HOPE SPRINGS RESORT—REPUBLIC OF RANAMUERTE

Alphonse almost tripped over Taisa's long legs when he stumbled to the bathroom around 4am. His brother's lover was curled up on the floor with a blanket and a pillow off the sofa where Edwin was snoring softly. "Taisa? Are you all right?"

To his relief, Mustang gave him a drowsy grin that reminded him sharply of the expression on the face of Yao, his 'psychotic psiamese', right after the cat had turned Ed's beloved koi pond into his personal sushi bar. "Never better. I just had to get out of there before I compromised your brother's virtue. I'm fine."

"You won't be in the morning if you sleep down there. We've got to go up to the Portal stone on the zip lines, remember? I've got the clock set for 5am. The bed's big enough for both of us, and—" Alphonse grinned back mischievously "—I know I'm not your type."

Groaning a little, Mustang crawled in under the light covers and shifted the corner of his pillow fussily until it fitted just so under the curve of his neck. "Too right," he muttered drowsily. "Ai-san would kill me."

Al's tousled head poked around the bathroom door, eyes alight. "Really?"

Edward, on the other hand, could barely keep his eyes closed. There was an odd discomfort in his chest, as if his heart had dried up and had only just been refreshed—and had to be stretched like old leather to contain this new happiness.

The bed smelled deliciously of Mustang's cologne and even after his lover left Ed couldn't help nuzzling the pillows and inhaling deeply, unable to resist rewinding and playing back the pornographic mental movies racing through his head.

They abided by the rules. Hands—and mouths—above the waist or below the crotch. That, as any horny teenager could have told them, left for a hell of a lot of leeway when it came to getting oneself or one's lover off.

In the crimson cavern of Mrs. Christmas' brothel, Ed remembered lying half-rigid with anxiety that first night while watching his Colonel turn the simple act of removing his clothing into erotic theater. Tonight, Roy had him pinned to the headboard with his hot eyes as he slowly peeled off what was left of his clothing before forcing Edward to watch as he pleasured himself. Long fingers caressed Ed's lips before gliding into his mouth, withdrawing and wetly circling taut nipples that made his lover's mouth water. As tanned, slim hands glided over the rippled abdomen, Mustang voice became a hoarse whisper: "don't look away". The fingers invaded Edward's mouth once again, only this time they disappeared from sight; Roy's soft growls of lust told him precisely what those fingers were doing and how good it felt. Roy bit his lips as he writhed before his man, arching back to meet those thrusting fingers, rocking forward into is own right hand that flicked and squeezed and wrung every last drop of pleasure from the younger man. Once he recovered he crawled up to where his lover was slumped against the pillows, open mouthed and too stunned to speak.

"Get them off," Roy hissed, guiding his lover's hand towards his belt. Ed was so bedazzled he fumbled like a nervous virgin until he finally rolled off the bed and ripped his zipper trying to get naked. "Sit down," he ordered as he crawled behind the smaller man, a pillow pressed into service between their hips as an improvised chastity barrier.

Those gloves…those motherfucking, wonderful gloves. Stroking the back of his neck. Skating along his spine…then ohdearfuckinggod, sliding leisurely up the insides of his straining thighs, brushing perilously near without touching. All the while Mustang was whispering things, tender obscenities, punctuated by an inquisitive tongue that flicked in and out of Ed's ear.

"Goddamn you, Taisa," Ed groaned, biting his pillow in frustration as he reached for himself yet again. He should never want anything—or anyone—as much as he craved his lover's body. Roy had taken hold of his wrist, molding his fingers to a certain shape and guided it down. "Slow and deep… tell me how it good it feels…"

"Nnnnggg….haaa….godOHgoddd…"

"Say it, Fullmetal…tell me what it feels like…"

"You're….SHIT! God, that's so…hhhuuuhhhh…"

A soft thwap! as one of the empty gloves slapped against his bare belly. "Tell me… talk to me, Edward…"

And he'd been utterly helpless, goddamn it. …and all the while his lover—his mate—was teasing him with those motherfucking gloves…

Ker-BLAMMMM! A size nine Tony Lama cowboy boot kicked the door open. "SHIT!" Ed yelped, yanking the rumpled sheet over his crotch to conceal his frustrated erection.

"WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU UP YET, Edouard??" Jeanne-Marie Havoc stomped in, bearing a breakfast tray. Ai-san was right behind her with an armload of fresh laundry. The older woman paused beside the bed, glanced down at Ed's flushed face and snickered evilly. "Ha! You was up already, non?" The tray was deposited on his lap, and Ed could have sworn she pushed it down deliberately to make him squirm with discomfort. "You better keep your strength up, cher. Got a long day takin' us all up to dat damn cave on de zipline."

"I have your clothing ready, Edo-san," Ai smiled, keeping her eyes politely away from her employer's naked form. "Al-san gave me a list to pick up from the outfitters in the gift shop. Al-san and Mustang-san say they will meet you in the lobby at six-fifteen with Teddy-san, Havoc-san, and Edwin-Kun. I will stay here with Izumi-chan and watch her."

"Fine, whatever---waitaminute!" Ed spat out a mouthful of buttered toast. "What do you mean, 'Edwin-kun'? He's not going with us."

"De hell you say," Jeanne-Marie shot back. "Dat boy—he seen plenty trouble back at Sonic, unless yo' little mind can't hol' on to dat kind of information for very long, hah?"

Edward glared up at his alchemic disciple with real irritation. "That isn't your decision to make."

"Oh? De hell it ain't," she crowed back in triumph. "You an' Papa Alphonse and Teddy—you say he's mine to order around. Got to do what I say, yes? Well, I say he need to go with us. Wanna teach that infant how to behave? Want him to act right? Den you show him what he up against. Not on video. Show him for real. D'accord?"

Ed rubbed his eyes and sighed in resignation. "Fine. Fine. Whatever—only if he gets hurt, you get to explain it to Fritz."

Jeanne-Marie's face sobered instantly. "Dat's a moot point. Fritz ain't comin' back, non. I won't say nothin' until de cops tell us. But he's gone, Edouard. An' someone's gonna have to break it to de boy."

Ed stared at her. "Bullshit."

" I know what I know, cher."

"How?"

"Asked de spiders before we lef' Orlando. Big ol' wolf spider in de ladies' pissoir at de airport. Must have rode in on someone's luggage. Mama Wolf, she tol' me. And de boy more dan half suspects it."

"You're full of shit, Jeanne." Ed shook his head, although there was an icy sickness forming in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't quite ignore. He grabbed at the carafe on his tray, lifted the lid and sniffed expectantly. "Fuck—this is hot water! Where's my goddamn coffee?"

"Embargo, Edo-san," Ai explained, digging into her pocket. "No coffee, because of the war with Jamaica. But I met some women from the boat who had some to spare." She handed him a small orange packet filled with brown crystals. Decaffeinated brown crystals, to be precise. Ed stared at it with disgust.

"SANKA?"

"You're welcome, Edo-san."

Meanwhile, Hughes was getting forcefully reamed—and it was anything but enjoyable. "You asshole!" Teddy shouted, pacing back and forth in front of the bed where her dear friend and former lover was cowering under the blankets. "You low-life motherfucker! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING???"

Mays put up his arms by reflex, not that Teddy had ever raised her hand to him. "Now, see here, Ted-o—"

"Gimme your wallet," she snapped.

"Huh?"

"Your wallet, damn it!"

Was that it?? Fer cryin' out loud—was Teddy trying to blackmail him? Were Teddy and Havoc that bad off…? He pulled his trousers off the floor and handed over his billfold. "Sweetie, look—if it's cash you need, you don't have to threaten me. What's mine is yours—and Gracia would back me up on this---"

Teddy gritted her teeth in frustration, rummaging thru the contents of May's walled until she found what she was looking for.

A stack of photographs were shoved under his pointed nose. "Two beautiful kids," Teddy told him seriously. "And since you obviously don't give a rat's ass about them or their mom, I might as well get rid of them for you." She looked down sadly at a snapshot of Alycia, beaming in delight as she posed on the sofa with her newborn sister Teddi-Grace. Teddy ripped the photo into tiny pieces and dumped them in the trash. "Sorry, precious. Oh—and this is a good one." Mays sucked in his breath abruptly as Teddy displayed a photo of Gracia in her wedding dress, a huge bouquet of white roses in her hands. "Gracie, you were too good for this crawling shit. Better luck next time—"

Hughes bolted out of bed and wrestled the remaining photos out of Teddy's grasp. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Teddy regarded him coolly. "Same thing you did when you let some man bone you up the ass. You pissed all over your marriage vows, Mays." He opened his mouth to protest, but her next words shut him up. "You've played around in the past—and that was fine. But you made a vow to be faithful to this woman, Mays. This wasn't an open relationship like ours was. You settled down. You have a beautiful family. And now you're out on the prowl again. And worse, you're on the Down Low. Oh, god, Mays—how could you do this to her?"

Mays sank down onto the side of his bed, head in hands. "Ted—I love my wife. And god knows I love my family….it's just that—"

"You wanted cock."

He didn't look up. "Yeah."

"Specifically, you wanted Remy's cock."

Hughes felt physically ill and for a moment was genuinely concerned that he might throw up all over Teddy's feet. That might have struck him as funny under any other circumstances—but not right now. "I tried so hard," he confessed. "I didn't want to feel that way. He's just…really damn—"
"Yeah. He is. And you should have talked to him, Mays."

Had she lost her senses? "He'd kill me."

"He knows. And you don't give him enough credit."

He stared at her, utterly confused. "I d-don't—"

Teddy rumpled her hair in frustration. "Good god, just think about him, Mays. You think this doesn't happen all the time? He's used to it. He's not upset—he's just worried you'll do something foolish and it will cost you your wife and kids—and now that you have—" The despair on her ex's face told her that maybe—just maybe—it might not be too late. She sighed dramatically. "All right. Let me ask you a few questions. Is it Remy, specifically? Men in general—or is it just that you want to get fucked up the ass?"

After a long while he reached for her hand. "Remember that night before your cancer surgery? When you and Cowboy Roy turned the tables on me?"

"—and Taisa topped you. Yeah. I remember. Go on."

He was shaking so badly, and she wasn't giving him any sympathy. Terrified that he was going to lose her as well as his wife and children, he decided to come clean—so to speak. "Teddy—that was the best night of sex I've ever had in my whole fuckin' life! I mean, here I am, Mr. Piledriver, Mr.-Big-Dick-Who-Runs-The-Whole-Show, Mr. Always In Control….and the two of you took that away from me! I surrendered, Ted---and it was so goddamn hot. Taisa just fucked the living shit out of me—and it felt so unbefreakin'lievable. Swear to god. And he never did it again! I-I mean, you guys tied me to the bed and he just rode me---made me lose control. It was the hottest damn thing I've ever done."

"—and you never said a word about it, not in all these years." Teddy shook her head. "So you found something that really turned you on but it embarrassed you to admit it. And when you got a good look at my hot, gorgeous husband you started having fantasies."

"No! I-I mean, yeah…I mean, if he'd actually come on to me, I wouldn't have known whether to run, shit or go blind! But it was such a hot fantasy—god, I'm sorry, Ted."

Teddy rolled her eyes skyward, invoking the Sublime Mother Of The Universe Who Politely Looks The Other Way When Her Children Are Behaving Like Utter Morons. "Mayland…did you ever talk to Gracia about this fantasy of yours?"

His jaw dropped in horror. "Christ—you can't be serious, Teddy! Tell her that—that I—liked…you know?"

"Ha! He can do it—he just can't say it!" she taunted, before relenting a little." Look, Shithead—you want to lose your wife and children, you'd better not fuck around again. And talk to your wife, goddamn it! Listen to me—your wife does not shit rose petals and petunias! You want her to tie you up and top you, then ask her, dink!"

"I'm not hearing this," he stammered. "I am not hearing this. You're telling me that I tell my wife—"

"—that you want her to top you. Damn right I am. Could save your marriage—and your family."

"Out of the question. She'd never—"

"How do you know if you don't ask??"

He stared at her, dumbfounded, then began to look suspicious. "Right. Like you'd tell Remy about your little kinks."

She smiled proudly. "I have. And he's told me his."

"T-that's…that's insane." Hughes shook his head. "Remy wouldn't—"
"Let's just say," she tossed him a hot smile as the colors rose in her cheeks, "that when my Remy suggests we head to the kitchen for a 'midnight snack'…I'll race him to the fridge." She rose and hugged him. "Don't sell her short, Piledriver. Now get your ass in gear—Edo and Daddy are waiting in the lobby."

"Ai-san?" Alphonse smiled shyly at his former housekeeper as she met Alphonse and Remy in the lobby to pick up the baby while her parents hiked up to the secluded cave once occupied by Eyes-Of-Gold. "I was just talking to that nurse who works in the nursery. She seems so nice and she suggested that since you enjoyed going to the spa yesterday that maybe you ought to just take the rest of the morning and afternoon off and let us treat you to a full day of relaxing? Teddy suggested that you could have a hot stone massage, go for a swim, maybe—they've got a menu like a restaurant. You've worked so hard for us. Izumi will be perfectly happy in the nursery. Why not let us spoil you a little?"

"I…I don't know," she answered quietly. "It is my responsibility—"

"It would make me very happy if you'd say yes." Swallowing hard, he reached out and squeezed her hand. "Please, Ai…"

It was the first time he'd spoken to her without the traditional honorific, and she flushed with pleasure and embarrassment. "All right….Aru."

"Perfect." Nurse Greene purred over the crib where Izumi Jean Elric napped. "Such little hands and feet. All that softness and sweetness. All that rotten blood in your little body---his blood. Well…we'll just have to do something about that, won't we, Mrs. CURTIS???"

AMESTRIS, PRESENT DAY

STATE MUSEUM OF ALCHEMY, CENTRAL

"---taught the Elric brothers the fundamentals of Amestrian Alchemy. It is known that she did not approve of Edward's decision to become a State Alchemist and released both brothers from discipleship. Nonetheless, Izumi Curtis remained a powerful influence on both brothers, most notably Alphonse, who returned to her tutelage as soon as his physical body was restored. She died in 1917."

Professor 'Dickless" Dickinson nodded. "That will do nicely, Mr. Tringham. We'll edit that into the guidebook. Pities there are no relics of Mrs. Curtis to put on display."

"We've still got plenty from the brothers," Josh Tringham offered. "And the uniform of Colonel Mustang."

"Quite a coup, securing that," Dickinson pulled on his pipe thoughtfully. "Was that the one found in the ruins of that brothel that was attacked by Frank Archer?"

Josh nodded. "Yeah. Why would Mustang go to a brothel? I mean, from everything I've read about him he could have had any woman in the country."

His supervisor snorted. "From what I've heard, he probably did have every woman in the country. But Mrs. Christmas' establishment was a notorious gathering place for those rebelling against Bradley's regime. I don't doubt that Mustang's assignation had little to do with sex and everything to do with sedition. Doubtless that he left his uniform behind while changing into plainclothes. It is all to our good fortune that he left certain bits of ID behind so we could identify them as his. Has it been properly cleaned, boy?"

"Yessir. I was going to put it on the dummy tonight."

"Fine, fine. I won't keep you. Heading home early tonight—you will be here early tomorrow, yes? I've already spoken with your principal. You'll be allowed a day off school since this constitutes participating in an educational event. Bring something to change into. You can use the showers in the lab downstairs."

"Yessir!"

Thought the old fossil would never leave. Tringham checked around cautiously, but there were no other curators, researchers or assistants around the wing where the big exhibit and gala fundraiser was to be held tomorrow night. "Mustang: The Man And His Time" and "The Elric Brothers—Legacy of Genius" would run simultaneously for the next six months before going on the road across Amestris. Already the ambassadors of Xing were negotiating for the rights to bring the show to their country.

And they don't have a freakin' clue, he mused to himself, taking a big bite out of Big Gran burger, dunking the greasy treat into a cup of Flame Alchemist sauce that was meant for the Not-A-Shrimp bites he normally snacked on from the food kiosk outside. Good thing I got the goods out of Mustang's pocket before handing that damned uniform over to Dickless.

It was small jar of lubricating unguent.

And a lock of coarse golden hair, tied with a bit of red thread.

And a black and white photo taken of an unsmiling young man with sharpish features, captured off guard beside a seven foot tall suit of armor.

Hohenheim's stone had been moved to the Elric exhibit that morning, scrubbed clean and positioned behind the velvet ropes for optimal photo opportunities. Skinning under the barrier, Josh Tringham checked for guards. Then he dug in his pocket for the strange Lazurite stone, mounted in silver and gold, which he'd found among the boxed odds and ends from Mustang's Lair in Brigg's Mountain.

"All right," he muttered to the Stone as he laid the pendant against its cool, opaque surface. "Let's see what happens if you touch…"

Goddamn, I thought Jeanne-Marie would never leave! Edward cursed under his breath as he tugged the khaki cargo pants over his automail leg. The fit was a bit slimmer than usual, and when he glanced at the tags on the waistband he understood why: the label read "Lady Adventure Petite". Resolving to kill his little brother slowly and painfully, he shrugged the light jacket over his black tank top and pulled protective gloves over the silicone sleeve he wore over his automail and his natural hand. Coiling his ponytail tightly, he shoved his mass of golden hair under a biker's bandana, then gave himself a once-over in the mirror. With his hair out of his face, his sharpish features were starkly detailed behind his rimless glasses with the hellishly expensive flexible temples. A few faint lines were etched around his tawny eyes—but that was Nature's only real concession to aging. Christ, I'm older than some of the trees out there.

Roy looked phenomenal for his age. Those muscles were as washboard-tight as they'd been when he was nineteen. Oh, there was the stray white hair, and laugh lines were starting to creep in a fraction around his keen black eyes, but other than that they appeared to be nearly the same age: about 35. I haven't changed much. He will, eventually. I won't give a shit, any more than Al did when Winry started to age—but what if I outlive him, the way Al outlived his wife?

It was a tricky issue that, so far, none of the Elric descendants had been able to deal with. Save for Alphonse and Winry, not one of their marriages had lasted. Sooner or later the aging issue got to be too worrisome and they split up. Teddy had at least a fighting chance, since Havoc knew the truth of Hohenheim's legacy to his descendants. But still—one day she'd be a seeming 40 year old, pushing her younger husband in a wheelchair—or laying him under the dirt, as her father had done with her mother. I want time to stop for a while. Let me love Taisa a few more decades—can't stand the thought of losing him…

No. NOT the sort of thing I ought to be worried about on the day before my wedding. No. Let's get up the mountain and check that fuckin' Portal Stone…and if it is working, maybe we can ask Heiderich about Fritz. He's not dead. He can't be. Al's first grandchild. Winry went fuckin' crazy when Fritz was born. And his namesake—old Lang—I still have that picture of him with little Fritz in his arms, not long before Lang died. Fritz and Izumi are both grandchildren, although so far apart in age…weird. People aren't supposed to live that long. Guess that's part of the price we gotta pay for our sins…yeah…

Swapping out his glasses for prescription shades, he slammed the door behind him, heading for the lobby. He was punching the elevator button for the lobby when a tallish man with a PRESS badge shouted "hold the elevator!" and Ed slapped the hold button impatiently.

"Thanks! Sheesh, this place is a mess. Can't find anything or anybody and the staff is about as useless as our current Commander in Chief."

Ed snorted with amusement. "Yeah…so what are you tryin' to find?"

"I heard Ed Elric is staying here. Want to interview him about the whole McDonald scandal."

"McDonald scandal? What the hell is that?"

"Story we broke with that Nathan Greene. He's big press right now, Miss. Comes from a big money family—the Elric Foundation. Wrote some kid's adventure story that got to be damn near big as Harry Potter in Japan—must have made a fortune off the franchising rights. Anyway, he was up here last year, got into a fight on video with this Busbee McDonald—the guy who said he could cure homosexuality?"

Ed pitched his voice a half-octave higher. "I read about him in The Advocate. Didn't he have a heart attack?"

"Welllll….technically. But with all this attention from the World Wildlife Warriors about animal abuse and the DEA investigating about the misuse of crystallized toad venom, there's a question about whether McDonald died naturally or if maybe Elric poisoned him with venom. Traces were found in his bloodstream and Elric was the last one to get into an altercation with him."

"Maybe that Elric guy just wanted to be alone with his lover," Ed suggested, praying he could get out of the elevator before this fool from the press corps noticed that the lesbian in the elevator had an Adam's apple…and a respectable bulge in the crotch of his too-tight cargo pants.

"Yeah, well…with the political situation heating up, might as well catch the human interest side—by the way, are you here for a wedding? We're looking for some side shots on the whole lesbian wedding craze. What would your girlfriend say if we asked to take some pictures of the ceremony?"

"She'd beat the crap out of you—oh, there she is! Trish! Trisha! Baby, where have you been??"

Ed shot out of the elevator, dove into his niece's arms and kissed her right on the mouth. "He thinks I'm a dyke—don't blow my cover!" he hissed.

"Hi there! Hunt's the name—Huntley Brinkley. FOX NEWS. Listen, we're doing some human interest stories down here at Hope Springs. Would you be willing---"

"Fuck off, mac. I wanna be alone with my wife." Hooking her arm around Ed's waist, she marched him off towards the door marked "LADIES", slamming it forcefully behind them.

"Caribbean days start early, mon," Paninya told Uncle Simon and Nigel as she refilled their cups with sweet, milky tea that was deliciously scented with cardamom and ginger. "Don't wanna waste the day, 'cause 'round three o'clock the heat starts to get to you. Wanna find a cool place to rest until around five—sixish. Then you want a cocktail, maybe a bite to eat. Don't start thinkin' about dinner till after nine."

"Sounds sensible to me—and this is genius, by the way. Never eaten cassava bread before." Nigel broke off another bite of the crumbly delight, crammed with dried cherries and chopped nuts.

"Yeah. Bringin' some island spice to the little gay boys come to get married here—you aren't like that beautiful Mr. Mustang, are you?"

"Me? Like Uncle Roy? No worries, darlin'. Straight up as me dad's pecker."

"Well, that be a relief—tho' I don't think he quite as queer as he makes out."

"What do you mean?" Simon asked.

"Well," Paninya looked around before leaning in close to dish the dirt. "You know that Miss Tricia. You seen her man. And I tell you—I may not have busted the top in math, but I do know that blonde-and-blue-eyes plus brunette-and-blue-eyes don't equal black-hair-and-slanted eyes. Seem to me that Mustang busted out of the rainbow stable and got himself some pussy."

Simon was not amused. "Miss Paninya, this is hardly anyone else's business—but for the record, little Izumi is adopted. Her natural mother is a young cousin of Roy's, and when he learned the child was going to be placed after birth he informed Miss Tricia and Mr. Havoc, who were very happy to welcome Izumi into their home. And I would consider it a kind favor if you would refrain from making inquisitive speculations about our family. Roy and Edward have waited a very long time for this wedding and I will not allow anyone or anything to ruin it for them. Do I make myself clear, ma'am?"

Paninya glanced above their heads and into the distance, smirking a little. "Oh, you don't need to worry about me flappin' my mouth, Mister Simon. It's them you gonna have to deal with."

"Who?"

"The rudeboys with the badges that say FOX NEWS, mon. The ones that lookin' for Little Rude Man Elric."

"WHAT??" Nigel inhaled a mouthful of cassava bread and Paninya began beating him on the back. "Bloody hell—what do they want with Ed?"

Paninya's smile was all gold capped teeth and malicious delight. "You not readin' the gossip colums, mon? It was all over cable. Big fat bastard came up here few years ago, mon named McDonald. He come up here to make the queerboys stop suckin' dick and start eatin' pussy. Had these big seminars—used to rent the whole place out, mon. Year ago, that sawed off lil' man Elric, he an' Mustang came up here. Wound up in McDonald's lecture by mistake. Got into an argument—next thing you know McDonald's dead on the floor with his dick in his hand, you know? And Mustang's all pissed, say he leavin' Ed and get me a goddamned chopper outa here. Little Dick Elric, he come back, then he an' Mustang haul ass off the island on de same chopper has McDonald's body tied on the rack outside.

"Fella named Greene been on CNN an' FOX NEWS, tellin' everyone he think Ol' McDonald bought the farm at the hands of a certain runt who got himself in de news a few weeks getting' fucked by a ghost in some haunted hotel in Charleston. FOX NEWS gonna do a feature on the war with Jamaica—they find out that Elric be down here, getting' hitched to his lover—so they down here with bells on to do a scoop on him. If they can make it look like McDonald been murdered, they got one more reason to close me down, since the heat be on me already."

Simon and Nigel stared at one another in disbelief. "Load of codswallop, you ask me," Nigel muttered darkly. "And whatd'ya mean 'one more reason to close me down'?"
As if to answer his query, every window outside was splashed with red paint as if on cue as a crowd began chanting outside La Grenouille:

Two-four-six-eight

Keep those tree frogs off the plate!

Show compassion—show some class

Don't pour toadies in a glass

Set 'em free to catch their flies

Don't serve 'em with a side of fries!

"PANINYA ! THE WORLD WILDLIFE WARRIORS FIND YOU GUILTY OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS! WE ORDER YOU TO IMMEDIATELY CEASE AND DESIST SERVING DRINKS BLENDED WITH LIVE FROGS AND WITH THE COVERT EXPORTATION OF EXTRACTED TOAD VENOM—"

"What the hell—Miss Paninya, is this true? My god, that's appalling!" Uncle Simon bolted out of his chair. "Nigel! We're leaving! Why…I'd rather eat at…McDonald's…than to let this…blood profiteer…make one more penny from the suffering of innocent animals."
Nigel hesitated for a moment, then stuffed the last of the cassava bread in his pocket before blowing a kiss to the lovely—and seriously pissed—Ms. St. Dominic. "Sorry, darlin'. Let me know if you need bailing out—we've got a lawyer in the family!"

Simon jammed his new Panama hat onto his balding head—and walked straight into the prettiest Amazon he'd ever seen. She was tall. She was blond. She had a Glock pointed right between his eyes. "Freeze, scumbag! You too," she gestured towards Nigel. "Agent Hawkeye—DEA. What are you doing here?"

Nigel raised his hands, one of which held the last wedge of cassava bread. "Just came in for breakfast. Then somebody started throwing paint at the windows and—you know. Just don't shoot us, doll."

"And as a matter of fact, once I heard what they were chanting I told my nephew here that we didn't want any part of this restaurant if they're actually throwing live frogs in the blender to make Croaka-Cola. If you want to question somebody—" he gestured behind him, "I'd suggest beginning with her. Good day, Ma'am!"

"'Good day' my ass—get 'em, men!"

Forty-five minutes later, as Uncle Simon and Dr. Nigel Rogers were handcuffed together and bouncing painfully over the ruts of the unpaved jungle road towards Port Norman, a second Dr. Nigel appeared at the Hope Springs nursery and presented a set of credentials obtained when Gluttony broke into the good doctor's room minutes after the real Nigel Rogers was hauled off with his uncle. "Good morning! I'm Dr. Rogers. Nurse Greene told you I was coming to pick up Izumi Elric, correct?"

The receptionist smiled. "She's a lucky little girl to have a pediatrician in the family."

"Not that she's a challenge—a very healthy little girl. Her mother and father are going on the zip line this morning and we decided to give her nanny a spa day. I told Tricia and Jean-Remy that I'd love to look after her since I live in Australia and don't get as much time with her as I'd like."

"That's fine—and everything seems in order. Miss Izumi is in crèche nine, and has already had her bath and breakfast. I'll get her diaper bag out of the check-in and then you'll be all set. Do you have plans for the day?"

"Oh…yes…big plans….very big…"

"Al? Do a head count!"

"Teddy and Remy?"

"Ici!"

"Jeanne-Marie and Edwin?"

"We're here, cher."

"Mays, you're with me. And Ed and Taisa are together. All present."

Ed examined his checklist. "Okay. Izumi's in the nursery. Ai is at the spa center. And Nigel and Uncle Simon are on one of the fishing charters. Everybody's accounted for. Remy, you got our gear?"

"Oui. Harnesses, ropes, safety helmets and gloves."

"Teddy! Got our provisions?"

"Sandwiches, power bars—glucose tablets for Taisa—"

"---I've got extras—"

"—I know, but it's good to have backups. Got some of that sweet cassava bread for dessert. Mays and Daddy have the bottled water in their packs."

"Jeanne-Marie?"

"First aid kit. Remy got backups."

"Good. Communications gear?"

Edwin raised his hand. "Camcorder. Digital and film cameras. iPod and mics for sound. And I've got a sketchbook too."

"Everybody got cell phones?"

"YES!"

"Right…but what you don't have," Ed dug into his own pack, "are these." Ed handed each of them a slim, sealed envelope.

Teddy recognized them at once. "Edo—these are the ones we took to Amestris last time, right?"

"Yeah. And I want 'em back—unopened. "

"What are they?" Edwin wanted to know.

All eyes turned towards Edward, who colored slightly. "All right. These letters are from me. Private stuff you need to know if I die—or if you get stuck on the other side.

And one thing more—everybody got their passports?"

"What do we need our passports for?" Mays asked.

"If somebody gets stuck in Amestris, this will provide identification to the current government. If President Hawkeye kept her promise to Al, then there are records of his and Teddy's last trip through, when they arrived in 1951—and found the Colonel."

"I also have this." Taisa pulled the broken Portal Stone fragment that Win-Sarah and her brother had prized out of the walkway of the Battery Carriage House.

"Taisa—what the hell are you doing with that thing?" Ed barked.

"We might be able to send it back," his lover explained patiently. "Safer to have it in Amestris, since there are no Elrics there anymore to use it."

Ed nodded. It made sense. "Okay, people—We did the zipline drill yesterday. We'll take the bus up to the line and head for the canopy. We'll take a break at the halfway point—and do not take your gear off! And keep your helmets on or you'll lose your hair like Taisa did. If he hadn't had a knife—oh, right, shit! I forgot. Weapons. Who's armed?"

The two Havocs patted their belts. "I've…got pepper spray," Hughes offered sheepishly.

"That's about as useful against a homunculus as a can of Deep Woods Off," Ed snorted.

"Got that too."

"And I'll give you a merit badge when we get back in the states, Mister Eagle Scout. Okay, people," Ed nodded briefly. "Let's roll!"

AMESTRIS—PRESENT DAY

Hohenheim's stone had been moved to the Elric exhibit that morning, scrubbed clean and positioned behind the velvet ropes for optimal photo opportunities. Skinning under the barrier, Josh Tringham checked for guards. Then he dug in his pocket for the strange Lazurite stone, mounted in silver and gold, which he'd found among the boxed odds and ends from Mustang's Lair in Brigg's Mountain.

"All right," he muttered to the Stone as he laid the pendant against its cool, opaque surface. "Let's see what happens if you touch…"

"CRAPSHITFUCKMOTHERPISSGODDAMN!"

Josh Tringham jerked back in alarm as the security guard rounded the corner. "Hey kid! What the hell are you doing!" the guard growled.

"Found a wad of gum stuck to the array stone. Just picking it out." Turning his back for a moment, Josh spat a wad of spearmint into his hand, whipped around and then held it out for inspection. "Somebody's got a shitty sense of humor."

The guard grimaced and handed Josh a tissue. "I'll toss it for you. Y'know, you've been pretty good about this job here, kid. Thinkin' about coming to work here after you graduate?"

"Yeah…actually. I mean, my family's into green alchemy, but the history part is pretty cool."

"Yeah. And it's part of my family's history. That's why I took this job. My granddad used to work for General Mustang. Said he would have laid down his life for his men. Granddad would have been proud."

Josh was curious. "Who was he?"

"Heymans Breda. He was a military strategist, but he made his fortune designing games for us. He's the one who made—"

"—Castles and Chimeras. Yeah. Lived a long time, but man, he lived, ya know? He was the greatest. Mustang never once beat him at chess, but he came damned close."

The guard examined him closely. "How the hell did you know that?"

Josh looked embarrassed. "Worked on a project about Mustang for Dickerson. Read up on Mustang's team and recognized your grandfather's name. I play C & C online. Have a 15th level water alchemist. I'm on Server Argo---we play Monday nights when school's in session."

"I'm on Server Gambit. I play a chimera. Stop by some night."

Josh nodded. "Same to you. Okay if I finish up here?"

"Yeah. Fine. Holler if you need anything."

"Yeah. See ya."

Josh had to run and pee he was so terrified.

What the fuck am I doing? he thought frantically, rinsing his hands in the washroom. I don't wanna get busted again. Not when my grades are finally getting better and the old man's not ragging my ass over every damn thing.

But the lure of that carved stone was more than he could resist. That's a doorway to another Amestris…the door the Colonel went through when he died. And Alphonse Elric actually used this stone. THE Alphonse. Fullmetal's genius brother, the one who could split his soul apart, conjure the wind and water—some say he was more powerful than his older brother. And then there was the Spiral Alchemist—Al's daughter. She was like me—a raw beginner—until Mustang made her prove herself. And he made provisions for her as his disciple. If she showed up, she could take everything out of the exhibit as her right, since he left it to her. Wonder if any of her disciples are alive on the otherside?

And what about the Elric brothers? Did Fullmetal ever find the Colonel on the Otherside?

Well…there was only one way to find out.

Ducking back under the barrier ropes, Josh took a deep breath and poked the lazulite stone into a crevice in the middle of the stone. The ladder beneath him shifted.

His right arm slid inside the stone, right up to his armpit.

Struggling for balance, he grabbed frantically for support.

His fingers found something warm and firm—a shoulder. They spasmed and gripped instinctively as the ladder began to rock dangerously.

It wasn't the nine foot drop that knocked the wind out of him. It was being flattened by the stranger who landed on top of him…the stranger who came out of the stone…

…TO BE CONTINUED…