A/N: I wish I had the capacity to describe how much your reviews mean to me. They seriously brighten my life especially times like now when things are a bit stressful. I'm sorry for how long this chapter took. I originally started this story while visiting family in a very isolated area of MO. It was a lot easier to get into the zone while listening to wind pull at a tin roof, rather than here in lukewarm, always intoxicated New Orleans. It really doesn't help that my boyfriend lives above a 24 hr bar. XD My research for this story is really turning into an obsessive sickness. I bought a Belgian Greatcoat at a military surplus story and several WWI and II era photos that are sitting above my desk.

Note: I could really use a beta if someone was interested. :luffles?:

Warnings: Some mentioning of adult things like snoo-snoo.

Chapter 4

He dreamt of apple pie, warm filling spreading slowly on the plate. The creamy vanilla ice cream melting into the golden juice of apple, speckled with cinnamon. Al and Winry were laughing as the smooth sunlight gave the air the quality of clean lemons. His mouth watered as he filled it with spoonful after spoonful of the sickeningly sweet substance. Winry sat and smiled, Pinako beside her. And Al, Al was eating too, shoveling the spoonfuls past his very human lips. Wind came in and lifted the stray hairs on the back of his neck.

They'd won. Al's body was back. Ed didn't even care his arm and leg weren't returned to him. He could hold his brother in his arms again. The breeze came through again, warm, damp, and rhythmic on his neck.

Then consciousness came back to him, cold crawling through the sheets to nibble at his fingers. Roy seemed to be a continuous presence of warmth during the rainy, dark nights. Sighing he curled the Colonel's fingers with his metal ones, pulling the hand to his heart, waiting for sleep to claim him again.

Brass called, finally wanting to do something about the mucky No Man's Land of the trenches that stretched between their meager camp and wilderness filled enemy territory. Edward volunteered to lead the team, his youthful impulsiveness rearing it's head for the first time in months. For his briefing Edward shaved, finally opening the paper and twine package that Roy had given him. He had insisted that Edward accept it as a gift upon reaching manhood. He swore he could see a glimmer of Roy's old smile cross his lips as he walked into the heated ten. It was a grin of victory as he took in Edward's smooth cheeks, neat uniform and polished boots. Edward was finally heeling at the side of military.

He flexed his cold hand, pressing it closely to the small of his back for warmth as he stood at ease. Roy's gaze warmed him with it's intensity, and his smirk practically crackled with energy.

"You should be happy, Fullmetal. It's not often that one allows a Major, nonetheless a famous state alchemist, to trivialize himself with a simple terrestrial reconnaissance mission. Roy tented his fingers, elbows propped on the simple flimsy desk.

"Then they're stupid for not sending an expert on geology, especially in these mountains, alchemic resources are more important than ever. You should, know that Colonel." Edward tried to fix his eyes squarely three inches above Roy's glossy black hair. He was always intrigued as to why it see it seemed to reflect blue in the proper light. Roy made a soft noncommittal sound and squinted down at the papers before him in the dim light. His tapering fingers felt at his breast pocket briefly before pulling out a battered pair of reading glasses.

"Now I'm sure you're familiar with the basic idea. This is to be a basic area reconnaissance mission, taking in stock possible obstructions for our vehicles, resources for a new camp location, and the location of any enemy encampments. You are not to approach anyone you come across. Your area of exploration is to the limit of our Area of Operation. You findings will be reported to the FSCL and used in future combat so their accuracy is critical. You will be assigned one platoon and have the support of the three Sergeants with you. Do you understand?"

Edward's stomach lurched as his heels clicked with his salute. His fingertips snapped to his temple as Roy quirked his eyebrow.

"Yes, Sir," he chimed to Roy's silence.

"Is something the matter, Fullmetal?"

"No, Sir." Again, Roy was silent, motioning like he wished to rise and move about the desk. Ultimately, he didn't, and just sighed, the dark mass of his coat rising and falling.

"You will leave at sunrise tomorrow from the North Point of camp. At ease, Major." Roy looked away as Edward's arms back to the small of his back again, focused squarely on some sort of map spreading over its surface. The blonde bit his lip, already missing the heat of his gaze.

Edward walked the grounds as the sun fell, silently saying good bye to the grounds that had become home. He knew he would be back in a week, but could tell it would feel like forever. He passed two of his subordinates on their way to the fire run. The tips of their bayonets glinted in the fading light. Lately the camp seemed to come to life as the rains finally began to cease, allowing the grounds to finally firm up. In the dimness of dusk the tents became blurs of grey spotted by lanterns. The rec tent seemed to always be lit now, the men gathered in their familiar groups, regular as clockwork. His games of Xenotime Spit had much to his surprise become a regular activity, though his conversation with the other boys always remained uncharacteristically formal and professional. Beneath the tent he saw Specialist Connely's shaggy brown head crouched over a bored. Three other men also participated. Their laughter was low and suspicious. Edward attempted to stride over to them with purpose.

"Evening," he started and four pairs of eyes met his with laughter.

"Major Elric! Look was Connely got from his brother!" One jeered with excitement. What was spread before them was certainly not any card game he had seen. Soft almond eyes peered up at him from the magazine, arched coyly over the girl's shoulder. She was almost entirely bare, save for the small piece of cloth draped down her slender back and pooling on her ample bottom. He noted briefly that she appeared to be exposing herself somewhere ludicrous like a field. Her breasts were entrancingly pert. His mouth was completely dry as he tried to channel his inner Roy.

"Specialist, such material should remain in your private quarters and definitely should not be being shown to your superior," he clipped. Edward swallowed hard as his fingers closed over the magazine, the woman's face crumbled under his fingers tips, the breasts that were soft to the touch in his mind became flimsy paper. "Next time, show a little discretion." He turned quickly, face on fire and feeling his blood rapidly pooling elsewhere. The magazine was quickly secreted away into the breast of his uniform as his hands shook with an unexpected energy that seemed to flood him like alchemy.

He clenched it so hard the paper tore as he sat on the edge of his bed. Their bedroom eyes looked back up at him while sweated beaded on his forehead and ran down his neck. An automail hand fumbled with his belt. His eyes kept darting anxiously from their breasts and their legs to the dim seam of the tent door and he groaned as he finally wrapped a warm gloved hand around himself, pulling hard. He imagined his lips on their flesh, tasting the salt and the slickness of their mouths. He'd never held someone like this in his arms, only his dreams. Like his dreams he could always feel a warm breath on his neck and a stroke of a heavy hand on his thigh. Even when the bastard wasn't there, he filled his thoughts.