing one hand to rumple his hair vigorously as he sniffled. "Edward-kun…oh…I can't believe you've come back…."

"Air…can't breathe…" wheezed Auric. The big man merely sobbed harder. Oh well, no help for it – and he teleported himself to the other side of Maes's desk, causing Armstrong to stumble forward in surprise as his arms suddenly closed on empty air. Maes's eyebrows crawled into his hairline.

"That's…very impressive," he said by way of understatement. "Um. Pull yourself together, Major. Pride of the Armstrongs and all that. There'll be time for waterworks and catching up later. Would you please give Auric a précis of what we've discovered thus far on the identity of General Mustang's would-be assassins?"

Armstrong gulped once more, casting a mournful look at Auric, and sat down, although his back stiffened noticeably at the Colonel's invocation of his family history. "Yes sir."


"You look good in uniform," complimented Riza Hawkeye, fussing over the newly qualified State Alchemist Alphonse Elric, a.k.a. The Earth Moving Alchemist. "Sir."

Al winced. "Please, could you not do that? It doesn't seem right somehow. You've been like a big sister to me all these years. And you never called Ed, 'Sir'."

Riza's mouth twitched. "He was still a child. You're all grown up now, an adult. And now that you've qualified, you do outrank me." Al hunched over even further, a habit from his days as a towering suit of armour.

"I still don't like it," he sighed.


"I still don't like it," said Auric flatly. "Why do I have to be Mustang's apprentice? It's hardly a low-profile position, and it keeps me away from Al. Not to mention that the man can occasionally be rather annoying."

Maes took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know perfectly well why, Auric, so stop being difficult. It would be very unlikely for Al to take on an apprentice, being that he's only just qualified as a State Alchemist. General Mustang is senior enough, powerful enough, and known to have a soft spot for Alphonse Elric. The story that he would agree to take on a cousin of the Elrics as an apprentice is not implausible. It also explains your resemblance to Al sufficiently. And given that you'll be family, it will not seem unrealistic that you spend a great deal of time with Al, or that you share quarters with him." His eyes twinkled. "Now, the interesting part will be making that sound like the cover story that it is."

Armstrong blinked. "What?"

Auric rolled his eyes. "The people we're worried about will naturally suspect there's something more to the story, Major," he lectured in a pedantic tone of voice. "So they'll dig. And what they'll come up with is that I'm really an operative for MI, working for the Colonel and posing as Mustang's apprentice. That'll satisfy their little conspiracy theories sufficiently and they won't dig any further. My asking questions will then be attributed to my 'real' job for MI, and they'll be blinded by their own sense of superiority at having 'found me out'. In the meantime, they'll assume that my dabbling in alchemy is strictly to keep up the pretence of my cover story and that I have minimal ability at best, when the truth is that I will be working to regain the knowledge I had. Understand?"

"We can't all be prodigies at cloak-and-dagger schemes, Auric," Mustang rebuked tartly from the door.

Auric's head snapped up and he glared at the General, but had the grace to look chagrined. "I never said I was one," he muttered. "I'm sorry, Major…I just…it's a lot to have to deal with, that's all. And I've been antsy all day." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I need a workout."

"I often go to the gym to train," offered Armstrong, placid and unruffled. "You're welcome to join me. I would not mind having a sparring partner."

"I'd like that," smiled Auric in surprise. "Thank you."

Mustang smirked. "Excellent. I couldn't possibly take on an apprentice incapable of defending himself in a duel. You can't train the mind to its potential without training the body."

Auric seethed, but refused to take the bait. "Just don't expect me to call you Master," he finally ground out. "That's reserved for your dogs of war."

"You agreed to be the military's lapdog once…for a price."

A charged silence fell, Maes and Armstrong holding their breaths as the air between Auric and Mustang crackled with unseen electricity. Finally Auric said in a strange, inflectionless voice, "Equivalent Exchange."

Mustang nodded. "Conservation of Energy. You help me to change all this. Lend me your skills, your strength and your powers to end this war…to change this world."

"You swear to me you'll keep Al safe and whole. Swear that he'll see Winry and Risembool again after this war is over. And I'll do…whatever it takes."

A nod. "I swear it. On the memory of one whom I loved. Whom I still love." Later. Take care of yourself.

Auric frowned at the odd note in the man's voice and filed it away for future reference, though he could hear the sincerity in Mustang's voice. "Then our contract is negotiated, witnessed and sealed," he said in the formal words used by all Gatekeepers, bowing slightly. "I am in your service until our contract shall be concluded, or you release me, or my death should dissolve the contract." He straightened, adding wryly, "I'm surprised the Guild didn't include a clause about amnesia being a valid reason for contract termination. Sensitive topic, I guess."

"Auric," Maes questioned softly, "only your death dissolves the contract?"

The Gatekeeper nodded. "It's a matter of honour. Even if our client dies through no fault of ours, we are morally bound to honour the contract. You can't move forward until you've closed the past behind you." A haunted expression crossed the General's face, and Auric frowned again as he noticed Maes shoot the man a worried look. Guess everyone's got a past, he thought, shifting uncomfortably.

Everyone jumped as Armstrong burst into tears. "This is all so noble and self-sacrificing! It reminds me of the Armstrong family tradition of…."

Auric glanced over at Mustang. "So, venerable Flame Alchemist…know any alchemic solutions for shutting someone up?"


Conjunction is the fourth operation in alchemical transformation. It is the coming together of the opposing archetypal forces of the Sun and Moon or the King and Queen.

Earth is one of the Four Elements of alchemy. Earth in the alchemical sense carries the archetypal properties of manifestation, birth, and material creation. It is associated with the operation of Conjunction and represented by the green ore of copper.