Disclaimer in previous chapters. Please see Author's Notes at the end.

- x -

"Not everything changes, you know."

Ed didn't pick his chin up off his knee as a faded but clean white apron entered his peripheral vision. It was a long time before the sweet scent of the burning, spiced tobacco reached him, and in that time, he didn't hear her shift again.

She was getting old.

It must have happened when they were gone, he reflected. Because he knew, even as a child, that he was always more frightened of her than he was of Winry. Though the woman was shorter even than he, and had never struck him out of malice, never threatened him with any sincerity, never even spoke a serious sharp word to him, he was terrified of disappointing her.

In many ways, she was the best guardian he could have hoped for.

But now Aunt Pinako, or Granny Pinako, or the flea-sized hag, or the 'Panthress of Resembool,' or just Rockbell, she wasn't the same size, somehow.

Oh, she'd gotten a little more stooped, perhaps. While it might feel like a lifetime, he'd last spent a serious amount of time in her home a little more than six years ago. Not so long.

Not so long for a woman as large as little Aunt Pinako to have gotten so approachable.

Maybe it was because he was taller.

More likely, it was because he was grown, and now she was treating him like an adult. He'd always thought, even at thirteen, that she'd treated him like an adult, but after these couple weeks, he knew the error of his ways.

She was treating him the way he remembered her treating Hohenheim. Only not as distant, maybe. Maybe like a son.

And she'd always done that.

"You've gotten quiet, Ed," she observed, and he listened to the soft, familiar sound of her taking a drag from the narrow neck of her pipe. Last night, as he'd lain in bed, he'd heard another familiar sound, the one of a small, heavy glass clinking on the table.

She was right.

Not everything had changed.

"I could never figure out how you could drink so much and still be up bright and early to see us off," he spoke at the breaking dawn. "It never occurred to me you just weren't going to bed."

Those hills, for instance. He'd stared at them, from this same porch step, over a hundred times. Sure, there were more houses dotting the hill, but not many. A great swath of the woods had been cut back, but it still ringed the tops and reminded him a little bit of an older man starting to go bald.

There would be a time when he'd sit on this step, and there'd be no woods left. The morning would be streaked with unbelievable oranges and reds, but they wouldn't be a product of the sunlight and the morning air.

They'd be caused by light refracting off all the aerosol debris in the air, the carbon dioxide and the sulfur monoxide. All of the pollutants the great belching form of industrialization would spew into the air in the name of progress.

There was no stopping that. Central had had the combustion engine since before he was born, and trains even before that. They didn't move as quickly; this world wasn't as dependant on mechanics for progress partly because of alchemy.

Partly because large numbers of people, libraries, entire ways of life were consumed in a single evening to produce a lone, many-faceted red crystal.

But saying that more had died here than there, that was ridiculous. There just weren't as many people, somehow. Life here was still slower, for no other reason that it didn't seem to be in such a hurry.

He missed that bustle on mornings like this. When all he could do was watch the sun rising, vanquishing the unfamiliar stars and shining deep into his brain in an attempt to blind all his whirling thoughts into silence.

"You could have joined me," she noted dryly.

Ed smiled slightly. "My first hangover was at fourteen. I've totaled three, and I think that's a pretty fair number. I may be 'full metal,' but I think you've got me beat with sheer experience."

"Ah, so it does talk," Pinako murmured to herself, a small amount of approval tingeing her slightly raspy voice.

Still she stood at his side, silently, and he took deep, secret breaths of the smoke of her pipe, and let it lull his restless brain into stillness.

Funny that she didn't berate him for getting drunk with Mustang's men at such a young age. Then again, maybe she'd beaten him there, too. Or maybe she'd just expected it. Not that he'd ever used alcohol to hide from his demons, but that he would experiment with it, like anyone else, in an effort to see what the appeal was.

The appeal was that it could be transmuted into all sorts of interesting things.

He'd have to take Al drinking again, now that they were back in this world. He'd missed out of the fun of sabotaging drink coasters and watching the ensuing hilarity.

The small smile returned as he thought of Al, still up in their room. He wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, exactly. In fact, it could be said that he was following a routine that had been a part of him for as long as he'd had his body back. Smoothing the wrinkles from his clothes, pulling back his hair, and a thousand other tiny little rituals that everyone else took for granted.

Al enjoyed them, every morning, just as Ed was enjoying sitting on the porch with Pinako. As though such commonplace, trivial things were as special as the rare ones.

Somewhere along the way, his brother had gotten a sense of style. He didn't know exactly when Al had had the chance to absorb it, after all. He'd had his clothes picked out by mom until she died, then he'd been shoved into a single suit of armor for a few years, and once he did have his body back, he'd superimposed the image of his barely remembered older brother onto himself. They'd ended up in Europe, and worn the same work clothes day in and day out before exchanging those for a government issue uniform.

Of course, the color scheme he'd picked reminded Ed of their father, but if Al wanted to look like Pops, that was fine with him.

To give Al credit, the resemblance really did end at the colors. Pinako had a client who was a master tailor, and just happened to stop by the shop last week to get some adjustments. Once he'd heard who her guests were, and their situation, he had stayed for two days to make the 'famous Elric brothers' proper sets of clothes.

Proper, in his case, was a black tunic beneath a white-trimmed black jacket. His ebony trousers sported a few extra pockets, but the red overcoat was unchanged. The town cobbler hadn't forgotten how to make his boots, either; he'd put something new in the soles, though. Felt like they'd last longer, and absorbed more shock.

Good for walking in.

And he ached to try them out. Walk down to the station, catch a train to Central, and start working. Start giving this brain of his something to play with besides the last month's worth of memories. Stop constantly wondering what it all meant. What to do now. Where to go.

How to go.

Al didn't seem to be having quite the same problem. He'd made peace with the last few weeks, or if he hadn't, he was hiding it well. It really wasn't fair to think it like that, either; this had to be just as frightening for Al. He'd said he was terrified, but people swallowed by terror didn't usually whistle old Russian folk tunes as they brushed down their hiking shoes the night before a journey.

This really was a new beginning for his brother. This was the first time, on this world at least, that Al could be himself. He could be Alphonse Elric. He wasn't Fletcher Tringham, youngest son of a simple merchant from Hamburg. And he wasn't merely Edward Elric's little brother anymore, not with that National Alchemist title that had been posthumously stabbed into his back by Mustang. He wasn't the spitting image of the famous brother he lost anymore.

And he wasn't the spitting image of his infamous father, either. His button-up shirts were cream, but with a wide collar, open at the neck and making him look very approachable. The tea-colored vests were equally well-designed, and could be both casual or formidable, depending on how he wore them. His trousers weren't that different from Ed's own, and the matching, medium brown overcoat was completely unlike their father's overly-dandy apparel. It was made of a weather-resistant material, good for carrying things and keeping a body warm on a cold night.

Al's clothes were built for travel, like his, and they'd been made well. They'd last a long time if they were careful with them.

They'd need to put in a good word regarding their tailor, if anyone asked.

He was anticipating a less . . . dignified welcome. He could almost hear the shouts of the enlisted men. Oh, he looks just like he did before, how cute! Look, his little brother is still taller than he is! I bet he's still wearing the same automail!

"Don't look so evil early in the morning," Pinako reprimanded, and Ed's smirk devolved into a full grin.

"Just thinking about later," he explained easily, uncurling his legs so that they were extended, and resting a couple stairs below the rest of him. Then he leaned back on his elbows and let his head fall back onto his shoulders.

His right shoulder wouldn't relax quite as far as it used to, and he shook his head as he sat up properly.

"That armor going to work out?"

Funny, her asking that when she'd helped Winry design and produce it. "I think so." He held up his right hand, flexing his real fingers inside the metal. He'd spent the better part of the last week and a half training in it, running sensei's basic forms over and over and over again. That had been good; it had centered him, kept his mind focused on only the motion. He still wasn't looking forward to his first combat situation in them, though.

Winry padded it as well as she could, but the fact was that there was very little metal and insulation between a sword blade and his actual flesh. The alloy would stand up to it, but his actual arm was going to take the majority of the strike in that case. The bionics would allow him to keep fighting even if the arm inside was broken or crushed, which was a plus, but the idea that when he damaged it, it was actually going to hurt . . .

Things did change.

He held the limb out in front of him, pointing his palm at the rising sun and admiring the back of the forearm. She'd thickened the armor there significantly, to give him enough material to transmute without weakening it too badly.

Winry really had thought of everything.

He'd need to thank her for this.

Ed dropped the limb onto his lap, watching the first bright portion of the sun peeking over the line of trees. It was bright, and the light began to warm his face a little.

"Funny how I finally got it back, and now I'm stuffing it into automail," he added. Pinako just snorted.

"Automail's better anyway. Thinking about replacing my own hip."

He glanced at her, finally, not quite sure she was kidding, and a quick assessment of her expression didn't clear up the question. She was staring at the rising sun as well, and the two of them didn't so much as jump when a terrific clang rang through the early morning.

The quiet muttering of Al, probably apologizing, eventually emerged from the house, and after a few moments the front door creaked on too-stressed hinges. Ed turned back to the sun, trying to gauge the time.

Al had always been better at telling time by the sun. Probably because as a suit of armor he could stare at it all day long without risking any damage to his eyes.

"That about it?"

There was the raspy sound of a new suitcase being placed on the porch, followed by vertebrae popping as his brother stretched. "Should be."

Pinako had been standing as Ed knew she would be, her hands clasped behind her back and her pipe firmly gripped between her teeth. She finally brought one arm in front of her to grasp the pipe's bowl, and her voice was less distorted when she spoke again.

"Behave. An occasional call would be nice. I packed your lunch." She thrust her chin at Al's feet, where a nice basket lay next to Ed's new suitcase. "Have a good trip."

Ed took one last, deep breath of the pipe smoke before he stood, rather lazily, and glanced around. Den had been keeping him company for the last half-hour or so, and despite the graying muzzle and the obvious toll the years had taken on his form, he still got to his feet as well, shaking off the morning dew that had collected on his coat before wandering over to this new, tall man in the brown coat and giving him a good sniff.

Den apparently approved, at any rate, because he gave a half-hearted but deep-chested woof before trotting off the porch to go christen one of the bushes in the yard as a farewell gesture.

Of all the things that remained the same, that was one of the few Ed could do without. Apparently Den only did it when they visited, which seemed very weird. Like he was showing off that this was his turf to the other automail dog that had wandered up.

Argh. It was probably going to be harder to drag Mustang into a fight these days, since he'd have guards on him at all times. What a pain.

"So let's go." He reached across the porch to pick up his suitcase, as Al embraced Aunt Pinako.

"Thanks for everything," he mumbled into her shoulder, and the old woman just patted his arm.

"Visit once in a while. That apple pie Winry made for you wasn't so bad."

Al laughed, and grabbed both his suitcase and the basket. Ed waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs for him to catch up, and Den brushed against his left leg before getting an affectionate rub from Al. His brother stopped at his side, and the two of them looked back over their shoulders to see Winry waiting in the door.

Al had probably already said his goodbye, seeing as she was remaining in the doorframe.

Ed just shook his head slightly, and turned for the road. They hadn't mentioned that conversation again, not during meals, the refittings, the training . . . He didn't know what she and Al had talked about in the twenty or so minutes they'd been down in the basement, and no amount of beating his brother had gotten him more details. Al said that she'd called him stupid, and he'd agreed, and that had been that. A little news about Central, a brief history of what had happened in Amestris since they'd left, and of course, that last little gift Mustang had put into place, should they ever return –

He'd probably done it so Al couldn't use the practical as an excuse to clobber him. If Ed couldn't all those years ago, at least Al was still better at hand-to-hand, and now he had that neat wind trick up his sleeve.

Al was already walking, waving one hand in the air as he started the long trek back to the train station. That road, it hadn't changed much either. The little bits of gravel had gotten a bit more packed down, like someone in town had gotten a car, but they were the same pieces of rock that had been on that path for as long as he'd run down it. Many of their journeys had started on this road, for better or worse. He still recalled the number of steps it took to get to the train station.

Of course, his stride was longer now. He was going to have to count them again.

Ed jammed his free hand into his pocket, and he waited.

It didn't take Al long to figure out he wasn't following, and his brother spun on his heel, backing up a few more steps before he stopped. His look was curious, but he didn't say anything.

And nothing else happened.

Ed sighed, and looked back over his shoulder again. "Winry, we're going to miss the train."

The sun was directly in front of him, but though he was turned, the halo it had created still partially blinded him. She was shadowed in the doorway, and he couldn't read her expression, but it didn't take long before he heard her voice.

"So go already. No sparring," she added. "Not even a little."

He set the suitcase down in the road, and turned so that he could more easily see her.

"Stupid, like we'd spar on a train. Get a move on. Next one's not till this afternoon, and it'll make us late for the inauguration."

Another silence. Damn, she wasn't quick in the mornings, was she. He was going to have to phrase it as an invitation, and Al was going to give him a hard enough time as it was –

"-oh," she said, and then she disappeared into the house.

Gravel crunched to his right, and Al set his luggage and the basket down beside Ed's again. Pinako didn't appear moved by the sudden change in plans, just stood there with her round-lensed glasses reflecting the perfect morning back at them.

She'd seen governments come and go, so she wouldn't come with them even if they asked. And Winry wasn't going to be too keen to see Mustang up there, leading the country. But at least she'd see him take that seat standing next to them.

Not behind them. Not waiting.

No point in starting a new journey by making an old mistake.

There was a heavy sound from the house, followed by expletives, and the phrases 'inconsiderate' and 'no time to pack,' were just loud enough that they could hear there was no venom in them.

He'd been right about the metallic crash; she had been packing a spare set of armor for him. Probably just leaving it by the door so she could grab it on her way out, when he called her to say he'd busted it up. It wouldn't be that hard to transmute except for all the little pistons and things in it. Al had suggested, if that happened, he should just say he transmuted it into real limbs using the Philosopher's Stone.

Al was sometimes under the impression that he was funnier than he really was.

But he didn't say anything smart, he just stood there silently as they listened to her rummaging around the house. When he finally took a breath to speak, Ed braced himself for the inevitable joke.

"We really might miss the train, you know."

Ed leaned all his weight on his armored leg, testing the balance again. "I know."

" . . .she's probably going to ask if we're paying."

Ed sighed. "I wonder if my accounts are still intact."

"They're not."

Ed glanced at his younger brother, and received a toothy grin in response. "Mustang emptied them and gave them to last of kin."

Ed contemplated taking back his promise not to spar with Al. "You spent my money?"

"It wasn't like I had research money just handed to me by the State! Besides, you weren't using it."

"So how are we paying for the tickets?"

Al toed a piece of gravel. "Gee, doesn't that look like currency to you, brother?"

"I think it would look a lot better if the iron content were higher. Care to give a little blood for the cause?"

- x -

"What a zoo."

The dark-haired woman at his side just rolled her eyes, already standing on the balls of her feet in an effort to see over the crowd. He was beginning to wonder if they shouldn't have just sent for Armstrong and been done with it. If that guy couldn't see over the crowds, he'd certainly be able to clear them.

Then again, while he was technically still in the military, as a National Alchemist, he hadn't been in a uniform more than a handful of times in the past six or so years. Maybe five, actually . . . he couldn't really remember if Armstrong had bailed at the same time or after Mustang had.

Then again, his discharge hadn't been a full one, really. He'd recertified right after Parliament had started changing the National Alchemist requirements, and he was able to keep the certification without serving the military. He hadn't gotten a research stipend, but his family was filthy rich, so he didn't really care. He kept the title, which was really all he cared about. The rest of his family were all decorated generals, so rather than sully their name by being unable to be promoted, he was able to bring them pride by being one of the famed State Alchemists.

And neither an Armstrong nor a famed State Alchemist would've been shoved through the crowd on a busy platform while he was trying to find a relatively short man and his brother.

. . . who were both State Alchemists . . .

Denny Brosh reached out and gently secured the arm of his partner. "I have an idea."

First Lieutenant Maria Ross allowed herself to be pulled out of traffic, and Denny maneuvered them over to a lamppost that happened to be protecting a crate in its lee.

"Ed doesn't do crowds. See if you can find an island in this mess, and it'll be him."

She just nodded, using her shoulder to assist in levering herself up onto the tall crate. He watched her systematically search the sea of people, one slender hand shading her eyes from the glare coming off the open end of the platform.

It was very early afternoon, about three hours before the inauguration was to take place, and the noisily unloading train was the first of three that would have stopped by Resembool. They really weren't sure which train Ed and Al would have taken, but knowing how stir-crazy Ed used to get during downtime, he was betting it was this one. The question was whether or not anyone had told Al he was supposed to come along. He supposed it wasn't a sure bet the brothers would stick together as closely as they had, but he just couldn't imagine that one would show up without the other.

A particularly burly and sour-smelling man nearly bowled him over, without so much as a grunt, and the Master Sergeant reminded himself mentally that it was just for the day, maybe two, before there was breathing space in Central again. This congestion could have been handled better, but notice had been extremely short. After taking criticism for dragging their feet on everything else, and the uranium bomb fiasco increasing hostilities on the borders, the ceremony was occurring just days after the vote was in. It hadn't given Amestris much time to arrange the parade grounds or the city transportation for the sudden inrush of citizens.

And it didn't give the new Prime Minister much time to tie up his other affairs, but then again, Mustang had been preparing for this day for nearly a decade.

And for his part, Denny was okay with shouldering a bit more of the Major General's work. After all, today was the day Mustang was going to announce all the women in the military would have to wear miniskirts. And if this had happened three days ago, then Maria would have been on that crate in her new uniform, and if she had been, he'd have seen all the way up to her –

"Edward! Alphonse!"

She waved merrily, then hopped down and started off through the crowd without a second look.

Typical.

Denny followed her as closely as possible, and very soon the crowd thinned to expose a thunderous glare, topped with blonde hair pulled back in a braid, nesting on top of a familiar-looking red overcoat –

The sergeant major would have stopped in surprise if he had had room to do so.

The man walking towards them was almost unrelated to the Edward Elric that had appeared in the hallway.

He looked like Ed, but not. He was taller, noticeably now that he was dressed like his old self, and more filled out without looking any less . . . lean. Not wiry, more sort of coiled. He was wearing the same familiar expression of extreme irritation, though, which was causing everyone but his two companions to give him more than enough elbow room.

Alphonse looked nothing like he'd looked in the hallway, either. His smiling face had some color now, and his darker blonde hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. The stubble was still there, and it made him look so much more grown up. Of course, he'd be around twenty-two, now, so he was grown up –

Brosh tried not to look disapproving when the first lieutenant allowed herself to be swept into a hug.

Beside Edward was his automail mechanic, Winry Rockbell. That was a surprise; were there problems with Ed's fake automail? She didn't seem overly concerned about it, though, and was gazing around her at the bustle and activity with interest. He'd seen her very briefly when she'd stopped by the offices about three weeks ago, and she, at least, looked exactly the same. He maneuvered around the circle to take her suitcase, which she allowed him to do.

"Oh, thanks very much!"

"Did you have a good trip?"

She nodded as the five of them continued towards the opposite side of the platform. It was hard to talk over the crowd, but Maria and Al seemed to be deep in conversation by the time they all emerged onto the sunlit streets of Central.

It was fairly busy in front of the terminal, but as they had been sent to pick up very important guests, they had been allowed to park the military car right in front of the station. Denny took the keys from the private that had been keeping an eye on it, and in no time luggage was stowed in the back and he was easing away from the curb into traffic.

"It's going to take us a while to get there," he said apologetically, waving a hand at the stopped cars in front of them. "Did you get a chance to eat yet?"

"Yes, Aunt Pinako packed us lunch," Alphonse replied, studying the view from the passenger window. Edward was directly behind him, with Winry in the middle and Maria behind the driver. "You'd think she knew three of us were going when she did it, too –"

"No, she just remembered how much Ed used to eat," Winry retorted. "Glad to see he's outgrown that."

"You haven't seen him in front of a plate of kaiserschmarrn. And he ate three pieces of my pie last night."

Ed took the ribbing good-naturedly. "It even had heavy cream on it. That's a milk product. Aren't you proud?"

Maria Ross laughed. "If I recall correctly, you used to voluntarily eat cheese as a child. That's a milk product too."

"And stew," Ed agreed. "Actually, in London there was a little tea shop that would flavor milk with fruit juice, and that wasn't too terrible."

"So that's why you got taller!"

Denny glanced in the rear view mirror, not surprised to see that Ed's left eye was twitching.

"Oy, Maria, don't tease him with Ms. Rockbell between you two! It's cowardly!"

"Did you just call me a coward?" Her voice was dangerously low.

Denny rolled his eyes and took advantage of a break in traffic to sneak a few cars up in line. "You two are a bad influence on her," he told the brothers.

"Can we not upset the two people I'm sitting between?" Winry's voice sounded serious, but another glance in the mirror showed she was smiling.

"Oy, that reminds me – Ed hasn't broken his . . . er, automail already, has he? Or are you here to see the inauguration?"

Winry shook her head, giving the man beside her a dark look. "Not yet," she admitted. "Although he's only been in Central about ten minutes, so I figure it's a little early even for an over-achiever like him. I'm just here to see our great government at work."

The last sounded a bit bitter, and when Denny glanced in the mirror again, Maria's eyes were boring into his own.

Obviously a bad subject.

"I'm afraid all you're going to see are crowds." Traffic was moving a bit better than he expected, but not much. "The Parliament didn't give us much time to get everything in place, and the public works department has been at it non-stop for pretty much two days straight."

"And I'm certain all the hotels are booked," Maria said worriedly. "If you need a place to stay, Winry –"

"We'll put her up," Ed cut in from the backseat.

Oh.

Oh!

Well, Edward had known her for a long time, and he'd just spent a few weeks with her, and they weren't kids anymore, but . . . Denny risked a glance at Alphonse. Was he okay with that?

Al didn't look surprised, but he did look a little amused. "Something tells me we won't be using our rooms much," he explained. "Brother hasn't been by the First Library in a long time, and we understand some of his reports have been published into texts. Besides, we didn't need two suites to start."

That was true; since they were both State Alchemists, a room each had probably been reserved for them in the officer's palisade. Then again, when they'd last shared a room, Al had been armor and hadn't needed sleep. But they'd been living together in another world for years, apparently in the military, so they were probably used to tighter quarters.

"And all of your notes, Alphonse," Maria added. "Since you were both listed as dead, I'm afraid the proceeds of the sales have gone into scholarships in both your names, but I'm certain the libraries will reimburse you if you ask."

"I'd rather have the texts pulled," Ed growled. "Not yours," he added to the front seat. Al just nodded.

"My notes weren't as dangerous as yours, nii-san. Unless, you published my notes on the Stone . . .?"

Maria made a face in the backseat. "I'm afraid you'll need to talk to the Prime Minister about that."

The car was quiet for a few seconds, the only sounds the rumbling of motors and the occasional honk or shout from the sidewalk. Ed's voice, when he finally spoke, was absolutely flat. "You've got to be kidding me."

Denny turned in his seat to catch the younger man's eyes. "Edward, you have to understand, even though the public didn't see you disappear, or the city below Central, the array in Lior . . . there were hundreds of witnesses. Rumors that a Philosopher's Stone was involved ran rampant-"

"I'd forgotten about that," Al murmured. "He's right, nii-san. By the time I'd finished studying under sensei again, it was a known fact that you'd transmuted or found a Philosopher's Stone, and then disappeared."

"That was the only rumor that we could fuel that wouldn't case mass treasure hunts," Denny tried again. "Since only a few people survived . . . what happened . . . the Major Gene-ah, damn it, I did it again," he groused. "The Prime Minister. He sort of became the keeper of all the information that had been gathered. Then, after the Thule Invasion, when the city below Central was revealed to the public, it was just assumed that that city had something to do with the Stone-"

"And it became the city that died in a single day because of the Stone," Maria finished. "Like Lior. That rumor wasn't hard to start, seeing as it was the truth. In the last four years all kinds of conspiracy theorists have postulated that Edward found that city and tried to bring back the residents, disappearing himself, or that the city beneath Central was cursed and spat forth demons on the anniversary of Ed's disappearance. There was nothing we could do about those rumors, so we allowed them."

Ed was silent, but Al leaned forward in interest. "So what's the official stand, then? Did Ed commit a crime by transmuting the Stone? We thought it was weird that no one tried to enter our car on the train even though it was packed . . ."

"Officially, Edward Elric came into possession of a Philosopher's Stone through unknown means, and disappeared shortly thereafter," Maria recited. "The Prime Minister released all of the notes and research that didn't contradict that information. Everything other than that is pure speculation. Some citizens reported seeing his ghost in the city on the day of the Thule Invasion, following his younger brother, but that was never confirmed."

"And his heroic younger brother sacrificed his life to stop the attack," Denny recalled. "With the help of a disgraced corporal that had abandoned his post in the North to assist Amestris in her hour of need."

"He totally piggybacked onto our plan," Ed griped from the backseat.

"And he prevented us from being torn to pieces by canons," Al reminded his brother shortly. "I don't know that we could have taken Eckhart's ship without injury if he hadn't been there."

Ed crossed his arms and glared out the window. "I can't believe he really published our notes. All of it? Transmutation circle drawings, our conjectures . . . ?"

Denny exchanged a look with his partner before he responded. "Well, I'm sure he modified or changed the exact details on how you did it, if they were even recorded . . ."

He could almost hear the smirk in Edward's voice. "The worst of it was encrypted. I wonder if he figured out my algorithms . . . I can't wait to get five minutes alone with that bastard."

"Well, good luck with that," Denny chuckled. "There have been two attempts on his life in the past week, so the colonel's taken to keeping an eye on him personally."

"You're kidding." This time it was Al, and he looked stunned. "Hakuro really-"

Denny shook his head, contemplating taking a shortcut down Market Street for a brief moment before deciding it was probably a bad idea. "Not the General. Probably the Drachmans. The first one died from his wounds before he could be questioned, and the second took poison."

Winry made a small noise, and Denny heard Maria rubbing her back. "We shouldn't speak of these things with a civilian in the car-"

"It's okay," Winry said quickly. "I'm just glad . . . that he didn't get killed."

Al moved suddenly in Denny's peripheral vision, but he didn't say anything.

"So were we," Denny agreed. "If the Drachmans were that afraid of him as a candidate, maybe the fact that he now has the power to declare war will give them pause."

"What made you think it was the Drachmans?" Ed's voice was considering. "I thought we were having border conflicts on three sides."

"We are," Maria agreed, folding her hands back in her lap. "One of the assassins posed as a delivery man with a gift basket of exotic fruits. Sheska recognized the decorative grass in the bottom from a book that stated it only grew on the south face of the Briggs mountains."

"That's Sheska," Al murmured. "But that could have been planted to avert suspicion from elsewhere."

"Mustang thought the same thing," Denny told them. "He spent three and a half hours in Hakuro's office trying to talk him out of retaliating."

"Hakuro always was good at following orders," Ed mused. "I wonder if he'll follow Mustang's."

"I certainly hope so." Maria's voice was worried. "The Parliament looks especially weak for having to elect a leader outside of the House, and after the bomb . . . this country is either about to get its act together, or it's going to crumble." Then she chuckled. "You two always did have good timing."

Ed just groaned and leaned his forehead against the window.

"You couldn't wait to get back here," his brother reminded him good-naturedly, and Ed just thumped his head once against the glass in response.

- x -

Author's Notes: Okay, seriously. The next chapter will be the last chapter. I have every last scene mapped out in my brain. There are five. Of course, I only got to two in this chapter . . . augh! Okay, so two more chapters? How can I be this pathetic! Ack! Standard typo apology – I think I found 'em all, but historically I think that's really only a fifty-fifty thing.

K – I have no way to PM you, so I will answer your question here. I have not yet stated explicitly how Ed's automail was discovered and removed, just that it happened sometime in the last two days he was in Germany, and it happened after Ed had learned that some of his research was being used to kill humans. Also, Ed revealed that he and Mustang didn't talk much during the time Al left them alone in his hospital room. Ed did not say they were completely silent the whole time.

And that's all I'm saying about that. ; )