Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist isn't mine. I do wish it was.
Summary: Roy meets his new "sisters" and proves that he can act like a four year old.
Warnings: Um, little spoilers from the FMA chapters in the 60's, I guess. Or FMA: Brotherhood episode 31.
Characters: Roy, Chris, and a minor character by the name of Vanessa who appears in the above chapter/episode.
Author's Note: I know I told one of my reviewers (you guys are awesome, btw) that I'd have this up by Thursday, but various events happened that made me not in the mood to write. So I posted it now. As of the time of typing this, my clock still says it's Saturday, so I'm not too off:) Anyway, this one should be much lighter than the previous chapters. I tried to make it humorous. I hope I succeeded. Also, Vanessa is a real named person. The other girls are not, and any parallels you see between all of Roy's "sisters" and canon characters are deliberate, and will come into play later on. Thank you, enjoy, and review, please.
Chapter 3
With the funeral and the train ride back to Central over, all Chris Mustang wanted to do was settle Roy into his new room in Madame Hari's and go to bed. However, their arrival in the hostess bar coincided with the household's lunch, which unceremoniously introduced poor Roy to his new sisters.
Four--now five--children lived in Madame Hari's little club. The four girls ranged in age from six to eight, and worked together to bring to fruition their little schemes. One day the girls would be perfect as intelligence collectors.
Brenna, the eight year old, was the leader and the plotter. She was of middle height for her age and round-shouldered. A mass of untamed fire red curls hung to her shoulders, framing a deceptively innocent face.
Vanessa, at age seven, was the one in charge of remembering the details. Her light brown hair was straight and she was tall and gawky.
Her younger half-sister Kate was dark-haired, and more closely resembled the girls' shared mother than did her older sister in her round face and petite frame. Kate's role--a role usually forced upon her--in their misdeeds was collecting the information, which she did by listening at keyholes and scampering up the stairs when the people on the other side came too close.
The last little girl was also six, pretty little Jacqueline with her wheat-yellow hair and big blue eyes. The other girls called her Jackie, and her job was to talk them all out of trouble with her inherent charm.
Currently, the four of them were standing in a half-circle around Roy, staring at the boy with curious expressions. Roy, for his part, looked rather panicked: Chris wasn't sure if the boy had ever seen so many girls in one place before in his life.
Suddenly, Jackie let out an eager squeal, and before any of the women--and Roy--had time to blink the girl had the poor boy's wrist in a python's grip and was dragging him upstairs. The other three followed, giggling to themselves. Roy cast his aunt a silent plea for rescue, but Chris only waved at him as the five of them vanished up the stairs.
The women sitting around the room were giggling almost as much as the little girls, but Madame Hari was not. Her mouth folded into a frown, and those emerald eyes flashing, the proprietor beckoned imperiously for Chris to follow her into her office. She had no choice but to obey.
"Well, Chris?" asked Hari when the door had shut behind them. "When you said you had to go to East City to take care of a family emergency, I wasn't expecting you to bring back a four year old boy."
Chris frowned. Neither was she. "He's my nephew."
"Family emergency didn't go well, I take it?" The Madame was gruff, but slightly more sympathetic. It was the closest she ever came to an actual apology. Chris shook her head.
"His parents died in a car accident. I'm the only family he has."
"What about his mother?"
Chris shrugged. "She was Xingese, but I don't know if she has any living family, or any family that would be willing to take in her son, even if they were."
"Well, then," Hari responded. "This changes things."
"How so, Madame?"
Hari stood up from her desk and began to pace the room. "I was hoping you would take over this place when I retire. You know this; we've discussed this before."
"Yes. Roy shouldn't change that. Three of the other girls have children."
"None of them are boys."
"That shouldn't matter, Madame."
Hari shook her head. "It does. The little girls can be used. In time, they can take their mothers' places. Your little Roy cannot."
Chris shook her head. She had thought about this before. She could do this. "But think of the possibilities with him, Madame. What other place in Amestris could he gain a better insight on other people than here? He's a very bright boy; given the proper teachings he could become an influential figure in the country."
Madame Hari smiled. "And in time, a very powerful man would be in a position to make good on his debts. You've thought this through."
Chris gave a wry smile. "And in the meantime, Roy can gain a little bit of information about the Central underworld. More men would be willing to talk in front of a boy than a girl, under the guise of giving some...male advice."
Hari laughed loudly. "You make a good case for him, Chris. Now, let's go rescue your poor nephew from the clutches of Brenna and her little gang of imps."
As it turned out, they didn't have to search for very long to find Roy. As soon as both women put a foot on the stairs, he came barreling down between them, rolled under a table, and put the legs of the chair between him and the stairs.
"Roy?" asked Chris. She came closer to him, looking at him curiously. Upon examination, he appeared to be wearing what looked like Brenna's play make-up, and he certainly smelled fresher than he did when the girls had dragged him upstairs.
"Aunty, don't let them get me!"
Chris would often look back on that statement in the years to come and wonder how she managed to keep a straight face. The panic in his eyes was so real that she had to wonder if monsters rather than small girls were coming down the stairs after him.
"There you are, Roy!" That high-pitched, cheerful voice was Jackie's, who was apparently their emissary. Chris thought they would have been better off with Kate, but convincing the shy girl to do anything took all exertions of sisterly force, and Vanessa currently had Kate by the back of her dress to prevent her from bolting back up the stairs.
"Hello, Jackie," gulped Roy. He backed up slowly on his hands and knees, making his way out from under the table, but also closer to the establishment's door.
"We were just wondering," continued Jackie as though Roy were not moving steadily closer to freedom. "why you left so quickly."
Roy was out from under the table now, and his voice sounded a little muffled when he replied, "I'm not so good at girly stuff." He must have been even with the tablecloth.
"You never know until you try," interjected Brenna. The oldest girl's eyes were following his path toward the door with raised eyebrows.
Roy was standing now. His eyes could be seen over the top of the table. "I did try, and now I know for sure that I'm not so good at girly stuff. So if you don't mind, I'm going to do boy things now."
And without another word, and before anyone in the room could stop him, he turned and sprinted out of the door onto the street.
Chris swore under her breath. Boy things, he said. Little boys liked to get dirty, and the rain that had fallen on his parents' funeral had proceeded them to Central. The little dirt plot around the front door was now muddy.
Chris ran to the window, and sure enough, Roy Mustang had done the classic stop-drop-and-roll into the mud. He sat up, grinning, and looked around.
Chris swore again.
About a year before, the lamppost outside had been removed and replaced with string lights on the awning. The hole had never been filled in, and it tended to fill with slop in the rain. Roy had now discovered this hole, and his face brightened.
The little boy reached a hand in the hole and pulled out a handful of the slop. With a broad grin, and before Chris could even pull herself away from the window to reach the door to stop him, he smeared the foul gunk all over his face like warpaint.
From the window of the door she could see him look again, and this time those adorable dark eyes locked on something else. Something large, moist, and brown sitting on the side of the road where horses were usually stopped at on this street.
"Not in a million years, Roy Mustang," Chris shouted, finally pulling the door open. She grabbed him by his collar and yanked him inside before he could smear a handful of that all over his face. "You will not come into this place smelling like something that came from the rear-end of a Clydesdale!"
Roy looked up at her, mud handprints all over his face and beaming like he'd done the most wonderful thing in the world. "But Aunty, there wasn't enough of it to be from a Clydesdale, so it's okay!"
This was not happening. Her brother did not mention once during her visit last year that his son had inherited the ability to twist anything anyone said to his advantage. Where did he get it from? Neither of his parents was ever that smart.
With a huff of air, she collared him again and dragged him upstairs for a bath. They never did finish that conversation, thank God.
That little incident would come back into Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang's mind as he sat with Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye on a little wagon being pulled by a draft horse in the town of Resembool. He had no idea why.
Secondary Author's Note: Look, it's Riza Hawkeye! She finally got a mention! Of course, in this time in Roy's life, she's maybe three, so I suppose it makes sense to not have her around. Yet:) I love Royai, if you haven't guessed.