A/N: Time for a long chapter! There's no harm in posting a little ahead of schedule, after all. As always, a big thank you to all who favorited, followed, and reviewed; I love hearing your feedback.

Chapter Eight: A Different Type of Family

As Roy awoke, he felt dull pains throughout his right side. What the hell happened? He placed his hands on the ground to help himself sit up, and his lower back made contact with the overturned desk chair. "What the..." A quick glance up at the bed showed him that Riza had already gotten up. He used the mattress to lift himself to his feet, narrowly missing the chair with his foot. Wondering if he hadn't been sleepwalking, he rubbed the tiredness from his eyes and shook his head. It was possible that he could have been walking around. That is, if Riza didn't have an explanation. She rarely did things without purpose. If she hadn't moved the chair, well, he supposed that he would never know. The blankets and pillows lay abandoned on the floor, kicked into a haphazard heap against the wall. It was only then that he noticed Riza's bed was already made. Eh, screw it, he thought to himself, not bothering to pick up his things or make his own bed back in his room. He could deal with that later. Without fixing his personal hygiene, he trudged down the stairs, his stomach growling at him as he went.

When he stepped into the kitchen, the smell of eggs and cooked meats reached his nose. He rounded the corner of the stairs and saw Riza, who was sitting at the kitchen table. She had a mug in her hands and was speaking, her voice unwavering and comfortable.

"But even if we ignore the idea of authorial intent, there's no way that anyone can say it's not a work of female empowerment. Aerugo is far ahead of us because they never abandoned Xerxian philosophy."

"Even if they were lucky and found some in-tact texts from Xerxes, we can't know that he read any of them. You have to focus without making broad assumptions."

Roy recognized the second voice easily. Making his presence known, he approached the table and pulled out the chair to Riza's left. "Morning Riza, morning Bea."

The woman at the stove turned around, a broad smile on her face. Her green eyes shone and her dimples were prominent in her joy. The apron tied around her waist was a gingham pattern, one she had made for herself a long while ago. Her brown hair was pulled back into a long braid that fell almost to her waist. "Roy!" she exclaimed, gesturing with the spatula in her hand. "Come give me a hug, pumpkin."

Roy did as he was told, embracing his sister for a long moment. When she let him go, he made his way to the pot of coffee. "What're you talking about?"

"Riza's been reading one of my favorite books. It'll kick you in the rear if you aren't careful. I was just explaining a passage." Bea's voice was sweet and sonorant. The accent in her voice was slight, but she used plenty of colloquialisms that betrayed the region she was from. "It's this new type of theory, well, new in the last decade or so. It's swung in the other direction from where we are now. Movement, counter-movement, y'know?"

"Yeah, no." Roy laughed as he sat back down. "Science mind, remember?"

"I may not practice alchemy, but I can understand theory. That doesn't stop me." Riza wasn't looking at him, but the smirk on her lips betrayed her.

"Yeah, whatever, nerd." He gave her head a light push as he retorted. "Glad to see you two hit it off. Have you may anyone else yet?"

"Everyone else is still asleep," Bea answered. "I'm surprised you're up. My little brother normally sleeps till noon, so I have no idea who you are."

Roy shrugged. "New habit, I guess."

"It took weeks to get you out of bed voluntarily to do chores," Riza pointed out.

"You're the only person I know who thinks chores should start at eight." Roy kept going, giving her no time to argue. "You're right about it," he admitted, "but it's still a little crazy."

Bea chuckled to herself in amusement. "You'll meet the rest of us as they get here. I'm the only one living with Mama Chris right now," she explained as she divided scrambled eggs onto three plates. "Y'all come help yourselves," she added, grabbing a piece of toast and walking to the table. "Oh, Riza, sweetie, don't let Roy go first. There'll be nothin' left by the time you get there."

Riza stepped in front of Roy, who was giving Bea a look of indignance. She was right, but saying it wasn't necessary. Riza helped herself to small portions of everything, even the strange yellow substance in one of the pots.

"Cheese grits!" Roy exclaimed, digging the spoon into the pot like it was gold. Plate laden with food, he joined the other two at the table.

Riza began to try everything on her plate. Many of the foods she had never tasted, and some she rarely had access to back home. Eggs and sausage were a delicacy to her, because her access was limited to what some of her neighbors decided that could spare for free of for little coin. They just weren't a necessity in her eyes. That wasn't to say she didn't enjoy them; she dug into her food with gusto that rivaled Roy. Bea was a magnificent cook; she made a mental note to ask her for pointers. Riza and Roy ate in silence, which Bea took as a good sign. The woman began to clear the mess she had made while cooking.

"That was amazing, Miss Bea," Riza complimented as she walked over to the sink. Without asking or being asked, she took a rag and began to dry the dishes that Bea had washed.

"Oh, you don't need to call me that. I'm not much older than you are, after all."

"Still, thank you for making breakfast."

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Bea hugged her with one arm, trying not to let her wet hand drop on Riza. When she didn't jump away from the physical contact, Riza began to wonder why she hadn't experienced her normal reaction. It wasn't a riddle that she already felt comfortable with Bea; the woman didn't seem to have a mean bone in her body. Maybe this was why Roy called them his sisters.

"Roy!" The cry was somewhere between a shout of joy and a lamentation, followed by rapid footsteps. By the time Riza turned around, a blond-haired woman was clutching Roy tightly. His spoon was still hanging out of his mouth, and he was trying his best to distance his ear from the loud volume. "I was sure you'd been kidnapped by Drachman traffickers! After that story in the paper about those twins, I didn't know what to do! Chris said your train passed through that same city and when you never called..."

"Calm down, Jessica." Chris' voice announced her presence before she was all the way down the stairs. "I told you the boy was fine, didn't I?"

Jessica released Roy from her death grip and straightened herself. "How was I supposed to know when he never calls or writes?"

"Riza will make sure he does more often, won't you?" Chris flicked her lighter and held it to her cigarette.

"Yes, ma'am," Riza conceded without looking up from the dish she was drying. Bea was easy to get along with; she was calm, centered, and highly educated. Jessica, on the other hand, was, well, loud. Shouting and carrying on was something Riza associated with anger rather than joy, and it made her uncomfortable to hear it used that way. She liked being able to predict people, and Jessica was a mystery to her.

"Roy, is this your girlfriend?" Jessica gasped, her blue eyes sparkling.

Roy's hurried "She'snotmygirlfriend!" went unheard due to Riza's simultaneous explanation.

Having practiced her introduction again that morning with Bea, she was more comfortable presenting herself. Chris' observance still wracked her nerves a bit, and she desperately wanted to impress Roy's aunt. "I'm Riza Hawkeye. I'm the daughter of Roy's alchemy master. I'm a girl and his friend, but not a girlfriend."

Chris chuckled and clapped her on the shoulder. "Getting better, I see. And was that a bit of wit I heard? Maybe you should come work for me in a couple years."

"Aunt Chris!" Roy shouted, his ears turning a bit red.

"Calm yourself, boy. Red isn't your color." Chris smiled at him tauntingly. She looked at her girls as she asked "You two are the only ones on until tonight, right?"

"Mmhm," Jessica nodded, having helped herself to an apple from the counter.

"Good. Riza can have a break from the excitement, then. I don't understand how anyone could handle meeting you all at once."

"Mama, quit pokin'" Bea complained as she handed Riza the last plate.

"Yeah, quit teasing us. Poor little Roy looks like he may pop a blood vessel." Jessica did nothing to help his embarrassment.

"Alright, alright." Chris waved a hand as she flicked the ashes off her cigarette. "Roy, I want you to help the girls clean the bar. When you're done with that, you can do whatever you want."

Riza and Bea were already gathering the cleaning supplies from under the sink when Jessica added, "You don't have to help us, Riza."

Roy shook his head, telling her "It's no use. She's going to do what she wants to do. I think she can turn off her hearing and block us out completely. It's actually pretty impressive."

"You're right," Riza chimed as she followed Bea through the large, wooden door.

Roy extended his right arm, palm up, in the direction of the door, as if to say see? He stuck his hands in the pockets of his flannel pants and began to follow, shaking his head. Jessica couldn't help but laugh to herself. She liked this girl; she gave Roy a run for his money.

Riza took up a cloth and a spray-bottle, and began to wipe down one of the tables. She felt completely at home here. No, not at home; home never felt like this for her. It was more like she felt she belonged. Everyone she had met so far welcomed her with open arms, and not one of them made her feel like a burden or an inconvenience. She was being treated like a human being. This thought alone made her stomach flip. Maybe this was what a home was supposed to be, how life was supposed to feel. She blinked a few times, trying to chase away the thought. That wasn't something she needed to dwell on right now. She refused to let an anxiety attack take her on her first day away from home. She mentally berated herself, reminding her emotions that she had to present as normal. Chris and the others were safe so far, but there was no guarantee that they would stay that way. Quite simply, they weren't Roy. She wasn't ready to let anyone else in just yet. Maybe she would talk to him about her realization later that night, but maybe it was best kept to herself. She hadn't decided yet.

As she straightened back up, she almost bumped into Roy, who was sweeping behind her. She shifted to the side, narrowly avoiding him. "Careful," she reminded him as she moved to the next table.

The wooden door in the back opened to reveal Chris, who had a puzzled look on her face. "Riza, why is your desk chair on the floor by your bed?"

Riza's face was straight and serious as she responded "I have terrible nightmares, and Roy decided he was going to sleep on my floor."

"Hey!" Roy began to protest, but she cut him off.

"I put the chair by the bed to keep him from sleeping on his back. He snores," she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I do not!" Roy objected, nearly drowned out by the uncontrollable laughter of Bea and Jessica. The two women were leaning on one another and the bar for support.

"Yes, you do. Loudly." Riza pointed out, aware yet indifferent of his indignation. "You don't do it when you are in your room, but you did it on the train, and you do when you sleep on the couch."

Chris looked at her girls, who were falling all over themselves. Roy was pouting; there really was no other word for it. Riza, meanwhile, was perfectly stoic, if a little confused at the reactions she had caused. Chris sighed, shaking her head. "Okay, then," were the only words that made it out of her mouth. "Get back to it, you four. We open in an hour."

Roy picked the broom back up with a huff. "I do not," he muttered to himself.

Still having no idea what she did, Riza started cleaning tables once more. It didn't take long to get the bar tidied up, much to everyone's relief. Riza hopped up on a bar stool and asked Roy "What do you want to do today?"

Roy jumped up into the bar itself. "Well, we're young and broke. That limits our options. Sometimes I walk around the city, or just hang out in the bar - Aunt Chris lets me stay depending on who comes in. Everything in the city costs money, which sucks." He frowned to himself.

"Why don't we walk around? We usually go to town this time of day, and if I don't walk, I'll get antsy." Riza looked up at him to see what he thought.

"Sure." Roy jumped down off the bar. "Come on, then. We can't go out like this."

Jessica watched with baited breath as the children left through the back door. As soon as she heard it shut, she swiveled to look at Bea, almost jumping with excitement. "Oh my god, how cute are they?! Our little Roy has a crush!"

"Shhhhhh," Bea scolded her, making a downward motion with her hand. "You're gonna scare her off like that! She's skittish. If you embarrass her the poor thing might just shut down. Besides, Roy might die if you say anything to him. Bless his heart, he'd never be able to talk to her again!"

"But what if we can give them a hand?" Jessica pressed.

"They're just babies, Jess. Let them be." Bea busied her hands by gathering the cleaning supplies. "If Roy isn't an idiot, he'll be studying there for a while. You can meddle when they get older. Lord knows I can't stop you."

When Roy and Riza returned, the street lamps had come on, signaling dusk. Riza had her hands clasped behind her back, a little bounce in her step. Roy had been watching her to see if it was a short change in pace, but she kept it up for several steps. He had never seen her walk like that. She had overtaken him by a couple paces, and when he said her name, she turned around, surefootedly walking backward. There was a slight glint in her she that he had only seen when she was being mischievous. The corner of her mouth was turned upward, and she failed to notice Roy's skepticism. "You okay?" Roy asked, maintaining their pace.

"Yeah, why?" Riza asked, tilting her head slightly.

"You're acting weird."

"Weird how?"

"You're bouncing and walking the wrong way."

Riza shrugged, looking directly at him. "I'm happy," she stated simply, certain that that was the reason for her behavior. Yet her response caught both her and Roy off guard. Riza felt guilty that she never had this feeling at home, not often, anyway. Roy was struck with an odd combination of pity and determination that he couldn't name. Lost in her self-depreciating thoughts, Riza realized a moment too late that her show had caught an uneven part of the sidewalk. As soon as she noticed that she was falling, she felt a jerk that stopped her descent. Roy had caught her by the wrist, and he moved his other hand to her upper back so that he could steady her. When he pulled her up, she was looking down at her feet.

"What is it?"

"I made myself look like a fool," Riza admitted, daring to look up.

"So? I make myself look like a fool all the time." Roy grinned in an attempt to get her to do the same. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Riza. You don't deserve it."

The look Riza gave him was one he had never seen before. Worried that he had upset her further, he opened his mouth to backtrack. His mouth continued to hang agape when he looked down to find Riza hugging him tightly. Well, that was the last thing he expected. She so rarely showed outward affection to anyone, let alone him. The "thank you" she said into his shoulder left him frozen, totally unsure of what to do.

Finally, she pulled away from him. She had enough confidence to look him in the eye as she disclosed, "No one's ever said something like that to me before. I'm so used to being blamed and scolded that I do it to myself. You're the first person to make me think that I shouldn't do that to myself. I try not to, and it's hard, but hearing you say that means a lot to me. So thank you."

Just when he thought he had her figured out, he realized each time that he had barely scratched the surface. He linked his arm with hers and stuck his hand back in his pocket, leading her further down the street. His stomach growled, angry with him for waiting so long for dinner. He had adjusted to what he called Hawkeye-time; his aunt still worked on Mustang-time, which meant dinner wasn't served until about eight-thirty. He hung his head and let out a groan. "Hungry..."

"You didn't think to bring a snack?" Riza was surprised at his uncharacteristic behavior.

"I never do. Your place is always close enough that I can just run inside. It's easy that way." The lights of the bar lit up the sidewalk, but it was relatively quiet. Roy peeked through one of the front windows, seeing if it was safe to go through the front door. "It's just Bea with some guy. It's dead tonight," he commented as he opened the door.

"And this girl, fresh from the academy, mind you, has the you-know-whats to stand toe-to-toe with me. And you know what she does? She looks me in the eye and she says to me if my being a woman is such a problem, sir - she hissed at me, just like that - then perhaps it's because I am proving that women are better soldiers." The man slapped his hand down on the bar for emphasis. "Well, I'll be damned!" He laughed contagiously. "And she was right! Not one of my men had a better hand-to-hand score, let alone melee combat. She could hand any one of them their asses on a silver platter."

Bea smiled at the story. "So, did you get her?"

"Me? I wish! She just called me a pervert and made a reference to the size of her sword, if you catch my drift."

"Sounds like you've had someone put you in your place, you old coot," Chris gasped from behind the bar, smiling at her own joke.

"Maybe so," the man admitted with a shrug. "But I can't keep up with the younguns forever, can I?"

"Cut the crap. You're gonna hang on to that uniform as long as you can."

"Damned right." The man lifted his glass in a toast to no one in particular.

"Gramps!" Roy exclaimed, running over to the man. He jumped up on the bar, ducking to avoid a slap upside the head from his aunt for doing so. "You're telling military stories without me?" His voice held a drop of genuine disappointment.

"The General doesn't come here to entertain you, boy." Chris huffed, unfailing a bottle of amber liquid.

"Oh, it's quite alright, Chris. What, did you get kicked out already? After all the work I want through?"

"No!" Roy was insulted. "I'm not that stupid. We're here for vacation."

"We?"

"Yeah, me and Riza. Riza, come meet Grumps!"

She swallowed her discomfort, but she did allow herself a sharp look at Roy for putting her on the spot. "I think you mean Gramps."

Roy shook his head. "No, he's grandpa Grumman. Grumps. Fits his attitude, too."

"Watch it, boy. I may be old but I can still take you." The glint in the old man's eye showed that he wasn't entirely kidding.

Turning his attention back to Riza, Roy added, "Grumps has been coming here since before Aunt Chris adopted me."

Riza studied the old man cautiously. She was more wary of men than women, but this man seemed alright. His military uniform made him look severe, but he had a mustache that made it difficult to take him seriously. He reminded her a bit of Mr. Pierre in how he carried himself. She took stock of the room, aware that Roy, Bea, or Aunt Chris would help her if she needed it; she had at least that much faith in her new acquaintances. After she determined her safety, she extended her hand to the man. "I'm Riza Hawkeye, Roy's master's daughter."

She was caught completely off guard by the sudden change in the general's demeanor. She watched as he looked at Chris, who gave a subtle nod in return. He then took Riza's hand, holding it in his own. "It's wonderful to meet you," was all he could manage in the moment.

Riza had no idea what was going on. She began to feel alarm creeping up from her stomach, and she looked at the one safe space in the room. Roy caught her gaze and briefly looked at his aunt, who was smiling. He then looked at Grumman, who he wasn't able to read. His eyes finally fell back on Riza, her confusion mirrored in his.

"May I please have my hand back, sir?" Riza asked slowly and quietly, not wanting to invite any further reaction.

Grumman coughed and removed his hands from hers. "Yes, of course." Once more, his eyes met Chris'.

Chris turned her attention to Roy. "Come on, boy. I think the general wants to talk to your girlfriend for a while."

Riza's eyes locked with his, their message for him alone to understand: don't leave me. He looked at his aunt and began "I don't think -"

"Good, because you don't have to." Chris placed her hand firmly on his shoulder, steering him out of the room. "You can sit right by the door if you think you need to, but you're going to be on the other side of it."

Roy turned his head back to look at Riza, but Chris had pushed him through the door before he had the chance. His hands flew to the doorknob, only to find that Chris had locked it from the other side. She was always one step ahead of him. Roy continued to rattle the doorknob, shouting in frustration. In a flash of brilliance, he dashed out the back door and ran around front. He bit back a string of curses when he saw the curtains drawn, and he had no luck with that door, either. With a growl, he kicked the front door, doing more harm to his foot than the hardwood.

"Roy Mustang, get your rear back inside!" Bea ordered as she rounded the corner.

"Sure. Just unlock the door."

Bea grabbed the top of his ear between her thumb and forefinger. She then began to pull Roy along with her. He followed obediently, swearing in pain as he went. He was drug through the back door and finally released, but Bea wasn't done with him yet.

"What's gotten in to you?!"

"Chris locked me out!"

"And?"

"And?! And Riza is in there and I should be too! I should know what that weird old man wants to say to her! It's not fair that-"

"God save me, Roy, not everything is about you!"

Roy stopped, trying to process what had just been said to him. He opened his mouth, but when Bea took a step in his direction, he faltered.

"You have no idea what that little girl has been through. I don't know her as well as you do, no, but I can see. We all can. Every one of us here knows what it takes to make a girl have that look in her eyes. You don't know everything, and we don't want you to. But, so help me, Roy, maybe her life is going to get a little bit better tonight. Your stomping around and throwing a tantrum? It's selfish. That girl would give you everything she has because, right now, you're the only person she trusts. You need to give at least a quarter of that, don't you think?"

Roy turned his back on her and stalked into the sitting room. He threw himself down on the couch nearest the door, never taking his eyes off the polished wood.

After several moments of silence, Bea followed him and took a seat on the other side of the couch. "What're you thinking?"

"She wanted me to stay," Roy admitted, his gaze still away from his sister. "She looked at me, and I knew she wanted me to stay. She's scared..." His chin dropped as he sighed. "I know she is. She doesn't feel safe."

"You got all of that from one look?"

"Well, yeah. That's how she talks sometimes. Sometimes, at her house, it's better not to say something out loud. She's had her whole life to learn how to speak without making a sound. Me, I'm not so good at it." Roy shook his head softly. "Grumps scares her. Lots of men do, I've noticed. Even Aunt Chris scares her some. But she's not scared of you."

"Roy, is there anything you need to tell me?" Bea probed cautiously.

Roy shook his head in response. "It's not like anything super bad has happened. Yeah, Master Hawkeye can be scary, but we don't even see him all that often."

"And her mom?"

"Dead. She doesn't like to talk about it."

After taking in this new information, Bea smiled softly at the black-haired boy. "You care about her a lot. But you have to learn that you're not the only one who wants her to be happy. I do, Mama does, and even Grumps. You have to let us love her a little bit, too." She reached over and ruffled his hair. "There's stew in the fridge," she announced before standing up. "Mama's probably closed the bar by now. I'm gonna have an early night."

Roy made a vague noise as a reply, and he listened as her footfalls on the stairs became quieter, and then silent. A part of him felt like Bea had a point, but his protective side fought against her. The war in his head made him forget his hunger, and he slumped on the couch, waiting for the door to open.