Same disclaimer applies, I don't own FMA or any of the characters therein. Would be nice *sigh* but still not mine anymore than they were in the last chapter.

Chapter 2

Are Those Stockings?

As Roy drove around in search of a parking space, he found himself grinning for no reason he could name. If he really had to put a name to it, he would call this feeling "triumph". Getting the adorable and tetchy Edward Elric to acknowledge him as anything other than a pest to be ignored and/or exterminated felt like a huge victory. Now, if only he could find a way to make the younger man smile at him . . . now that would be a true victory.

Still wearing a (slightly) smug smile, he approached the ticket-taker at the door – a lovely brunette woman whose eyes sparkled at his approach – and told her that Ed had left a pass for him. She gave him a dreamy nod, her eyes still looking deeply into his with a vaguely hungry expression even as she handed over the little orange "Guest Pass" in its plastic sheath dangling from a white lanyard. He pulled the lanyard over his neck and headed into the exhibition.

The booths were actually a lot more elaborate than he'd been imagining. It was like every nerdy kid's ultimate paradise. Everywhere he looked were eye-catching demonstrations and interactive displays representing nearly every imaginable field of science. Even his own precious thermodynamics was giving its all, and it captured and held Roy's attention for an embarrassingly long time. He felt a sharp tap on his shoulder, and, startled, he spun around wondering if security was waiting to throw him out for being a creepy old guy. He almost let out a loud sigh of relief when saw it was just Winry. She was wearing a black, turn-of-the-century dress and had her blonde hair done up in a Victorian style bun atop her head.

"Hey! Having fun?" she asked him with a bright smile, her vivid blue eyes sparkling with secret laughter.

"Actually, yeah," replied Roy honestly with a sheepish little chuckle. "What can I say? I'm a big geeky kid at heart." Winry laughed aloud this time and wrapped a hand around his elbow, dragging him away from the thermodynamics booth.

"We spotted you from our booth, and Al sent me over to bring you by to see what we've got – and to thank you for giving us a ride," she said as she pulled him a little ways down the aisle to a booth titled The Dawn of Science. It had posters cut and pasted in such a way that the images of long-dead scientists looked almost 3D, the same effect displaying the scientists' names in big block letters. Two young men and one woman in her late forties manned three tables, one at each side of the booth offering information and explanations about science's humble beginnings and most memorable moments. They even had replicas of historical apparatus that had once been used for scientific measurements and a chalkboard showing abbreviations of history's most famous mathematical breakthroughs.

One of the young men manning the booth was Edward, and he was dressed in a long chocolate brown waistcoat, a white cravat around the high neck of his white shirt and long black coat with embellished, folded-back cuffs. His pants were knee length, and he actually had stockings on with them and even the shoes were fitting for the period. The most amusing part – not that the stockings didn't make Roy want to giggle plenty all on their own – was that Edward's wonderful blonde main was tucked into a big white wavy wig.

The other young man managed to avoid wearing a wig, but he wound up with a weird sort of turban instead and was dressed in many-layered robes like something out of Ancient Greece or Rome. He also had to suffer through a fake beard, but he still managed to smile to the children as if he was having as much fun as they were, his grayish green eyes twinkling. Even Edward, despite the tights, managed to look like he was enjoying himself. The older woman was in an early 19th century dress, complete with corset and a bonnet over her dark hair. She wore no make-up, but she had the sort of smooth light olive skin that would never need it. Her dark brown eyes were easily as shrewd and sharp as Edward's, making Roy think that she had be the foster mother and perhaps Edward had learned his scowl from her.

"We're all dressed like famous scientists," Winry informed him as they entered the booth. "I'm Marie Curie, one of the most famous female scientists, like, ever. Izumi is Mary Somerville who ignored her father's wishes and studied math, physics, astronomy, and chemistry back in the early 1800's when women just didn't do that sort of thing. Ed is Isaac Newton because Izumi thought it would be funny to put him in a wig – and plus we needed an outfit that would hide his arms and legs so he wouldn't die of embarrassment – instead he's just maimed by embarrassment. Al is Pythagoras, and anybody who knows anything about math knows who that is. Come on. Let's go say hi to Al."

Ed noticed Roy making his way through the booth, and a bright blush suddenly painted his cheeks, making the little girl he was talking to giggle at him. Roy could only give him an apologetic shrug and jerk his head toward Winry who was still gripping his arm tightly. Edward seemed to get it and offered an apology of his own with his eyes and a nod of solidarity. Apparently, he'd been dragged around by Winry enough himself to empathize with anybody in a similar predicament, even if that anybody happened to be Roy.

"Hey, you must be Roy," said the "bearded" young man in the layered toga. "My name's Alphonse Elric, Ed's younger brother. Winry told me you saved them at the last minute when they missed the bus. I really appreciate it. I don't think I could have done anything this embarrassing without Ed and Winry for moral support."

"No problem, I sort of owed Ed for offending him anyway," Roy told him with a friendly smile. It took Al a moment to untangle his hand from his robes, but once it was free he gave Roy a firm handshake and a rueful chuckle.

"Yeah, well, offending Ed is too easy to do to require reparation every single time," said Alphonse, mischief sparking in his eyes in contrast to his mild expression. "You'd spend most of your time owing him." An apple flew through the air from Ed's direction, and Alphonse just barely managed to catch it rather than get hit by it.

"Hungry?" asked Edward with a wolfish smile.

"Thank you, Brother," replied Alphonse, and though his smile seemed sweet there was the bite of steel in it. These brothers were really something else. "So, Roy, how do you like our booth?" asked Alphonse with a gesture toward the displays and costumes. "I wish we could have been here to help Izumi set up this morning, but Brother had two classes today and work on his research all afternoon – really, between working, attending classes, teaching classes, and lab time I don't think he's been home in three or four days. I also had a class to TA this morning, and I was attending classes for the rest of the day."

"Alphonse, quit slacking," said Izumi, her rich voice snapping out with whip-crack sharpness.

"Sorry Teacher," replied Alphonse with a wave. "I was telling Ed's new friend about the booth."

"Ed's friend? Did I hear you right, kid?" asked Izumi, her eyes widening in surprise. Ed groaned and promptly face-palmed. "Oh, well, in that case, Winry, bring him here. I've got to meet this saint." Now even Roy was embarrassed. He could hardly call himself "Ed's friend". He'd only met him about an hour ago, and he'd hate to misrepresent himself. However, he had the feeling that there was nothing he would be able to say at this point that would convince them of their false conclusion without making trouble.

Winry dragged him over to Izumi, and Roy cast another apologetic look to Ed who just shook his head to let him know it was okay – and also perhaps to offer condolences. "So, where did you meet our Edward?" snapped Izumi. Roy had the feeling that every word she said was spoken with that same severe passion. "I'm Izumi Curtis, just so you know. I raised these two hellions, for my sins."

"My name is Roy Mustang. Ed and I work in different labs in the same building," replied Roy simply, not wanting to dig himself any deeper by expanding on the lie.

"So, another scientist huh? What field?" she demanded, looking thoughtful – or maybe skeptical, it was hard to tell.

"Physics ma'am, specifically thermodynamics," answered Roy and Izumi gave a thoughtful (skeptical?) nod.

"You should come back tomorrow morning then. Edward is giving a little presentation about the Arrow of Time. As a physicist, you might enjoy it," said Izumi. "It's nice to meet you, Mustang. Ed may be a bit rough around the edges, but he's a good kid. It's nice to see him finally making friends." As soon as she was done speaking, Roy couldn't help but feel like he'd just been dismissed. Not one to question somebody as drill sergeant tough as Izumi, Roy turned and went to speak to Ed.

"So, Edward, from what your brother told me, you've probably been living off of vending machine food and lab coffee for the last few days too. Want to go get some real food with me and the other lab geeks after this?" asked Roy boldly. Ed thought about it, his eyes narrowing almost the same exact way Izumi's had.

"You buying?" asked Ed, seemingly suspicious of the offer.

"Sure," said Roy with a shrug. "You can bring your brother and friend too if you want to. It's up to you."

"Nah, they probably have plans. You know, together," said Ed, and his emphasis and expression made his meaning obvious. Roy snickered like a school boy in health class, and Ed waggled his eyebrows with an impish little smile. "But I'm already dying of starvation here. If I didn't think Izumi would club me to death, I'd start eating these apples."

"The do look pretty tasty," admitted Roy, and Ed rolled his eyes.

"Right now, anything that was grown in the ground or was birthed by parents looks tasty to me," he told Roy honestly. Then he lowered his voice and leaned in a little, "I'd even eat these children with enough gravy."

"I'm with you there. I suggest that chunky one over there. I don't think he can run very fast," suggested Roy archly.

"Good, because neither can I in these tights," muttered Ed, squirming.

Roy let out an involuntarily loud laugh but quickly stifled it with both hands. "Well, what time will you be done do you think?" he asked when he had regained control. "I could come pick you up here, or you could meet me there. Whatever's easiest."

"We're supposed to wrap up at 8:00. I'll want to . . . you know . . . shower after this, so I'll meet you there. Where are we going?" asked Ed, and Roy secretly thrilled that he had, despite being sleep-deprived and probably smelling distinctly unwashed, somehow managed to blunder into a date with a gorgeous, feisty prodigy. It was all he could do to keep a grin from creeping onto his face.

"Well, are you a meat and potatoes kind of guy, or more of a chicken and veggies guy?" asked Roy and Ed laughed, that wondrous sound sending pleasant shivers up and down Roy's spine.

"All of the above," he answered. "If it's not moving, I'll eat it. But after the week I've had, red meat would be seriously awesome."

"Agreed," said Roy emphatically. After the mess in the lab, he could definitely go for something carnivore-worthy and possibly still bleeding. "How about O'Hannigans on Washington? They've got a killer porterhouse that even Gandhi wouldn't be able to resist. Have you ever been?"

"Yeah, they're one of Sig's customers," said Ed, smiling excitedly. "Sig's Izumi's husband. He has a butcher shop. Best meat anywhere. Any restaurant that buys their meat from Sig is guaranteed to be awesome, no question."

"You've got the hookup with a butcher shop? Dude, you're my new best friend!" enthused Roy, and Ed let out another of his delightful laughs. "Then I'll see you there around . . . 9:00?" Ed agreed and Roy left with a last wave for Izumi, Al, and Winry.

By 9:00, Roy was a bundle of nerves. He didn't really mind the nervousness though, since it kept him from falling asleep. His long-awaited shower was like heaven, as was the sandwich he ate to tide him over until dinner. He'd had to hit the grocery store first to stock his fridge again, but that wonderful sandwich had been well worth the extra effort. He'd also taken the time to call his lab team to tell them they were on for dinner, after which he put in a call to his two closest friends to let them know he was still alive since they hadn't seen Roy in days and would be worried.

When Roy got to the restaurant at a little before 9:00, Breda and Fuery were already there and had already shoved tables together, gathering enough chairs for everybody. Sheska was the next to show up, her messenger bag over her shoulder instead of the more typical purse most girls would carry. Falman arrived soon after, so the only one missing was Edward. By ten after 9:00, Roy began to worry that the blonde wasn't going to make it. The fact that Roy didn't have a phone number or any other way to reach the younger man didn't help.

Then the whole world fell away as Edward finally walked through the door. His cheeks were lightly pink from exertion and his lips were slightly parted as he panted. Ed had replaced the baggy jeans and loose red sweater with black jeans that fit him deliciously well and a long-sleeved button-up the color of drying blood tucked into the waistband, held in place by a studded leather belt. He still wore the old boots he'd been wearing when they'd first met, but they added a certain devil-may-care quality to his outfit, and the thin black leather gloves added an air of mystery. Instead of the loose braid of earlier, his hair was gathered in a high ponytail that fell like a glittering cascade of melted gold. To say he cleaned up well would be a tragic injustice to his stunning transformation.

"Wow, you look great Ed!" exclaimed Sheska, all but squealing. Ed blushed, ducking his head bashfully.

"I'm so glad you could make it," said Roy, pulling out a chair for Ed to sit. "I was starting to worry you'd opted for sleep instead. I won't lie, I almost did that myself."

Ed chuckled softly. "I was seriously tempted. It's been a long fucking week, no lie. But then I remembered there was steak involved and I said, 'What the hell! I can sleep when I'm dead!'"

"Here, here!" said Breda as everybody laughed and lifted their beverages to toast zombified starving students everywhere.

"We're scientists. Caffeine isn't an option, it's a way of life," declared Ed and they all laughed again in hearty agreement.

"I've definitely spent a lot of years worshipping at the altar of coffee," put in Roy, and Ed nodded sagely.

"When I was an undergrad student, I got bored as fuck one weekend and built a coffee machine that looks like it came off the set of Star Trek and it does everything but have your babies," Ed told them, pausing to order from the waitress who greeted him familiarly. Once she'd left, he continued. "It has an attached roaster and grinder and can be hooked up to a waterline so you never have to pour water in it. Plus, it has interchangeable attachments that let you do cappuccinos and espressos. I mean, for real, I want to fucking marry this thing. I wanted to bring it to the lab, but I'm afraid the engineering students would steal it. They like to steal shit I build when my back is turned. They just want to take it apart and figure out what I did, the grabby fuckers." Ed suddenly stopped, his face redder than ever. "Yeah, sorry for rambling. I guess I had a little too much caffeine."

"It's all right," said Fuery cheerfully. "I hate to say it, but hearing about your coffee machine, I wouldn't mind seeing how it's built myself. I know I'm in physics, but I still like to fiddle with electronics and computers."

"Nothing wrong with hobbies," said Ed with a little wave of his hand. "I mean, come on, I'm a biochemist right? But I've also done a ton of other shit like engineering and particle physics and all this other shit. Those were my hobbies – still are. My brother said I need to get dumber hobbies – like he's got room to talk. So, I took up coffee snobbery as my hobby. Now he says I need a hobby that doesn't end in him having to peel me off the fucking ceiling with a spatula. So I told him he needs a hobby besides nagging his older brother about his life choices."

"Maybe try knitting or something," suggested Breda and Ed laughed along with everybody around the table.

"I actually tried it," said Ed, still chuckling. "Al says to me, 'Brother, you're not allowed to pick a hobby that puts anything sharp and pointy in your hands. One temper tantrum and I'd be bringing you books in prison.' I'm not a fucking nutjob or anything, but I could see myself feeling stabby when my students start whining too fucking much, so I gave up. Al tried it too, but he started looking like he was going to poke his eye out – or mine – so I took the needles away."

"Let me introduce you around," said Roy laughing, and Ed turned an inquisitive look toward him that was ridiculously adorable. Roy went around the table, pointing to each person as he named them then formally introduced Ed to them. After the initial intros, Roy elaborated a little, "Me, Breda, and Fuery have known each since high school. Falman joined our little group when we started college, and Sheska's been assisting us for over a year. The rest of our little group from high school are at Central University too, but they're in different departments."

"Yeah, they're studying law, the poor bastards," said Breda with a pitying shake of his head. "Well, except for Havoc. He's got a sports scholarship, and I don't think he's ever going to settle on a major."

"So, I know you're, like, a prodigy or whatever, but how does that whole super-genius thing work?" asked Breda, and abruptly Edward's expression shut down. It was like he had suddenly stepped behind iron gates and slammed those gates in their faces. They could only blink at him in shock at the change. "No offense dude! It's nothing bad. I'm curious, is all. Just, I have to really struggle through most of my classes, and you always hear all this crap about how prodigies don't really have to work as hard. But I look at you and your eyebags are just as scary as ours. We all look like a bunch of pandas. So, I was wondering what the difference was. Do you just pick stuff up faster or is it, like, a bigger memory thing or what?"

"Is this a trick question?" asked Edward dryly, but then he let out a soft sigh and smirked. "It's like this . . . so think of each person's brain like its own little computer, all right? Each one is a different brand – they have different combinations of different brands of components, all of them with different kinds of wear and tear and varying quality of parts. Some of them have faster processing speed, some have more memory – or less – and some are just shitty right from the start and no matter how many parts you switch out will never be able to run more than Pong. You with me so far?" he asked, looking around the table until everybody nodded. "So, me and Al have the equivalent of high-end processors, state of the art motherboards, and a few terabytes worth of memory. It's still a computer, just like everybody else has got, but it's faster and holds a fuck-ton more information for a longer period of time before the memory degrades." Ed shrugged, blushing a little. "It's a shitty analogy, but it's really hard to explain. I mean, it's not something you do, it's something you are. You know? It's not just how you see yourself, it's how you see everything. You look at the table and see wood and a place to put your beer. I look at the table and see the chemical composition of the finish, the age of the table based on its rate of deterioration, the methods and tools used for fitting the pieces of wood together, the germs and bacteria that might possibly be crawling around on it, and its exact dimensions down to the centimeter. In the time we've been here, I've already calculated the most efficient placement of the tables to optimize convenience and make the most of available space and maximize the number of available seating for customers while still remaining within the parameters of fire safety and health regulations and HIPPA guidelines. So yeah . . ." Flashing gold eyes turned to Roy as if assessing him, gauging his reaction. "I mean, we still had to read a lot of books to get where we are now. Sheska can tell you. I spent what little time I was in high school hiding out in the library, reading. When other kids were hanging out or going to movies, I was reading through the text books, working ahead. Teacher forced us to go high school in the first place, but she promised that I only had to put up with that shit long enough to graduate. She didn't say I had to put up with four years . . . so, I didn't. I still did four years' worth of work though. I just did it in less time. The effort is the same, but the timeline was compressed."

"It must be hard to sleep with all that going on in your head all the time," commented Roy grimly. "I can't imagine how you manage to stay focused on any one thing at a time."

"I guess sleeping is harder for me than Al, but he's a more laid back sort of guy and that makes a difference. And we each have ways of making our heads quiet down before bed. Al reads super trashy fiction. I play solitaire – lots and lots of solitaire," said Ed with a shrug. "And I'm actually a little too good at focusing. Al says a bomb could go off next to me while I'm reading, and I wouldn't notice. He's probably right. Once I start concentrating, I'm there and nowhere else."

They're food arrived, and it was every bit as good as they had thought it would be. After a week of stale, pre-packaged food and coffee that came with its own primordial ooze, the steak was divine. It took a few bites for them to finally awaken from the foodgasm enough to resume conversation, but once they got the ball rolling, it didn't take much to keep it going. Ed kept trying to bow out of talking, seemingly content to sit quietly and let their talk flow around him. It was only when Falman asked Ed about his most recent paper that he came out of his shell again.

When it came to science, he spoke animatedly about his favorite fields of study, telling them some of his pet theories and expounding on the theories of others as easily as others would discuss a ball game. His passion for science made his whole face light up, and they were all enjoying that light so much that they shamelessly kept him going long after they would have normally changed the subject. He was even able to immediately understand their own research and, unlike so many other people who would have been yawning three words in, he listened attentively, just as fascinated as a kid listening to his favorite adventure story. For Ed, science was an adventure and probably always would be.

"Ed!" called a man jovially from across the dining room. "How you been, kid?"

"I've told you, don't call me kid," snarled Ed. "Do I need to break your nose again Denny?"

"Ah, come on, last time I saw you, you weren't even legal yet, Ed," said the man as he approached the table and stopped right by Ed's shoulder. He was dressed in a basic chef's uniform, but with a backwards ball cap instead of one of the silly chef's hats. "Take it easy on me."

"So, what do you want, besides to harass me?" demanded Ed and the man chuckled, taking Ed's tone in stride as if he was used to it.

"No, I pretty much just came to harass you," said Denny, and Ed scowled at him. "Melissa told me that you were here with actual people. And nobody was screaming. Or bleeding. I was stunned. Then she said Al wasn't even here to translate or hold you back. I had to come see for myself." Ed held a fist up in front of the man's face, slowly flexing his fingers to make every joint pop loudly. "Ah, but see, if you give me a pass today, I'll comp part of the meal. I am the owner, after all." Ed grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down so that they were almost nose to nose, his gold eyes blazing.

"How much is part?" asked Ed coldly.

"Name your price kid. You know the drill," replied the man, a little strained but relatively unruffled.

"So, given the menu price of each item and current food costs, charged at bulk rates, and not counting labor, you can recoup the cost of producing the meal by charging us approximately 52% of the meal total after tax," replied Ed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment then nodding to confirm. "Yeah, 52%, so fork over the check and let's see the damage." Ed released the man with an indifferent gesture. As if he'd been prepared for exactly this, the man pulled out the check and handed it to Ed with a pen. Ed looked at the total cost of the meal after tax and wrote a corrected price right under it before handing it to Roy.

"You little shit! You're not even paying!" protested the man, and Ed's eyes blazed anew.

"Who're you calling little?" Ed grabbed the man by the shirtfront again, quicker than thought.

"I'll throw in dessert," choked out the restaurant owner, and Ed released him. "You're such a bully."

"Only to fucktards who can't keep their fucking mouths shut. One more comment outta you and I'll tell Izumi you said she has crow's feet," threatened Edward as he gazed down at the dessert menu. "Or worse, I'll tell Sig."

"Jeez kid, you don't know the meaning of fighting fair, do you?" said Denny with a little cough as he straightened out his shirt.

"Den, there's no such thing as fair in any fight," explained Ed distractedly. "Somebody is always going to get hurt and somebody is always going to do the hurting. It's all about taking advantage of weaknesses and coming out on top. There's never anything fair about it."

"My Aunt Chris used to say something similar. She said there's no such thing as a fair fight. The only rule is to not be the guy on the ground when it's over," put in Roy, and Ed looked up, his eyes meeting Roy's with that inquisitive look, and a moment later he smiled slightly, his eyes the mellow gold of warm honey. He winked then returned his attention to the dessert menu.

"Anybody else want free dessert?" asked Denny, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. "Just because he got it by extortion, doesn't mean the offer's not genuine."

"And you have got to try the chocolate cake! It's his wife Maria's recipe. It's so good you have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming," enthused Ed and Denny laughed more fully. "But I think this time I want the turtle cake – no whipped cream, no cherries, and don't skimp on the caramel, skinflint."

"Yes, dear," replied Denny with mock-exasperation.

"Well, I guess since it earned such a ringing endorsement, I'll try the chocolate cake," said Roy and when Ed grinned at him, his heart stuttered in his chest. Having a smile like that was just plain cheating, no two ways about it.

"I'm kinda full, but what girl can turn down chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake," ventured Sheska shyly.

"I'm always down for dessert!" said Breda happily. "Put me down for a piece of that chocolate cake – and is there any chance of adding a little of that caramel to it?"

"Man after my own heart!" said Ed, laughing, he and Breda fist-bumping in salute of good taste.

"Actually, that sounds really good," said Kain with a groan, and he opted to get the same thing.

"I guess I'll dare to be different. Give me the brownie sundae," said Falman boldly. It was strange because he wasn't usually the bold type – ever. Maybe it was because of Ed's presence. Roy had discovered during dinner that something about Ed just drew them all out. He was so real, so there, living each moment with so much intensity, that it was impossible not to enjoy the moment too.

Dessert was just as fantastic as dinner, and they all enjoyed the lively chatter. However, exhaustion was a harsh taskmistress – and rude too – so they were all yawning before much longer and decided to call it a night. Outside, Roy waited for Ed to exit and drew him aside. "This was a lot of fun," said Roy sincerely. "You should join us more often. We'd be happy to have you."

"Um . . . sure," said Ed, all at once unsure. "Well, I gotta head out. It's a long walk from here, and I ain't waiting the hour-plus for the next bus."

"I could give you a ride," offered Roy tentatively, remembering after the words were already out of his mouth how badly Ed reacted to being in cars.

Ed fidgeted unhappily, scuffing his toe against the sidewalk. "Nah, it's better if I walk. But thanks. Guess I'll see you around." With that he turned on his heel and walked away, his stride devouring the ground without looking like he was rushing. Roy just shook his head to himself and got into his car. Tomorrow was another day, and hopefully he would have as much time as he needed to coax out answers to the many mysteries of Ed Elric.