Edward woke up to find that Al was gone, leaving only a note saying he'd gone to look for something and would be back in a few hours to explain his absence. While awaiting his brother's return, Ed sat and read a book to pass the time, occasionally sparing a glance towards the calendar on the wall. His mind would wander to some distant memory long since passed, and he'd sigh heavily, as if trying to relieve some sort of heavy burden.

It didn't seem to matter which side of the Gate Ed was on; his mind always managed to drift off to a place other than where he was.

Breaking out of his latest reminiscent stupor, he glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It was getting rather late in the evening, and still Al hadn't returned. He was certain that it was nothing to be concerned over, but that didn't stop him from worrying. He stood, stretching, and grabbed his black coat. He scratched a quick note where Al's had been and headed out the door, hoping maybe he would find his brother nearby.

After searching long and hard for his younger sibling, and to no avail, Ed finally gave up, settling instead for walking into what was fast becoming his new favorite hangout. The bar smelled of smoke and dust, but it reminded him of the one back in Germany, and that comforted him somehow.

He sat at the bar and ordered a stiff drink, feeling the familiar melancholy beginning to set in. For some unexplainable reason, he at times as if something was missing, like there was a part of his life left incomplete. He could never tell if it was the fact that he missed the friend with whom he shared his life for those few precious years in Germany, or the fact that his endless adoration for one raven-haired military man would always remain one-sided.

As he ordered a few more drinks, he saw the object of said affection enter the bar, causing him to down each drink in rapid succession. By the time he'd gotten the last one down, he was starting to feel a little lightheaded, causing him to have second thoughts about being so quick to consume the drinks before him.

Ed kept a wary eye on the man, watching as he crossed the room to pull out a chair at a nearby table. Part of him had felt a little disappointed that the recently-reappointed colonel hadn't noticed his presence and at least come over to fling an insult at him, but the other part of him (the more reasonable and far more sober part) had been screaming "please don't let him see me, please don't let him see me, please please please!!!"

The blond scoffed at his own ridiculous antics. Since when had he started acting like some kind of crazed, lovesick schoolgirl?

"He's probably on a date or something anyway," he muttered irritably, somehow remaining oblivious-yet-aware of his own jealousy.

Thankfully, no one was around to witness this behavior, for Edward would have had a serious case of foot-in-mouth syndrome after seeing that, after half-an-hour, the solemn uniformed man remained the only occupant at the table.

The metal-limbed alchemist thus drew two conclusions: a) the infamous Roy Mustang had lost his charm over the years and had been stood up, or b) he was simply out for a drink, not a date. The latter looked more likely.

Still, feeling slightly sympathetic (a symptom, no doubt, of the after-affects of slamming down alcohol faster than Al on a kitty), Ed took his drink and walked over to where said lone alchemist sat.

Roy glanced up to see a mildly-sloshed subordinate holding a drink and staring at him.

"Was there…something you needed, Fullmetal?" he said slowly, unsure of what to do in this kind of situation. Sure, had it been any of his other subordinates, he would have simply tipped his drink and invited them to join him. This particular lower-ranking officer, however, was one that had been on his mind a little too often as of late, and seeing the young man standing before him, looking three drinks short of the state of smashdom.

Ed simply shook his head and gestured to Roy's state of dress. "Nah. Hey, why are you still in uniform? Don't you have any kind of civilian dress?"

Roy mentally rolled his eyes in irritation. Sometimes the boy—man, he reminded himself. He's a man now—drove him up the proverbial wall with his simple-minded comments. "Yes, I do. Some of us actually work on the weekends, you know."

A pair of golden eyes focused and narrowed at the remark. "You know, if you didn't work me to the bone like some kind of half-brained labor slave, I wouldn't have to take the weekends off to recuperate."

A dark brow was cocked in amusement. "Recuperate? Come on, Ed. You're a big boy now, you should be able to handle this workload. And here I thought you were a prodigy…"

If one looked hard enough, they could probably see the smoke spewing from Ed's ears. "I…I can…shut up."

Roy smirked in triumph, though he felt slightly disappointed at the seemingly easy victory over the usually witty blond. "That's all? Maybe you do need to take a short break from work, if that's the best you can come up with."

Ed's eye twitched at the mention of the word "short." He was just about to fire off a sharp retort when he thought better of it. Instead (and much to Roy's surprise), he simply smiled and sat down across the table from his superior officer.

"You know, normally, I wouldn't let you get away with that, but since this is a holiday, I think I'll let it slide," he said calmly.

"Let it slide?" Roy asked in disbelief. He was so stunned at the strange reaction that he couldn't think of anything to say. Something did catch his attention, however. "Wait, what holiday? I was unaware that today was a holiday."

Edward shrugged. "Not on this side of the Gate, but on the other side, it's St. Patrick's Day. If I wasn't here, I'd probably be…well, on the other side, doing exactly what I am now."

"Annoying me?" Roy asked smugly.

Ed narrowed his eyes at the older alchemist. "No," he said pointedly. He glanced down to see that his glass was again empty. When had he finished that?

He shrugged again. Ah well. The more he drank, the better he felt, and it would take at least one more drink to help suppress the urge to dive across the table and tackle the man in front of him.

He actually laughed aloud at that thought. How amusing his thoughts were when he was slightly under the influence…

"Something funny?" Roy asked, curious to see what it was that could make the usually serious Fullmetal Alchemist giggle like that. Whatever it was, he wanted to hear it again. It was so…so…cute.

"Eh, nothing. Just thinking about tackling you…," Edward said, still half-immersed in his own thoughts and completely unaware of what he was doing.

The colonel shook his head, unsure if he'd heard right. He'd heard a lot of insane things in his life, but that had to top the list. Not to mention that, though he could manage to keep a straight face, he could practically feel the effects of Ed's mindless banter in other less-easily concealed parts of his anatomy.

He made his decision. Wrong as it might be, he had to do something about the tension that he had felt building between him and the blond. Not only was it driving him insane, it was starting to get in the way of things that used to be important to him.

Things like work.

Yes, something had to be done for the greater good. And though he'd never actually had to do such a thing, Roy Mustang was not above getting the young man drunk and having his way with him. Sure, he'd beat himself up about it later, but…

Well, that was something to be thought about as that time. Later.

So, Roy ordered Edward a few more drinks and began to question him on this otherworld holiday. After a few rounds between the both of them, both men were feeling rather on the giddy side.

This, of course, ended up in a heated tangle of sweat-glazed limbs and misplaced kisses that neither of them really minded, since they really didn't understand what was going on. All they knew was that it felt good, and that it was far overdue.