Disclaimer: Don't own FMA.
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And a special thank-you to Bizzy for helping me with the funniest part of this chapter. Love!
Chapter One
Arrangements had been made, and Mustang and Hawkeye were left to waiting at the inn for two days, waiting for the next train back to Central. Riza was just coming out of the bathroom, robe-clad and ruffling her hair dry with a towel, when a distant clash of thunder signaled the coming storm. She shivered a little, frowning at the man sitting on her bed.
"Sir?"
Roy looked up, before quickly averting his gaze. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I'll . . ." he started getting up, gathering his uniform jacket from the chair. "I shouldn't have."
"No, it's fine," she said, holding the top of her robe closed. "Is there something wrong, sir?"
"The storm," he said absently, one hand gesturing vaguely toward the window. "I'll, ah," and he turned around, hand waving a little as he was unable to find words.
She quickly found her pajamas and returned to the bathroom to change. When she padded back into the main room, she found him once more sitting on the edge of her bed, tugging the top buttons of his shirt open. She took the opportunity to fold her uniform and tuck it away in her suitcase, stealing furtive glances in his direction. She finally settled down beside him, one leg tucked under herself, content with their companionable silence.
"I don't like doing this," he said finally.
"Neither do I," she admitted, pulling both feet up onto the bed. "Those poor boys."
He nodded.
The thunder got louder and she stiffened, hand shooting to the spot on her thigh usually occupied by a holster. He reached over and laid a hand on her wrist, feeling her tense muscles relax at the contact. "It bothers you too, doesn't it?"
She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself, clearly a little uncomfortable with the subject. "It's just too soon."
"The war's changed us all," he said quietly.
"I just can't sleep with thunder anymore. I can't even relax. I'm not afraid, it's just-" A clash of thunder interrupted her and she flinched, reaching for the nonexistent gun again.
His fingers reached up briefly to brush over her hair, slipping between the short strands. "At least you're not useless in the rain."
She offered him a sad smile and pulled her sleeves over her fingers.
He cleared his throat a little, withdrawing his hand, eyes focused on his lap. "Oh, I'm sorry for intruding, I just-"
"I understand. I don't like being alone, either."
They fell into silence, listening as the storm continued to crash down around them. Riza reached over and grabbed her book from the nightstand. "You're welcome to stay here until the storm's over, sir." And with that, she curled up under the covers with her newest romance novel, eagerly opening to the first page, and Roy moved to sit in a chair nearby, both content simply not to be alone while they waited out the storm.
Two days later they were at the train station, the two young boys embracing their childhood friend tightly.
"We'll send word as soon as we reach Central," Roy assured Pinako, handing her a contact card. "Call if you need anything. Anything at all."
The woman nodded and pocketed the information. "Thank you."
The goodbyes continued for some time, little Winry sniffling into Ed's shoulder as he and his brother sandwiched her between themselves.
"Don't worry," Riza spoke, one hand finding its way to Al's shoulder. "They're in good hands."
"I don't doubt that for a moment." The old woman reached down and ruffled the boys' hair, murmuring barely comprehensible warnings to behave.
"Write everyday," Winry demanded, sniffling against Ed's neck.
"Promise," the brothers replied in unison, tightening their hold on the girl.
"Last call for boarding the ten o'clock train to Central."
"Come on," Hawkeye soothed, pulling Alphonse against her, offering a grateful smile to a young man helping with their luggage. "Let's go."
He wiped at his eyes with the back of one hand, waving goodbye as the lieutenant led him aboard the train.
"Winry," Pinako insisted. "It's time to leave."
The girl clung more tightly to her friend. "No! They can't take them, I won't let them."
Roy and Pinako shared a rueful look, before Roy took the boy by the shoulders and the old woman took control of her granddaughter, forcing them apart.
"Let go of me, you bastard!" Ed snarled, trying to wrench away, but the hold on him was too tight.
"We'll call," Roy promised one more time, ignoring the squirming mass of preteen boy in his arms, and dragged Ed in the direction of the train.
Winry tried to run after, tears clouding her vision, but her grandmother soon caught her, wrinkled fingers wrapping around the little shoulder, pulling her into a tight embrace. "It's not fair," she muttered. "They take everyone away."
"I know," Pinako whispered, smoothing the child's hair. "I know."
The train ride was proving tolerable enough, the Elrics instantly taking control of the window seats in their compartment. Ed was currently scowling out the window, arms folded across his chest.
Alphonse sighed, leaning his cheek into his hand, idly watching the scenery. "I'm bored."
Mustang roused from his half-sleep, rubbing at his eyes a little. "Mm?"
"Fine job you're doing of protecting us," Ed grumbled, gaze still fixed on the rolling countryside. "Sleeping on the job."
Hawkeye cleared her throat, eyes darting back and forth across the pages of her book. "Let the colonel sleep, Edward. Everything is under control." She turned the page.
Roy smirked and settled back into his seat, pulling his coat – now serving as a blanket – back over his shoulders.
Silence fell over the compartment once more, only to be interrupted again by Al's over exaggerated sigh.
Mustang cracked one eye open. "Still bored?"
Anxiously, the boy looked over and nodded.
"All right," Roy groaned, sitting up. "Let's see what I've got here." He patted around the pockets of his civilian clothing for awhile, before triumphantly holding up a travel-sized deck of playing cards.
Al's face brightened. "Oh, do you know Go Fish?"
"How about poker?"
"I've never played before," he mumbled, pulling his feet up onto the bench. "And isn't it . . . a gambling game?"
"We'll use candy," he shrugged, procuring a bag of treats from another pocket. "I'll teach you." The boy seemed to warm up to this idea and he shot a grin towards his subordinate. "Care to join us, Second Lieutenant?"
"Mm," she didn't even look up from her book, and Roy could've sworn he saw her tongue run over her bottom lip, "Maybe after this chapter."
Roy withheld a chuckle and turned to the boy next to him, "What about you, Edward?"
"Hmmf."
"Looks like it's just the two of us, Alphonse," he said, handing over a small amount of candy. He began shuffling the cards on his knees and explained the rules.
Absorbed in her book, Riza could faintly hear her commanding officer instructing Alphonse, while the characters before her played a very different brand of poker – the kind that did not involve candy or money for bets. Things were getting particularly heated when she felt a presence near her shoulder.
"Lieutenant?" the little voice asked. "What does 'brassiere' mean, and why are they telling that lady to take it off?"
Her eyes went wide and she instantly slammed the book shut.
"Change your mind, Hawkeye?" chuckled Roy.
Her eyes narrowed and she reminded him, "Remember, sir, I've never once lost to you."
"Well, we'll just have to change that now, won't we?" he smirked passing her a handful of candy and starting up the game.
Many hands later, Roy and Al were gaping at their female companion as she counted out her winnings – a useless venture, as she now had every last piece.
"How does she do that?" the boy asked.
Roy shrugged, helplessly. "I wish I knew."
Hawkeye slipped half her winnings into her bench-mate's hand, leaning over to give the other half to his brother.
"Thanks," Ed grumbled half-heartedly.
Al, on the other hand, thanked her rather squeakily, hugging her arm.
She cracked a smile and warned, "Don't eat it all at once, though." She frowned a little. "In fact, you really shouldn't eat any until after lunch."
Roy pulled out his pocket watch and Ed glanced over at it, seemingly interested in anything but the landscape for the first time since boarding the train. "It's almost noon," he snapped it closed, returning it to its proper place. "To the dining hall?"
"Of course, sir," she said, herding the boys in the direction of the dining car.
Some time later they were all settled, the military officers looking over the menus while the boys were coloring their kiddy menus. "So you want the chicken fingers?" Riza asked Al. "Hmm, and some broccoli."
He scrunched up his nose in disgust.
"If you eat your vegetables, we'll have dessert, all right?"
"Apple pie?" he asked hopefully.
"Anything you want. Milk to drink for both of you."
"Don't like milk," Ed grumbled.
"Edward," she scolded, starting her lecture, "you know-"
Bang!
Riza's hand instantly shot to her thigh, where, just above the slit in her skirt, she hid her sidearm.
The entire car drew their attention to a large, poorly dressed man in front of the door nearest Edward, inexpertly waving a gun around as little bits of the ceiling rained down on him. "Now that we have y'all's attention, I'd suggest you have all your valuables at the ready." His companion – a tall, lanky man – stalked around the room, prodding the passengers with the butt of his pistol, instructing them not-so-kindly to place their things in a large sack.
Putting her arm around a shuddering Alphonse, Riza reached her foot under the table and tapped her commanding officer's leg twice. He nodded, a hand firmly planted on Edward's shoulder.
The man with the sack stopped momentarily to check their loot. "What? This is shit! We want the real stuff. Now."
But the poor townsfolk really had nothing better than what they gave, as the elderly woman looking down the robber's gun tried so hard to explain.
Roy slipped his right hand into his pocket, wriggling the fingers into his glove. "Now hold it right there," he said, standing, mind ablaze with calculations – oxygen contents, distances, drafts, not wanting to harm any of the passengers by accident.
The tall man wrenched Edward in front of him, eliciting a cry from the terrified boy, and held the gun to his shoulder, bag abandoned on the floor. "Not so fast."
Roy froze.
"Brother!"
"Sh," Riza soothed, inconspicuously slipping her gun from its holster and pushing Al behind her.
"Anything you want," Roy raised both naked and gloved palms in a sign of peace, "Just hand the boy over."
"You want your son?" he mocked, prodding Ed.
Roy made no move to correct him, merely approaching the attacker slowly, coat moving to the side to reveal the sparkling chain of his pocket watch.
"What's that?" the man nodded, indicating the little treasure.
Roy's eyes widened a little and he glanced to Riza, who was clearly making her own mental tally of their situation. She nodded.
He slowly moved to remove the watch, taking care not to reveal the weapon hidden on his other side. Dangling it by the chain, he held out the offering just long enough for the man to snatch it away. He shoved the blond back to Roy who quickly pushed him under the table.
The robber looked it over for a moment, curiously, before recognition settled on him – nothing else would have that seal. "A state alchemist?" He threw the watch into the bag. "Hey, Joe, this guy's military!" he hollered to his accomplice.
Out of the corner of her eye, Riza saw the man called Joe train his weapon on Roy. His gaze narrowed and she leapt out of her seat, pushing Mustang to the ground. "Colonel!"
Bang!
She felt a rush of pain in her upper arm as the bullet grazed her, but before anything else could happen, she was standing, burying a bullet in each of the thieves' shoulders, causing them to crumple to the ground, clinging to the superficial injuries.
The Elrics – along with the rest of the passengers – looked on in awe as the two officers tied makeshift bandages on the attackers' wounds before securely binding them and instructing a very frazzled worker on what to do with them.
The dining car was soon filled with applause, but Mustang hardly seemed to notice, fingering his subordinate's injury carefully. "Boys?"
The brothers crept out from their hiding place, Ed dropping down to retrieve Roy's watch.
"Let's go," and he led them back to their compartment, one arm around his lieutenant, the other managing to wrap round both Elrics' shoulders.
After checking both Elrics over for any physical injuries, and only finding a very light bruise on Ed's arm, Roy pulled out the med-kit and dug around for some gauze and antiseptic. The space between him and his bench-mate was piled with various first aid supplies, and he made a mental note to organize it when they got back to Central.
Sitting next to him, Riza worked at tearing off the sleeve of her ruined blouse. "Really, sir, you don't have to."
"Nonsense, you're hurt. Aha," he said, holding up what he was looking for. "Here, let me help you with that." He gently removed the remainder of the sleeve.
"It's not like this is the first time I've been shot. I can handle it myself."
"Dammit, Riza," he muttered under his breath. "Just let me take care of you for once."
She sighed in defeat. "Yes, sir."
In no time, he had wiped her arm clean and wrapped it in gauze. "You should still see someone about it when we get home, but that should do for now."
She nodded, admiring his handiwork.
"How's the pain?"
She shrugged, inadvertently wincing as it pulled the skin around the graze.
Wordlessly, he handed her some pain pills, which she took gratefully.
"Be careful, they may make you a little drowsy," he instructed, watching her swallow them dry.
"Thank you, sir."
He quickly caught her chin in his fingers, tilting it every which way. "Are you sure there's nothing else?"
"I'm fine," she insisted. "Are you okay?"
He laughed a little, mirthlessly, withdrawing his hand. "I just got tackled. You, on the other hand, were shot."
"What about you boys?" Riza asked, tearing away from his gaze.
"Fine," Ed replied meekly, and Al nodded in agreement. They both looked pretty shook up.
They fell into a thick silence, and soon, Riza found herself leaning against the cool glass of the window, dwelling somewhere between waking and sleep. She felt something soft and warm wrapping around her and she stirred.
"Sleep," her commanding officer eased, tucking his coat more snugly about her. "I'll keep watch."
"Mm, thank you, sir," she murmured, and drifted into unconsciousness.
After a moment, Ed cleared his throat. "Uh, Lieutenant Colonel?" he asked cautiously.
"Mm?"
He held out the pocket watch. "You left this."
Mustang leaned forward and collected the item, opening it and, once confirming it was no worse for wear, returned it to its proper place. "Thank you, Edward."
The boy nodded, pouring the candy from earlier back and forth between his hands. "And, uh, thanks," he offered sheepishly, "for saving me back there."
Roy grinned a little, reaching forward to ruffle Ed's hair. "Anytime."
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