Well, it's been almost a year, and I've totally lost this story. It was going pretty much downhill anyway. I think it's time to finish it off once and for all.

The wedding

Roy adjusted his tiny white skirt, wincing as the motion threatened to open the still not-quite-healed bullet wound.

The person responsible had been arrested and was currently on trial. He seemed to have been a lone extremist – therefore every single terrorist organization known to the military had claimed responsibility for his actions.

As soon as everything had been cleared up, Al had insisted on setting the date of the wedding – for as soon as was humanely possible. Thus, Roy's current attire.

His tiny white skirt was invisible under all the frills, and his dress shirt was made of silk. Roy had refused to wear high-heels, instead finding a pair of new, white, military style boots from somewhere. All in all, the strangest looking bride the world had ever seen.

Winry took the opportunity just then to add her finishing touch – a thin veil secured with an elegant tiara. Roy scowled at her. "Must I wear this thing?" he whined.

Winry flashed a wrench threateningly. She had warmed to the man, as Al's husband-to-be, greatly. That did not, however, mean she was going to cut him any slack.

Putting the wrench away again as the faint sound of a bridal march began to drift into the room, she pushed him towards the door. "Al's waiting" she muttered.

Roy nodded at her, then almost ran out of the room. Pausing at the aisle, he stared at Al. Damn, he couldn't wait to get that tuxedo off of him when the ceremony was finally over. Riza coughed discreetly, obvious a warning to get a move on before she pulled out her guns.

Roy took the hint. Moving forward, finally reaching the alter, his eyes locked with Al's, remaining that way as he half-listened to the ceremony taking place. Finally, they reached the part where the priest requested for anybody who protested to the union to come forward, or forever hold their peace. Roy tore his eyes away from Al's, scanning the guests nervously. Looking at Ed in particular, he was relieved to see the Fuhrer wasn't even paying attention, and was instead playing with the twins, the picture of a doting uncle. He was even letting Elizabeth gnaw with slobbery gums on the end of his braid.

As soon as the priest was satisfied that there was no objection to this strange union, he nodded. "You may now kiss the… ah… bride" he finished.

Roy lifted his veil, and proceeded to molest Al on the alter.

Hughes hung from strings somewhere around ceiling level, cackling with glee and working on his fifth heavenly roll of film.

Well, it's finished, hope it didn't suck too much. At least I didn't end up killing the lot of them