"Nice place," Ed drawled as they strolled into the lobby, glancing around appreciatively at the marble tile, the trees, the small fountain splashing away and glittering in the light that the ceiling-high windows let in. Not that Roy disagreed—there was a reason he had rented in this building, after all—but he couldn't help feeling like Ed was taking it in as what would be of service to him, which made him perhaps unreasonably wary. But as Ed's expression softened with a faraway look, a murmur of, "I like fountains," he suddenly felt himself slipping off-balance again. For a moment, just a moment, Roy didn't have a difficult time whatsoever believing that Ed was as he claimed—

And then he was right back to being a piece of shit kid again.

"Top floor? Seems fancy as fuck." His words drew a glare from a well-dressed man also in the elevator, and Roy closed his eyes momentarily.

"Why?" he asked with a tired sigh. "Do you have a fascination with being farther away from the ground? Seeing as it isn't exactly an opportunity in your everyday life."

Ed's expression immediately turned ugly. "Hey, now you listen the fuck—"

"Don't talk," Roy interrupted swiftly, and Ed immediately choked off with an odd, croaking squeak. Roy couldn't stop his smirk at the outrageously offended look on Ed's face. When it shifted from that to something more calculating and crafty, and Ed opened his mouth again, he amended, "Or make noises. With your mouth. Vocally."

Ed closed his mouth, glaring mutinously, and the man with them in the elevator stepped out quickly as it stopped on the third floor. Roy waited until the doors sealed shut to say, "You can talk again."

"Okay, seriously, the fuck is your problem? You can't just—"

"Isn't the point of this entire mess is that I can just?" Roy breaks in with an irritated sigh. "If you're going to insist on following me around, especially to my place of employment, then you have to watch your language, and if the only way to make that happen is to order you to do so, then so be it."

Ed glares at Roy out of the corner of his eye. "Y'know, I could choose to take that literally."

"Please don't." It was far, far too early for Roy to have the beginnings of a pounding headache, but here they were.

"Well fine then," Ed grumbled, and Roy really didn't feel too terribly bad about the sulky expression on his face.

They stepped out of the elevator, and Roy pushed open the frosted glass door with his name on it: "Mustang, Attorney at Law."*

Riza was the first to glance through as they walked in, followed by a quick glance at the clock—whose second hand had just ticked onto the twelve. So he wasn't technically late. "Impressive, sir," she murmured, and though it seemed innocuous enough, the heavy irony in her voice was blatant enough that even Ed picked up on it, judging by his snort.

"And who's this?" she continued, critical gaze settling onto Ed. Roy thought, for just a moment, that even he would be just a little cowed by it, but when he looked over, the same damned shit-eating grin was still there, and—was it even bigger, now?

"I'm—"

"It's a long story, Riza," Roy interrupted smoothly, though he couldn't help wondering exactly what Ed had been about to say. Nightmares flashed through his mind for a moment, and ironically enough, Ed telling her the truth was not one of them. "I'll explain later. Do you have the brief for the Bradley case? I think I had a breakthrough last night."

"Good; we need one." Heymans walked through the door to the back, handing a folder over. Roy thanked him as he accepted it, but didn't miss the meaningful look that he shot Ed. He decided that it would be for the best if he ignored it, for now. "Don't suppose you're willing to share?"

Roy smiled wryly. "If it works? Absolutely. Until then." He paused, glancing around, frowning at the sight of Riza behind the receptionist's desk. "Wait, where's Sheska?"

"Training the new intern," Heymans offered, holding the door open as Roy walked through to the offices. "Mail and paperwork's getting a bit much for just the one person to handle. And really, do you want anyone else behind the desk?"

Roy's thoughts cycled through the images of Kain, Vato, and Jean being the first to greet clients—and after the third option, quickly put it out of his mind. "Point taken." He paused, then frowned as he heard a thump from behind the closed door of the file room. "Wait, who thought it was a good idea to have Sheska train the intern?"

Heymans was spared from having to answer as Jean practically tripped out of the paralegals' office, looking slightly harried. As Heymans caught him, Roy couldn't help but notice that he appeared to have a busted lip, but before he could ask, Jean saw the three of them, straightened, frowned in confusion, then asked, "Who's the fucking kid?"

Heymans's eyes cut over to Ed, and Roy didn't have to be a canny lawyer to pick up on the fact that Jean had blurted out the question that Heymans had been dying to ask.

Nor did he miss the absolutely betrayed look that Ed shot him at Jean's profanity. He sighed, but before he could say anything, he heard an irritated voice coming from the office Jean had just left.

"It's the new intern, Jean, we've told you. You've met her. You can't possibly be that indiscriminate towards women."

Roy's eyebrows shot up at the words; to hear Kain, of all people, saying something like that, meant that something was very, very wrong. A quick glance at Heymans and even Ed showed that their reactions were similar.

"No," Jean snapped, glaring back through the doorway, voice almost as irritated but also with a small tinge of guilt in it. "It's another one—a guy. Here with the boss."

A long pause from inside the office, then Roy could hear a chair being pushed back and Kain scrambling to the door. "And it's a lucky thing it is," he called, brow furrowed, eyeing Kain critically when his head appeared around the door frame. "That kind of talk could very easily make someone uncomfortable. I allow a large amount of leeway here, but you need to be respectful of newcomers, especially an intern."

He glanced between Jean, who was determinedly not looking at either Kain or Roy, and Kain, who had visibly wilted of embarrassment at the rebuke. "Do I need to speak with either of you about this?" The pounding in his head was rapidly growing more threateningly painful.

"No, sir," both of them mumbled, though they still didn't look at each other. Something to keep an eye on, then, before things escalated out of control.

"Good. Sort it out." He stepped past them, ignoring the glances they were still shooting Ed, and headed to his office. Once Ed had entered, he closed the door, but it was only a few moments before a knock sounded on it.

Thankfully, it was only Vato, who handed him some more papers before giving Ed an odd look. He didn't ask, though, just walked off, and Roy made a mental note to remember that when raise time came around as he locked the door.

"That's kinda suspicious," Ed murmured, raising an eyebrow with a half-mocking, half-annoyed look. "Should I be worried? Y'know, given that you've already shown that you'll be plenty unfair—"

"Fine!" Roy snapped, slapping the folder and the rest of his paperwork onto his desk with a force that was probably not quite necessary. "Watch your language and make sure it is appropriate for the situation. In public. Around children. And if it goes overboard—"

"It won't, okay!" Ed's voice was rather close to a whine now, and Roy cracked the knuckles on his left hand, running his thumb over the fingers, but that was good enough.

"Fine. We're dropping it, then."

"Fine." Ed scowled, glancing around, and flopped back into the chair across from Roy's desk, arms crossed.

And then, Roy heard a very definite muttered, "Dictator."

Roy took a deep breath. His headache was getting worse. But maybe—

"Make this headache stop." He paused for a moment, then added, "please."

Ed glanced over at him. Roy could feel the tension in his shoulders ease as the pain instantly bled away, leaving him feeling a little more refreshed—and a little more able to take on the approximate clusterfuck that had been dumped into his lap this morning.

First things first.

"So," he began, glancing down at the papers on his desk and sorting them into piles. "As you may guess, I have plenty of questions about this... arrangement. And it is an arrangement, it seems, correct?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ed shrug. "Yeah, I guess if you want to put it that way."

"So, is there a particular reason that you've chosen me, out of everyone else in the world?"

Ed snorted. "I didn't choose you. I don't choose, period."

"So what does?" He frowned slightly and picked up a letter from another case that had gotten mixed in with the Bradley case paperwork, setting it aside.

"Can't tell you that."

Roy's hands stilled, and he looked up. "Can't, or won't?"

"Can't," Ed repeated, golden eyes locked on Roy's. "Part of the rules."

Roy watched Ed for a moment, thinking. If he was going to be thrust into such a ridiculous situation, he should at least get a bearing on the situation. An overview of the case, so to speak.

"Can you tell me these rules?"

"Some of 'em."

Roy sent up a wish for patience—internally—and rolled his eyes. "I wish for you to tell me the rules."

He didn't miss the slight smirk on Ed's face at the words, and he narrowed his eyes. He would have to get clarification on the verbiage required, too.

"There are a lot of 'em. Just a heads up."

"Then start. I'll ask for clarification as you continue."

"Fine." Ed grimaced. "I'm bound to you. No one else. No limits on the number of wishes as long as I am. I can't hurt you, or kill you, or anything." He smirked a little, and Roy held up a hand.

"Stop. Can you lie to me?"

Ed's smirk vanished and his expression turned into something decidedly sulkier. "Yeah. I mean, unless you fuckin' tell me to tell you somethin' specifically."

"So you can't lie to me about these rules," Roy mused, eyeing Ed. "In that case..." He paused, thinking, going over his previous interactions—and granted wishes—with Ed in his mind. There was only the one common factor between the majority. "Answer my questions without lying."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Fine! Can't you fuckin' trust a guy? You're so suspicious."

"I'm a defense attorney," Roy shot back dryly. "I don't trust anyone. Now. Earlier, when I wished to make it to work on time, you told me that I had to word it, specifically, as a wish. But for almost everything else, I haven't needed to. Why?"

"Because I have to obey direct orders." Ed's reply was immediate. "You don't really gotta wish for somethin' for me to grant it."

"Then why did you require it the first time?"

Ed shrugged, smirking a little again. "'Cause you sound fuckin' ridiculous when you do say it."

Roy was definitely not biting back a smile as he stifled down equal parts amusement and annoyance. Wonderful.

"Direct orders. All right. Is—"

A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he had to stop speaking to process it entirely. It was—crazy, yes, and there would be so much to consider and resolve, but if Ed could—

He looked up again, gaze intent, trying to squash the bubble of hope suddenly rising in his chest, but unable to. "What can't you do?"

"Good question. Not much." Ed lifted a finger. "Can't make someone fall in love with or wanna have sex with you." He lifted a second. "No bringin' people back from the dead."

The bubble burst, leaving Roy with a sick sensation of sorrow and disappointment. So much for that. But maybe—

Ed didn't even notice as he continued, lifting a third finger. "Generally can't fuck with time, not if changing it would have any kinda significant effect on the world. Future stuff is weirder. We'll talk if you wanna try time traveling."

And his second hope was gone as well.

"I also can't tell you some shit—and no, I can't tell you what I can't tell you, and it's probably all gonna seem fuckin' arbitrary, but that's how these things work. Some stuff I can tell you, but only after you go and figure other stuff out."

"Thank you for clarifying."

Ed rolled his eyes at the irony coating Roy's voice. "Hey, I don't make the rules. They're just there."

"And who did make them?"

Ed simply watched Roy, who sighed. "Point taken. Is there anything you can tell me?"

"Yeah." When Roy blinked in surprise, Ed shrugged. "I'm usually good for yes or no questions, but can't guarantee that. But when you figure somethin' out, sometimes I can tell you more that I couldn't before, if you ask."

Roy sighed again, propping his elbows on his desk and his chin in his hands, papers all but forgotten, thinking. "And, am I correct in assuming that these questions you can't answer are all related to your origin?" Upon seeing Ed hesitate, he quickly, amended, "or your… how you operate." He winced; there was surely a better term for that, but the word escaped him at the moment.

"Yeah." Ed shook his head at the word, but he seemed more exasperated than actually irritated. "Basically that."

"Fine. Can you tell me why you picked me?"

"I didn't."

"Then can you tell me why you're… attached to me, instead of someone else?"

Ed hesitated, grimacing, and Roy closed his eyes, wishing, again, for patience.

"What can you tell me about why you're attached to me."

Ed relaxed a little at that, which was… interesting, but something to consider for another time. "It's random. 'Least, as far as I can tell, why you people end up with…" He hesitated again. "...Me."

"And how does that happen, you just… vanish from one person—"

"Master," Ed interrupted, and Roy grimaced. "Yeah, I hate the word too, but that's how it is."

Roy took a deep breath. "Fine, then. Do you just vanish from one person and end up with another?"

Ed shook his head, a curious tilt to it as he watched Roy. Roy felt almost as if he were being evaluated, and he narrowed his eyes, trying to read between the lines, suss out the situation. Genie. When anyone thought genie, they thought… a lamp. Well, Roy owned lamps, but nothing that he hadn't owned for years, certainly. Still…

"So in the movie, Aladdin, the genie was bound to a lamp. Are you?"

Ed shook his head, but his eyes lit up. So no lamp, then, but—

"Are you bound to an object? Something that recently came into my possession."

Ed's eyes brightened even further, satisfaction written in every inch of his expression. "There you fuckin' go, Mustang." He sounded proud, despite himself, and Roy allowed him to bask in the brief moments of approval before returning to the problem at hand.

Namely, that he still had no idea what it was.

"And I suppose you can't tell me what it is," Roy sighed, watching Ed cross his arms and settle further into the chair, which had turned into something considerably cushier and more comfortable than what it had been before.

"Nope," Ed replied, almost cheerfully, watching Roy. Roy barely noticed—he was busy trying to catalogue anything he had obtained recently, and absolutely nothing came to mind.

"Is it anything related to this legal brief?" Roy muttered, flicking at the papers. "Or related to my job?"

At Ed's shake of the head, Roy sighed—he was doing a lot of that lately—and leaned back in his chair. "Fine. New line of questioning. You said that you'd be with me unless I was irresponsible, right? What's that mean?"

"Now, that's a good fuckin' question, and one I still can't answer completely, but I'm gonna damn well try. As far as I can tell, it seems t'be like—okay, look, I can't do shit to stop you from tellin' someone, and that's fine, whatever. Or a couple people. But if they start tellin' people too, and they tell more people, well, then one day I'll probably just vanish. The people who made us didn't really like us bein' publicized, yeah?"

"Us?" Roy's head jerked upright. "There are more of you?"

"Fuck yeah, there are. Or were. Lot of 'em are dead now."

"So you can be killed. Not by old age, I'm assuming. Sick? Can you get sick, or injured?"

"Not me, I can't."

"What about the object, whatever it is, that you're bound to?"

Ed just smirked, and though he didn't say anything, his expression was clear approval.

"Well, I certainly don't want to do that. Where are they?"

"Fuck if I know. They didn't exactly want us socializing." Ed's eyes turned dark for a moment, closer to a honey color than an amber.

They. Us. Roy watched Ed, eyes narrowed, piecing together clues in his mind. Ed clearly didn't need Roy's permission to use whatever magic he might have.

"So, you can't cause me harm. But if we ran into another of your kind, they could?"

Ed lifted his chin, staring at the ceiling, not answering the one, either. But once again, the impressed-despite-himself expression on his face told Roy all he needed to know.

Roy filed the knowledge away in a corner of his mind, for pondering later. The existence of other genies was… interesting, to say the least, and if those rules were all in the same place, he supposed that explained why it wasn't exactly common knowledge.

"And what if, say, I wished to become president? Ruler of the world? Or even wipe a country off the map?"

Ed's languid posture was gone in a flash as he jerked his gaze back to Roy and visibly recoiled, the wheels on the chair—which, Roy noted in the back of his mind, had not been wheeled before—skidding back across the carpet. The vicious glare Ed leveled in his direction left him lifting his hands defensively.

"Calm down. I'm not going to do that. It was just hypothetical."

Ed watched him warily for another moment, eyes narrowed, then slowly started to relax. "Let's just fuckin' say that most people, the kind of people, who would do somethin' that big would lose me first, or not get their hands on me in the first place."

Roy knew he could push for more, but elected to drop it for the time being.

"So, is whatever… object it is, that binds you to me, is it sentient?"

Ed was still glaring, but shrugged, looking a little comforted at the subject change. "Don't think so. Was never really sure. Kinda think it might be, sorta, but… not in the way that you or me think about it. And that's all I'm gonna say about it."

Roy had acquired a pen at some point, and was now rapping it on the back of his left ring finger in thought. "Are there any catches to any of this? Be careful what you wish for sort of thing?"

"Not really, no. There doesn't really have to be. I mean, I could make it that way, but I'd be the one who'd end up fucked over because of it. And please, don't ask," Ed finished quickly when he saw the look on Roy's face.

"Fine. I won't, for now. Provided," Roy continued, pointing the pen at Ed, "that you change. A hoodie and those jeans are absolutely unacceptable at my firm. Put on something more appropriate."

Ed rolled his eyes—Roy wondered for a moment if being immortal kept them from popping out of his head, with how often he did that—and then, for just the briefest of moments, Ed was absolutely, stark nude in Roy's office chair. Before Roy's face could even finish flushing, let alone get out a snapped order, Ed was in slacks, a button down, and a suit and tie that Roy could see were probably worth more than the monthly rent on this location.

"Don't—How old are you, anyway!" Roy snaps, clutching his head in one hand, trying to force himself to return to a normal color. As far as retorts go it isn't the strongest, but right now he can't think of much else besides that—that—terrifying and awful mental image.

"Three hundred fifty-two thousand, forty-one years."

No. Absolutely not. Ed could not be serious. Except he probably was, and that opened an entirely new can of worms that he was far too busy to deal with right now.

"Right. So, I'll need your help on this case. I'm representing a woman who is married to a crime lord that was recently arrested. I'm not even touching his trial—the man is a scumbag—but she claims to know nothing of any of his activities. However, the prosecutor's office is pushing for charges." And Olivier Armstrong, he knew, would stop at nothing to make sure they stuck.

"And what d'you need me for?"

Roy resumed tapping the pen against his finger, glancing down at the brief, the statements, the transcripts. His gaze slid to the number on the sheet at the top of the file.

"I'm going to make a few calls. Make sure that everyone on the other end of the phone is telling the truth for the duration of their conversation with me."

He glanced up to see that Ed was watching him consideringly. Like maybe Roy might have some depth to him that he hadn't previously expected.

"Whatever you say, boss."

—

"So, after several calls, I have made a few discoveries." Roy glanced across the expectant faces of his staff, pausing for effect, then grinning. "Not only am I now positive that Mrs. Bradley has been completely honest with us, but I believe I have a few witnesses willing to testify to the efforts her husband made to keep the wool over her eyes, in addition to several very compelling reasons for him to have done so. It isn't a won case yet, but I believe that, if these leads pan out, it will be.

There was a small cheer from the assembled group. Heymans and Jean high-fived, and Kain's beam was even brighter than the fluorescent lights. Anna, the new intern, looked a little puzzled, but it was only her first day—she would learn.

"And, in addition, I have another announcement to make." He stepped aside and gestured behind him, where Ed lifted a hand and waved.

"Yo."

"This is Edward Elric."

"Call me Ed."

"This is Ed, then. He's a law student who has been tasked to shadow a partner in a law firm for a project this semester. I have generously offered my assistance. Feel free, however, to tell me if he gets underfoot. He shouldn't, but just in case."

He couldn't suppress a smirk as Ed struggled to contain his glare. Sheska and the intern, at least, managed to defuse the situation slightly by introducing themselves, but the others looked at them both a bit askance until Riza took the lead.

"Riza Hawkeye. I'm an associate here."

"Pleased t'meet you." Apparently Ed could have manners when he truly tried.

He went down the line then, introducing himself to the three paralegals and Vato, but they all kept glancing uncertainly between him and Roy.

Except for Riza, who kept eyeing Roy with a critical look that had him hightailing back to his office as soon as they were finished.

"I have no idea what that was about," Roy muttered as he sat in his chair again, glancing at the door uncertainly. But when he looked back at Ed, who had taken his seat in the now extremely comfortable-looking chair, he narrowed his eyes.

"What's that smirk for?"

Ed shrugged. "Oh, nothin'. Just, y'know I was wearing something completely different when I walked in here today, right?"

Roy stared at Ed for several moments, the high from the step forward in his case crumbling under the realization. With a soft groan, he leaned forward until his forehead thunked onto the papers spread across his desk.

Concerned. It definitely should have been concerned.