In case anyone actually remembers how they reviewed...

toobeauty: Aww, Ember loves her Ed. **huggles** And soon the torture will end. Very soon.

Bursting-Bubbles: Ember was actually kind of worried about her Hughes. Glad you love him!

xLacri: Thanks, hun, for the lovely review. Here's more for you.

nuclearXsquid: Happiness comes soon... after a little more torture.

PaperBagGhost: Everything Ember writes is interesting, in one way or another... or so she hopes, anyway. :D

kataang816: Ember can't wait either. She's getting rather frustrated with her Ed and Roy who simply can't get over themselves and hook up already.

kristen: No, it won't end yet! And no, that's an entirely different backstory...

Ember's sorry this is so late! She was... well, she was rather depressed for a week, apathetic and suffering from writer's block for two weeks after that, participating in the pit orchestra for her school's winter performance (West Side Story is an amazing musical, but it has really really hard music!), and suddenly it had been forever since she updated.

Forgive her for the delay!

Chapter 11: Caught

The Monday after homecoming weekend, Roy caught wind of a rumor going through the band that there were a pair of notes to him and Ed taped up in a practice room. No one could agree on the possible content of the notes, though. Some believed that it was general hate mail, a few believed that it was a death threat or two, and it was even mentioned that the notes could be love letters. Feeling rather confused by this discrepancy, Roy decided it was time to investigate.

When he walked down the hallway, he noted that Maes had stolen a couch from the theater room and set it so it was blocking the practice room in question. He also noticed that many a band student had congregated around Maes and his couch, wondering just what the hell was going on.

Realizing he was one of those curious band students, he snapped, "Maes, what the hell is going on?"

"Well," his friend drawled, "I happened to be walking by when I noticed this practice room was open and something was in it for you and Ed. I know band kids are nosy as hell," he directed at the congregation around him, "so I borrowed this couch from my dear friends down the hall to keep them out. We all know about those theater kids and how they treat this couch, don't we?"

At Maes' words, the entire crowd shrank as far away from the couch as the hallway and their own curiosity would allow. No one was exactly sure what exactly was on that couch, as new rumors flew from the theater department daily, and no one wanted to be the first to find out.

"Anyhow," Maes cheerfully continued, "You should probably get Ed and look into it. They won't leave you alone until you do."

Sighing at his friend's antics, he left to find Ed, taking a moment to reflect on recent happenings.

Recently Ed had been increasingly distant, finding excuses to leave as soon as possible when Roy entered a room. Roy was not sure what was going on, but he was fairly certain he had not done anything different or offensive in the past month.

Then again, the awkwardness had multiplied after their impromptu sleepover the previous week. Maybe that had contributed to why Ed was avoiding him to the point that it was nearly impossible to give him his phone back.

Once more Roy sighed. Hopefully Ed would actually agree to go with him, if only to disband the crowd that was clogging the hallway and to get Maes to return the couch.

Finally he found Ed staring pensively at the piano in the band room, ghosting his fingers over the keys without actually playing a note. "You play?" he asked, curious enough to forget temporarily the commotion in the hallway.

Ed jumped. "No," he muttered, turning to walk away. Before he could, though, Roy grabbed his arm.

"Listen, I can tell you don't want to talk to me, and I'll deal with that later," Roy began, "but for now could you just follow me? If you don't Maes won't return the couch he stole from the theater department."

Ed turned back to face him, a single eyebrow raised. "He stole the couch?"

"Yeah."

"And what on earth possessed him to steal the couch?"

"I'm not really sure. But he wants you to follow me and talk to him."

Miraculously, Ed followed him into the hallway.

Ed really wasn't sure to make of the situation. Roy's friend had stolen the theater couch? Had he not heard the rumors associated with that couch?

It seemed he hadn't, as he was sprawled comfortably across it in the middle of the hallway eyeing the crowd that had congregated around him. Upon seeing the two of them, though, he jumped up with a grin. "Roy! Ed!" he shouted jovially. "Glad to see you!"

"What on earth are you doing?" Ed asked, ignoring the warm welcome. He wanted to get this over with and go away, the sooner the better. It was awkward enough as it was.

"Well," Maes drawled, "I was hoping you could assuage the curiosity of all these lovely little kitties here and find out what those are." He jerked a thumb toward the practice room immediately behind him.

Somewhat curious himself, Ed walked into the practice room, finding two folded notes taped to the wall. One bore his name, and the other Roy's. Both names appeared to have been written by the same hand, one that was either very neat for a male or rather sloppy for a female. Apart from that, Ed could deduce nothing from the handwriting.

Waving Roy into the room, he slowly walked toward the note with his name on it and peeled it off the wall, only to hear the sound of a closing door. Ignoring it, Ed proceeded to read the note.

Because you won't do this yourself, I decided to take a step to help you out. The two of you need to talk about more than just your classes; that much is obvious.

Stop worrying so much. I've seen the way he looks at you, and I can assure you that you have nothing to lose and everything to gain from talking to him.

As a precaution, because I know by now you'll probably want to bolt for the door, I've blocked it. Good luck escaping.

The note was signed by Maes.

Cursing the older teen's idiocy and meddling nature, Ed ran to the door, only to find that it wouldn't open. Looking through the tiny window in the door, he noticed that the couch had been pushed up against the door and a string had been tied around the handle and attached to one of the legs of the couch to prevent the door from opening.

Growling another curse, Ed made a crude gesture as Maes' grinning head popped into his view. The head quickly disappeared as something black shrouded the window.

Someone, most likely Maes, had clearly thought this through and had it in for him.

This was going to be interesting.

Roy had not even begun to read before Ed started cussing. Looking up curiously, he murmured, "Is there a problem!"

"Yes!" Ed snarled, whipping around and looking rather like a wild cat. "Your idiot friend shut us in here and used the couch to block the door!"

"But the door opens this way," Roy pointed out sensibly.

"Not when he ties the fucking handle to the couch, it doesn't!" Ed shouted, curling up into a corner. "Face it! We're stuck here, and it's all his fault!"

Well, Roy thought, this would be interesting. Attempting to find out what Maes was trying to accomplish, he returned to his note.

Stop beating about the bush. You're only hurting him.

I gave you this opportunity for a reason. Don't waste it, idiot. I won't hesitate to make you both miss practice if I don't see visible progress. Yes, I will be checking in on you every now and then, and you will stay there until I get my desired result. I don't care how long it takes, so you had better get a move on.

Mess this up and I'm killing you,

Maes

This really would be interesting. Roy actually had very little idea what Maes was referring to. He gathered that he wanted the two of them to talk, but he wasn't sure exactly of the topic. Feeling rather confused, he asked Ed, "Did the note he left you make any sense?"

Ed's face reddened. "A little, you?"

"Not at all. Just said that he won't hesitate to make us miss practice. What did you gather from yours?"

Clearly, Ed did not wish to talk about whatever Maes had left for him, for he was silent and attempts to obtain his note proved futile to the point that Ed tore it up and sat on the scraps.

What exactly was Ed trying to hide?

If direct interrogation wouldn't work, Roy reasoned, he would simply have to gently prod it out of him. There was only one problem with that, though. Ed could be very stubborn when he wanted to be, and since he had decided he wasn't talking to Roy, that was unlikely to change.

Before Roy could open his mouth to start a suitably innocent line of conversation that would hopefully lead to the answer he was looking for, he heard a strange noise outside the room. Going to the door, he jumped back as the noise suddenly got louder, revealing itself to be a song. Someone had set up a music player just outside the door.

Roy paled as he recognized the song. He was uncertain of the title, but it was a love song in no uncertain terms. All of a sudden, he understood what Maes was getting at.

He had been confused for a long time, sure. But how the hell had Maes interpreted it as... this? He wasn't sure, and this he certainly hadn't thought of this as a potential problem. But as he looked at Ed once more, noting the incredible rare gold of his eyes and the way his hair fell in a failed attempt to mask them, he vaguely wondered just how he hadn't thought of it.

That was hardly the problem at hand, though. The problem at hand was that he was trapped in a small practice room with a surprisingly voiceless blond he had just realized he had been infatuated with for the past month and his idiot friend was trying to set them up, even going so far as to provide mood music.

This was going to be more interesting than Roy had previously thought.

END CHAPTER 11

Cliffhanger... and a faster post next time! Promise, loves!