Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. If I did, there'd have been at least some Roy in chapter 80.

Author's Note: Well, here it is. Most of it written kinda high on painkillers, but I rather like it. Maybe I should write when I'm sick in bed more often? Anyway, thank you to everyone who's reviewed. This is the last chapter of what I consider to be 'set-up' (that is, if I didn't totally space something). So next chapter is going to start a time jump (time jump, whoo!) and this chapter is the last primarily fluffy chapter. I think the next is at least 90 angst, sorry to say. Even this chapter ends on a comparatively dark note. That said, enjoy!

Chapter Five

Summer was almost over, and Mustang and Hawkeye were happy to be back in Central at last. They'd spent the past month (or perhaps a little more) touring the borders of Amestris, leading a small team in quelling smaller rebellions. Their orders had been to reach compliance 'at any cost', but, to two Ishbal veterans like themselves, they easily saw through this façade, and were certain they were sent on a small-scale genocide campaign. Luckily, Roy was a master of the art of fine print, and she'd only had to fire her gun twice, both in defense of him.

They'd had to leave the Elrics with a tutor for the summer, much to the boys' delight, and they wrote often (the post-script in each of Al's letters to Riza begging for her to let him keep the kitten he'd rescued that Izumi-sensei had disapproved of). They missed each other, though, all four of them, and even Ed had given Roy a brief hug when they were reunited. Al, on the other hand, would not let go of Riza until Roy had announced he was treating them all to ice cream.

After two days of leave to get their affairs in order, the pair was back to work again, wading through a pile of paperwork that easily made its way to Riza's waist. They were in the mess hall, discussing the office gossip they'd missed out on during their time away, when one Maes Hughes slid onto the bench next to Roy.

"Well, look who's back from the farthest reaches of Amestris," he grinned, taking a bite from his apple.

Riza offered him a small smile and Roy patted him on the back, "About time, too, huh? How's," he paused, noticing his lieutenant giving him a severe look. "Shit," he muttered.

"Oh, Gracia? She's wonderful! And she's taken up crochet. Wanna see?" he beamed proudly, holding out the stack of photos the pair had missed in their month-long excursion, along with an unidentifiable mess of yarn.

"Maes," Roy growled. "We do not have time to look at all of these now."

"No need! I got doubles. You can share those with Hawkeye, can't you?"

"Why, of course," Roy said, shooting his subordinate a wicked smirk. "I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."

Riza frowned at him, cutting through her chicken a bit more harshly than normal. "Any particular reason you decided to join us today, Major?"

"Do I have to have a reason to eat lunch with two of my dearest friends?" the bespectacled man asked innocently, and when he was met with nothing but annoyed looks, he continued, "Just some news I heard from a little birdie last week."

"You have a lot of those, sir," Riza commented, "even considering that you work in investigations."

His grin broadened for a moment, before he pulled on his serious face. "There's a new state alchemist, the Shadow Alchemist."

"Never heard of 'em," Roy shrugged, prodding at a lump of goo on his tray.

"Actually, I think you have. Does the name Anne Simmons ring a bell?"

Roy considered this for a moment, mulling the name over in his mind, until finally it clicked. "She actually passed?" he sputtered in disbelief.

"Mhm, state licensed and everything now. She's up north with General Armstrong right now."

"Poor girl," Riza mused with a smile. "Shocking place for your first assignment."

"She was the only one to pass this time around," Maes continued. "Nevermind the pickings were rather slim, but the brass saw it fit to give the officer who recruited her a promotion, complete with a transfer and spiffy new office."

Roy looked up from the stack of Gracia pictures with his signature smirk. "You mean . . . ?"

"Don't tell anyone I told you, but the transfer notice should be in your office sometime this afternoon."

Their entire team had been transferred to Eastern, and no-one really seemed concerned about it. The disjointed little family would miss Maes and Gracia, but they'd be able to get by on their own. Riza seemed excited, and had mentioned to Roy that her only living relative – her grandfather – lived in Eastern, and he confided that he'd be able to meet up with an old mentor of his there.

They'd been given two weeks to make arrangements, and they were leaving in the morning. Riza had managed to pack up all of her and Al's things that they wouldn't need, and had them shipped to her grandfather for safe-keeping, so now the four of them were surrounded by boxes in the middle of Mustang's living room, sitting on their pillows splitting an extra large pizza.

"I've never been to Eastern," Al mused, holding his piece in the air as Hayate tried to take a bite out of it.

Riza snapped her fingers and the dog whimpered, lying down beside her. "You'll like it," she assured him.

When they were done eating, Roy gathered their paper plates and napkins into the empty pizza box, and took the rubbish out to the dumpster while Riza saw to getting the Elrics ready for bed. Pajamas donned, teeth brushed and fresh clothes laid out for the morning, the two boys snuggled into their sleeping bags for the night.

Riza, too, was dressed for bed, and was rolling out her sleeping bag when Roy came in from the bathroom. "Excited?" he whispered, careful not to wake the slumbering boys.

"I suppose," she replied, fluffing her pillow. "It's going to be quite an adventure . . . Colonel."

He grinned. "I wasn't the only one with a promotion," he reminded her. "And I do believe yours was more well-earned than mine, babysitting everyone like you do."

"Go to sleep, sir, you're like a child on Christmas Eve."

He chuckled and rolled out his own sleeping bag. "I won't deny it."

Within a few minutes they were settled in for sleep, lying awake in the darkness.

"Riza?"

"Mm?"

"Do you remember the last time we did this?"

There was a shuffling as she rolled over to face him, though she, even with her keen sniper's vision, could not see him. "Of course. You couldn't have been a day over twelve."

"It's just not the same," he sighed.

She let out a little snort of laughter, and there was more rustling as she, he presumed, moved to face away from him. "Sir, if you want someone to cuddle with tonight, I'd suggest putting some dog biscuits in your pockets, because I'm staying right where I am."

There was a moment of silence where it seemed he was debating whether or not to formulate a witty response, and then, "Good-night, Riza."

"Good-night, Sir."

They'd hardly settled into their new apartment when Riza got a call from her grandfather requesting her presence at dinner. Just like him to use his power to see when she was arriving. He'd been pestering her about great-grandchildren (as all relatives do), and had been more than delighted to learn she was the permanent guardian of a preteen boy.

After some shuffling through cardboard boxes, she finally managed to locate Al's nice clothes, and, with the promise of ice cream, managed to get him into them as well. They arrived five minutes early, as was to be expected of the strict First Lieutenant Hawkeye, Al already tugging uncomfortably at his tie, and Hayate scurrying around their feet.

An old man with big glasses and a funny mustache answered the door, and, after returning Riza's smart salute, drew her into a tight embrace. "Well, well, well, my dear," he chuckled, holding her at arm's length. "You're looking better than ever." He glanced behind her at the blond boy, awkwardly holding Hayate's leash. "And you must be Alphonse."

Al nodded, a little nervously, "And this is Black Hayate."

As if on cue, Hayate pranced forward to meet the old man, who dropped to his knees to ruffle the mutt's ears. "Well, it seems I have two great-grandsons! Though a little unconventional, I must say."

"Have you grown to expect anything less from me?"

"This is true," he agreed, and escorted them inside. "Make yourselves at home," he insisted. "Dinner's in the oven."

Riza dropped down to unlatch Hayate's leash and hang it on a hook by the door. "How have you been, Grandfather? I don't hear from you half as much as I'd like."

"I'm pleased to say that's going to change now that you're stationed here," he said, pouring each of them a glass of wine and arranging an orange juice and water bowl for the younger guests. "And you know how it is, things here in Eastern tend to be on the tame side. Lots of paperwork."

Riza nodded and settled into a large plush chair to continue their conversation. "I'm sure my CO is going to love that."

The old man grinned, possibly a tad mischievously. "Sounds like a certain chess partner of mine," he mused.

"Not the one you keep pushing me to marry," she said, repressing the urge to roll her eyes.

"One and the same," he said, getting comfortable on the couch with Alphonse. Their conversation continued amiably, and Riza's grandfather took the opportunity to acquaint himself with Al, and in this time gathered that he was passionate about alchemy and cats, though he missed the name of his favorite comic book character.

The doorbell rang and Riza raised an eyebrow. "Grandfather? Are you expecting more company?"

He sent her a sly look as he clambered to his feet and made his way to the door. "Just an old chess partner."

"Grandfather," she warned in a low voice. "You'd better not be doing what I think you're doing."

He didn't have a chance to respond, for as soon as the door creaked open, they were greeted by a most familiar voice whining, "Who's the old guy?"

"Ed!" Al squeaked, and set about untangling himself from Hayate to greet his brother.

Riza turned suddenly, and could vaguely make out a shape slapping a smaller shape upside the head before snapping a firm salute. "Good evening, General Grumman," came the voice of her commanding officer.

She visibly paled.

When Roy finally made it to the living room, he seemed shocked – and a bit confused – to find his Lieutenant, oddly dressed in some of her nicer clothes, saluting. "Colonel Mustang," she greeted. "Surprise seeing you here."

"Ah, Mustang," Grumman interrupted. "I see you've met my granddaughter, Riza."

The color drained from Mustang's cheeks in an instant. "Granddaughter?"

"You mean she hasn't told you?" Grumman feigned innocence. "I could have sworn you knew." He clapped his hands cheerfully. "Right then, Al, why don't you and your brother help me set the table for dinner?"

The Elrics followed him into the kitchen, chattering excitedly about their respective new apartments – much to everyone's disappointment, they'd been unable to find two in the same building – and the most recent embarrassing tidbit they'd learned about their guardians.

"You swear you didn't know?" Riza snapped, as soon as she assumed everyone else was out of earshot.

"I swear!" Roy held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I thought his granddaughter was some . . . some . . ."

"Bimbo?"

"Yes!"

"And now?" she frowned, planting her hands on her hips – that universal feminine gesture that always made him cringe.

"What? I didn't mean that you're a bimbo or a floozy or anything!"

"No," she folded her arms across her chest. "I meant about my grandfather. What do you plan on doing about him?"

Roy stroked his chin thoughtfully. "He certainly is trying to play matchmaker, isn't he?"

She joined him in silent thought for a moment, before a gasp escaped her lips. "You don't suppose he might have had something to do with the boys being split up between the two of us, do you?"

"As if we'd ever get him to admit to it," he snorted. "It looks like we're just going to have to lay down the law and make sure he knows that we're abiding by certain laws, too."

Riza agreed, and led him into the kitchen so they could help with dinner. Much to their surprise, any previous talk of marriage was apparently forgotten the remainder of the night. In fact, it seemed Grumman was far more interested in teaching Ed better ways to avoid his milk and vegetables. Of course, this did not particularly please Riza, but she was happy to see her grandfather reliving his glory days in espionage, and couldn't help but offer up some tips she'd learned from sniping. Mustang, however, could only frown out the window, where there was a light trickle of rain splashing against the glass, and mutter something about uselessness.

They'd managed to settle into a routine once more, and the Elrics were back in school. Ed was delighted to learn they found him responsible enough to keep track of both himself and his brother in his and Mustang's apartment until the two (usually weary) soldiers managed to make it home from the office. If she hadn't known otherwise, Riza would have sworn that they'd been living as some disjoint little family all their lives. Her grandfather was right, though, Eastern had an extraordinarily large amount of paperwork associated with it, but it was better than dealing with hardened criminals on a daily basis. Yes, everything seemed to be going perfectly for once.

That is, until one day when Havoc came in and dropped a pile of envelopes on her desk.

Most were the usual, notices, memos and the like from other places around Headquarters, some gossip from Gracia and a silly note from her grandfather. But what really caught her eye was a letter, postmarked three weeks ago, from Dublith. From what she could tell, it had taken the beating often associated with mail being redirected due to a military reassignment. She tore into it immediately.

Lt. Hawkeye,

We didn't want to worry you when you were gone on your campaign, and the issue has since been resolved, but I feel you should be kept up to date with the goings on of the young Elrics.

Don't worry, they've behaved (for the most part anyway) and have been progressing at a startling rate, both in alchemy and martial arts. They're bright boys, both of them. Perhaps that's what makes what I'm about to tell you so worrisome. As I'm sure you know, those two can be sloppier than pigs if you let them off their chores even for a day, and I was forced to sneak in and tidy their room a bit (can't be getting rats now, can we?). When I was there, I found a mess of papers, alchemy notes actually. They were scattered over an open folder, and I was merely going to slip them inside and move the packet to a more reasonable location. But something caught my eye; I recognized the circles drawn there. Now, let me tell you, these were not ordinary circles. In fact, they're some of the most advanced alchemical processes known to date. They were accompanied by corresponding lists; elements needed and in what quantity. There was no doubt – these were research on human transmutation. It wouldn't take an idiot to figure out what they were up to.

They were going to transmute their mother.

Now, before you start putting bullets in the wall, know that we've sufficiently handled the situation. I do not feel at liberty to discuss the exact conversation, but you can rest assured that they will never even think about trying such a foolish thing again. But it was only right for you to know, and I hope you can forgive our not writing sooner. This was an isolated incident and, despite what those two might tell you, we enjoyed having them, and they are welcome in our house anytime. Please, keep in touch, and remind Ed to drink his milk every now and then.

Take care,

Izumi (and Sig) Curtis

Riza stared blankly at the piece of paper for a moment, came to her senses, reread it, and was immediately standing by Mustang's desk, concern etched on her face.

"Lieutenant?" he frowned, looking up from where he was doodling (an intricate, if not somewhat cartoon-ish, representation of the tree outside his window).

"Colonel," she said, thrusting the slightly crinkled page at him. "I think you need to read this, sir."

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