A/N: It's finished... Not too far behind schedule either! I will admit that I'm not entirely happy with one section, but I'm happy with the chapter as a whole, so I'm not willing to leave you hanging for another month or so, just quell my own insecurity issues over a few paragraphs of it. I can (and probably will) come back and edit them to my satisfaction later...

A double shout out to ZonkieTheGreat, because in a sleep deprived epic fail, I forgot to thank her last chapter. She really is the best story adviser EVER. She has been my compass throughout the writing process and this story wouldn't be half of what it is with out her.

Soooo, Without further ado, and the gratuitous space filler otherwise known as 'Author's Notes you may never read' (maybe I just like the sound of my own keyboard)... On with the show!

.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Chapter 3

Where do We Go from Here?

They stopped to make camp shortly before sundown, near what might once have been a farm house. Though all that remained of it now, was a partially tumbled down stone chimney, and a pile of wood and cobbles that had once been walls and a roof. Morbidly, she wondered if it had been abandoned before the explosion had leveled it.

As they settled into the space, though, the whole quality of the group changed. There was a feeling of winding down, not that they let down their guard any... It was just this quality in the air, a clear sense that they were no longer actively seeking confrontation... And to be honest, it was a relief.

Throughout the day, they had stopped twice more. Excluding Mustang, who had been relieved of Bailey's weapon at the conclusion of this morning's firefight, the men of the group had entered two more small semi-fortified looking compounds. They did so with much bravado, which greatly contrasted their demeanor upon exiting.

Far from the disappointment she would have expected after such an entrance, the men actually seemed quite relieved. They had moved on from both sites with little fanfare, apparently finding neither anything, nor anyone of real value at either site.

Now, as dusk settled in around them, the men began to perform the more menial, and ordinary tasks of life. One of the men, Hanson, had managed to scrounge up a decent sized pot from the rubble. It had been filled with water from a surprisingly still functioning pump, discovered near the back of the ruin.

Also scavenged from the debris, was enough wood to fuel a small cooking fire for a few hours, over which the pot had been set to boil. Bailey wasted no time in beginning to drop a few large gold labeled cans into the water, as Hanson returned with additional chunks of broken beam to stock the small blaze.

"Hey ma, what's for supper?" Hanson said, peering down into the water. Then without allowing Bailey answer, he glanced back up, and in a whiny childish voice, cried "Aw ma, can soup again?"

Bailey grinned, rolling his eyes, then gave him a playful shove back toward the rest of the men.

"Shut up, Hanson, If you don't like it you can just have cold canned 'meat product'" Bailey called after him sarcastically, a comment that was met with grimaces all around.

Carter sidled up to Bailey a few moments later, also peering into the pot.

"How're we doing, private?"

"That's the last of the C's, sir."

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing we'll be back at the command post tomorrow. Hopefully we'll be able to pick more up then..."

Bailey nodded, and returned to tending the fire, as the rest of the men began to lay out their bed rolls. This action brought home a realization that left Winry feeling apprehensive to say the least. It wasn't that she hadn't known she would be sleeping along side these men, it was just that she hadn't considered the general lack of privacy... And with the experiences of this morning still very fresh in her mind, she was less than enthused by the prospect.

Standing at the perimeter, she watched nervously as the squad went about their business, then she spied Mustang creating a makeshift bed from two of the pilfered blankets. Like it or not, he did present a tolerable, if not, as he'd stated last night, 'ideal' solution to her predicament.

He looked surprised to say the least when she began to lay out a bed of her own there beside his, but he said nothing so neither did she. As with this afternoon, the men shared their rations with the two new comers. They were outsiders, and as such there was little conversation to be had once the 'are you married / do you have a boyfriend' avenues had been exhausted, so at the conclusion of the meal, Winry decided to retire.

It had been a long, stressful day, and not a terribly restful sleep the night before. Much to her chagrin, though, she found she was wide awake. And despite her best efforts, she simply couldn't quite make herself drift off.

She was still trying, when Roy finally came to lay down beside her. She'd rolled, and shifted, and turned in search of a comfortable position, 'til she thought she'd be permanently, and inextricably tangled into her bedding... Then, as she rolled, yet again, onto her right side, she opened her eyes in frustration, and was startled to find herself eye to eye with Mustang. He wore a concerned look, and seemed to have been watching her for some time.

Sighing, she levered herself up on one elbow. Laying her head in her upraised hand, she asked the question that had been bothering her since she came to in that frigid ruin last night...

"Roy, what are we doing here?"

"Pardon?"

Once again, he seemed startled by this sudden end to her silence, but recovered quickly, barely giving her a chance to repeat the question before delivering a smooth response.

"I would have thought that was obvious, I'm here to get Ed and Al back."

It was too smooth, too rehearsed, but he'd slipped when he said 'I' not 'We'. Clearly he hadn't intended for her to be brought along. That had been made all the more obvious, by his response to seeing her last night... Things weren't going according to his, most likely, meticulously crafted plan. Still, she wondered what had been his motivation in the first place. After all, he was a man driven by deep currents, and he had never been one to do anything by halves...

"That's not what I mean. What I'm getting at is, why now? What made you decide to go looking for them at this moment, and not one or three or five years ago?"

"I just thought it was time someone did something about the situation, and people weren't exactly lining up to take on the task."

His answer was nonchalant, but it was clear he was still evading something, so she pushed.

"So you decided that someone should be you?... Did anyone else know your plans? Can we expect a rescue party?"

Now, finally, she began to see the cracks in that smooth, self assured facade...

"No"

He said it in that same tone he'd used, when she'd asked him to make a fire last night, and for the first time, he broke eye contact, though only briefly.

"I'm sorry, this hasn't exactly gone as I had planned... What on earth possessed you to walk out on the array like that in the first place?"

When he looked back up at her questioningly, she finally saw the true Mustang, not the mask he showed the world... But she didn't care for the way he seemed to shift the blame.

"I was coming to tell you off- Well not you exactly because I didn't even realize it was you at the time, but I was coming to tell off the soldier I saw messing with the array..."

Even in the darkness she saw him blanch.

"You, a civilian in a restricted zone, were going to waltz up to a soldier you didn't even know and start yelling at them? Have you lost your mind?"

In the back of her mind she wondered, not for the first time, if she had gone insane... When had she become so impulsive, so vindictive, she hadn't always been that way, had she?...

"I can take care of my self" She pouted selfconsciously.

The look he gave her in response, was as dubious as his reply.

"Oh, really? How long have you been living down there?" He countered dryly, though she noticed her initial question still had yet to be answered.

"That's beside the point, you're changing the subject!"

"So are you, how long?"

She sighed in frustration, because she knew she wasn't going to get any further, until she answered him.

"Ten months." She ground out, hoping to end this line of questioning, and get him back on track, but he was only just getting started.

"And how long has it been since you spent any real time with other people, that didn't involve work?"

"You're one to talk..." She grumbled defensively.

Nodding his head once he conceded that point, but did not let up.

"Be that as it may, I spoke to Sheska after I saw you in the graveyard. She didn't even know you were in the city, let alone that you'd been there for over a year! You're too young to be living like this, Winry... To lock yourself away, like some hermit in that crypt!"

"What do you know about it!" She cried petulantly.

Perhaps it was just how tired she was, but having him speak to her like that... Like he had any right to criticize the way she lived, it aggravated her beyond reason. Apparently though, she wasn't the only one feeling impassioned by the bent this conversation had taken...

"What do I know about it?" He shot back without hesitation. "I know what I saw in your eyes that day at the cemetery, the complete lack of hope... You asked me why we we're here? That's why. I've been the person on the other side of that look too many times before, and I knew that if I didn't do something, it would be you I buried next... I just... I couldn't let..." Abruptly he clamped his jaw shut, cutting off any further words, but it was already too late.

"You're saying you did this for me?" she said, staring at him incredulously, her tone matching her demeanor.

After a moment he nodded, a familiar intensity filling his eyes, but it only served to anger her further.

"And I'm to thank you for this?" She asked, casting her hand in a sweeping gesture to indicate their surroundings.

She hadn't meant to sound ungrateful, that small rational part of her mind honestly did appreciate the gesture... But he'd managed to get under her skin, again. She'd been shocked, to say the least, by his latest admission. Especially considering the results.

So, without thinking, she'd struck back at him, again. It was a tendency that had begun to become a most unwelcome fallback. She remembered a time when she'd been far more forgiving, and not quite so quick to anger... Where had that girl gone? Before she could apologize, though, she saw his eyes darken.

"No, of course not, why should you?... It was simply an honest answer to an honest question." His voice though quiet and calm, harbored a darkness that bordered on sarcasm, and despite the attempt at subterfuge, failed to conceal the anger he clearly felt.

Then, before she could say anything further, he abruptly rolled onto his other side, quickly, and effectively ending the conversation, as he turned his back on her.

Sighing in exasperation, she flopped onto her back, and stared up into the night sky. Why couldn't she ever just let things be easy? Why did she always have to assume there was an ulterior motive? She was too young to be so cynical... Sighing again, she shook her head, and rolled onto her left side, as she returned to the labor of finding sleep.

.o0o.

She'd realized her mistake to late. Power was flashing through the lines around her, causing them to glow blue-white.

A scream tore from her throat, and she cowered as the wind began to whip around her. It wasn't usually in her nature to behave this way, but everyone was afraid of something, and though both Ed and Al had tried on various occasions to quell her fears, this part of alchemy had always frightened her terribly, ever since she was a small child.

She saw him look up now, noticing her for the first time. Then she watched as his expression turned from elation, to recognition, and then pure panic. His lips forming the negative, he shot to his feet. She thought he might have shouted it, though if he had, she could not possibly have heard him over the rapidly increasing winds.

Her hair blew into her eyes then, blinding her for a moment. By the time she had recovered her sight, he was racing towards her, hand outstretched, as the blocks at the center of the circle began to fall quickly away. The cascade reached them both at nearly the same moment, and as they tumbled into the darkness, she thought she might never forget the look that filled his eyes, it was a look of anguish,... pure, unadulterated, anguish...

Suddenly she was no longer falling, but being pulled, as she felt thousands of icy hands grasping at her in the dark. Tiny, yet eerily strong, they dragged her deeper into the tar like gloom, easily overwhelming her struggles to break free.

Piercing the darkness, like stars in a night sky, and easily as numerous, eyes began to appear all around her. Some enormous, others miniscule, but all terrifying, they glared out at her from the black. Silently, they demanded to know why they shouldn't just keep her here in this terrible place for the rest of eternity, and to her horror, she found that she had no answer to offer them...

.o0o.

With a gasp, she woke to find her hands bunched tightly into his shirt. She was covered in sweat, and her face was wet with tears.

"I'm not Ed!" Mustang repeated harshly, his face swimming into view, mere inches from hers.

He was gripping her upper arms, as he leaned over her. Shocked, she let go of the fabric, yanking back her hands. He released her arms in response and pulled back from her as she pushed herself away, then sat up, pulling her knees to her chest.

"I'm sorry." she said breathlessly, lowering her eyes in embarrassment.

Still attempting to gather her her thoughts, she tried not to notice the heads that had popped up in response to the commotion. Hands shaking, she wiped her face dry, and after considerable effort, managed to slow her breathing. From the corner of her eye, she could see Mustang staring at her, still sitting in the position he'd been in when she'd skittered away from him. It was almost enough to undo her all over again.

It wasn't as though she'd never had bad dreams before. Lately, her mind seemed to take particular joy in tormenting her with scenes of her past.

That eerie pinkish dome that had swallowed up Lior along with all the soldiers in it, and the more recent 'Outworlder' attack, put in regular appearances. Supporting roles went to 'Barry the Chopper', and the various homunculus she had encountered during her travels with the boys.

On plenty of occasions, she'd woken to the sounds of her own cries echoing from the walls of the small stone building she called home. No, nightmares weren't all that uncommon for her, she just wasn't used to having an audience, let alone company.

"Are you alright now?" He asked, after giving her a minute to gather her self.

She nodded silently, but it wasn't true.

"Come back and lie down"

His voice was gentle now, but she just wasn't ready, and at his words, she shook her head vehemently. She was too embarrassed and besides, his eyes and voice might be kind, even concerned now, but that had not been the case when she'd first woken in this predicament. Then they had been all but incensed.

"Come on, Winry, come back to bed. Tomorrow's going to be another long day, you'll need your rest." He entreated softly.

But she stayed where she was.

"I'd rather sit up for now, I'm still to shaken to sleep" She said, giving a false smile that was far more reassured than she was.

He nodded curtly, though she was sure he could see through her false bravado, and as he lay back down, she became sure of it, as she felt his eyes burning into her. It made her feel guilty, because she realized he probably wouldn't sleep until she did, and she would not be sleeping again tonight.

Miserable with guilt and embarrassment, she rested her forehead on her crossed arms. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, but this night would be even longer. She sighed, and began her silent vigil for the dawn.

.o0o.

They reached the command post late the next morning, at which time, both Winry and he were ordered to remain at the perimeter, as the other men crossed within. This was to be expected, as they were not trusted military personnel.

Preparing to wait a while, Mustang seated himself on one of the empty wooden crates that lay at the edge of the encampment. Winry did likewise, but conversation with her seemed unlikely. They'd barely spoken five words to one another, after the events of last night. He supposed that was to be expected, he'd been harsh with her, and though he'd tried to make it up to her, as was so often the case with him, it had been too little, too late... So instead, he chose to watch as Carter reported in to what he assumed, was his superior officer.

He could tell when the subject of the conversation turned to him, as a greater than usual number of looks and gestures, began to be cast in his direction. What really nailed it, though was when Carter dipped into his pocket, only to produce the patches and pins that had been removed from Mustang's own jacket. The man took them from Carters hands and sifted through them slowly, wearing a look of bewilderment, as he cast a few furtive glances over at the man in question.

They hadn't been sitting there long when, with a cough and a sputter, a large truck rolled up to the edge of the post and died. A second later the driver hopped out, and though whatever he'd said had been under his breath, it was clear by his expression and gestures, that it had been obscenity laced. Finally he gave the tire a kick, then spun around and leaned back against the fender, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the one of sentries approach him.

The sentry wasn't the only one closing in on the man, though. Unnoticed by Mustang, Winry had gotten to her feet, and was now also approaching the dark skinned man. Fearing this might become a problem, as the man was clearly associated in some way with the men of this post, Mustang also got to his feet and began to follow. She reached the man just as he seemed to be explaining the behavior of the truck before it died. She wasted no time wading into the conversation, though Mustang was too far away to hear the beginning of it, he got there in time to hear her ask...

"...do you mind if I have a look?"

"Well, I don't think there's anything you could hurt, sweetheart, as long as you keep your nose under the hood and out of the back, but to be honest, I think your wastin' your time. I'm pretty sure she finally just gave up the ghost. I told the guys back at the depot, she didn't sound right, but they sent me on anyway. Now here I am, not even half the way up the road, and she's done for..."

Far from spell bound, at least by him, it seemed Winry had stopped listening to him about the moment he gave her the go ahead. In seconds, she had the hood unclipped, and was flipping it up as the man let his monologue trail off, and turned to help her with it.

An instant later she had stepped up, and was balancing on the bumper, with her head and shoulders deep in the engine compartment, her hands resting on the grill and fender to brace her, as she studied the workings of the truck. After a minute or so, she asked him again to describe the sounds and behavior of the truck just prior to it dieing out.

Unbeknownst to her, the spectacle had gotten the attention of the men within the post, and had begun to draw a growing group of onlookers. Oblivious, or simply unfazed by the gathering crowd, she requested a few tools, which the driver obligingly fetched for her as she continued to tinker under the hood.

Still standing where he'd stopped, a few paces from the truck, Mustang let a smile slip out onto his usually stern exterior... He couldn't help but admire Winry as she gloried in her element, she truly was a sight to behold.

Suddenly, he became aware of someone very close beside him, and turned to find Harper standing there.

"She really is something, ain't she?"

Feeling that smile burgeoning into a full grown grin, Mustang nodded. At that moment, Winry asked the driver to try and turn over the engine. He hopped up into the cab, and after a few chattering rounds of the starter it roared to life, garnering a cheer from the gathered men that startled her. Blushing furiously, she hopped down. Barely turning to look at them, she gave a curt nod to the crowd before hurrying to return the borrowed tools to the driver.

"So how'd you wind up with a girl like that?" Harper asked, drawing Mustang's attention back to him.

"I think you've misconstrued our relationship, Winry and I aren't together..." He said hastily, the grin disappearing completely from his face.

"You sure about that?"

"Yes, She lost her family, I simply try to look out for her when I can."

"Sure, sure, of course..." Harper said, but the sly wink he shot him before he walked away, told Mustang that he didn't believe a word of it... Told him as clearly as the friendly edge of sarcasm in his voice.

.o0o.

"Interesting..." Commander Shaw stated quietly, as he observed the goings on just outside the post's perimeter.

"You can say that again... She's very capable, so's her traveling companion, but if they're with the Axis, they sure got a funny way of showing it... Maybe some branch of the resistance"

"Whatever the case may be, The man freely admits to having had military affiliations, and the women demonstrates an uncanny understanding of our arms and equipment. They may well be harmless, or even turn out to be an asset to us, but at the moment I just don't feel entirely comfortable simply sending them on their merry way this close to the enemy territory... There's an army run refugee camp not far from here. Given it's proximity to your next assignment, and the fact that you and your men are already somewhat familiar with these two, I think it would be best if you were to see them there personally... Agreed?"

"Yes, sir"

"Meanwhile, I'll send these on to army intelligence, see what they can make of them... If anything comes up, I'll contact you with further instructions"

"And our current instructions?"

"Yes, yes, of course." The commander said, turning his attention back to the maps on the field desk "Planes flying over have reported a number of possible compounds here, here, and here, and a suspicious looking installation here." He paused indicating positions on one of the maps "Usual drill, clear them and report back on any intel you find. Is there anything else you'll need?"

"Well, rations and ammo of course, but a canteen or two, and a spare pack would also be helpful. Those two showed up with little more than the clothes on their back..."

"That shouldn't be a problem, The lieutenant will make the necessary arrangements, and I'll have him relay the exact coordinates to you. I hope you don't mind K rations, that's all we have in right now."

"I guess it's like they say, sir, whatever doesn't kill you..." Carter let the end of the saying trail off into an overly dramatic sigh, then smiled.

At this the commander grinned.

"We can only hope, Sargent, we can only hope."

.o0o.

Even in her wearied state, the feat hadn't been all that impressive... Tighten this, loosen that, a little 'percussive' therapy, and she'd turned right over. But the men that had gathered, including the driver of the heap, looked at her like she was some kind of miracle worker. Mustang had even smiled... That is, until Harper had said something to wipe the grin clean off his face.

Deciding it was probably best not to acknowledge the attention, she'd returned to her seat without another word. Shortly there after the men's attention was drawn elsewhere, as Carter emerged from the encampment, followed by two men carrying large crates, and a third hauling a couple of large metal canisters. Carter's squad gathered around, the groaning of the nails as they began to pry the lids from the crates, was echoed by the men as they ascertained the contents... K rations.

"Alright, that's enough," Carter said gruffly, quickly silencing them "Load up, we leave in five."

"That goes for you two as well. We were able to scrounge up a few things for you." He said a moment later, coming to stand before she and Roy.

To them, he held out two silver colored canteens, and a greenish brown colored pack.

"Each one of the small boxes over there in those crates, holds a day's worth of rations, pack enough to cover the both of you for seven days."

With that he walked away, leaving them to it.

.o0o.

When they finally made camp for the night, he was, at first, determined to wait up until she finally decided to sleep, but a bit of motion at the edge of his vision caught his attention. Her chin dipped to her chest momentarily, then she began to slouch down, only to rear back up as she tried to shake off the bone deep weariness. Watching from the corner of his eye as the action was repeated again, it became readily apparent, that her intentions were just about the same as his. Seeing her rear upright for a third time, he realized she wasn't going to give in. He now suspected, that if he waited for her to make the first move, no move would be made at all, and from what he already knew of her, she could more than match him in willful stubbornness. So he decided on a new course of action. Taking the blankets from the pack they had been given back at the command post, he laid out their beds, then called her over.

"Come lay down, I've made your bed"

"Thanks, but I'm not tired" She said, brushing her hair back as she made to return to the fire.

"You're a terrible liar"

This made her pause. She glanced back over her shoulder warily.

"Excuse me?"

"You're exhausted, Winry, you need to sleep."

Sighing she turned back to face him.

"I don't want to disturb you again" She admitted quietly, dipping her head.

Lingering embarrassment over last night's incident, clearly written on her face.

"I'll be fine. I was just startled last night, it won't happen again." He said gently.

Trying to sound reassuring, he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away, shaking off his hand as she glared up at him.

"It will, it will happen again!" She cried, then pursing her lips, she softened. "...And you were so angry last night."

He sighed, pausing to consider his next words carefully, lest he drive her to do something rash.

"Winry, I realize this might come as a surprise to you, but I don't exactly wake up all sweetness and light... Just ask Bailey, he's had first hand experience with what kind of mood I wake up in. My reaction to you wasn't personal, I'm just not terribly used to sleeping in the company of other people, I haven't done so for quite a while..."

"Really Colonel, what would the ladies back home think? The reputation you've earned with them is quite the opposite..." she said dryly, though her face remained serious.

Seeing that fatigue had failed to dull her sharp tongue, he chose not to take offense, and instead shot her a wry grin. Softening, she returned it weakly, but it was still a relief, because it was the first one he'd seen out of her all day.

"What if I wake you again?"

"Then you do, I'm no stranger to nightmares, Winry. I'm just sorry I reacted so badly, I'll do better next time. Now please lay down, a blind man could see you're ready to drop."

"What about you?"

"I'll sleep when you do."

Sighing, she finally conceded with a nod, before sliding down into the bed he had made for her. Seconds later she was asleep.

.o0o.

The next day, now fairly well rested, they resumed their journey. A few hours later, they encountered another compound, not unlike the ones they'd seen the first day. As with the others, Carter's men searched the premises, radioing back there findings once they had completed their rounds. Having ended their obligations at that particular local, they continued on. Breaking for lunch about an hour later.

Sitting there beside her, Mustang saw Winry grimace as she took a bite of her rations, then looked around at the rest of the men as they quietly ate theirs. It was he and Winry's second straight day eating them, and these so called 'K Rations' didn't taste any better today, than they had on their first day here... Suddenly, it seemed, she could stand it no more... She spoke up.

"I'm not trying to be rude, or imply I could do any better, honestly, but does this stuff taste as awful to you guys as it does to me?"

This brought a roar of laughter from the whole squad, and shattered the silence that had been hanging heavy over the whole group since they left the command post.

"She certainly cuts straight to the point, doesn't she Mustang" Harper said, shaking his head as tears began to roll down his cheeks "No, sweetheart, they don't taste any better to us. It's just that our tongues have gone numb from eating them so much..."

"Well, Harper," Bailey piped up "I think I've got just the remedy for you!"

Now he stood, and began to pace around the circle of men like a schill warming up a crowd.

"You know Maddox back at the command post? Well he's been after me for weeks about that knife picked up a while back, and he finally had something that was worth trading it for... Look"

He held up four foil wrapped packages, banded in yellow paper, the word chocolate emblazoned across it in a white block script that was outlined in red.

"Hey, aren't those the ones that come in the ten-in-one's?" Hanson asked, eyes wide.

"Sure are."

"But if we're all still eating K-rations, where the hell'd he get 'em?" Hicks demanded angrily.

"Can't honestly say I know, or care. They're mine now boys, and I'm feeling generous, anybody want a piece?"

There was a chorus of answers to the affirmative. He tore open the wrapper of the first bar, and began to break off pieces of it, handing a few to each man as he made his way around the circle. He continued on like this until he reached Mustang, at which point he hesitated.

It seemed as though he'd almost forgotten they were there. Behind him, Mustang saw Carter's jaw tighten, but to the surprise of all, and before anything could be said or done, Bailey resumed his rounds, handing a few pieces to Mustang with a subtle nod before moving on.

It wasn't exactly an offer of friendship, but it was far more than Roy had expected, especially this early on... The marks they each bore from that first encounter had not even begun to fade yet.

Bailey finished his rounds, and returned to his place, as the group savored this impromptu treat in contented semi silence.

.o0o.

That evening things were noticeably more relaxed as the squad settled in for the night. The two that traveled with them, no longer strangers to the rest of the group. Everyone had gathered around the small fire, and after a time, begun, as soldiers are sometimes want to do, to tell stories of their lives back home.

Winry seemed quite taken with the stories, and upon noticing this, many of the men who might previously have remained silent, joined in with the intent to impress her. Even Bailey joined in the fray. Several had gone before a lull in the conversation finally came. It was quickly filled, though, as the last storyteller called over to Harper, who was occupied with looking after Carter's now healing leg.

"So what's your story, Doc? What did you do before, and what possessed you to get into this mess?"

Mustang had heard some of them refer to Harper as 'Doc' several times before. He'd always assumed it was in reference to his status as a medic, but he would soon find out that wasn't the case.

"Me...?"

His attention having been elsewhere when the question was asked, he took a moment to collect his thoughts, before giving an answer.

"I came up in farm country, back in Indiana. We didn't get hit by the dust bowl as badly as those poor folks further west, but we still had it pretty bad. My father and I had to hunt to keep food on the table. Hell, I can still hear him saying 'if you can't track, you won't eat'" He said laughingly, as he lowered his tone to mimic his father's voice, then shook his head, and smiled nostalgically. "Words to live by, and I guess I got to be pretty good at it... but if there was one thing he preached harder than tracking, it was education... No matter how bad things got, he never let me quit school, there was no moving him. Whenever I'd even suggest it, though he was far from stupid, he'd just say 'my son's not gonna be just another dumb Podunk farmer'... I think he actually cried when I got in to Notre Dame on a scholarship, he was so proud. I was the first in my family to finish high school, and go to college. Still, back then I thought I'd never leave Indiana, just live out my life as a country doctor. But after Pearl, I knew what I had to do... I can tell you, Pop was none too pleased when I quit school to join up, but I think he's still proud of my decision, despite the disappointment."

"What about you, Sargent?" Harper asked, turning to quirk an eyebrow at his friend and commander.

"Everyone here already knows my story, including her... No point in dragging the past out of mothballs just to jawjack..."

When they saw her nod in affirmation, the men did not press him to continue, but having noticed one of squad members that had remained strangely silent throughout, Winry turned to Harry.

"What bout you? What brings you to this line of work?" She prompted.

Harry had always been the quiet one of the group, Mustang noticed. He seemed to keep to himself, not just around Winry, but around the rest of the men as well, and the way he kept his head down and did his job with out comment, made him strike Mustang as a man with something to prove...

"Just figured I was better off coming here to kill Nazis, than to stay home and get accused of being one" He stated quietly.

They'd been with Carter's group long enough, and heard enough talk to understand what he meant, who the enemy was, and further to come to the understanding that these 'Nazis' were a particularly nasty group.

"That's terrible, why would anyone say that?" Winry asked, the look on her face was one of horror and disbelief.

He gave her a bitter half smile, and looked down for a moment, before meeting her eyes.

"My name, it's German. Everyone here just calls me Harry, but my full name's Heinrich Vogler, and back home if someone heard it, they automatically thought I was one... Does it matter that my family's been in Texas for generations, and I don't speak a lick a German! Nope, back home if I'm German then I'm a Nazi, and that's that. It's not new, the same thing happened to my pa back during the great war. Having a German name was a crime then too, but he was a proud man, I think he named me out of spite. At least here these guys can see I'm more than just a name..."

.o0o.

Just after their supper had concluded, Bailey abruptly got to his feet, going to stand before Carter.

"With your permission, sir, I think I would like to take miss Rockbell up on her offer..."

"At ease, Private." Carter said, quirking an eyebrow at the man's uncharacteristically stiff, formal stance. "What offer might that be?"

"The other day, despite my less than exemplary behavior, she offered to give an assessment of my weapon. I'll admit I was skeptical at the time, but she's shown herself to be both capable and knowledgeable. So..."

"Been thinking about this for a while, haven't you, Bailey?"

"Yes, sir"

"Alright, if it helps you sleep better-" Carter began grudgingly, then noticing the increased attention the men around him were giving to this little exchange, said a little louder "If it helps you all sleep a little better! Go ahead Bailey, just make sure you clear it before you give it to her, don't need anyone else getting shot this week... And you might try extending an apology to her first, after all you did make quite an ass of yourself..."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir"

"-And lay off the sirs, yer makin' me feel old!"

With out hesitation, he came to stand before Winry, leading off with a heart felt apology for his previous behavior, then asking her again, as though she had not been well within earshot when he asked Carter. Before him, he held out his weapon to her with the reverence he might have shown an infant. She looked him in the eye for a long moment. Then, just when he believed she would surely turn him down, she surprised him.

"I would love to..." She said, taking the weapon from him, and laying it in her lap for a cursory inspection.

As she did so, without looking up, she asked.

"Do you think I could have a bar of that chocolate?"

For the briefest moment he looked strickened, but recovered quickly, covering with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Since she'd still been looking down at the gun he'd just handed her, she hadn't seen it, but Mustang had... Clearly Bailey had been planning to hold on to those a while, and he could understand that... In war sometimes even the simplest comforts were few and far between...

"Winry, don't ask him for that"

"Huh?" She asked, absentmindedly glancing up.

Looking first to Mustang, she followed his gaze to Bailey.

"No, I'll give it to her, it's a fair enough trade"

While it was subtle, this time she saw what Mustang had seen.

"You know what, never mind, just hold onto it-"

"But-"

"If it makes you feel better, I won't turn down a few pieces if I'm still around when you open them"

He seemed torn for a moment, then finally nodded, giving her the slightest of smiles... This one, however, did reach his eyes, and the relief shown therein was tangible. Smiling in return, she patted the ground on the other side of her, inviting him to sit as she spread one of her blankets before her. But as she laid the firearm before her, preparing to dismantle it, he suddenly put a hand out to halt her.

"Wait..."

His nervousness was back.

"Are you sure you'll be able to do this without damaging it... Have you ever taken apart something you couldn't put back together?"

"Well, there was a pocket watch once, but that movement was far more complex than this. Besides that was years ago, I was just a kid back then..."

At this Mustang grinned. He'd always had his suspicions about what happened to Ed's watch, but he'd never been certain until now.

"Don't you worry, Private..." She said, patting his outstretched hand reassuringly. "We'll sort this out in no time."

Haltingly, he pulled back his hand, and she set to work. Just as it had when she'd revived the truck, her industrious labor drew the attention of all those gathered around the fire. Oblivious to her rapt audience, she worked quickly, paying close attention to how each part interacted with the whole... Finally as she finished reassembling it, she gave her pronouncement.

"It's in good working order, I found no major faults in it's design or construction... But there is one thing I can suggest..." She said pulling a corroded round from her pocket, and laying it in his upturned palm. "Be a little more mindful of the ammo you load... That round is what jammed your gun, and gave Mustang the chance to wallop you."

"Yes, ma'am, thank you ma'am." He said contritely

Even in the firelight, they could tell he was blushing deeply as she returned the weapon to him.

.o0o.

Late that evening, she lay awake thinking. She'd been too exhausted the last few days, to really process what had gone on, but now one thing kept circling in her mind. Mustang's startling admission of two nights ago. It kept rolling over and over again in her mind until, finally, she could stand it no longer. Quietly she called out to him, and was relieved to find him still awake.

"You're restless tonight, what's bothering you?" He asked, propping him self up on one elbow.

His perceptiveness was at once both unnerving, and disarming. She decided to go straight to the heart of the matter.

"Did you really think I was going to kill my self?... Because I wouldn't have, you know."

"I know... It was just this feeling I got when I saw you that day, you were so thin and pale... There was no hope or fight left in your eyes...

"I know that look, I've seen it before on the battlefield. It was like you were already dead inside, and you were only waiting for your body to catch up. Did you honestly think I could stand by and do nothing... Just let it happen? Don't I have enough on my conscience already?"

"But I wouldn't have done it." She said plaintively, like a child accused.

He sighed, then with a knowing look, replied.

"You wouldn't have stopped it either..."

Pursing her lips, she let out a long breath, then rolled onto her back, unsure how to respond. Seeming to understand that he'd pushed her far enough, he made no attempts to pursue the conversation further. Instead he followed her lead, laying back on his own bedroll, he rolled onto his side. Shortly there after, his breathing fell into a deep, even pattern, and though his back was to her, she could tell he was asleep. How he could sleep, after what to her was an earth shattering revelation, she did not know, but sleep he did, leaving her to lay restless, staring up at the waxing moon.

Though she was loath to admit it, He was right. While not actively seeking death, it was unlikely she would have defended herself, had she been attacked, or tried to protect herself in any way, had some accident befallen her... In all honesty, she probably would have welcomed it. She certainly hadn't reached out for help when she needed it most, even though it had been well within her grasp...

It unnerved her, how well he had read her. Again he had demonstrated a knowledge of her that defied her understanding of him. On the surface, he'd rarely ever paid any direct attention to her, but it was clear by these recent revelations, that he had, in fact, been paying very close attention to her for some time. It was all more than a little troubling, and despite her weariness, these thoughts kept her awake long past all but the man keeping watch.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.

A/N: Well that's it for now, folks... I hope it was worth the wait. Baring any unforeseen calamities, the next chapter should be back on schedule, dropping about a month from now. So until next time here's wishing you a Happy Halloween!