Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: I know this is a long time coming, and I feel really bad, because I've had most of this chapter written since the first of the year, I just couldn't get it to work until now. Still, it's not the best, but rest assured there's only one more chapter of set-up and then we get the real story (omg yay!), and the flow and format will improve a lot, I think. And yes, there is an OC in this chapter, but . . . she really doesn't have a whole lot to do with the story, she just helps push it along when is necessary. I'm actually really happy with the way she turned out. I think that's all, really . . . thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Chapter Four

The arrangement continued to work smoothly, and it almost seemed the Elrics were happy with their new lives, to some extent. The letters to and from Risembool never dwindled in frequency, and Riza eventually had to clear out a drawer in the kitchen for all the letters Al received from Winry when they managed to swallow the entire floor in the boy's room.

Riza stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped and tucked around her body and another ruffling through her hair – she was growing it out and though it wasn't much longer than normal, she was already feeling the extra work it would take to keep care of it.

She was just about to discard the towel in favor of some real clothes, when a piercing shriek echoed from the direction of Al's room.

Without a second thought she'd collected her gun from the sink counter and was sprinting to the boy's room, free hand holding the towel steady.

"Alphonse!" she called, throwing open his door.

She sighed in relief to find her young charge perfectly safe, her puppy trotting over his blanket-covered body, licking his face, eliciting shrieks of laughter. She set her weapon on the bedside table and sat carefully on the edge of the bed, pulling the dog into her lap. "Hayate," she scolded, placing him on the ground and shooing him out the door. "You know you're supposed to let Alphonse sleep on Saturdays." She shot a small smile in the drowsy boy's direction, but her face quickly fell when she saw him, not rolling over to go back to sleep as she expected, but staring beyond her in what almost looked like horror.

She twisted to look at it – the mirror hanging above the dresser. There, the black lines and flaming, gnarled flesh were clearly visible, sprawling from the edge of the towel, claiming her shoulder blades.

"Alphonse . . ." she breathed, trying to find words to explain.

"That's," he said, mouth trying its best to form the words. "That's alchemy."

She nodded a little, watching his face carefully as his eyes narrowed, still fixed on the reflection.

"That's the circle. The circle on Roy's gloves, isn't it?"

"Yes. It is," she admitted.

His focus flitted from the mirror to her for a moment, before settling on her eyes, expression clouded with fear and disgust. "Did he . . . ?"

"No."

"Then . . . how?" he frowned.

"You could say my father was the first flame alchemist."

The younger of the Elric brothers was smarter than one might expect, and she saw the realization dawn on his face, eyes widening and gazing at her with understanding, to some extent, at least. With that bit of knowledge, it wasn't much of a leap to the truth, and she was glad – those were times she'd rather not have to relate to her young charge. "But . . . the burns?"

She shuddered a little in remembrance and ruffled his hair. "Ishbal," she answered slowly, "left marks on all of us."

That night at dinner, the boys (yes, all three of them) were playing that game where they tried to sneak their vegetables onto each other's plates and Ed tried his hardest to pour his milk into Mustang's glass. They all thought they were mighty clever to have passed under Hawkeye's superb surveillance, but what they didn't realize was that she managed to sneak extra servings onto each of their plates without them even noticing.

"Hawkeye and I are leaving Central next week," Roy said, popping a bite of chicken into his mouth.

"Why?" Al asked, oblivious as his brother managed to switch their glasses (Al's milk almost entirely gone now).

"There's word of a very talented alchemist in Dublith. I'm going to recruit her."

"Why does Aunt Riza have to go too?"

"Because I'm his aide and bodyguard," she explained gently, taking the pitcher to refill Ed's milk.

"But it's spring break!" Ed protested, frowning at his beverage which was suddenly no longer empty. "You can't leave on spring break."

Roy and his subordinate exchanged a confused look, "What about Risembool?" Of course what about Risembool, it was one of the first trips home they'd ever agreed upon; a whole week without Ed's trouble-making habits and Al trying to take home every stray cat he came across. The adults may have been more excited than the children.

"Didn't Granny tell you?"

"Tell us what?" Roy frowned, slipping some broccoli down to Black Hayate.

"They're going to an automail convention in Rush Valley that week and said we'd be in the way," Ed explained. "I thought she told you."

Both adults shook their heads and immediately jumped into the thought process of what could be done with the Elrics while they were away. "Do you think Gracia would mind?"

Roy shrugged. "I don't know. She's already done so much."

"I'd hate to ask for more," Riza agreed.

"I wonder if one of the men . . ."

Riza shot a glare in the direction of her superior and he instantly realized exactly how bad of an idea this really was – they wouldn't want the children around all of Havoc's smoke for too long, and he was already dog-sitting; the rest of the men lived in the dorms.

"What about that friend of yours? In Stars Hollow? Lorelai, wasn't that her name?"

Riza shook her head and patted at her mouth with her napkin. "She's a working single mother. I don't think she could handle all three of them for a whole week."

Roy sighed, defeated.

"Maybe we could come with you," Al suggested meekly.

"We'll figure something out," Riza said firmly, and dinner continued normally.

Immediately after dinner, Al grabbed his brother and challenged him to checkers, while Riza ran some water and soap in the sink, the sleeves of her blouse rolled up past her elbows. Roy brought over the dishes and smiled a little upon hearing her humming.

This had become a post-dinner ritual for them – he'd clear the table, she'd wash the dishes, and he'd dry and put away. They only thought it fair, as their young charges were very helpful throughout the week, and they were still children and in need of a break from chores now and then.

After a time, Roy sighed. "I think we're going to have to take them with us."

Riza nodded. "I think so too."

"It can't be . . .that bad, can it?"

The woman shrugged and ran the plate in her hands under the faucet. "Al knows." She handed it to him.

Hands working at drying, he questioned, "Knows what?"

"About the array."

He froze for an instant but recovered quickly. "How did that happen?"

"An unfortunate incident involving Hayate and a towel."

His eyes widened and he could feel his blood rushing south. "So he saw you . . . ?"

"Mind out of the gutter, sir," she instructed, handing him the last of the dishes and unplugging the drain. "He just saw the top half."

"How much does he know?"

"I'm assuming he's gathered that you were my father's apprentice. Though he's still confused about why the research is where it is."

"He's not ready for that," he agreed. "And the . . . ah . . . and the burns?" He glanced at her nervously.

"I avoided divulging that information, sir," she said softly.

"Thank you," he whispered, afraid to meet her eyes.

As far as Riza was concerned, the train ride to Dublith couldn't have been longer. Mustang had ignored the paperwork he was to work on while they were in transit, and the Elrics had learned some horrid, unending song in school that they never ceased to regale her with. It was no wonder that once they'd finally arrived, she was more than a little irritated.

"A butcher's shop, huh?" Roy commented, looking from the file to the building before him.

"It appears so," his subordinate replied, collecting the folder from him and herding the young Elrics close to her.

The man shrugged and led the way inside, listening as the bell above the door jingled, signaling their entrance. They were greeted by a loud grunt, coming from a bearded man of Armstrong-caliber size, standing behind the counter and wiping his hands on his apron.

"Hello," Roy began, trying to remain as pleasant as possible in this awkward situation. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang. I was wondering if I could speak with Izumi Curtis."

The large man's frown grew. "Military."

"Excuse me?"

It was then that the door to the back room flew open to reveal a harsh-looking woman, dark braids framing her face as she folded her arms across her chest. "What do you want?"

Roy cleared his throat and approached, greeting in a professional tone, "Izumi Curtis? I'm Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang." He held out his hand.

The woman didn't move, eyes darting briefly to his hand, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

He glanced momentarily at his subordinate – who shrugged – and withdrew his hand. "I was wondering if I could speak to you about the State Alchemy Program."

The words had barely left his lips by the time the woman had neatly kicked him in the gut – and, Riza winced, seemed to have accidentally (or perhaps not) hit a bit lower – sending him crumpling to the floor.

Ed came forward, stepping on his guardian in the process, and regarded Izumi skeptically. "Who's the old lady?"

"Edward!" Riza admonished, carefully maneuvering herself and Al around Mustang's prone body.

The older Elric quickly defended himself, "She's older than you!"

"I'm sorry, Edward has a habit of speaking before he thinks," Riza apologized. "I'm Second Lieutenant Hawkeye." She offered her hand and the older woman clasped it curtly. "Please excuse the lieutenant colonel; he's under the impression that charisma and good looks will get him everywhere."

With the help of some womanly understanding, the two officers were soon seated on the couch in the Curtises' living room, their young charges reading comic books at their feet and their less than impressed hostess on a plush chair opposite them. "So what makes you think I'd be interested in becoming a State Alchemist?"

"Practically unlimited resources," Roy listed, "An immediate ranking of major, fair pay . . ."

As if she hadn't heard him, Izumi changed the subject entirely. "Your sons," she commented, glancing to the children on the floor, "how old are they?"

"Sons?!"

"They're not ours," Riza corrected, completely unfazed. "We are merely their guardians."

The older woman nodded. "I didn't think the military looked too kindly on fraternization amongst its members."

"No," the lieutenant agreed quietly, absently smoothing her skirt. "It's grounds for court martial." Beside her, Roy cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Izumi cast him an annoyed look before turning back to the other woman. "How long do you have them?"

"Permanently."

She frowned.

"They're orphans, but due to their remarkable talent in alchemy, the state elected to put them in military custody for their own protection."

Izumi raised her eyebrows, gazing, unconvinced, at the two boys giggling over their comics. "Alchemists?"

"They really are quite talented," Roy supplied.

She shot him a glare before turning to Riza. "Have you found them a teacher?"

The blonde nodded. "Lieutenant Colonel Mustang has been teaching them when he can, but I'm afraid it won't be enough when they get older. We're not sure what they plan to do with it yet, but they've shown nothing but distaste for the State Alchemy Program so far."

The alchemist nodded thoughtfully and made her way to the bookcase, where she found an old leather-bound book. "This," she said, blowing some dust off the cover, "should keep them occupied for some time."

"Oh, no, we couldn't accept-"

Izumi cast the younger woman a stern look and set the book between the Elrics, lingering close to them with an almost sympathetic expression. She straightened and moved toward her chair. "As for finding a new State Alchemist, I . . ." and she trailed off, coughing into her hand, little droplets of blood slipping from between her fingers.

"Mrs. Curtis!" Both officers were on their feet in an instant, Riza with an arm around the other woman's back, holding her steady. She broke free, the attack passing, and wiped her hand and mouth on her handkerchief, free hand casting around for a bottle of medicine.

"There's another alchemist in town, a talented young woman," Izumi continued as if nothing had happened, and took a swig of the bitter liquid. "She works for the locksmith."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"It happens all the time."

It wasn't long before the officers decided it was time to leave the Curtises be, that the woman would not be swayed when it came to her opinion of the military. But Riza seemed to genuinely enjoy the female companionship, and Izumi appeared to have developed a bit of a soft spot for the Elrics, and assured them they could write her with any questions their 'idiot' guardian couldn't answer. And so, with a brief farewell, Roy was leading his 'troops' further into town in search of this other alchemist.

The locksmith's shop wasn't very far, and they were once more greeted by the ringing of bells as they walked in the door. A woman – perhaps twenty years of age – looked up to greet them. "Hello," she smiled. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Roy tentatively held out his hand. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang. I heard there was an alchemist that works here."

She shook his hand lightly. "An alchemist? Oh, yes. I suppose that would be me."

"Suppose?" he frowned, fearful of yet another dead end.

"It's a hobby," she shrugged. "I'm Anne Simmons."

"Miss Simmons," he nodded. "I'm recruiting for the State Alchemy Program," he explained, glancing behind himself where Riza was scolding Edward for something. "I've heard that you might be interested."

"I don't know how much use I'd be to the military," she admitted, twisting a glove between her fingers.

"We'll just have to find out, then." Dead end, all right, but it wouldn't hurt to ask a few more questions. "What's your specialty?"

"It's," she paused, releasing the fabric, "hard to explain."

He opened his mouth to question her further, but was interrupted by his exasperated lieutenant, informing him that she'd be with the Elrics down the road getting some snacks, before being tugged out of the room by the aforementioned young alchemists.

After some bickering over exactly what they wanted to eat, Ed and Al were racing around the park, picking friendly fights with one another, their much-debated food now long forgotten. Hawkeye couldn't help but smile, watching them from a nearby bench, munching thoughtfully on her own popcorn. To think, when she'd first been given custody of a preteen boy, she'd been more than a little upset and uncertain. Now, though, she realized this was probably the closest she'd ever get to motherhood, and she wasn't going to let it pass her by.

The bench let out a disgruntled groan, drawing her attention to her newly come companion. "They're going to wear themselves out by the time we make it to station," the familiar voice commented.

"I believe, sir, that was the point." She silently offered some of her treats, and he gratefully accepted. "Any luck?"

Roy shrugged, sliding his arms across the back of the bench with a sigh. "I'm not sure; it's worth a shot at least. She's talented enough, I suppose, and the military's desperate for recruits as it is. At this point, anything that might put me in for a promotion."

"Mm," she nodded thoughtfully, murmuring a little, "To the top."

"How long until we leave for Rush Valley?" he yawned, leaning his head back.

She checked her watch and confirmed that they had a little over an hour before they had to catch their train. "Long enough," she replied, and threaded her fingers through Ed's hair as he and his brother settled down at their feet. "Rest for awhile."

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