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

Author's Note:

In re: details of interrogations and assassinations. Patience is a virtue. That's all I'm gonna say. Thanks to all the faithful reviewers, glad you're still with me, and a warm hello and welcome to the newbies, glad you could make it!

Chapter 29: Almost Like Old Times

The Fuhrer-elect looked up, puzzled. He could have sworn he'd heard a knock at his door, but despite the invitation to enter, no one had. He must be hearing things; old buildings often had odd creaks and knocks in the evening as beams and boards heated by day began to cool and settle back into their joists. Still…just to be safe, he slid his gloves on, enjoying the feeling of the rough fabric against his skin, luxuriating in being able to flex his hands without pain. The doctors had finally pronounced him healed sufficiently to snap his fingers, and he had annoyed Hawkeye immeasurably this afternoon by letting off sparks left and right dangerously close to various very-important-secret-and-confidential documents. He didn't even mind the new bullet hole in the wall just behind and to the left of where his head would be when he was seated, and he smiled at the small blemish before turning back to his paperwork, casting a dubious eye at the door one more time. And then a movement in his peripheral vision made him jerk his head around and he snapped instinctively in words and deed, "Who's there?"

There was a muffled growl, and then Edward Elric was suddenly standing before his desk in the middle of his carpet, looking extraordinarily irritated, wisps of hair falling about his face from the speed of his teleport away from the burst of flame Roy had conjured up. "Watch it, bastard, you could have hurt Winnie! Did you not hear me? I asked if you would mind opening the door, my hands are full!" And indeed they were, much to Roy's bemusement, as Winnie eyed him dubiously and blew a spit-bubble, wriggling enthusiastically in her uncle's arms.

"Ah. Fullmetal. I see all of my subordinates appear to be incapable of knocking before entering. And I knew there were perks to being Fuhrer – late nights, bad coffee, having to open doors for people…." Roy's dark eyes gleamed sardonically, but at least he wasn't acting…well…weird, Ed thought in some relief, if anything, this was just like old times when Ed would return from a mission and stumble in reluctantly to deliver his report. It was so much easier – and so much more interesting -sparring with Roy than it was to make polite remarks to a bunch of tittering women. Not that he'd ever actually admit as much to the man – someone had to keep his ego in check.

"You're not Fuhrer yet, and I did knock, asshole! But I figured teleporting into the office was better than me breaking the door down. I could give it a kick if you like, for old times sake." Ed's eyes travelled slowly from Roy's gloved hands to the bullet hole in the wall, and a long-suffering look flitted across his face. "Good to see you're back to your old form. Hawkeye must be pissed. Bastard," he added, almost as an afterthought. No sense in completely breaking with tradition, after all. "Where is everyone, anyway?"

"Hawkeye left to meet her parents at the train station, and Havoc offered to drive her. They're coming in from their home in West City for the inauguration. Maes was expected home for dinner, as was Armstrong, and I ordered Fury to leave the office early for once – he's been running himself ragged sorting out the logistics around the various diplomatic delegations, lodging, protocol and so on." Ed noted that Roy had, as usual, exempted himself from the blanket order – because Ed had no doubt whatsoever that it had been an order that had pried Hawkeye loose – to leave the office early and get some rest before the next day's ceremonies. What did the man think he was, a martyr? Winnie chose that moment to let out another squeal, and Roy's brows rose into his bangs. "My office is not a crib, Fullmetal."

"Stuff it, bastard. This is Al and Winry's daughter, Winnie. I'm babysitting for them tonight, and she's overexcited and needs to be calmed down and fed, so I took her to the most boring place I could think of." And Ed jogged the child up and down in the crook of his arm, eyes glinting defiantly as Winnie cooed happily.

Roy's face didn't change at all, and yet he somehow managed to convey the distinct sense that he questioned the prudence of Al's decision as he drawled in a suspiciously neutral tone of voice, "They left a baby. With you."

"What?" Ed asked defensively and with some exasperation. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of her - I took care of Al when we were little, didn't I?" Roy continued to eye him carefully, and Ed deflated slightly. "Well, I helped mama, kind of. And Gatekeepers like children – they're like the hope and promise of a new beginning. I once had to stay a few months with a family that had three young kids."

The Flame Alchemist's expression softened as he took in the sight of the famous Fullmetal Alchemist carefully dabbing the drool from his niece's cheeks and chin. Winnie looked up, gurgling, and focused briefly on the tall man smiling at her from behind the desk. Perhaps it was the unusual colour of his dark hair and eyes gleaming blue-black in the lamplight that attracted her attention, so different from the flaxen hair that prevailed in her usual surroundings, because she suddenly grinned, showing two perfect little miniature teeth, and held out her arms to Roy to be carried. "Hey!" Ed protested as her weight shifted suddenly. "Not you too, sweetie, he's really not the sort of guy you should be falling for, believe me. In more ways than one. We'll find you a nice one like your daddy, not this smirking, manipulative, self-important…."

"Face it, Fullmetal, the pretty ones all love me," Roy smirked on cue, and Ed rolled his eyes. Much to the younger man's surprise, the Flame Alchemist didn't baulk, instead reaching for the little girl after carefully removing his gloves so the rough fabric wouldn't scratch her delicate skin. "May I?"

Ed sighed. "Fine, just don't come whining to me when she drools on your uniform, oh great one." He came around the desk and handed her carefully to the Fuhrer-elect, noting with some surprise the ease with which Roy took the little girl and arranged her in his arms. Winnie gurgled happily as Roy chucked her under the chin gently. "Practice with Alicia?"

Roy looked up smiling, a small but genuine smile that lit his face and made him look years younger. "Some…but mostly from helping out with my younger brother as I was growing up." Ed cocked his head to one side and eyed Roy. This was the first time the man had ever mentioned his family.

"You have a younger brother?"

And just like that, the animation was gone again. "Had." A bland mask slid over his features, and Ed had to restrain himself from yelling at the man for doing that, for always putting up walls that didn't need to be there in order to appear strong. It might be necessary with everyone else, but not with Ed. Or it shouldn't be.

"I'm sorry." Trite words coming from anyone else, but not from Ed. And he could see that Roy knew he understood more than anyone had a right to.

The Flame Alchemist nodded, suddenly feeling oddly naked under that burning tawny gaze that seemed to glow brighter than the lamps in the room, and he had to fight the urge to either flee the room or jump Ed and ravage him senseless, both wholly inappropriate thoughts for the future Fuhrer. And he'd promised himself that anything between them would be Ed's choice, because he deserved that right and not to be held to a promise made in the excesses of callow youth. And anyway…from a purely practical standpoint, Winnie's weight on his lap was trapping him in his seat. "So. You came to deliver your report, I assume?"

"Yeah," and Ed flopped tiredly onto one of the small settees in the office, tossing a sheaf of papers onto the coffee table and propping his mud-spattered boots up next to them. Roy stood, still carrying Winnie, and came over to sit opposite. Ed was carelessly sprawled across the small sofa in what would have been an awkward position for anyone else. Somehow though, with his head tipped back and eyes closed, the line of his throat laid bare in the warm glow of the lamps on the end tables, he looked rather like a fallen angel, and Roy caught himself staring in wonder. He tore his eyes away and cleared his throat self-consciously.

"I hear you had a few…problems at the station."

Ed pulled a pillow over his face and groaned. "How the hell do you always know these things? And why do I bother writing reports if you already know what I've been doing?" A stain of embarrassment was creeping up his neck, turning the tips of his ears pink. "I hate reporters."

The Fuhrer-elect shrugged. "They can be useful. Besides, you should get used to it – you're a hero and national celebrity now. Welcome to the club."

"Wasn't there some wise man who said, 'I wouldn't join any club that would have me?' " Ed asked dryly from behind the pillow. "Not to mention, look at the membership rolls – you're in it. Enough said."

"Think of it more as a draft," Roy advised, choosing to pointedly ignore the slight with dignity. "Like it or not, your days of relative privacy are over, unless you've decided to become a hermit. And if so, I must insist on you waiting until after the inauguration – Maes will weep if anything goes wrong with his 'party plans', as he terms them, and I do believe you figure prominently in them. He's already promised the pleasure of your company at tomorrow's ball to the various diplomatic delegations. For some reason, the ambassador from Xing seems particularly eager to meet you – I hear he has an unwed sister."

Ed yanked the pillow off his face and glared at Roy, who was fighting to stay completely expressionless, although a twitch at one corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. "Is it for Maes's sake or for yours, bastard? Need a little boost in your star power?"

"While I vehemently deny that last suggestion…would it be so bad for me to want you there?" Roy's voice had gentled towards the end, and he suddenly seemed very busy fussing over Winnie, who had managed to kick one of her little shoes off and was now engaged in trying to stand up in Roy's lap. Ed sat up slowly, stunned at the matter-of-fact sincerity of the admission.

"Is that an order?"

Roy looked up, smiling lightly, although the look in his eyes was anything but. "A…request. A choice."

Ed let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He took a moment to compose himself, willing his voice not to tremble as he forced out between suddenly stiff lips, "Someone has to be there to keep you from getting too swollen-headed."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes." It was almost a choked laugh, and Ed wondered how something so significant could be boiled down to one little word.

"Good." And just like that, the strained tension in the air seemed to dissipate. Ed found himself grinning idiotically, thought about suppressing it, and decided it didn't really matter, as the corners of Roy's eyes crinkled in affection. Winnie chose that moment to hiccup again, and then her lower lip began to quiver.

"Damn, I forgot," Ed mumbled, diving for the satchel. "She needs to be fed. Al told me there was some kind of baby food in here."

Roy eyed the battered bag sceptically as he distracted a teary Winnie with his pocket watch. "Have you had dinner yourself?"

"I've been kind of busy, in case you hadn't noticed," was the terse response as Ed retrieved a bottle and warmed it up with a brief touching of palms. Watching Ed – or Al, for that matter – performing alchemy, no matter how small the task, was always an aesthetic pleasure that could be likened to watching an athlete at his sport: efficient, understated, and with the grace that came from absolute confidence, the sort that stemmed from becoming so good at something that it was second-nature, like breathing, or running, or laughing. The young man tested a couple of drops on his wrist and nodded, satisfied. "See, I have this really annoying CO, he sort of insists on reports being turned in ASAP…" he trailed off, turning to look at Roy. "Wait, was that a dinner invitation?"

"It was," said Roy dryly. "But since you appear to be wholly dedicated to your work…."

"Could you be any more cryptic?" Ed grumbled, although he ducked his head to hide a smile as a pleased rosy flush that Roy found quite fetching rose in his cheeks. "Fine - you can debrief me just as easily over the dinner table as you can across your desk. And you're paying." He reached for Winnie, who held her arms out obligingly as she eyed the bottle under her uncle's arm with immense satisfaction.

"Really," Roy murmured with interest, the suppressed amusement beneath the carefully neutral velvet of his voice making the young man glance up sharply. "I had always thought you favoured boxers, Edward."

The Flame Alchemist braced himself for the inevitable outburst, but much to his surprise, nothing happened. Instead the young man settled Winnie in the crook of his arm in dignified silence, handing the eager child the bottle and making sure she was comfortable. Still keeping his face completely expressionless, he picked up the satchel and turned towards the door, casting a glance over his shoulder to make sure Roy had retrieved the increasingly crumpled report from the coffee table. Roy obligingly opened the door for him and ushered him through with elaborate courtesy, and Ed stalked past him exuding a stony, self-righteous hauteur as he cuddled his niece protectively and refused to make eye contact. It wasn't until Roy had turned to lock his office door behind him that he heard Ed's distinctively throaty baritone purr something that would keep him watching a very specific part of Ed's anatomy very closely all the way to the restaurant as he tried to figure out if he was being toyed with…or if it was truth.

"And here I thought you had it all figured out, Roy – you can't really fit anything under these pants, you know."

Ed tossed his golden head and stalked off down the corridor, Gatekeeper senses telling him Roy was trailing along behind in stunned silence. He smirked smugly to himself as he tucked Winnie's bib more securely under her chin. Fullmetal – 1, Flame – 0.


"This is nice," Winry smiled, as she propped her chin on her folded hands and looked playfully across and up through her lashes at her husband's tall figure across the white linen tablecloth. "It's hard to believe there was ever a war, isn't it?" Strains of music floated through the air from the string quartet in the corner, not loud enough to mask the pleasant hum of low conversations and laughter in the packed restaurant as couples, families and friends celebrated the return of peace and a new leader. There was an air of suppressed excitement in the air, and the Green Lion being the sort of restaurant it was, Winry was pretty sure the vast majority of patrons seated about her were all attending the inauguration ball the next night. As was she! For all that she preferred overalls to dresses and was happiest when in grease up to her elbows, was no longer a starry-eyed child and was a mother to boot, there was still enough of the girl in her for the young woman to feel butterflies of excitement in her stomach when she contemplated the undeniable fact that she, Winry Rockbell Elric, was going to the ball with her very own prince, and she sighed in deep contentment.

Al looked up from where he had been busily pleating the edge of the tablecloth in his lap. He had already rearranged the sugar cubes in the sugar bowl by colour and knocked over the little silver vase in the middle of the table three times. "Sure. Nice. No war. Yes." He was still finding it difficult to articulate to Winry what the war had been like, the devastation, the death and destruction…the line he had nearly crossed, and to be frank, the bizarre juxtaposition of this utterly civilized setting against his memories of mud-covered tents and blood-covered men with fear in their voices was giving him a headache. He suddenly understood why Ed and Roy had been so desperate to keep him on the other side of that line that they had crossed long ago…he was pretty certain that he would be finding it impossible to sit here listening to his wife tell him brightly about the spring planting and the latest local gossip in their small town otherwise. As it was, he felt as though he was moving through a distorted dream world, like watching reality reflected in a shimmering, stretchy soap bubble that was beautiful and sunlit and that you knew could burst and vanish at any time.

Havoc, of all people, had told him about this feeling once, trying to explain to the very young Major Elric why his enlisted men were coming to him trustingly, their commanding officer, for advice on how to deal with the world they had returned to. The lanky Captain could be surprisingly loquacious when the mood struck him. "It's like…it's like being a ghost, you know?" Havoc had said, toying with a cigarette butt in his long, nervous fingers. "Moving through a world without being a part of it, a world that you thought you wanted, that you fought to save, but a world where people don't understand what you've been through because they can't, because no one can unless they've actually been there. In time, for most people, it passes…you move on, make yourself a part of normal life again. For some of 'em though, it never does, and without people who understand, it's…it's hard."

"Did it pass for you?" Al had asked. "Does anything help?"

"Some. I'm a country-boy, I take things easy. Never wanted more than to serve my country, find a nice girl and have a family of my own. And now I've got two of those, and hopefully the third will come with time. But every now and then, I remember stuff. And I didn't even see the worst of it." Havoc ground his cigarette butt underfoot. "People like the General and the boss, they've seen and done more than I can even begin to imagine. I don't know how they bear up under it and keep on going. But they do, and that's why we follow them. Respect them. Love them."

"They have each other. And us."

"That they do," Havoc had agreed easily. "Makes it easier for them, in a lot of ways, because they understand each other like no one else can. Why else do you think Roy tomcatted around but never fell in love with any of 'em? With someone who doesn't understand - a civilian girlfriend, a wife, that sort of thing - it's often simpler to just let her be, especially if you care about her. They'll yammer on about wanting to know what happened, but they don't, really. And isn't that innocence what we fight to preserve?"

Al had nodded, thanked the man for his insight, and gone away to think about this new development. He hadn't really felt it then, though he had provided a sympathetic ear and counsel to more than a few distraught enlisteds and a couple of young Lieutenants, but now, sitting there at the table surrounded by chattering civilians who had likely as not seen very little of the war's fallout, he shook his head at his naiveté. Having Ed with him had shielded him from having to properly reengage with the real world and a normal lifestyle, as he had been able to simply fall back into the easy rhythm and understanding that was their bond, and the same had likely been true for Ed, although Al still had difficultly forgetting the desolate, lost look in his brother's eyes the night he had explained the meaning of his scar. Winry, on the other hand, was a part of the real world, and as such a jarring trigger for this strange feeling of unreality. Still, he was grateful to have her as his guide back to a life of peace. His brow creased as he wondered if his brother would be able to adapt to this brave new world he had helped to shape. But Ed had Roy. Surely together, they would be all right?

Winry frowned at the note of distraction in her husband's voice. Al had been suitably attentive at the beginning of dinner, cutting a dashing figure in his uniform with its tell-tale silver watch chain winking against his belt, and the admiring glances shot their way by other female diners had been simultaneously a source of irritation and intense pride for her. As the evening had worn on, however, Al had become increasingly distant, offering up monosyllabic replies to her chatty questions. This was not how a husband who had been separated from his wife for months was supposed to be acting, damn it! "Al," and the sharp tone in her voice made him look up quickly, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing. You were saying that everything seems the same again, right?" Al plastered an earnest look of attention on his face. He'd always been better at it than Ed. Unfortunately, he was trying it on the one of the few people who could read the Elric brothers like an open book. His wife snorted.

"Al…."

There were disadvantages to marrying someone this observant. "Everything's fine, Winry. Are you done? Shall I get the cheque?" A small hand reached across the table to tug on his arm imperiously as he raised his arm to summon the waiter.

"We're not going anywhere until you talk to me and explain why your mind's been anywhere but here for the last half-hour, Alphonse Elric."

Al stared across the table at his wife. Winry was clearly annoyed with him, the happy glow that had lit her face earlier fading as her cerulean eyes flashed warningly at him, and he felt a pang of guilt for running her evening. She was right; he hadn't been thinking about her, or the lovely dinner, or anything but…"I'm sorry, Winry. I was just worrying about Brother."

"As well you should be," Winry muttered, folding her arms and sitting back mutinously. "I still can't believe the nerve of that perverted…."

"Not like that, Winry," Al groaned, blushing slightly. "Besides…the General and Brother…they work, somehow. I don't know how to explain it. You just have to see them together…" and his mind flashed back to that awful, awful day when Ed had been taken by the Gate again. The look on Roy's face was something Al's mind shied away from remembering in too much detail, which was probably a good thing. And then when Ed had returned to them…Al closed his eyes, seeing the two figures silhouetted against the back of his eyelids, so close they seemed almost like one person, flame and ash and dirt whipping around them as they ignored everything but the feel of having the other actually there, alive, safe….He shook himself free of the memory and looked up to meet his wife's puzzled gaze. "It's not that. They love each other – they need each other – it'll be all right. You'll see."

Winry let that pass, although the curl of her lip said she wasn't entirely convinced. "Then what is it?"

Al shrugged. "I just…it's weird not being with him, that's all. We've always been together."

"The three of us," Winry nodded, a reminiscent smile playing about her lips. "Ever since we were little. Playing on the hill. Getting into trouble for picking a neighbour's apples without permission…" she trailed off again as Al looked uncomfortable. Her husband was the most truthful soul she knew, and even the slightest prevarication occasioned great discomfort – it was one of the things she loved most about him. In that sense, he was far more predictable than Ed, who was far better at making ends justify means. He'd had to be, given his role as the older brother, she supposed. "What?"

"I meant him and me, Winry." Al bit his lip, groping for a way to express himself. "You know. Like when we were searching for the Philosopher's Stone. And even recently. Almost like old times. Us against the world."

"Almost like old times," she echoed hollowly, feeling herself go numb as she struggled to understand. "When you'd leave me behind and go off on your missions, just the two of you, on some great adventure that you'd never bother to explain or tell me about." She could hear the venom in her voice, and it frightened her.

"Winry, please." Al struggled to keep the tone of his voice reasonable. "You know why we couldn't…."

"Oh, I know why you couldn't – but you wouldn't, either!" she hissed, trying to keep from drawing attention to herself, fighting back the tears burning her eyes. "And you're right, this is just like old times – the two of you dropping everything and everyone else for each other…me, Granny…what about Winnie, will you ignore her for Ed too?" She stared down into her lap, her fingers twisting themselves into knots along with her napkin as she berated herself for overreacting, but she was powerless against the irrational rush of fear that paralyzed her, the dark secret she never told anyone about, the fear of being left again the way her parents had left her. She knew they hadn't meant to, knew they had been doing what they believed to be their solemn duty as doctors when they had left her with Granny Pinako and gone to war, but that didn't change the fact that they had never come back. Ed and Al had sworn they'd be there for her then, but that had been before their mother had died and they had meddled with forces beyond her understanding and had been forced to leave her too. The difference was that Al had come back to her, and had sworn never to leave her alone again, and had sealed that promise with a child. She was almost ashamed to admit that while she had missed Ed terribly, a small, selfish part of her had been glad not to have to compete with him for Al's attention anymore. But now he was back, and the little girl inside her trembled at the thought that the bond between the brothers would once again draw Al to Ed's side, forgetting his promise to stay with her.

"Hey," her husband said softly, getting up and coming around to kneel beside her chair, ignoring the surprised expressions of the other customers in the restaurant. "Winry. Look at me." A gentle hand closed over her knotted fists, stilling their nervous movement. "It's not like that. I love you and Winnie, you know that. I'd never leave you unless it was important, and I'll always come back. But you can't expect me to stop worrying about Ed just because I have you in my life now. It's a different sort of love there – we only had each other after we lost mama, and we've always looked out for each other. You and I only have this because he sacrificed himself for me four years ago, remember? I owe him so much…he gave me the chance to have you and Winnie. So don't make me choose between the two of you. Please."

Winry looked down, unable to meet Al's pellucid grey gaze, feeling like the worst kind of person there was at that moment. She took a shuddering deep breath, feeling the warmth of Al's hands around hers, callused strong hands that knew their own strength and held hers as lightly and carefully as if she were made of spun glass. "I just…I know. I know, Al. And you know I love Ed too. Just…please…promise me you'll remember that you're a father now. We're no longer the children we were…you have other responsibilities too, not just watching over Ed. Winnie needs you here…I need you here." And she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead, resting her cheek briefly against his sandy hair in a gesture of apology and affection before pulling away to regard him with serious eyes. "Promise."

Al smiled, that serene expression that always made him look eerily wise beyond his years. "I promise, Winry. Besides," and a hint of mischief crept into his eyes as his smile widened a fraction, "I have the feeling that I'm not the companion Brother would choose to walk the next stage of his path in life with. He prefers brunettes, you see."

The patrons of the Green Lion were startled by a sudden outburst of hysterical giggles coming from a certain table, but no one dared to complain about it to the management. After all, the tall, broad-shouldered State Alchemist looked a formidable force in his uniform, even if he was currently sprawled against a table-leg gasping for air as his face turned purple from laughing. And the blue-eyed blonde woman lolling back in her chair appeared to have a wrench stuck in her garter.