A/N: This chapter really took a lot longer than I thought it would. Sadly, ch 16 may take even longer than this. Also, this chapter wound up being hella longer than I anticipated. I fear the next chapter will be uber long too, and will also likely be the long-awaited conclusion (I hope). I may include a little epilogue after that, too, cuz I love a good epilogue. Now, the question is, what will I write next? I'm totally stumped (tho I'm thinking of maybe doing a sequel to this one, but from Ed's POV this time). *tired sigh* This chapter isn't all it could be, but I think my brain is seriously melting, so not unexpected. I mean, I love writing with every fiber of my being, but I've written over 150 pages (88,551 words) in just under a month for this project alone (don't even ask how much I've done in my novels this month - it's ridiculous too). Even at 92 WPM, that's just freakishly obsessive. I'm entitled to a little brain meltage (I know it's not a word and am too tired to care). Ugh, I need a hobby that doesn't involve typing. My keyboard and I have had a lovely affair thus far, but I think it's time we see other people . . .
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 15
Who You Calling An Elf?!
Roy watched intently as Ed, Fuery, and Paninya worked together in a weird little bubble of silent communication. If one of them needed a tool that another one had, they didn't ask for it or even look up to see who had it. They just sort of seemed to sense when it was set down and reached for it as soon as it was free. Whenever one of them needed more space, all it took was a slight shift in their seat, and the other two would make room, also without looking up from their work. It was eerie and, at the same time, utterly fascinating. Roy had gone into his library, which they had temporarily converted into a workroom, with the intention of letting them know that lunch was ready, but then he'd gotten caught up watching the silent nerd-hive and hadn't yet been able to drag his gaze away.
The stalemate was suddenly broken when Ed seemed to finish whatever he was working on and sat up straight. He stretched his arms above his head and arched his back, as if he was waking from a nap. His spine and joints made a series of soft pops, and Ed released a sigh of relief. Ed's hair was a wreck – not quite as worthy as his typical bedhead, but pretty close – and his glasses were slightly crooked on his grease-smudged nose. He was a mess, but in the most delightful way possible. "Hey you guys, lunch is ready," offered Roy finally, smiling warmly at his disheveled lover.
"Awesome," said Ed, tired but pleased. Paninya looked up as if startled but then she grinned when she realized food had been mentioned. While she was stretching, Ed reached over and nudged Fuery gently. "Come on, it's time for a break," Ed told him. Kain blinked at him owlishly for a long moment then offered him a weary smile and stretched just like the other two had. Roy laughed quietly at them as he herded them downstairs to the kitchen table.
The night they'd all agreed to work together, they'd all gone to their respective homes to get some rest and gear up for the days ahead. It was good that they had, since none of them had been able to get much rest since. They were all too acutely aware of the short clock they were laboring under, and what was at stake if they fell short of the deadline.
Roy wasn't even aware of what everyone else was working on. He'd been too busy directing his own group and liaising with Grumman and with his Aunt Chris's people. Maes and Jean were handling legwork, with Maes collecting info on Ouroboros while Jean handled collecting info about the dean and his dealings. Breda was handling compiling the information gathered by Roy, Maes, and Jean, sifting through it all for relevance and organizing it into the categories given to him by Ed ahead of time. It was a lot of work, but also a lot of waiting and watching and just listening. This translated to enough downtime that the four of them had taken over the basic care of Ed's group – meaning that they made sure that Ed and company took time to eat and that they stayed sufficiently caffeinated.
Ed, Fuery, Falman, and Paninya had been working out of Roy's library, since space at Pinako's automail clinic was limited. A few long folding tables were sat end to end to give them room to work, and they were using every inch of that space. They'd even had to liberate a white board from the university. Unidentifiable bits of electronics, various tools and measuring implements, piles of notes, and a teetering stack of rolled up schematics were strewn across every inch of those tables, making Roy wonder if it might be necessary to get another table. There was no telling if it really would be necessary though, since Roy couldn't even begin to guess what the three were creating under Ed's exacting direction.
Ed himself was giving the word multitasking a whole new meaning. He bounced between working with "the library crew" and helping with the mysterious project he'd given to Al, Winry, and Pinako. He also helped with organizing the data he received from Roy's group, and feeding the data into his "reenactment model" at the end of the day. On top of all that, sometimes, they'd lay down for a brief nap or stop for a meal break and return to find that Ed had already finished whatever somebody else had been working on. He was like the elves in that old story about the elves and the shoemaker – not that anybody hated living enough to point that out to him. Ed was starting to look a bit frayed at the edges – even without being aware of the elf comparison – but none of them had the courage to tell him to slow down. He had already been short on patience and sleep at the start of his little nerd decathlon, but now he was at the crumbling edge of collapse. Good thing Roy had a guaranteed time-out up his sleeve, and since it was also something that was necessary for the case, Ed couldn't turn it down.
"Where did Falman go?" asked Roy as they entered the kitchen.
"He went to scavenge more components for us," replied Ed with a shrug. "He's going to be a while though, so we probably won't see him until tomorrow morning."
"By the way, Ed," said Roy, making sure he sounded as casual as possible. "My Aunt Chris is coming by tonight for dinner. The dinner is just a pretense to deliver the rest of her findings without looking suspicious to outside observers. But when I told her you could cook, her interest was piqued. Is there any chance of you making dinner tonight? I know you're busy, but it'll be a nice change of pace I think. You can go back to working yourself into premature baldness after dessert. What do you say?"
Ed looked up, caught in the middle of taking a bite of his sandwich. Ed then said something Roy thought was supposed to be "the fuck you say?" but since his mouth was full it was more like "da uck oo ay?" Ed swallowed what he was chewing then turned a horrified look on Roy. "But, Roy, I look like patient zero for the zombie apocalypse, and I feel like the unholy offspring of shit and shit sandwich. I can't meet new people like this!"
"Nonsense, love, you look fine," said Roy, reaching up with one hand to smooth Ed's hair. "Since you just finished what you were working on, why don't you go upstairs and take a nice hot bath and a power nap. If you leave me a list, I can do the grocery shopping while you rest and wake you up when it's time to start dinner. It'll give everybody else a chance to get a little sleep too. You all need it. I know the four of you, at least, haven't had more than four or five hours sleep between you in the last two days. How can you expect to keep being brilliant if you never let your brain recharge?"
Ed looked like he wanted to argue the point, but he was just too tired to have enough active brain cells left to fight with. "All right, all right," said Ed at last. "But this is me lodging my complaint. I'm still not fully fucking kosher with the idea of meeting the woman who raised you while I'm distracted and sleep-deprived and probably jellyfish witless because of it. And it's totally not my fault if she thinks I'm, like, some Dr. Frankenstein wannabe mad scientist."
"It'll be fine," said Roy reassuringly. "Aunt Chris is going to love you. The two of you have a very similar sense of humor. Besides, it's only fair since I had to meet Izumi before we were even seeing each other, and she's since threatened to chop me and up hang me in the window of the butcher shop as a deterrent for future suitors. As you and Al would say, this is equivalent exchange."
"Fair enough. I'm going to go bathe," declared Ed with a haughty sniff as he stood up and set his plate in the sink. "Paninya, Fuery, you two are welcome to finish up what you're working on, but Roy's right, we're all overdue for some rest – and a fucking bath. I feel like I could cook French fries with the amount of grease in our hair right now. So gross." Paninya and Fuery gave weary laughs and agreed with Ed's assessment wholeheartedly. "I'll just call Falman and let him know we're taking a break for the rest of the day." Roy offered to give Paninya and Fuery a ride to the dorms while Ed was bathing, and they both accepted his offer gratefully.
Roy expected Ed to be out of the bath by the time he got back, but instead he discovered that Ed was slumped over in the tub, fast asleep. Smiling to himself, Roy gently shook Ed awake. Ed's eyes snapped open, the poor boy startled and flailing as his brain caught up with his current location. "Have you washed your hair yet," asked Roy gently, and Ed shook his head then splashed water on his face to wake up. "Then allow me," offered Roy, already rolling up his sleeves. Ed frowned at him, giving him that "are you sure you're not an alien" stare, blinking slowly as the moment stretched. Roy's smile remained unwavering, so Ed eventually capitulated.
Roy scrubbed Ed's hair with sure but gentle pressure, massaging his scalp until the younger man was all but purring. Once his hair was rinsed, Roy proceeded to wash the rest of him, though he was careful to keep his touches firm and innocent. He loved nothing more than running his hands over every inch of Ed's skin, but to try to initiate anything sexual in this context felt like it would be a violation of the trust being placed in him. It felt like an unbelievable luxury to be granted such a high level of trust, and Roy would do nothing to risk destroying that.
When Ed got out of the bath, Roy left him to dry off and went to the spare room to dig in Ed's bag for a clean pair of boxers and something for Ed to sleep in. He found clean underwear, but was thwarted for something clean to sleep in. As a compromise, Roy dug in his own dresser and pulled out a pair of pajama pants and handed those to Ed with his boxers. "We've gotten spoiled with Al doing our laundry, so we've been neglecting it over the last few days," stated Roy to answer the lift of Ed's questioning eyebrow.
Ed gave the pajama pants a skeptical frown but pulled them on . . . then glared – hard. They barely stayed on him, clinging for dear life to his hips in a way that couldn't be anything other than lascivious. With a sigh of irritation, Ed yanked the pants up, pulled the drawstring as tight as it could go then rolled the waistband a couple times. He then bent neatly in half – something Roy would never get tired of seeing – so he could roll the pants legs up so they no longer pooled around his feet. Roy was wise enough to refrain from laughing, or even smiling in any way that might be construed as laughter-like. Ed may be tired, but that didn't mean he was above planting automail toes in vulnerable shins. To appease his annoyed lover, Roy brushed out Ed's damp hair and pulled it back into a simple tail secured at the nape of his neck so that it wouldn't annoy him while he was sleeping – since, according to Ed, sleeping with high ponytails led to headaches.
"Get some sleep, love," said Roy, wrapping his arms around his lover's waist and planting a soft kiss on his head. "I'll wake you up in a couple hours." Ed finally laid down and burrowed into the blankets, Roy turning off the light for him before leaving.
The trip to the grocery store shouldn't have taken long, but throughout the trip, Roy couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was being watched. It made his shoulder blades twitch, but he made sure to give no indication in either his expression or manner that he had noticed. For all he knew, he could be imagining things, but it was better to be safe than sorry. So he was cautious, making sure that nobody looking at him would think anything was amiss, while in truth Roy was ever-so-carefully searching for some visual proof of surveillance. He was not disappointed.
He was standing at the butcher counter when he spotted furtive movement in the overhead security mirror. Roy idly sidled to the right as if perusing the meat selection, trying to get a better angle. His efforts paid off, and he was able to see a woman dressed in black cargo pants and a black pullover hoodie, her face one that Roy recognized from Ed's "spy files". Even if he hadn't recognized her face, he would have, at first sight, known her for a hired gun. It was in the way she carried herself, the casual readiness of her stance, and the suppressed tension in her every movement. Her body language screamed "military". If he remembered correctly from her profile, this was not a woman he wanted to tangle with.
What he needed was somebody to watch his back and act as a potential witness to any shenanigans his creepy new girlfriend might try to pull. Roy waited until he had placed his order with the butcher then texted an SOS to Maes. Maes's house was close to the grocery store, so he should be able to get there fairly quickly – he hoped. Should he text Ed? Would Ed even get the message, seeing as he was probably already dead to the world? And even if he got the message, he had no way of getting to the store in anything like a reasonable amount of time. One way or another, Roy did not need to walk out of that store alone, so Maes was his best bet. Thankfully, Maes settled Roy's weird little internal debate by texting him back, telling him, "Sit tight. I'll be there in 5."
Roy breathed a sigh of relief and waited patiently for the butcher to finish packaging the meat that had been on Ed's shopping list. After Roy had received his order from the butcher and placed it in the basket, he wandered around the store, taking his time to find the rest of the items on the list. When Maes finally found him, Roy could have hugged the man then and there. Maes waved at him as if surprised to have found a familiar face at the supermarket. Roy responded the same way, hiding away his relief.
The two of them ambled through the grocery aisles, talking about the little nothings of everyday life. Maes, of course, took advantage of the captive audience to show him about a hundred pictures of "the most adorable angel to ever drop from the heavens". Normally, Roy would have escaped long before they got to the hundredth picture, but he really had no choice but to stick it out and endure his torment to the bitter end.
At the checkout line, Maes shifted his focus a bit, and shared some of his beloved photos with the cashier whose expression became remarkably dazed shortly after Maes opened his mouth. Roy had to physically drag him away to save the poor girl from photographic bombardment. Roy quickly weighed his friend down with some of the grocery bags so he wouldn't have a free hand for pulling out pictures then the pair walked to Roy's car, Maes still pouting.
Maes rode home with him, asking after Ed as soon as they walked in the door. Roy explained that Ed was taking a much-needed nap, and Maes nodded with an almost fatherly smile on his face. "That kid really doesn't know how to do half measures, does he?" asked Maes, his tone fond.
Roy chuckled softly. "No, he really doesn't."
"And speaking of half measures, I think we might need to start getting a little stricter about security," said Maes with a look of distaste. "I think it might be a good idea to start traveling in packs. It'll be safer if we're at least in pairs at all times. So, next time you leave the house, make sure you have Ed or Al with you. I'll tell them the same thing. We can't afford to be caught alone right now, since that's obviously what they're waiting for – for us to be alone, with no witnesses."
"I was thinking the same thing," said Roy, unhappily. Ed wasn't going to like it, but Roy was fairly sure he could convince him of the necessity.
As he was thinking of Ed, a horrible notion occurred to him and it had him all but running up the stairs. While Roy had been at the store, Ed had been alone too. And not only had he been alone, he'd been deeply asleep, making him vulnerable. When Roy reached his bedroom, he was relieved beyond measure to find Ed still fast asleep under his thick pile of blankets. He was safe and sound, though he looked like he was having a nightmare. Roy walked over to the bed and laid his hand on the top of Ed's head – the only thing the blankets didn't cover. Ed's forehead glistened with sweat and his face was scrunched up as if he was in pain. Feeling bad for him, Roy found his shoulder amidst the blankets and shook it gently. Ed's eyes snapped open and for a heart-stopping moment there was genuine terror in those golden depths. "It's all right," said Roy soothingly. "It was just a dream, love."
Ed drew in a long shaky breath and let it out slowly, the fear fading slower still. Roy didn't bother to ask him what his dream had been about. He knew Ed wouldn't appreciate questions. If he wanted to talk about it he would, but being asked would certainly make him not want to tell. Roy pulled Ed into his arms, holding him just tight enough to convey safety and comfort, and after a moment he was gratified to feel Ed wrap his arms around him in return. He buried his face in Roy's chest, and Roy was happy to let him hide until he was ready to face the world again.
When Ed began to squirm a bit, Roy released him and leaned back, tenderly brushing the hair back from Ed's face. "I haven't had that dream in years," said Ed hoarsely. "I mean, shit, I'm a fucking adult now. I'm so over that shit . . . but I guess all this crap's just been too much damn stress."
"I won't ask you what you dreamed about, but if you want to tell me, I'll listen," offered Roy, a compromise between his resolve to keep his nose out of it and the need to give Ed the comfort of knowing he wasn't alone.
"It's not a big deal," said Ed, leaning back against the headboard and running a hand through his bangs. "It's just replays of the past, of my regrets. It sort of makes sense I'd be seeing that shit now, of all times. Twelve years ago, I made a choice. I prioritized one life over another, and no matter which way I chose I was going to lose one of them. I don't so much regret my choice. You shoulder never ever regret saving a life. Teacher made sure I understood that. But . . . sometimes I wonder if the one who lost her life would agree?" For the briefest, most breathless moment Ed looked so heartbroken, so wounded. But then the moment passed and he shook his head as if to clear it and pasted a smile on his face. "It doesn't matter. The point is that I'm working to make sure I don't ever have to make that choice again. Do you ever wonder why I know so much about medicine and biochemistry and biomechanics but never go into medicine? It's because I wouldn't be able to handle doing triage. It would kill me to have to decide who lives and who dies based on percentages and probabilities. Because, for me, if there is even a 1% probability that somebody can be saved, it's enough to make me want to try."
Roy looked at Ed for a long moment, utterly speechless, but then he reached forward, almost involuntarily, and pulled Ed into another hug. "I really don't tell you enough how amazing you are," whispered Roy into Ed's hair, the compliment making the younger man squirm. Roy laughed as Ed finally worked his way free, but then Roy pulled Ed in again for a fiery kiss. Ed let out a quiet moan and melted into Roy's embrace, and it was all Roy could do not to deepen the kiss still further. "Do you want to try to get some more sleep?"
"Not really," said Ed languidly, looking up at Roy with that sultry smile that set his blood ablaze. "But I can think of a more interesting way to relax." That was all it took to shatter Roy's tenuous control of his growling libido. Roy tried to maintain enough control to at least be a little careful with Ed since it was obvious his automail ports were bothering him. But Ed threw caution to the wind, ignoring his pain and pursuing his pleasure with his usual wild abandon. When a lover as fiery and beautiful – and flexible – as Edward wanted to be ravaged, only a fool would deny him – and Roy was no fool.
By the time they had collapsed onto the sheets, Ed was plainly sleepy, but also considerably more relaxed, so Roy chalked it up as a win. However, looking at the glowing face of the alarm clock made Roy curse out loud and hustle his drowsy lover into the shower, joining him to make sure he didn't fall asleep standing up. Once they were dressed and downstairs, Roy found Maes sitting on a chair in the parlor with a book and a shit-eating grin on his face that made Roy want to punch him. Roy ignored him as he guided half-asleep Ed safely into the parlor.
Maes followed Roy into the kitchen, leaving Ed to doze on the sofa while the coffee was brewing. "You totally panicked, so I followed you upstairs, but it looked like a private couples' moment when I got there, so I bowed out before either of you noticed me," said Maes, his unvoiced laughter dancing in his green eyes. Roy's face burned with the heat of a blush that would do a virgin choirboy proud. "But, next time, you might want to at least close the bedroom door. I'm not going to say you guys were loud or anything, but with the door open like that, the sound still carries." That's it, forget punching, Roy was feeling distinctly homicidal.
"Breathe a word of that to Ed, and I'll end you," growled Roy, but Maes just laughed, reinforcing Roy's surge of homicidal intent. An unexpected knock at the front door was the only thing that saved the asshole's life. Roy walked through the parlor, heading for the door, and was a little surprised to see that Ed hadn't stirred at the sound. Before Roy could quite reach the door, he heard it open and a second later, his Aunt Chris appeared in the foyer. She hadn't changed much since the last time he'd seen her. She was heavyset, and a little rough-looking, with long wavy dark hair and the same full mouth and sarcastic smirk that Roy boasted. It was the only thing aside from his build that Roy had inherited from his father's side of the family. His dark upswept eyes, almost-delicate pointed features, and pale skin were all gifts from his mother. Chris, his father's older sister, was the spitting image of her own father, Roy's grandfather, with broader shoulders than most women and a square-ish jawline.
He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek then gestured for silence, taking the covered cake pan out of her hands. Judging by the weight, there was no dessert to be found in the pan. If he wasn't mistaken, the only thing to be found in there was the information she had promised. He led her through the parlor then pointed at the sofa and its sleeping occupant. Chris lifted an impressed but inquiring eyebrow at him, and the look Roy gave her said, "Yes, that's him. Isn't he darling?"
"I can feel you watching, Roy. It's creepy," mumbled Ed and Chris broke out into hysterical laughter – and it only got worse at Ed's startled squeak.
"Morning, Sunshine," said Roy dryly when Ed lifted his head, blinking in incomprehension at the stranger in the room. "I'll go get the coffee I promised before you eviscerate me. Aunt Chris, be gentle, he just woke up, and he's not a morning person."
"I can see that," she snorted.
"Actually, you should come see this coffee machine," said Roy suddenly, grinning as he imagined his Aunt's reaction.
"What did you waste money on this time?" she asked with an exasperated sigh as she followed him into the kitchen. Ed followed after them a bit more slowly.
"Hey, Hughes," said Ed around a yawn. "When did you get here?"
"I've been here for a while now, but I was downstairs hanging out in the parlor," said Maes, but luckily Ed wasn't quick on the uptake when he wasn't all awake yet. Though he did notice Maes's hand going toward his breast pocket before any pictures could emerge, and Ed threw up a hand to forestall the impending photographic onslaught.
"If I see so much as a single picture, I will get my blow torch," threatened Ed in a low growl. Maes knew when he was beat – Ed didn't make idle threats – so he held up his hands in surrender. Roy and Chris turned away to snicker quietly amongst themselves.
"How you been Maes?" asked Chris, giving him a hard slap on the back. Maes stumbled forward a step, but smiled and gave Chris a kiss on the cheek.
"I've been good," he replied simply.
Meanwhile, Roy poured coffee for Edward and handed it over before getting coffee for everybody else. "What in the world is that?" asked Chris, turning to glare at the coffee machine.
"Ed brought it with him for the sake of its safety, so, like I said, it's not something I bought," explained Roy, stepping out of the way so she could get a closer look at Ed's baby. "Edward designed and built it himself – in his spare time, if you can believe it."
Ed showed her all of the machine's features and explained to her a little bit about how he had built it. While Ed and Aunt Chris bonded over Ed's coffee hobby, Roy called Al to fill him in on what had happened during the grocery trip and told him he should come home for dinner and why. It took some fast-talking and cajoling to convince Al that he and the rest of them needed to rest before they burned out. Finally, Al gave in, and Roy reminded him not to travel alone. Al said he would call Izumi and Sig to escort him home since their shop wasn't far from Winry's place. Once he'd hung up, it occurred to him that he'd also have to fill Ed in on what happened, but he decided it would be best to wait until Ed was a little more awake – and a little less nervous.
Ed's nerves weren't overt. For the most part, he seemed like his usual witty self, if a bit grumpy from having just woken up. But there were small signs that only somebody who knew Ed would notice – though Chris had probably noticed too, if only by benefit of her ungodly perceptiveness. It was in the very faint tremor in his voice when he answered direct questions, the slightly off-kilter tilt to his smile, and the way he kept stopping mid-curse word and replacing it with something less offensive.
Eventually, Ed shooed everybody out of the kitchen, asking Roy how many they were expecting for dinner. Roy didn't know, but he promised to find out. But since everybody else had left the kitchen, and Ed was as awake as he was likely to get, Roy took the chance to explain the situation and the need for traveling in groups. To Roy's surprise, Ed agreed that traveling in groups and pairs would be safest for the time being. He also rather suddenly hugged Roy, saying in a voice as soft as a breath, "I'm glad you're okay."
"Me too, love," said Roy, simply folding his arms around Ed and kissing the top of his head. "Now, all that being said, your brother said he was going to have Sig and Izumi escort him here from Winry's. Whether they'll want to stay for dinner or not, I don't know."
"And Teacher's bad with texting," said Ed, rolling his eyes. "But could you text Al? He can ask them if they're eating with us. I just hope you bought plenty or we may be in trouble." About a minute later, Al messaged back to say that their foster parents had already eaten, and Ed breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm actually a little worried about introducing Izumi and your Aunt Chris to each other. It's not that I think they'd fight. The problem is that I think they'd get along – which is much, much worse."
"Agreed," said Roy with a little shudder. "Well, I'm going to go chat with Chris and keep Maes from burying her in pictures. Want me to put on some music?"
"Yes please," said Ed with an endearing blush as he tied on an apron.
"How about a little swing? It is Sunday, after all," said Roy and Ed grinned brightly enough to make Roy's heart do a little dance in his chest. "If you need any help, just give me a shout."
He entered the parlor to find Maes and Chris sorting through the information Chris had brought over. Given the sheer volume of information, Breda and Ed were going to be very busy for a while just entering everything into Ed's model. "So, tell me more about this angel of yours," said Chris in an undertone, the jerk of her head toward he kitchen indicating Edward. "I won't lie and say I wouldn't sell my left foot to have him for the bar. Even if he never worked upstairs and just spent all his time slinging drinks, he'd be a serious draw. Those eyes alone should be against the law. I've never seen anybody with eyes that color."
"And he's not just gorgeous, he's absolutely brilliant," said Roy, unable to keep the genuine smile from his face. "He's a genuine prodigy and can learn anything he decides to without breaking a sweat, but that's not really what makes him brilliant. It's actually a little hard to explain. For instance, the reason he studied martial arts wasn't because he wanted to get into fights. He studied martial arts because it was something that would require effort and perseverance in order to do it well. Everything else comes easily to him, but this was something he had to really work for. He learned to cook so that he could help his mother who had to work two jobs to take care of him and his brother. He works two jobs to support his brother through med school. He didn't just become a scientist out of passion for science – though he definitely has that in spades. He did it so he could fulfill a promise to his mother that he would make the world a better place. So, like I said, he's absolutely, astoundingly brilliant."
"Good Lord, Roy-boy, what's an angel like that doing hanging around with you?" snorted Chris and Roy smiled dryly.
"I ask myself that every day," Roy told her honestly.
"Awww, aren't you just sweet?" said Maes in a squishy baby voice as he pinched Roy's cheek.
"I hate you," said Roy with his best death glare.
"Aw, how can you hate me when I bring you such beautiful pictures of sunshiny cuteness?" said Maes, reaching into his pocket. Before he could quite get the pictures clear of their nest, a shoe flew through the air like a ninja star, smacking Maes in the forehead with a resounding thump.
"What'd I tell you about those pictures Hughes?" shouted Ed from the kitchen. Ed stomped into the parlor and retrieved his shoe with all the dignity that a man wearing only one shoe and an apron could muster.
"I thought you were putting on music," said Ed after shoving his foot back into his shoe. "Is something wrong with the record player? I can come fix it real quick if it's acting up."
"Oh, no, sorry love. I just got sidetracked. I'll do it now," said Roy, but Ed dismissed his apology with a wave of his hand before he disappeared back into the kitchen. Chris was laughing so hard that Roy feared she was about to fall out of her chair. He was fairly sure he'd never seen her laugh that hard in all the years he'd been with her. He decided to take it as a good sign.
"I had wondered why you'd dragged that old console player down from the attic," said Chris once she'd more or less regained control, eyeing the prehistoric record player over her shoulder. "I haven't seen it since I was a kid."
"Yeah, Ed and his brother Al have a thing for old music," Roy told her as he moved to the now neatly organized collection of vinyl. He pulled out a Benny Goodman record and got it started. "And Sunday is their one day off usually, so they set it aside for music, fun, and family. They made an exception today because of circumstances, but last Sunday we had a blast teaching Gracia and Elysia how to swing dance. Give it a minute then peek into the kitchen, and you'll see something really worth the price of admission."
They did just that, the three of them sneaking over to the doorway to watch Ed spin and sway, flipping food and utensils and even knives into the air with all the grace and style Roy had come to expect from Edward. They snuck away before they could start giggling like little school girls and returned to the parlor. "You see what I mean?" asked Roy with a broad grin. "I could seriously charge people good money just to watch Ed playing around in the kitchen."
The front door opened, startling them, and Alphonse entered followed closely by Winry, Sig, and Izumi. Winry ignored everybody else in the parlor and headed straight for the kitchen, leaving Al behind to apologize for her behavior. "You must be Roy's aunt," said Al, offering his hand with his signature sweetly polite smile. "I'm Alphonse, Edward's younger brother, but you can call me Al. The blonde girl that just rushed past was my girlfriend Winry, and this is Sig and Izumi Curtis, the people unfortunate enough to be stuck with the job of taking care of me and my brother." Chris got up and introduced herself in return, shaking hands with those who offered then resuming her seat.
Suddenly, a gold and black streak flew across the room and the next thing they knew, Ed was perched atop Sig's shoulders, hanging onto the massive man's head for dear life. A wrench flew after him, but landed just short. "Edward Elric, get back here you coward!" shouted Winry.
"Back off King Kong! You're not getting it! And I'm not coming down either. I'm not dumb enough to let you hit me over the head. Concussions don't make good appetizers!" Ed shouted back. Winry headed for Ed on his mountaintop perch, and Roy wondered for a second if she too was going to climb Sig like a tree. He never got to find out, though, because she was stopped by Al's icy warning tone.
"Winry, you promised," snapped Al. Winry tried to look pleading and contrite, but Al wasn't falling for it.
"But I-"
"No."
"I just wanted-"
"I said no."
"Just a-"
"Winry, I said no, and that's final," intoned Al ominously, and Winry finally deflated, huffing and muttering to herself about stingy brats.
"Hey Sig, how are you?" said Ed, looking down at head he was clinging to.
"Hello Edward. I'm well enough, how have you been?" replied Sig, and the pair of them honestly sounded as if there was nothing strange at all about having a petite blonde sitting on the huge man's shoulders and clinging to his head like a living hood. Apparently, this sort of thing was normal for them.
"You know. Same old, same old," answered Ed with a shrug. "Mind giving me a ride back into the kitchen? I don't trust Cheetah the Chimp over there to keep her mitts to herself."
"Sure, Ed," said Sig, with a deep rumble of laughter. He practically had to get on his knees to get through the doorway without running Ed face first into the lintel.
"So, will you be staying for dinner after all?" Roy asked Izumi, hanging onto his composure for dear life. He didn't want a wrench applied to his head any more than Ed did, so he wasn't going to risk Winry's wrath by laughing.
"No, they just came in to say hi," replied Al cheerfully. "I told them Ed is morphing into a raccoon, and they wanted to check on him. I guess he's doing all right if he's this energetic. Or has he reached critical mass on the caffeine consumption again?"
"I made him take a nap," Roy told him, and Al gave Roy a warm smile of gratitude.
"Good," said Izumi in her trademark decisive tone. "If he isn't minded, he'll keep working without sleep until he passes out."
"I'm not that bad!" protested Ed from the kitchen.
"Says the boy who fell asleep face first in his dinner because he didn't sleep for four days straight," snorted Izumi, unmoved.
"Hey! I was eight, and I was really close to a breakthrough!" retorted Ed.
"Which turned into a dead end, invalidating your argument," returned Izumi.
Ed entered the parlor, sans apron and with Sig right behind him. "I would like to reiterate that I was eight. And, anyway, I was still pretty new to quantum mechanics and I really thought I was onto something. That initial theory was the foundation for the thesis I wrote a couple years later, so technically the argument still holds true. Every great discovery in science is predicated on a single success landing on a cushion of a thousand failures. Since failures are the required stepping stones to reach success, a failure is a success by virtue of its necessity."
"You really do need sleep, kid," snorted Izumi and Ed sighed, rolling his eyes. "Either that or we need to keep you out of the philosophy section of the library."
"So I ran out of things to read during summer break. Sue me," mumbled Ed petulantly. Al laughed and hugged his brother's shoulders as if to comfort him.
"Regardless, you will be getting some sleep tonight Edward," commanded Izumi with a hard-eyed stare that pinned Ed in place. Then the stare pivoted to pin Al in turn. "You too Alphonse. I will call to check tomorrow that you've both done as you were told. If I have to come back, there will be consequences."
"Yes Teacher," chorused the boys ruefully.
Izumi hugged them, wrapping an arm around each boy then herded her husband out the door. Winry paused only long enough to give Al a hasty kiss, and to punch Ed's flesh arm, before hurrying out after them. "Well, this place has gotten pretty lively, hasn't it?" commented Chris with the wry smirk that was a perfect reflection of Roy's.
"One thing you can say for Brother is that having him around is never boring," teased Al, earning a punch in the arm from the brother in question. "How much longer until we eat, Brother? I'm starving."
"Probably about 30 minutes," answered Ed with a shrug. "I can put the cobbler in the oven as soon as the chicken comes out, so it'll be ready by the time we're done eating dinner. Are you eating with us Hughes? There should be enough."
"Thanks, Ed, but it's probably better if I head home so Gracia doesn't worry. Riza and Jean are already on their way to pick me up," said Maes with a fond smile.
"Well, while we still have some time, how about you fill me in on everything that's going on?" suggested Chris, the look on her face promising that they weren't going to get out of it no matter how much they squirmed. "Roy-boy only told me the bare minimum so that I knew what information you needed. But if this is even half as dangerous as I think it is, I want to know what our boy is getting himself into."
Ed blanched, guilt briefly rippling the surface of the determination in his luminous eyes. "It's a long story, and the beginning goes back pretty far, but Roy's involvement was never meant to be anything this deep. It all started as something so simple and then snowballed into the cluster fuck we now find ourselves in."
Slowly but surely, Ed laid out the whole miserable string of events for her. He started the story with his father leaving, since that seemed to be the true origin of their mess. He spoke of his mother's death only as a chronological point of reference, and as additional background for the shit storm that followed the essay he published. Whenever he tried to be evasive or vague about the events of that initial battle with the cronies of Ouroboros, Chris would cut through his dissembling with concise questions and a tone no man would dare disobey.
"After we changed our names and went into hiding, everything was quiet for years," finished Ed at last, looking wrung out and edgy. "We were able to finish high school and get most of the way through college without popping up on these assholes' radar. But then, Wrinkly McGrabass had to go and get fresh."
"I thought his name was Grabby McSleezeball," said Maes, a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth.
"My favorite was Douchy McDickless," snickered Al.
"I call him a lot of shit," shot back Ed irately. "I gotta go finish dinner. Roy and Maes know the rest of the story from there, and Al knows all the stuff from my side of it."
Ed disappeared into the kitchen, and Al let out a long sigh that almost sounded like relief. "This has been so hard on him. Brother hates this sort of sneaky warfare. He prefers enemies he can hit. He's perfectly capable of outwitting an opponent, but he's straightforward by nature, so it's hard for him to think around corners like this. I'm surprised he hasn't started tearing his hair out yet."
"He's got so much hair, it'd take us a while to notice if he did," snorted Roy and Al laughed.
"And anyway, we have no way of knowing whether he's genuinely grumpy or just being his usual disagreeable self," said Al with a rueful little chuckle. "He's known as everybody's favorite resting bitch face for a reason."
Maes began to explain to Aunt Chris what had led them to investigate the dean – their suspicion that the dean was stealing Ed's scholarship money in retaliation for Ed's reaction to the geezer grabbing his ass. Maes was able to tell a good portion of that part of the story, right up until Riza and Jean arrived and dragged him off – the pair offering only a tired greeting to those staying behind. Once Maes was gone, Roy picked up the tale where his friend had left off, going into a little more detail about how deeply rooted the corruption ran through the university.
Ed and Al's hacking talent had been enormously helpful in making those initial discoveries. Chris was fairly impressed by the Elric's ability to uncover the embezzlement and the dean's connection to Frank Archer. After that point, Al contributed to the story where necessary, answering questions about how he and Ed had obtained their information. Chris also agreed with them that, despite their precautions, it had been reporting the problem to Amestris's CEO that had tipped their hand to Archer, and ultimately to Ouroboros.
"And that's where the shit hit the fan," said Ed as he returned to them from the kitchen. "Fucking Heisenberg anyway."
"As in Heisenberg's uncertainty principle?" asked Al and Ed nodded. "The act of observance changes the object being observed or something like that."
"Close, but Heisenberg's principle is about more than just the relationship between observer and subject," corrected Ed, perching on the arm of the sofa. "Most people get it mixed up with the observer effect that notes that there are certain systems that can't be observed without the act of observation having an effect on that system. But Heisenberg's principle states that 'the more precisely the position is determined, the less precisely the momentum is known'. It's used to explain the inherent problems in observing the movement of particles on a quantum level, because you can't simultaneously measure both momentum and position without mathematical inequalities . . . but, anyway, it's not important. The point is that we were busy observing the position of the pieces, so we were unable to accurately note their movements on the board, and it just isn't possible to do both simultaneously – it'd be like trying to look left with one eye and right with the other. That's why I created the work groups the way I did. We have Roy and his group observing the position. We have Riza and her group observing momentum. That frees up me and my group to handle the analysis of the measurements and preparations for what comes after the observational stage."
"And what exactly does come after?" asked Chris with a sharply lifted eyebrow and deceptively lazy tone.
"I don't want to explain my plan until I have all the data I need," hedged Ed uncomfortably. "It's still in a more or less fluid state while I finish putting shit together and analyzing all the data that's coming in. Making any part of it too solid now might make it more difficult to change if the situation suddenly changes. But I can show you what the data is being used for and the progress of the rescue operation." He got up and went upstairs to the library, returning with his laptop and handing it to his brother. "Go ahead and unlock it. I need to go check on the food."
"Really, this reenactment model he's built is pretty ingenious, though the name doesn't make sense to me at all," Al told them as he opened the laptop and typed in the long password to unlock it. "He can explain it better than I can since I haven't seen the algorithm for myself, and he hasn't told me the details of the process, but basically, what he's done is create an algorithm which can take all of the thousands of data points and select the most probable location for the bad guys, along with all sorts of other things – how well-armed they are, how best to bypass their security, and our best entry and exit routes."
"I gave it that name because I was initially planning to use it to reenact the kidnapping itself so we could figure out where they'd taken Hohenheim," put in Ed as he returned yet again. "But then I figured out that I could use it both ways. In other words, I could use it to plan a kidnapping of our own. We can more easily identify where they won't look, routes they won't know to follow, and any factors they will have most likely overlooked, all based on quantifiable personal data and well-established precedent. It's hard to explain without a white board. Anyway, somebody go set the table please. Food's ready."
The food was delicious, just like always. Ed claimed that he'd learned how to cook in self-defense, since he ate so much. Al had told Roy the truth, though – Ed had learned to cook for their mother's sake. It had started on a whim while the boys had chicken pox. They couldn't leave the house, and they ran out of books to read pretty quickly. Al resorted to re-reading, but Ed started reading weird things like cookbooks and repair manuals. The rest, as they say, was history. His mom helped him through his first few kitchen forays, since he was still so young – and short, according to Al – but after their mom had bought Ed his very open stepping stool, he'd refused all help and insisted on doing it all on his own. Roy had no problem believing the story since it was so very characteristically Ed.
"This is incredibly good," said Chris as they sat in the parlor eating their dessert and listening to smooth jazz on the record player.
"Thanks," said Ed, an endearing blush lighting up his cheeks. "It was our mother's recipe."
"And I think mom said she got it from her mother," added Al. "Where we grew up we had mostly apple orchards, but in our back yard we had peaches, cherries, and plums too. In the autumn, before the first frost killed off the trees, we had to strip them bare of every last piece of fruit so nothing was wasted. We made all sorts of pies and cakes and cobblers and preserves. What we couldn't eat or preserve, we'd give away to neighbors or sell in town. Now, I'll forever associate autumn with the smell of pies baking. After mom started working so much that she didn't have time for baking anymore, Ed took over the tradition."
"Yeah, and every autumn we had to exercise with Teacher twice as much to keep from weighing 500lbs by Christmas," snorted Ed, and Al laughed, blushing. "I remember one year I had to forbid you from touching the pies because you were turning into a chunky monkey."
"I still say it's not fair that you've always eaten such a ludicrous amount and yet never gained a pound," said Al, disgusted. "I mean, you have an excuse now. The weight of the automail and the energy output necessary to make it move can take a toll – and we will be discussing the energy output later, Brother, because Winry told me how it really is, you jerk. Just getting out of bed is a workout. Even so, you were like this before the automail, you're just more so now. Even Teacher gets appalled with you sometimes."
"The only thing that appalls me is our grocery bill," said Ed dryly. "My wallet would be much happier if I could make do with normal portions of food."
"Next time you feel the urge to do some baking, make sure to send some goodies down to my bar. The girls will be thrilled to take them off your hands," said Chris, chuckling.
"Just let me know how much to make," said Ed with a dazzling grin. "I'm sure I can bribe Roy into being our delivery boy."
"Of course," said Chris with a wink, and she and Ed shared a warm laugh. "All right then, while we're on the topic of business, let's discuss the information I've brought. It would be best if you look through it and make sure this is what you'll need. I'd like to know now if I need to do any more digging."
Ed nodded and picked up the stack of papers and folders they'd left sitting out on the coffee table. He opened up his laptop and began typing as he went through the new data, simply inputting basic descriptions and attaching numbers as he went. He was likely waiting until later to categorize and sort the data properly, but from what Roy could tell, the numbers Ed was entering should give him an idea of whether or not additional data would be necessary.
"What is it you're typing over there?" asked Chris, leaning forward and to the side a bit to try to see what Ed was doing.
"I'm assigning numerical values to each piece of information, the numbers representing the category of the information and the info's level of importance to the decision-making process of the people involved in the kidnapping," explained Ed distractedly. "The model utilizes game theory, a sort of vector analysis, and my own gutted version of sabermetrics to predict movement for each involved party. There are a lot variables involved in human behavior, so I've created this algorithm to break it all down into probabilities by percentage of likelihood. Basically, I'm mathematically analyzing and predicting human behavior. For instance, let's say we have a group made up of three men. The algorithm will first determine who is the likeliest to be the most dominant personality in the group and how likely it is that his decisions will be influenced by the other members of the group and who's input will have the most influence. Then it determines what decisions are likeliest to be made by using the numerical values assigned to each piece of data –values which are determined by relevance to the decision-making process – and feeding those numbers into the massive equations hidden within the seemingly simple algorithm. Will he fight or will he flee? If he fights, will he be capable of killing or will be likelier to wound his targets? If he flees, will he head back to home base or will he go to ground and wait for instructions? How likely are the other two to obey, and how closely will they follow orders? It's actually extremely complicated, but what it all boils down to is that, once we hit the tipping point, we'll be able to figure out which of the hideouts that you've identified they'll have taken that asshole sperm donor to, and also how we should proceed to avoid getting shot during the rescue. Then, like Al said earlier, we'll be able to plot our course in and out of there so that we can get the asshole to safety – still without getting shot. I'm really insistent on the not getting shot, you see."
"Let me ask you this," began Chris, shrewd calculation gleaming in her eyes. "How hard would this little model of yours be to use for somebody who isn't a mathematician or scientist?"
"Not too terribly hard, with a little training," replied Ed with a shrug. "The model is programmed to do the actual math parts. And the data it outputs is plotted on maps and lists in plain English, so it's not like you need a nerd-to-laymen translator to figure out the results."
"Interesting," said Chris, one manicured nail tapping her chin. "Normally, the going rate for the sort of information I've been giving you guys ain't cheap. Even family only gets so much of a discount because getting the information requires the greasing of palms and monetary conscience-soothing. I'd go out of business if I let that sort of expense slide."
"I figured as much," said Ed, not the least bit offended. In fact, the wry little half-smile he gave her could almost be called affectionate.
"But, I like you kid, so I'll make you a deal," said Chris, her smirk just as fond as Ed's. "If you can give me a copy of that model of yours, I'll call us even. I'm not asking for the copyright or patent, or whatever it is you crazy scientists prefer to own. I just want free access and the training to use it. What you get in exchange is all the information I've already given you, as well as whatever else you need to make this little rescue operation succeed. If the model proves to be as profitable to me as I think it will be, I'll be willing to slide you other favors later down the line. All within reason, of course. What do you say?"
Ed looked her in the eye, the full focus of his intensity almost overwhelming even Chris Mustang's indomitable calm. After what seemed like hours compressed into the space of a minute, Ed nodded, a grin breaking out on his face. "I think we have a deal then. The only addendum I'll add is that if any legal agency finds you in possession of this model, you didn't get it from me. But, I can add a failsafe to it so it can self-immolate if a situation like that arises. I'll leave it up to you."
"Makes sense," ceded Chris. "You have a reputation as a respected scientist. We wouldn't want legal troubles to tarnish that."
"Well, I'm more worried about legal troubles causing trouble for my little brother than for me. He's going into medicine, and in that field reputation is everything," said Ed, cutting a quick glance toward Al. "I already have a reputation as an asshole and a rebel. Nobody is going to care if I get into some dirty dealings. But I have to protect Al, at all costs."
"Admirable," said Chris with a nod. "We'll talk more later about that failsafe you mentioned then. I might even make a second deal if you can put that sort of failsafe on all the computers we use for the bar's business."
"I'd be happy to hook you up," said Ed with that bold, devil-may-care grin of his. "Also, I won't have time to hand the model over and train someone in its use until this whole Ouroboros nightmare is settled, but I can do it first thing afterwards. We'll handle that transaction when I come to work on your computer security. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect," said Chris, all but buzzing with extremely well-hidden excitement. "Kid, I think this if going to be the start of a beautiful friendship." They all laughed a bit at the bad Bogart impression, Chris laughing along with them. "Ed, Al, it was pleasure meeting the both of you. If you're ever looking for a drink and some good music, feel free to check us out anytime. Bring some of those pies of yours and we'll let you drink on the house. Come on Roy, you can walk me out." Roy got up, setting their bowls aside, and followed his Aunt Chris to the foyer, already knowing she was pulling him aside for a quick word. "Roy-boy, you've gotten yourself into some very heavy shit here," she said quietly enough that nobody would be able to hear them from the parlor.
"I know," admitted Roy simply, lifting his chin to a defiant angle though his smirk didn't budge an inch.
"Normally I'd tell you to get out while the getting's good," said Chris as Roy helped her into her coat. "We're the only family we've got. I don't want anything to happen to you. But, I think in this case, I'll make an exception. That's a good kid you've got in there. Keep him safe, or you'll have me to answer to." Roy's jaw dropped while at the same time he felt the irrational urge to laugh. Had his own family really just given him the shovel speech on behalf of his lover? Wasn't she supposed to threaten the lover on his behalf? "Take care of yourself too, Roy. Don't overdo it and stick your neck out too far. I think it'd break that boy's heart if something happened to you." She patted him on the cheek with a fond little smile. "Keep in touch."
