Disclaimer: I do not own Roy Mustang. If I did, I would not in be on here; I would be in a corner raping him. I do not own Maes Hughes. If I did, I would not be here; I would be giggling over his adorable Elysia along with him. I do not own the Furher. If I did, I would be strangling him and shoving obscene things into his eye-socket! Anyways, for the shorter answer, I do not own any part of Full Metal Alchemist. All I can own is Rebecca Jane Allen.

Author's notes: Thank you to MikoHatome for the review. I feel a lot better knowing people are reading and enjoying these drabbles.

Second, I also do manga art. Also as a side note, if anyone would actually like to see a picture of Rebecca you can go to Fire's Past

Chapter 3

Count the Trees

The days and nights ran together. Mountains, fields, and small towns: they passed like morning mists. The midnight was bitter and the noon hours windy. In the train compartment, Rebecca sat her hands clasped in her lap. Her tan coat was hanging from the rack above her. On the red velvet cushions lay her olive alchemy gloves.

"One, two, three…" Her mind counted as the trees sped outside the compartment. As she continued to watch counting now eleven, the door whined when it opened.

"You're quiet again," the deep voice of Maes Hughes stated. "Maybe…" A picture of Gracia interrupted her counting. "Isn't she beautiful? When we get back to Central, we're going to be married. The war's over and life will be more—"

"Major, I know!" She pushed the arm out of her face and turned away from the window. "You've told me exactly nine times since noon yesterday and sixty-five times since I met you." Rebecca scowled.

When he sat down across from her, he pushed his glasses up his sharp nose. "Understood."

Rebecca turned back to the window and continued to count trees. "What will happen once we get to Central?"

"Well, I'll have to turn in a report and speak to the Brigadier General about you."

"What will I have to do?" She counted twenty more trees but they were thinning.

"I'll get you an audience as well as an alchemist to quarter with." Hughes pulled out his wrist knife and flipped it from hand to hand.

Now the alchemist turned to look at Hughes. "An alchemist?"

"Yes, an alchemist to quarter with. Where else will you stay while you study?" Major slipped the knife back on his wrist and leaned back with his head on the wood.

Rebecca turned back to the window with a stony glare.

Small farmhouses then roads crisscrossing from one another had replaced the trees. Gardens peeped through the gates. Little children watched the train go by their playtimes. Behind a collection of hills, Central City was nestled.

When the station pulled into view, Hughes leaned forward. "Rebecca, the world will be different from now on. Your soul purpose will be to please the military. Busy one night, nights of nothing the next, peace and fight."

"I know." Her voice was emotionless as her eyes watched the common men and women walk back and forth on the platform.

The sound of a train whistle exploded, and the door swung open. A young soldier entered. With a sharp snap and salute, he declared, "Message for Major Maes Hughes."

Hughes stood as Rebecca watched. The major nodded and told him to continue.

"Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang sends, 'Good morning and get your ass out here.'" His mouth didn't waver at the cuss word but kept at his rigid position.

Hughes nodded, "At ease," and the soldier followed his command. The major turned back to Rebecca. "Come. There's someone I wish for you to meet."

Rebecca stood up. She picked up the gloves and slipped them into the bottom pocket of her dark cargo pants. Pushing her brown bangs out of her eyes, she grabbed the coat from its hanger.

Author's Note: Gomen-nasai, it's short. I know!