A/N: It's a long one! I didn't mean for it to be, but once I started writing it, it kind of shot out of my fingers and on to the page. I love when that happens. By the way, because I am still playing around with my account, I set up a poll on my profile page, mostly because the poll button was one I hadn't pushed yet :) The question is; "What is your favorite Daily?". If you're so inclined, feel free to wander over and cast your vote.

Thanks again to my amazing reviewers/readers! You guys are the absolute bomb...much love to all of you! I appreciate everything you guys have given me, and especially all the cookies and cyber hugs I've recieved via review.

I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, or any of its characters.

Solidarity

It was rare for Roy Mustang to be sent on assignments. He was a Colonel, after all, and he'd made sure to make as many higher up friends as he could early on. Though they knew it was still far-fetched at this point, the men in charge of handing out assignments saw both Roy's charisma and the secret determination that drove him, and thought twice about ordering around a man that just might make it Furher one day.

But not everyone was impressed by Roy's apparent obedience to the state. For every higher up that Roy impressed with his unwavering determination, there were two that found his ambitions threatening. More than one superior officer looked into Roy's face, and saw the absolute purpose in those unreadable eyes. They recognized, right away, that there was a fire inside the Flame Alchemist that had nothing to do with what he produced from his fingertips. This was no bright spark that led to a momentary flash of flame and power. No, what really burned inside the Colonel was a small, steady bonfire of ambition. Its burn was constant; not even water could suffocate its flames.

And since Roy wasn't the only goal-oriented soldier inside the military, that fire rattled the hell out of more than one commanding officer.

One man in particular, a General by the name of Yu, made batting down Roy's rising star a personal mission. The Colonel and his men were stubbornly silent on the subject, but it was whispered around the base that there was bad blood between the two that could be traced all the way back to the Ishbalan war. No one really knew for sure, but every time General Yu visited Eastern Headquarters, he did so with ready insults on his tongue, and a mission from the Furher clasped between his thick fingers.

Sometimes Roy was still capable of side-stepping the General's assignments. His team, in a show of loyalty that always brought a small and secret smile to Roy's face, would volunteer themselves in the Colonel's stead whenever they could. But the General had caught on to that technique fairly quickly, and had started delivering missions that only an alchemist could undertake. Everyone knew that the missions which fell to the alchemists were almost always dangerous by their very nature. And General Yu always went out of his way to hunt down the most grisly, appalling, unwanted jobs, and saddle them on Mustang's shoulders.

Mustang's men would never, ever forget the look on the Colonel's face after he had returned from tallying the population of a nearby Ishabalan settlement. Apparently, the General had made sure that survivors from the cities Roy was stationed in during the war were moved to that particular camp. The Colonel wandered around the office like a dead man for days afterward, and it took weeks for the shadows to leave his eyes.

And now the General was back, stomping around Headquarters like he owned the place, and reclining in the Colonel's office like a little Furher. He'd arrived the day before, all but radiating smug superiority as he handed Mustang his latest mission. Something involving the inspection of an underground chimera fighting ring; the Eastern aristocrat, having too much time and far too much money on their hands, apparently got a kick out of watching two half-animals rip each other to shreds. After reading the assignment summary once, Mustang had forbidden his men from accompanying him. Only Hawkeye went, and that was because she simply rolled right over Roy's refusals. She'd nodded right along with his orders, her expression solemn and silent, and then once he'd stopped speaking, she'd pulled her gun, cocked it gently, and said two words:

"I'm going."

Hawkeye respected the chain of command as much as anyone, and probably more than the average officer. But when it came to the Colonel, an order from the Furher himself couldn't stop her from protecting him.

And, being the smart man that he was, Roy had learned almost immediately to stop arguing the second that look filled her sherry eyes.

Neither of them would go into great detail on what they'd found when they showed up at the office the next morning. But the Colonel had fresh claw marks, raw and open, decorating the side of his neck, and the way he sank into his beloved chair suggested that his ribs were either broken or badly bruised.

And sure enough, about an hour into the work day, General Yu stopped by the Colonel's office once again. He always enjoyed handing Mustang his latest mission, but the real source of his sadistic glee came from the gloating period afterwards. Watching Roy treat him with utter civility and subservience while the truth of his hatred filled his eyes like poison gave the General an almost physical thrill. Especially today, when the Colonel was covered in wounds from his assignment the night before, and the whip of his tightly leashed temper was actually starting to show under his scrupulously polite words.

Roy's men couldn't actually flank him; that could be seen as a challenge to Yu's authority. But they all magically found things to do inside the Colonel's office whenever the General came to visit. So while Hawkeye may have been the only one actually standing at Mustang's side, they still managed to demonstrate their loyalty in more subtle ways.

Roy never doubted that his men were there, even though the bow he'd folded himself in to prevented him from actually seeing them. He caught the sound of Fuery studiously tapping away at some radio inside his office, he could hear Havoc and Breda murmuring to each other as they sorted through Mustang's files, and he could see the tips of Falman's shoes stroll past him as he carried a fresh stack of paperwork to the Colonel's desk. And even though it would never show on his impassive face, the gratitude was there, blooming in Roy's chest.

He kept his dark eyes politely fixed on the General's face, giving every outward appearance of listening intently to the man's rambles. In reality, he was concentrating on the rather remarkable pain in his side, and struggling not to let his discomfort show. His ribs were indeed broken, and the longer he stayed bent in this ridiculous bow, the more they ached. He gave a tiny twitch of discomfort, and the sudden gleam in the General's eyes tipped him off.

Bastard. He could see that Roy was hurt, and he was dragging his speech out on purpose, because he knew that Roy wouldn't rise until he was done.

"I'm glad to see that your mission was so successful, Mustang," he all but purred. "It comforts the Furher greatly to know that he has such a loyal lapdog protecting the East."

Mustang gritted his teeth for a moment, so hard he thought they might shatter. When he spoke, however, his voice was nothing less than smooth.

"It is always my pleasure to serve the Furher."

General Yu's smirk widened into a mean smile, and Roy felt his stomach sink automatically to his knees. Whatever that smile meant, it wasn't anything good.

"The Furher appreciates your dedication, Mustang," the General said. "And because he knows of your great loyalty and your willingness to help out whenever you can, I persuaded King Bradley to send along two missions this time." Yu snatched a folder from one of his cronies and gave it a meaningful tap. "I thought you'd appreciate the opportunity to further demonstrate your faithfulness to the state."

Roy's stomach slid past his knees, and dropped all the way to his toes. He eyed the folder in the General's hand with a trepidation that never showed on his face. Yu had known how badly his first mission would rough Mustang up, and it was obvious now that he was hoping a second mission (most likely ten times as dangerous as the first) might finish the job.

Still, Mustang gave the General a cool smile and inclined his head.

"Of course. Whatever the Furher needs."

At that moment, the door to Mustang's office swung open, startling the majority of the occupants. Ninety-nine percent of the people who were comfortable enough to simply stroll into the Colonel's office like that were already inside it. Which meant that there was really only one option as to who was entering the room.

"Boss," Havoc greeted, his voice blank with surprise. "When did you get back?"

Ed Elric, still rumpled and weary-faced from travel, shrugged.

"Just now," he said. "Al's taking our stuff back to the dormitories."

General Yu pivoted on the spot, leaving Mustang bowing at his back.

"You wouldn't be Edward Elric, would you?" he asked. "The Fullmetal Alchemist?"

The change in the General's voice was painfully apparent. He wasn't the first superior officer who was all for treating the famed Fullmetal Alchemist with kindness if it meant potentially luring the prodigy away from Roy and under his own wing.

"Yeah, that's me."

Across the room, Mustang took a moment to shut his eyes. Thus far, he'd managed to keep Ed away from General Yu. Mustang knew that the boy's really horrible political and diplomatic skills, not to mention his obvious hatred of Roy himself, would only provide the General with more weapons for the 'Take Out Flame' arsenal.

But he supposed that it couldn't be avoided forever. And he was really too tired, and too damn sore, to try and hustle Ed out of the room before he opened his big mouth. So he kept his eyes closed and waited for the inevitable.

"I've been wanting to meet you for some time now," General Yu continued to gush. "You've garnered quite the reputation, you know. The famous Fullmetal Alchemist, child prodigy and hero of the people. I'd love to treat you to dinner down in the Mess, and hear some of your stories."

I bet you would, Roy thought to himself.

"Thanks," Ed said, and Roy's eyes popped open at the almost…civil intonation of the boy's voice. "But I caught some of what you were saying when I was standing outside."

And then Ed was moving, past the General, and Roy had to physically fight back his jaw from dropping as the boy stopped in front of him, snapping his back and shoulders into a straight and respectful line. Roy brought himself carefully, ever mindful of his aching ribs, out of his respectful bow.

"I know I just got back and all, but you know how antsy I get when I don't have anything to do," Ed said, and his voice was still polite enough to make Mustang blink. "And I heard the General say that he has another mission for you."

Roy's brain, always so quick, went completely blank and sluggish as he tried to comprehend what Ed was saying. Was Fullmetal volunteering to sacrifice some of his precious down time, time he dedicated to research, to take over a mission specifically designed for Mustang?

"So I guess I wouldn't mind taking it in your place," Ed continued. "I mean, if that's all right with you and all…," Ed's face twisted for a moment, and then he rolled his eyes in resignation. "…Sir."

If General Yu hadn't still been standing in the office, Mustang was fairly sure that he and his men would be on the floor, all but comatose from shock. Ed never called Mustang 'Sir', never bothered to show the Colonel any of the respect owed to a superior officer. If anything, Ed's contempt for the subservience of the chain of command was legendary. So why the sudden attention to decorum?

Mustang managed, just barely, to keep his wits about him enough to nod.

Ed turned back to the General, and snatched the assignment folder out of the man's hand before retreating back to Roy's side, flanking his left, much like Hawkeye was doing on his right.

"So, I guess I'll have to turn down your offer," Ed said. "Because, as you can see, I've got more important things to do for the Colonel."

Roy thanked whatever god was listening that he'd had enough years to harden his political mask, and so all General Yu saw was cool impassivity, instead of the bafflement and sheer wonder he was actually feeling.

General Yu left eventually, red-faced and sputtering over not only Ed's uncharacteristically smooth rebuttal, but also his failure to finish Mustang off with a second mission. And because Ed had refused to leave the Colonel's side, Roy was able to turn and voice some of what he couldn't say before.

He wanted to express his gratitude. He wanted to say how much it meant to him, really, that he would come through like this, and for him of all people.

But this was Ed, and that was not how they worked. So instead, he cocked an eyebrow and folded his arms.

"And what was that about?" he asked. "I think that was the first time I've seen even a scrap of manners on you."

Ed's face flushed and he instantly strode away from Mustang's side.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," he shot back. "I just happened to catch some of what that guy was saying from outside. He's a jerk. And then he went all paternal and tried to win me over."

"And here I thought that you'd leap at the chance to be out from under my command."

Ed gave a bad-tempered shrug.

"I'd rather work for you than him." Fullmetal made a frantic gargling sound as he realized what he'd said. "I mean, you're both idiots! But I guess you're less of an idiot than he is."

And with that, Mustang found himself without words once again. It wasn't poetry; indeed, Ed was probably incapable of long and flowery vows of devotion. But buried in those rough words was a declaration of loyalty, and the truth of it shone brighter because Ed gave it as himself, in his own way.

After having the boy in his life for so long, Mustang had grown to expect many things from Ed. Shouting matches that would leave his ears ringing for days afterwards. Badly written reports that contained more complaints than mission details. A devil-may-care sort of mischief that made the Colonel check around corners when the boy was on the base.

But never, not for a moment after having met him, had Mustang expected this.

He'd always believed, like most people, that Ed's first and only loyalty lay with his little brother.

Obviously annoyed with Mustang's silence, Ed huffed out a breath. Jerking his head, he tossed his bangs out of golden eyes that were bright with anger, and the smallest bit of embarrassment.

"You look like crap, by the way," he snapped. "Sit down or something before you fall over."

And then he was gone, stomping out of the office, a bad-tempered, blonde tornado. And Mustang smiled, really smiled, because the mission folder was still tucked under the boy's arm.