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

- x -

It occurred to him, once he saw the room, that the look of shock and disbelief on his brother's face might have had less to do with his sentence - whatever it had been - and more to do with the number of people who had seen him in uniform.

There were a lot of people in there. Far more witnesses than could ever have been called to testify in such a short time. If he didn't know any better, Alphonse Elric might have suspected Hakuro of giving away tickets.

Or needing witnesses of his own.

It was hard to tell from the murmuring crowd whether the previous verdict had been positive or negative, and Al refrained from looking at Morris, whose dark face was easily distinctive in the crowd. If something terrible had happened, Ed wouldn't have looked shocked. He would have smiled. He would have hidden his fate with a wave or a teasing word. For him to be so open about it, it had to have been something truly surprising to him.

And he doubted execution or even life in prison without parole would have been. It was Hakuro sitting there, looking at him with about as much warmth as a moonbeam. As relatively reasonable as he'd been being lately, Al knew better than to think it wasn't with purpose. Hakuro wanted something, something in return for all the hassle they'd caused him.

What could he have taken that would have made nii-san wear that look . . . ?

Al was centered before the panel of six, ensuring eye contact with each judge and spending no more time on one than any other. Tash was standing on the floor with him, indicating it was his show, and Al waited patiently for the heavy thunk of the doors behind him, signaling the room was ready to begin.

"I will have order." The general's voice was crisp and cool, and the murmuring room fell silent at once. "I call a start to the court martial of the Binding Life Alchemist Alphonse Elric, to answer to charges of criminal misconduct involving a detainee. Major General Lee Tash will lead the questioning."

Al gave him a calm look and received a wide, cold smile. "Good afternoon, Lieutenant Colonel Elric. Are you feeling better?"

It was an odd way to begin, and Al gave the major general a curiously baffled look. "Yes, sir." Too late he realized it probably was a little odd to see him running around so soon without the sling. Then again, he probably could have told him it was a false arm filled with a flesh-eating bacteria and it wouldn't have prevented the meaningless greeting from leading directly to the next question.

"I'm relieved to hear it. You were instrumental in protecting Amestris only a few weeks ago, during an attack on Jannai, isn't that right?"

Al was careful not to make a gesture, either in agreement or humility. "I wouldn't go that far, sir."

"You don't have to. Haven't you been reading the papers lately?" Tash strolled behind him before pausing. His voice seemed to be directed to the back of the room. "You stopped the non-certified alchemist Avram Blane from wiping out an entire town. You're a hero, Elric."

It didn't seem to need a response so he didn't give one. Obviously this was to lead up to the reasons he might have attacked Franklin; to punish him for what Blane had done. A valid tactic, though predictable.

"But then again, it's not your first time rescuing a town, is it? Is it perhaps becoming a bit monotonous?"

. . . a rather skewed approach, though. "Sir?"

"I simply mean you've done it before. Liore comes to mind, prior to the invasion of Central seven years ago. And in fact, your brother testified not an hour ago that you and he moved against the Amestrian military to save an unnamed Amestrian city from annihilation by Dante."

Al remained perfectly still. Dante . . . ? Ed had told them about Dante? "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, sir. I'm not sure I understand what you're referring to."

Tash turned towards him, his voice no less soft though it was now just behind his head. "The alchemist propping up the Bradley administration by propagating war. I realize you were young at the time, Alphonse, but your brother indicated that thwarting this alchemist was worth attacking two certified alchemists and his own commanding officer. I find it odd you would forget such a thing."

That was an interesting definition of Dante if ever he'd heard one. "At the time we were looking for her to prevent the attack , as opposed to actively defending a town." He allowed a measured pause. "Trust me, I could never forget."

"Ah, yes." Tash didn't draw it out, but there was an almost audible click as something slipped into place. What, Al couldn't guess, but he had a feeling he knew where it was going. "Not long after that, your brother vanished for years. And in fighting the enemy during the invasion of Central, you disappeared yourself. You have quite a history of risking your life to protect Amestris, Alphonse."

Why would Tash gloss over the part where he invited the invasion?

"So I suppose Jannai being threatened, by the once guardian of one of your own students, probably upset you a great deal, didn't it."

Al relaxed his hands, trying to look forward without actually staring at any one of the judges. "Amestris is my home, sir. It should be upsetting when she's under attack."

"Of course, of course." The squeak of uniform boots on the hardwood floor, as Tash turned once again to the room in general. "I simply wondered if this attack was more personal for you. Seeing as it should have been easily prevented by your student. Red Edward they call him, did you know?"

What a petty attempt. And to think he'd worried. "I'd heard something to that effect."

"But Franklin Sorn's not living up to the mantle, is he." Tash continued his pacing, coming back into Al's peripheral vision on the left. "He's supposed to be a genius on par with the great Elrics. His failure to notice such a plot in his own hometown must have disappointed you."

Al let his eyes flicker briefly to Hakuro's, but the salt and pepper general was giving him an expressionless look. "I was disappointed all right."

"And when he attempted escape from his holding cell, your pent-up frustration coupled with the heat of the moment caused you to lose your temper and strike him."

He was a little surprised that hadn't been elaborated into a two-fisted beating. "I was disappointed that someone who knew better would attempt to kill himself using a pointless transmutation."

The one problem with his plan of defense was that it was going to be very, very public knowledge that Sorn hadn't cared whether he lived or died. It wouldn't make the Prices very happy, and it would surely embarrass the boy when he returned to class, but that embarrassment was a good thing. It would help prevent the same from happening again.

"What do you mean?"

Al did not budge from parade rest. "Sorn heard that . . . that Timothy Patterson had inflicted injury upon himself. He had not been properly restrained since a previous incident of misconduct, and he used that oversight to escape. Sorn intended to use his own body as ingredients in an attempt to perform healing alchemy. However, due to the amount of blood lost, that transmutation would surely have killed him."

Tash twitched an eyebrow. "And how do you know his intentions, Alphonse? Did he tell you?"

In not so many words. "Russell Tringum was in the cell with me at the time, and neither of us knew why he had broken out of his cell, only that he had. We restrained him, and Franklin indicated that he wanted to heal the doctor. When we explained why we hadn't already done it, he said he didn't care that it would kill him."

"The record states both you and Russell Tringum did attempt to save the prisoner's life, and failed."

Alphonse gave a short nod. "Reconstructing blood cells with alchemy is nearly impossible. We can create a fluid that will at least carry oxygen and keep someone alive until a transfusion can be performed, but Patterson knew that, and he planned accordingly. He didn't want to be brought back."

"You sound as though you do not approve."

Al softened his glare by arranging his face in his best German inspection expression. "He was used, like Franklin, by Avram Blane. Timothy Patterson –"

"Attempted to kill the Prime Minister," the major general interrupted silkily. "I should expect that would anger you, whether he was your personal physician or not."

Oddly, if he pretended he was in an inspection line, it was easier to remain silent, and Tash let him stew before being satisfied that he would not attempt to defend the doctor again. "So you say that you struck the boy out of anger that he would attempt suicide, like Timothy Patterson had?"

". . . no, sir." Might as well bite the bullet. "I hit him because it was the only thing that would get his attention. What I had to say was important, and I needed to be sure that he heard it."

Tash spun on his heels, pulling a folder off the high table behind which the judges sat. He made a show of opening it, glancing a few pages up and down. "According to eyewitnesses, you instructed him to live with what he done, and move on, is that correct?"

"Yessir."

It flashed by so quickly Al wasn't sure he'd seen it; something close to hatred on the major general's face, but then it was gone. "So you believed he would attempt suicide again, if given a chance?"

And therein lay the rub. On the one hand, it could allow him a medical discharge from the military, which Al certainly did not want. It was better that he was under someone's thumb, so to speak, until he regained his confidence. On the other hand, it was true, and his own freedom might depend on it. Hakuro couldn't afford to go easy on him, not in front of so many people. "I did."

"Do you still?"

"Hard to say. I haven't spoken to him since the incident in question, obviously."

The corner of Tash's mouth turned up, but that hint of hatred remained. "Of course. As a lieutenant colonel, you are well aware of policy concerning the fair and appropriate treatment of prisoners, even those being tried for treason, are you not?"

"Yessir."

"And you knew it was misconduct to strike a prisoner?"

It took everything in him to prevent his inner Edward from rolling his eyes for him. "I wasn't thinking of military protocol, sir. I was thinking of my student's life."

"Do you feel that absolves you?"

Al felt his eyebrows raise slightly, and while he knew, he knew without a doubt that it was something Ed would and probably had already done, and it would cause him more trouble than he already had, he answered honestly. "Yes, I do."

A quick murmuring rose up, and Tash blinked at him, momentarily taken aback. Alphonse addressed the panel of judges. "You asked me if I thought Franklin Sorn was worthy to be called 'Red Edward,' and the answer is yes. The boy was the victim of unspeakable greed at a very young age. Do I feel that a slap administered to startle a young man out of suicidal thoughts is misconduct? No. I expressed to him exactly why I did it and I am fully confident he understood it was not meant as an interrogation mechanism or punishment."

The major general looked at him a long moment, then pressed his lips together. "Be that as it may, that decision rests with this panel. Is there any other statement you'd like to make in your defense?"

To repair what you've just done, went unspoken. But he heard it in Tash's voice just the same, and he shook his head. "No, sir."

"Very well. The judges shall enter the deliberation chambers."

Again, Al willingly met every judge's eye as they gathered their papers and filed out, and once they were gone, a slightly more casual atmosphere settled. Though several of his students tried to get his attention, Alphonse obediently remained at parade rest, there in the center of the courtroom, with not so much as a chair to hide him from scrutiny.

Actually, now that the questioning was over, it occurred to him that, for most people, this was probably the most intimidating thing that could ever happen to them. The thought made him smile, and the MP in front of him gave him a very odd look.

So much had happened in the past two weeks . . . nearly dying himself, suspecting nii-san dead, taking the Prime Minister hostage, even if only temporarily. To end it with something so, well, pedestrian . . . so many people in the room would never forget the moment they were handed a summons but to him, this entire proceeding was nothing but a disappointment. Whether he was found guilty or not, it didn't really matter. Ten years in prison for a slap, but if it meant Franklin went on and found a reason to keep going, ultimately it didn't mean much.

A decade was longer than four years, but what did prison mean to Alphonse Elric? He could put a piece of his soul into something and leave it with Ed, hell, if he perfected that or they transmuted something that wouldn't reject his soul so quickly, he could even give lectures and hold classes. Would Hakuro really take that into consideration? Al felt his smile growing wider and he gave the MP a conspiratory shrug to put the man's mind at ease.

Deliberation didn't take long, which Alphonse decided was a good thing, if only because it was less time he was standing there grinning like a loon, with a good three other alchemists in the wings that could probably guess what he found so funny and were already planning the betting pool on whether it would work. The judges seemed eager to be done, which Al also thought was probably a good thing.

Tash didn't keep him in suspense long. "Binding Life Alchemist Alphonse Elric, you have been judged by a panel of your superiors and found not guilty of criminal misconduct involving a detainee. Alphonse Elric is reinstated to his former rank of lieutenant colonel, and shall be returned to active duty immediately. This session is adjourned."

-x -

He looked up as the door opened; no knock, but then again, he knew who it was. A glance at his pocketwatch found the time about twenty minutes past what he would have guessed, and Edward Elric sighed, relaxing back in his chair as Al leaned in.

"She told me to collect you on my way."

"Uh-huh." Stalling, he took a deep breath before he got up, closing the folder on his desk and pretending he didn't see the fifty or so still sitting neatly in a pile beside it. The fact that they were in a neat pile on his desk meant he hadn't put them there or touched them, and Alphonse raised an eyebrow.

"You don't seem to have made much of a dent, there, nii-san."

"Other things on my mind." It sounded snappish, so he tempered it with a frown as he grabbed the jacket off the back of his chair. "I can't believe he refused to see us until today and now it's rush rush-"

"Because gee, I bet he couldn't have guessed that you'd accuse him of doing something-"

"Not the point, Al." Ed gave his desk a venomous look it didn't really deserve, stuffing his pocketwatch back into his pocket and circling the desk. "He's up to something. He's up to something and I'll bet you anything that the bastard knows what."

Al rolled his eyes, stepping back into the hall, and Ed was rather glad it was too early for most of the other staff to be there. Paise had done a good job of running the place while they were gone, but two weeks of total lack of administration had taken their toll, and there were too many things she couldn't do for them.

So she'd put them in neat folders and stacked them on his desk.

"Can't you just accept for once that something good happened?"

"No. This is the polar opposite of good. You know damn well-"

"-that both of us walked out of court martials without prison time." Al used his teaching voice. "And we can't be tried again for the same crime, so-"

Ed waved his hand through the air impatiently, walking in clipped strides towards the office. This eight am summons of Mustang's was going to interfere with class, and he needed Dueys to make the announcement. "So he'll get us for something else, something quiet that won't get him crucified in the papers."

It was the only thing he could think of that Hakuro would want more than them, and that was the Prime Minister's position. He'd need to remain popular to get it, and putting them behind bars was probably a crappy way to go. It would have to be for something far less fantastic than human transmutation.

Roughing up Sorn would probably have been perfect, if Amestris hadn't been convinced at the time that he was a traitor. Franklin's name had been cleared by Al's court martial, but just. If Al did anything like that again he'd be all but handing Hakuro his head on a plate.

"Nii-san-"

"I'm not going to trust him. He's not worth the risk." The trek down the hallway was at his usual pace, which was still making him uncomfortably aware of how short of breath he was, and he entered the main office in time to see Paise Dueys look up with a bright smile. Her cohort, Mira Bansk, was hanging her jacket on the coat tree, and as she crossed behind Duey's desk she nearly tripped over the back chair legs.

Paise's smile slipped, but only a little. "We're feeling rather miffed this morning?"

Ed scowled, following Mira's gaze to the far corner, where a familiar blond in Amestrian blue was leaning against the wall. Havoc gave him a lazy wave, and behind Ed, Al piped up. "Can you please cancel both our eight am classes?"

A note on her pink pad. "Shall I reschedule?"

Probably unnecessary. Ed didn't even bother to look back at her. "What's one more syllabus date shifted, in the great scheme of things."

"Both classes will be cancelled. Your driver notified me that I should not expect you back until this afternoon," she added, making a little flourish beneath the note she'd written herself. When neither of them said anything, Havoc gave them a lazy grin.

Ed's frown deepened, and he cocked his head toward his brother. "You know, I can't tell if Hawkeye's punishing him, or doesn't trust us."

"Probably a little of both."

"I'm standing right here, you know," the lieutenant colonel drawled, and Al broke their conspiratory glance to catch Mira's eyes.

"Are you okay?"

The other woman was massaging her foot and giving Paise glares that were genuine in their frustration, and she jumped at the address. "Oh, yes sir! Just surprised to see you both here is all. Paise, isn't there something you wanted to notify Alphonse of when he returned?"

It was a rather odd segue, and Paise shook her head sharply, ripping the note off her pad and beginning another one. Probably to tack onto the doors to let their students know that once again, their classes were being interrupted. They'd all but had a three week vacation, and it was going to push back certification exams, research –

Winry would kill him if he couldn't make it back to Resembool by the holidays.

"Oh, yes, Alphonse, there were a couple phone calls for you, but I left those messages on your desk."

"Oh, right." Al shook his head in amusement. "I still have Bert's car. The old man from Jannai I was telling you about?"

"Well, if he was evacuated with all the rest, he can drive it back himself." Trust Al to be worried about that after everything else that had happened.

"I thought it might be nice to make some improvements to it, since I kept it so long-"

"And speaking of driving," Havoc murmured, stepping off the wall to catch Ed's shoulder.

"The bastard can wait for us for once." It came out a bit more bitter than he intended, and Havoc gave him a strange look before the grip on his shoulder changed from friendly to firm.

"Al, give us a minute, would you?"

Ed was propelled out of the office before he even realized what was going on, and he did not resist in the slightest as Havoc all but dragged him down the hall. "Whoa, Havoc, I was kidding-"

"I know." It was easy but there was an undercurrent of something business-like beneath. "But that's a hell of a defensive attitude you're carrying around."

They stopped almost out of earshot of the office, and Ed let his confusion show, bad mood momentarily forgotten. "What do you mean? Mustang-"

Havoc released him to wave his hand. "I'm not talking about Mustang. If you weren't giving him hell I'd say you still needed to be in the hospital."

This didn't clear things up at all. ". . . I don't get it."

Jean gave him another strange look, this one dimming to incredulousness when it became apparent that he really didn't have the faintest clue what Havoc was talking about. ". . . you're shitting me, right?"

"Uh . . . what are we talking about?"

Jean thumbed over his shoulder. "Al and the cute secretary."

Mira wasn't exactly the easiest on the eyes, so Havoc had to be talking about Paise. "Oh, the 'we' thing is kind of an inside joke-"

Havoc shook his head, his brows furrowing before an odd little smile crossed his features. "You didn't even notice, did you."

The bad mood resurfaced. "Notice what?" So Mira was acting a little oddly, but she was kind of a klutz and thought she was a psychic. She was rather odd by definition, sort of his own neurotic Sheska. "Spit it out." Al and Paise . . . but what . . .

Havoc was clearly enjoying watching him figure it out. "So Al wasn't playing it off either. You really had no idea."

Paise did light up every time Al was in the room, but she'd done that forever, and it was only because he was usually grumpy in the mornings and Al was a column of fucking sunshine at five am. Al had told him she'd been terrified of him when she'd first come to work at the Academy, which meant they'd talked about it, but-

But Al wasn't usually oblivious to those sorts of things, and he would have mentioned it. Surely would have mentioned it. "You think Al . . . and Paise . . .?" He scoffed. "No offense, Havoc, but . . . your track record, it's not . . . well, you're still-"

"Single?" Havoc crossed his arms and leaned against the wall again, and Ed wondered how he'd ever managed to stand at parade rest for the hours necessary to pass boot camp. "That's 'cause I've been waiting for a girl to look at me the way she's lookin' at your brother."

It might have been corny, but Havoc looked so serious, and Ed stuffed his hands in his pockets and mirrored Havoc's position. Al and Paise . . . well, that could make sense. She was sweet, competent, pretty . . . but he wasn't really sure she could keep up with Al-

Then again, Al was in many ways less competitive than he was. Al might not need someone who could keep up with him the same way Ed did. Winry was a genius in her own right, and wouldn't hesitate to beat him the moment he forgot it, but that just didn't fit in with Al. That could be the reason Al seemed so . . . not jealous.

And Havoc thought he'd been being an ass in the office because he didn't approve. So Paise might as well. Ed tipped his head back on the wall. "Crap."

"What? You don't like her?"

"I like her fine." Mira had said there was something Paise wanted to tell Al . . . but wouldn't with them standing there. Havoc was probably right. He'd seen in fifteen seconds something Ed hadn't even noticed. "It'll just be a pain if she asks Al out right before we go deal with the bastard."

"Why? He doesn't handle women so well?"

Ed scowled. Al handled women – particularly German women – better than he did. "He'll be so freakin' happy he won't be paying attention."

"So you're just pissed off there won't be someone at your back."

Ed cocked an eyebrow. "This coming from someone that shot me." It might be too early to joke about it, still, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up. "Hakuro's gonna be there, isn't he."

"Dunno."

"I thought you were assigned to Hawkeye these days . . . why are you still shuttling us around?"

Havoc gave him the same slightly stupid look he wore when he wanted someone else to think something had gone over his head. "Followin' orders."

". . . you know, Al had a crush on Hawkeye when he was a kid."

Havoc smirked. "You're really not jealous then?"

The office door clicked open, and both of them glanced over to see Al's head poking out into the hall. He didn't look as though anything mind-blowing had happened. No shell-shock, no dazed look. Only quiet inquisitiveness.

Then again, Al was a really good liar. Ed made a mental note to quietly fish for clues after their meeting with Mustang.

Apparently their casual posture put Al's mind to rest. "Is it safe to come out yet?"

-x-

By the time Havoc had them in the car, on their way, Ed had no better indication that anything had happened. Al seemed exactly as he had been before, as tolerant of his crankiness concerning Mustang's summons, as lighthearted with Havoc, and as level-headed as usual. Despite warnings of a certain lieutenant colonel, they arrived with time to spare, and Ed noticed both of them look towards the empty display glass at the top of the stairs as they passed it.

Al looked almost sad. "Jade dragon's still missing. I wonder if he's ever going to put anything back in there."

"Didn't someone say something about a trip to Xing to see if the maker would repair it?"

Al glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Nii-san?"

"Yeah?"

"You remember what happened the last time we were there, right?"

Ed rubbed the back of his neck, letting unwanted memories resurface. "I didn't say we would be going to Xing. I said someone."

"Just . . . if we get volunteered, we'll have to explain why we can't go, and-" Al lowered his voice. "If you're right about Hakuro looking for a reason to throw us in prison, that would be it."

Particularly if the royal family was able to recognize them. That wretched commander of the Cretians had, and Ed had a feeling the royal family of Xing had a long memory. "Right. How about we don't mention it then."

"I think that's a good plan."

Havoc was looking between the two of them curiously. "So," he drawled after a moment, "what did you two do in Xing?"

"Nothing," they both responded quickly, and Ed grinned to himself. Now that Hawkeye didn't answer directly to Mustang, he wondered how long it would take this little tidbit of information to trickle to Mustang. Which brought him back to the summons at hand, and when they crossed into the lobby outside the Prime Minister's office, Ed was a little surprised when Challiel stopped her conversation with a short-haired blonde and held up a gentle hand.

"The Prime Minister's previous meeting is still in session. Please make yourselves comfortable."

He was even more surprised when her conversation partner turned, and it was none other than Colonel Riza Hawkeye.

Ed blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You cut your hair."

Riza Hawkeye gave them both a bland smile that turned quite genuine when their shock continued. "Good afternoon, lieutenant colonel." She waved away Al's hasty salute, looking Ed up and down when he didn't even bother. "I trust they were no problem, Havoc?"

"No more than usual."

"But you don't work here anymore," Ed's mouth continued, while his brain slapped its hand over its forehead. "I mean, for Mustang. What are you doing here?" If Mustang wanted to see both him and Hawkeye, who now had a command, sort of an academy of her own for snipers, then what-

"Good morning, Hawkeye, it's good to see you," Al said slowly, as if a child or a foreigner was in the room and he needed to set a good example. "Enjoying life with your new command?"

"Too early to tell." Her smile continued, though, and she might as well have been the woman they first met when Ed had become nationally certified. Quiet, confident, bobbed hair and long bangs, she looked every inch the officer you would expect to put a group of green snipers through their paces. Somehow there was less tension singing through her frame. She looked happy.

Which wasn't to say she'd been unhappy before, was it? Ed searched his memory briefly before he decided it didn't really matter. If she was happy now, that was certainly a good thing. "Nothing they do to you can be worse than what Havoc and Breda already put you through."

She raised an elegant eyebrow. "Havoc and Breda by themselves were quite easy to manage. Adding a certain young Elric to the mix was what turned things toxic."

Al snorted with laughter. "What, they acted up more because nii-san was around?"

"Hey, I didn't make anybody start smoking-"

"Everyone brings it up like it's a flaw," Havoc complained, and gave his commanding officer an apologetic shoulder shrug. "Their return vehicle has been arranged, if you're ready?"

She nodded once, and Ed recalled his earlier question. "So . . . you're not part of this meeting with Mustang?"

"As you so recently pointed out, I don't work here anymore," she murmured coolly, and he had the good grace to grimace slightly at his own tactlessness. "Sheska was certain there were some files we failed to transfer, so she's tracking them down. I had some paperwork for Personnel, and Havoc was specifically requested to gather and transport the two of you, so –"

"Why Havoc?" Might as well find out if it was the punishment he'd thought it was-

"He has the highest success rate of anyone in the military," she responded, and a door banging open to their left attracted their attention.

Ed watched Al wave to a red-faced Breda, carrying a pile of boxes that almost reached up to his forehead. Sheska was scurrying along behind him, murmuring something about exerting himself, and squeaked when she caught sight of them.

"He won't put them down! Sirs!" she added quickly.

"For pete's sake, I'm fine. They're not heavy-"

For not being heavy, he did look a little out of breath, and Ed couldn't quite quell a small pang of guilt when Havoc moved past the two of them swiftly but casually, divesting his friend of half his burden while Sheska continued to apologize to Hawkeye for letting him carry them in the first place. If Breda minded the help he didn't show it, and there was a ghost of his former facial hair creeping down his left cheek when he turned to greet Al.

Thoughts of Irving turned him back to thoughts of Mustang, and the conversation he'd never gotten with the man. Al had been there the last time he'd spoken with Mustang, and there were a few things he really needed to tell the bastard before Hakuro arrived. Assuming that wasn't who he was in with now.

An idea occurred to Ed, and he grinned at Breda's 'save me' expression while giving the room a once-over. Challiel was ignoring him, trying to calm Sheska, whose voice was rising in pitch as she enumerated the various files she still could not find, and both Al and Hawkeye were similarly engaged. Only Goodman gave him an odd look as Ed wandered casually over to the first conference room, but he pretended to ignore him and slipped in as if aimlessly meandering.

There was more than one door to the Prime Minister's office, after all. He could duck his head in, see who it was, and determine if what he had to say trumped whatever was going on in there. Or if it was Hakuro, in which case he could be blunt and get to the point before anyone else showed up.

The door between the seven conference rooms and the Prime Minister's office was locked, but it wasn't a particularly complicated one, and the door opened soundlessly.

And it occurred to Ed, belatedly, that maybe he should have just waited until Mustang was ready to see them. Since he was standing there at his desk, holding a strapless lavender gown against his chest and hugging it around the middle as if he was afraid it was going to get away.

"You can't measure length that way," a reedy voice crackled at him, and the short, hunched figure of an old woman tottered into view between the chairs in front of his desk. "The hem is fine."

"I don't doubt your skills for a moment," Mustang said smoothly, and Ed just stood in the doorway, dumbstruck. "I'm just . . . surprised it's so long."

The old woman – she had to be older than the first body of Dante's he'd met – crossed her arms, as if to stop herself from snatching the garment away from him. "Military personnel hold their shoulders square. Extra half-inch in the back to compensate."

"Of course." He surrendered the gown, and behind him, Ed thought he heard motion. He slipped in before Goodman could stop him, closing the door gently behind him, and Roy's eye turned toward the motion.

For a tense second they merely stared at each other, and then Roy shook his head. "Come in," he murmured unnecessarily, and the old woman gave him a hard look up and down as he approached the desk, feeling suddenly very much like he had seven years ago when he'd leveled a town during a mission. Even though he'd put it back together before he'd left, he still felt like he'd just disappointed Mustang somehow.

"It's lovely," he continued to the woman Ed recognized as his seamstress, and now that he was closer he could see that the gown bore a small amount of beadwork, almost a sash down the side in a design he couldn't quite grasp before the woman was tottering away with the thing, back to a tailor's bag laying on the larger conference table.

"So it's adequate then?" she pressed, and Roy's lips quirked.

"More than adequate."

"Assuming you guessed right on the color." But there was something underneath the old woman's perpetually unhappy tone, and Ed felt a small smile of his own as it clicked.

"Finally asked Hawkeye on a date, huh."

"That would be none of your business, Fullmetal," Mustang replied, giving him more of his attention. "I believe our meeting is scheduled for ten minutes from now."

"Wanted to talk to you before then. About-"

There was a sharp knock on the door, and it was opened to reveal Goodman. Ed gave him a disarming smile, and if possible, the burly bodyguard glowered further. "Prime Minister-"

Roy just waved him off. "It's a different Elric this time." Ed had little time to reason what that meant before Al's curious face appeared behind Goodman, and something in Mustang deflated, just a little bit. "Show them in," he continued in a rather defeated tone, and his guard gave him what was clearly an apologetic look before stepping back.

"Different Elric-"

"Not another word, Fullmetal."

His seamstress wasn't finished putting the gown away before Al stepped in, followed by Hawkeye with a curious Havoc tagging along. If the colonel seemed surprised by Mustang's 'guest' she gave no hint, and the seamstress sighed in a very put-upon way and fully removed the gown from the bag once again.

"Now that you're here anyway," she grunted, with no look at the rather strangled expression on her employer's face. "Go. Let me see the hem length."

He expected her to blow up, or say something scathing or biting, but instead she blushed – blushed! – and did as she was instructed, being herded by the seamstress the entire time into the Prime Minister's private bath. Havoc was almost slackjawed and Al didn't look much better, and Mustang waited until both women had shut the door before he sighed.

Ed cringed. "I-"

"Don't follow orders very well," Roy cut in warningly, and Ed shut his mouth. So clearly that was supposed to be both a surprise and a secret, and he'd-

Almost like he'd possibly blown it for Al. Winry was going to wet herself laughing when he told her about this.

Havoc coughed lightly. "Uh, you really think it's okay to let the two of them . . . I mean, she's fierce-"

"Was there anything I can do for you, lieutenant colonel?"

"She made your Cretian uniform," Al said suddenly. "So she's really as bad as she looks?"

Mustang apparently decided that all was lost and took his seat behind his desk. "Worse. But she does excellent work."

There was another quiet knock at the still-open door, and Challiel gave Mustang a practiced smile. She obviously knew that her boss's surprise was blown, and adding insult to injury was pretty harmless at this point. "General Hakuro and Major Sorn are here."

He made a come hither motion, and Ed watched in surprise as the general entered, followed by a thin ghost of the young man he hadn't seen since before his execution by the Cretians. Franklin had always obeyed dress code, wearing Amestrian blue at all required occasions, but somehow seeing him in it really drove home the fact that he was tied to the military, literally tied by his sentence, and the general that was walking in front of him had something to do with that.

Tringum had said he was almost unrecognizable, and it wasn't far from the truth. His face was much thinner than Ed remembered, and he wasn't a fat kid to start. His mechanical mannerisms faltered when he passed Al and Havoc, and Ed saw a brief flash of something ugly cross Jean's face.

Franklin chose to stand on Hakuro's right, placing the general between himself and everyone else, almost like a shield, and Ed nearly shook his head.

Of all the people in the room, Hakuro was the worst shield he could think of.

Mustang didn't beat around the bush. "General, Major." He waved everyone closer to his desk rather than at the conference table, and Ed saw his brother's lips thin. He didn't necessarily disagree with Mustang wanting to intimidate Sorn, though, and he wasn't sure why Al would feel otherwise. It might have been the first time Sorn had even been in the same room with Mustang since his trial, and he had almost succeeded in getting the other alchemist killed.

Besides, his seamstress's garment bag was still on the conference table. He hoped Hawkeye had the good sense to stay where she was as soon as she heard their voices.

"Franklin Sorn, you are here to be assigned to your parole officer. General, have you chosen such an officer?"

Hakuro gave Roy a long look, then made an interesting choice to drop the formal tone Mustang had set. "The fact that he is an officer keeps me up at night." Hakuro glanced at him, and Ed tried to keep his face relatively neutral. Hakuro would choose the most insidious officer he had, because of course Sorn's new parole officer could go anywhere Sorn could go, and since he was still a certified alchemist and still had to attend the Academy, it was giving Hakuro an unprecedented in into alchemist territory.

Hell, he might assign Tash. Except he was too high-ranking.

"In my selection process, I took into account the special circumstances and skills of the officer under probation. Despite his already heavy responsibilities, I feel Edward Elric is the best choice, at least until evaluation in a year's time."

Ed blinked.

"Edward Elric, do you accept this responsibility?"

"Can I say no?" he asked bluntly, glancing again to see that Franklin was looking at some point about two inches off the floor. Not even meeting his eyes. "I don't see Franklin Sorn anywhere in this room."

The boy didn't move, and Ed sighed impatiently despite a warning look from his brother. "Besides, it would be a bit awkward, wouldn't it? We're both the same rank."

"Lieutenant Colonel is a higher rank than Major," Roy observed blandly.

Ed considered that for a long moment. Buying his acceptance of the order with a rank equivalent to Al's. Did he really care that much?

As if the rank meant anything. And as if he'd really let Franklin go at this point. He wasn't just unrecognizable. He might no longer even be an alchemist. "Already signed the paperwork, didn't you."

"Two days ago. Congratulations on your promotion, lieutenant colonel." Hakuro might as well have been talking about a hemorrhoid flare-up. "You are required by law to have at least one meeting a week with Major Sorn, to evaluate his progress and ensure he is no longer a threat to Amestris. If a mission or another assignment makes that inconvenient, you may elect another officer of sufficient rank to have the meeting in your stead, as long as you give that officer and Sorn a full two days' notice of the change."

Ed crossed his arms. "And what progress do you want him to make? Perhaps eye contact again?"

Sorn shifted his weight but remained staring at that same point of Mustang's desk. Al opened his mouth, but Ed shook his head silently.

Hakuro glanced between the two of them. "He is still a valuable National Alchemist, and I would be disappointed if the State military gained no new technology during the next three years."

It was hard to tell if Hakuro was trying to play off him or honestly meant to make his expectations clear. Either way Ed stared steadily at Franklin. He couldn't be used to this kind of treatment, he was a hero of his hometown and respected, at the very least, back at the Academy. He would have no friends there now, Mustang and even he himself were too popular and those attacks would leave scars that the boy might never recover from. That Al was willing to stand up for him said a lot.

About Al, the darker part of his mind murmured sardonically, and Ed wondered what the next Mustang thing to say would be. I'm already disappointed? Isn't he a little small for such high hopes?

He'd have to be careful of the short jokes, or Franklin would catch on.

"I expected that you'd want a little more say in the rest of your life, Sorn."

"What's the point?" It was mumbled, but at least it was an answer. "Even if I said I wanted to resign, would the military let me?"

Ed glanced at Mustang, who had folded his hands beneath his chin and was wearing that damnable unreadable look. He sure as hell hadn't let Al quit. "It doesn't have the best track record when it comes to resignation of State Alchemists, no."

Franklin shrugged, and then dragged his eyes up so they were looking somewhere at Ed's mouth. "I don't want to do this anymore."

He was rather proud of Al for continuing to remain silent, as did the general and Mustang, letting him soak the boy in silence for a moment or two. He had said something so personal so openly, in front of a complete stranger who obviously didn't like him, and Ed wondered if he himself had done the same thing when having a crisis of faith.

"Fantastic. I don't want you to do this anymore either."

Franklin was shocked enough to actually look at his eyes.

"I don't like war and I don't like homunculi. I don't like putting people back together after transmutations gone wrong. And I hate the array Blane gave you." Better throw that in before Hakuro got impatient that he wasn't hearing anything good. "How about you try using alchemy for what it's for."

Sorn knew exactly where it was going but he dropped his eyes again rather than drum up the energy to contradict him, and Ed stifled an eyeroll. "You really want to leave Jannai without an alchemist? They started off with two."

The boy twitched. "I can't go back there."

Ed didn't have a lot of room on the subject of home so he didn't pursue it. "Let me put it to you this way. For the next three years you belong to the State. If you want to give up alchemy after that, fine. You can spend the next three years learning some kind of marketable skill so you have a job when you get out. General Hakuro aside, I don't really care what you study so long as you don't try to destroy the known universe."

Franklin didn't look back up at him, but the boy's mouth was drawn tight in a little bow. Much like he'd been at that age, Ed couldn't imagine a life without alchemy. Not even when he'd gone to the alter-Earth had he managed to completely push it from his mind. Franklin was far too used to being a respected genius in this field, throwing it away sounded good until you realized there had to be something after.

"Considering the circumstances, am I allowed to name the other lieutenant colonel Elric as my backup?"

Hakuro gave him a dirty look. "Use your best judgment." He said it like he had no trust that Ed actually had any, and Ed returned the look with one of his own.

"Tringum would be a good choice, then, if you've cleared him?"

"No!" It was small but insistent, and Edward saw a frightened fifteen year old where a mature young adult had once been. "I-I don't want to-"

"What you want," Mustang interrupted him, "is not up for discussion." He picked up his pen, making himself a note in a small journal even while he commanded Franklin's undivided attention. "You had the trust of this country, its citizens, and its leaders. You abused and spent that trust. The only way for you to start earning it back is to put others before yourself, even if that means doing something you don't want to do. That is what you agreed to when you became a State Alchemist."

Sorn dropped his eyes again, and Ed glanced at Mustang to see thinly veiled exasperation in the man's visible eye. Clearly that little spiel was just as much for his benefit as it had been for Franklin's. Not because it wasn't obvious what he was doing to Franklin, but to give him a graceful way to accept the order without looking like he wanted to.

Ed crossed his arms and sighed. "Fine. I take it I need to approve his annual report before it makes it to your desk?"

Roy gave him a droll look. "That shouldn't be necessary, Fullmetal. After all, you will be monitoring every stage of every project or interest he picks up for the next year. Submit biweekly reports to this office. General, what documentation will you be needing?"

"Copies of those documents should be fine."

Of course Hakuro wasn't going to give them Franklin without getting something in return.

"Very well. Franklin Sorn, Edward Elric, you have your orders."

Sorn looked slightly panicked when his shield moved away, leaving him to the horrors that were the Elrics, and Ed didn't hassle him further, just glanced back at Mustang's desk. "Havoc said we'd be out till the afternoon."

Roy gave him another unreadable look. "I assume you will be. Academy responsibilities will need to be reorganized in the face of this assignment. Alphonse, your brother has never been particularly skilled at delegation. See if you can broaden his horizons a little."

Alphonse raised an eyebrow. "That's a tall order, sir."

Roy paused, lips quirking, and Ed narrowed his eyes. "Don't," he growled sharply. "even go there."

"Why, Fullmetal, I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Let's go, Sorn," he grumbled, turning on his heels and marching across the room. Hakuro was already well on his way, and the glaring hulk that was Goodman was there when Ed reached the doorjamb, trying to ignore the sound of Al's quiet murmuring and a chuckle out of the Prime Minister. Instead, he frowned up – and he hated to admit it was up, damn them for making fun of him in front of Franklin – at the larger man. Something about his expression made Ed decide that maybe right this moment wasn't the best time to press his luck by asking what 'different Elric' meant, so he simply passed by without word, waiting impatiently in the lobby for Al to wander out.

Sorn stopped obediently with him, and Ed watched him out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be more irritated by the short jokes than he really was. While what Mustang had said would have seriously affected Ed when he'd been fifteen, he knew that Roy and Sorn weren't that close. The kid had been using him for information much like Ed had tried to do, but Franklin had probably not even gotten as far as he had in that department. It was hard to say how hard they'd been on him, and Ed was obviously not as good at reading people as he'd like to think. Not if he'd overlooked Paise.

"So I guess we need to lay down some ground rules."

Franklin didn't say a word.

"I don't have time to babysit you. You know what you need to be doing. If you skip class, expect me to find you, and if you don't have a very clever excuse, we'll use that time to work on your close combat skills."

He said nothing else, and eventually Sorn ventured to speak. "How would you like your reports?"

More paperwork. Lovely. Then again, if he had to give them to Hakuro, he hardly wanted to have to write them himself. "Complete enough for military work. The rest you can give to me verbally. If you leave anything out-"

"We'll work on my close combat skills. I get it."

Ed gave him a dark look. "Don't let me down."

Franklin glanced at the doorway, though Al and Havoc were apparently still talking to the Prime Minister. "I did try to . . . to transmute without an array, I just-"

"Didn't," he finished shortly. Then he decided that was going a bit too far. He didn't want to alienate Franklin. He just wanted to give him some room to go up. "Don't worry about it. I didn't figure it out until a woman was going into labor in front of me."

The slightest glint of curiosity, so slight he might have imagined it. ". . . I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as you will be."

For some reason, that seemed to relax Franklin, just a little. The normalcy of their conversation. "Your brother said the same thing."

Ed grunted, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing at the door as well. In a second he was going to go back in there just to make sure Mustang and Al weren't plotting something behind his back. "He knows me pretty well."

Nothing else was said while they waited, and soon enough Al came through the doors, flanked by Havoc. Jean had been laughing, but he let it drain from his face the moment he laid eyes on them, and Ed made a mental note of it. Of course, Havoc had shot him, but he'd watched Franklin sit there and try – and fail – to transmute a way out. And the kid had tried to have Mustang killed.

Maybe giving the kid assignments with the military period wouldn't be such a good idea, either. At least not for a while.

"For a minute I thought I'd have to go rescue you." He craned his neck as Goodman closed the door. "I take it we're leaving Hawkeye in there?"

Al shrugged, glancing at Havoc. "Did you know about that?"

The lieutenant colonel shook his head, looking around for presumably Challiel. "Nope."

"Sheska and Breda are waiting downstairs," the woman said helpfully, and then cleared her throat. "Did I hear correctly that the Prime Minister needs some assistance?"

That was an understatement. "Perhaps an opinion," Al tried diplomatically, and she schooled her expression into one of seriousness as she passed them. Havoc watched her go almost sadly.

"You should take Bread and Sheska back. I'm sure Mustang will arrange Hawkeye's transportation."

Ed silently thanked Al, though he saw that Havoc wasn't going to need much persuasion. "It's a pretty short walk, and we need to talk anyway."

To his credit, Havoc made one more attempt. "Are you sure your doctor's not going to skin my hide for this?"

"No," both he and Al responded at once, and Al snickered. "She's not as bad as the seamstress, though."

Probably.

Havoc did crack a smile at that, though a reluctant one, and it was only a few minutes before they found themselves out in the bright morning sunlight. Breda was standing at the curb, ripping what little hair he had out as he watched Sheska maneuver the car through the parking lot with painful slowness, and Al blinked.

"I didn't know Sheska could drive."

"I dunno that I'd call that driving, Al."

He snorted. "I don't know that you're the best judge-"

Ed looked heavenward and groaned. "Drop it already, I haven't wrecked a car in . . ." He considered. "Technically he wrecked the last car." And he jerked his head in Franklin's direction.

Al said nothing at first, and they headed off at a rather relaxed pace with a wave to Hawkeye's men. When they were well out of earshot, Al turned to look at Sorn.

"So let's talk about transmuting without arrays."

- x -

FIN

- x -

Author's Notes: I know, you guys are wondering what happened to this story. And I made you wait forever for the last chapter. Because this, folks? This was the last chapter. It took me something ridiculous like five months to write this chapter. And do you know why?

Because it didn't have enough Havoc in it. The moment he played a more important role, the thing was right back on track again. Thanks to silverfox2702 for making the suggestion!

There will be several other chapters posted, the notes for the fic as well as all the deleted/rewritten scenes. I'll format that and get it out in a few days. But most importantly – I think the plotholes are wrapped up. The court martials are over, the boys are home free, Edward is a little walking talking Roy Mustang, complete with hated paperwork and an annoying young subordinate, Pinako will recover . . . life will be okay.

And NO, the trip to Xing is not a sequel opening. Not not not.

Thank all of you so much for reading and enjoying! If there's anything you recall that I failed to wind up, please do let me know! There could be something in it for you . . . (NO, not another sequel. This was forty-three chapters of crack, folks.) All that said, I loved writing it, and I am so, so, so thrilled that so many of you have enjoyed it and come along for the ride!

As usual, no beta, and I'll go back and clean up what's been commented on. Again, thank you thank you thank you and I hope your Thanksgiving was lovely, and your Christmas holiday will be as well.