This story is actually made up of three different ideas that I'm meshing together in one fic. Things could get complicated.

Also, I will probably be throwing in some random Ishvalan words that I make up along the way. Translations will appear at the bottom.

Chapter 5

Sergeant Major Benjamin stepped through the doorway of his commander's office and saluted. "Colonel Miles, sir, there's a radio transmission for you. It's Brigadier General Mustang."

Miles signed his name at the bottom of a requisition order and set it in his "out" basket. "Thank you, Sergeant Major."

He left his office, stepping out onto the covered walkway that ran the length of the long headquarters building. Benjamin strode along just behind his right elbow. "Anything urgent?" Miles asked him.

"Don't think so," Benjamin replied. He gave a wry smirk. The radio room was several doors down from the colonel's office. "What are you going to do for exercise when the telephone lines finally reach Ishval, sir?"

Miles glanced back narrowly. His adjutant was in the habit of taking occasional liberties. He hid a smirk of his own. "Probably chase after you while you're doing laps around the cotton fields with a full pack, smartass," he growled back quietly.

"Yes, sir!" Benjamin replied with cheerful skepticism in his voice. In a somewhat more deferential tone, he began, "With respect, sir—"

"For a change?" Miles remarked.

Benjamin grinned. "Sima and I were talking, and we both agreed that if we have a boy, we'd like to name him after you, sir. If that's okay."

Miles raised an eyebrow. His first name was a closely guarded secret, so that was unlikely. "You want to name your son Miles?"

"If that's all right, sir. My father told me that I was under no circumstances to ever name a child after him."

"And why is that?"

"His name is Zerubbabel."

"I see."

"And aside from 'Miles' being a hell of a lot more merciful, sir, out of all the men I know, all smartassery aside, I respect and admire you the most. Apart from my dad, that is," Benjamin added quickly.

Miles turned to consider his adjutant, then he nodded. "Then I'd be honored. What if it's a girl?"

They reached the radio room and Benjamin pulled the door open for his commanding officer. "Milly."

Miles gave a half-grin. "You're really excited about this, aren't you?"

Benjamin grinned back and nodded. "Absolutely, sir! If you don't mind me asking," he went on, "have you and Mrs. Miles picked out names yet?""

"Well," Miles replied, putting on a thoughtful look. "If we have a boy, he'll be named Attar, after my grandfather. If we have a daughter, she'll be called Mira."

Benjamin frowned for a second, then brightened. "Oh! I see!"

"Calling her Olivier would have been a little…presumptuous."

"Understandable, sir. That's a big name for a little nipper."

Miles gave a quiet chuckle. "Well, from what her father's told me, the general filled up that name from the get go. But Mira has a bit of an Ishvalan ring to it, doesn't it?"

"It does, sir," Benjamin agreed.

Miles headed for the transceiver. "Well, I guess I'm keeping the brigadier waiting, aren't I?" he said, not sounding overly concerned.

"Sir!" Benjamin saluted and left, still grinning.

Miles sat down at the transceiver and put the headphones to his ears. He flipped on one of the switches. "Miles here, sir. How are you, Brigadier?"

"Doing well, Colonel," Roy replied. "Is Ishval still running like a top?"

"Close enough," Miles replied with a slight smile. "Or I should say we wobble along pretty well without falling over."

"There's going to be another batch of troops heading your way in the next month or so," Roy went on. "I know you'd prefer to have them arrive in the dead of summer, but they weren't ready in time and there was no sense waiting until next year."

"That's all right, sir. It's only September. There's still some heat left," Miles assured him.

"That's good. That's not what I called you about, by the way," Roy said.

"Sir?"

"I have something rather interesting to run by you. You'll probably want to pass it on to His Honor."

"And what would that be, sir?"

"Ever been to the circus, Colonel?"

Miles could hear the grin in Roy's voice and he raised an eyebrow. "Not since I was a kid."

"Then maybe it's time you revisited your childhood," Roy said.

Brigadier General Mustang had grown a tendency to dance around a subject a little before he got to the point. That's what happened when you sat behind a desk too long, in Miles' opinion. He made a mental note to get out and make an inspection of the border guard stations. Just on principle. "Sir?" he said, trying not to sound weary.

"Mrs. Mustang and I went to the circus last night," Roy went on. "Popcorn, cotton candy, toffee apples, everything. We had a blast."

"I'm glad to hear it," Miles replied, beginning to scowl.

"But the show itself was what was really amazing," Roy said. "I should explain—"

About damn time! Miles thought.

"—that this is a new enterprise. They call themselves Circus Chimera."

Miles stiffened slightly. "Circus Chimera?"

"That's right." In the radio room at the East City command center, Roy sat back in his chair. He loved tossing little news grenades like that, but never as much as on the unshakeable Colonel Miles. "It was a really interesting show."

"I don't doubt that," Miles replied, still trying to digest this information. "Are you saying that the performers are actually chimeras?"

"Mostly, yes."

Miles frowned at the transceiver. "With respect, sir, it sounds like exploitation."

"Oh, no! Not at all!" Roy said quickly. "The whole thing is operated by a group of chimeras. And I recognized a couple of them. Do you remember Darius and Heinkel?"

Miles gave a slight start. "Yes! Of course I do! They…joined the circus?"

"They didn't just join it, Colonel. They bought it," Roy replied. "Technically, they had deserted from the army, but that was under the previous administration. So on top of receiving pardons, they were awarded compensation for having been victims of the previous admin's corrupt and inhuman practices. They apparently took the money and ran with it. And it turns out they weren't the only surviving chimeras who were deinstitutionalized and out of a job."

Miles nodded. "Jerso and Zampano came through Ishval a while ago. They were traveling to Xing with Alphonse Elric."

"They went to Ishval?" Now it was Roy's turn to sound surprised. "How did that go down?"

"Rather well, sir. But then, Alphonse is the more level-headed of the Elric boys," Miles replied. "On a related note, you might be interested to know that His Honor is currently entertaining another old friend."

Roy shook his head. "All right, Colonel. Astonish me."

"Winry Rockbell took it into her head to take a holiday out here."

There was an agreeable pause on the other end of the transmission. "Seriously?"

"Dead serious, Brigadier," Miles replied. "I'm glad to report that things seem to be going well."

"Huh! Well, I guess that's a relief. Next I suppose you'll be telling me Fullmetal has shown up on your doorstep."

"Not yet, sir. He's somewhere out west, apparently. I got the impression that he doesn't know Miss Rockbell is here."

"Then maybe we should keep it that way for now," Roy mused. "I can just see him haring off east and causing some well-intentioned mayhem."

Miles grinned slightly. "Yeah, I can picture that, too. But about this circus…"

"Oh, yes! After the show, we went backstage—being a high-ranking officer has its privileges—and I got to talking to Darius and Heinkel. They told me that they would like to add Ishval to their tour. I told them I'd talk to you and the khorovar. He wouldn't happen to be there at the moment, would he?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. But I can send him a message to come out here when he's done at the school."

"Thank you. I'd really like to support this, Colonel."

"Understood, sir," Miles replied. "Andakar will want to present it to the district chieftains, but I'm sure they'll approve it."

"Good. Get back to me as soon as you can."

"I will, sir."

After signing off, Miles stepped out onto the boardwalk outside the radio room. Benjamin was further down the walkway, talking to a couple of soldiers. "Sergeant Major!" Miles called as he walked up to them.

"Sir!" Benjamin replied as he and the other soldiers saluted.

"Get somebody to ride into town and take a message to the khorovar. Ask him if he'll come out here. At his convenience," Miles added, knowing that dashing out to the fort was not high on Scar's list of priorities.

"Right away, sir."

"A circus?"

Miles nodded.

"A circus?" Scar sounded a little repulsed.

"Oh, come on! It'll be fun!" Miles reasoned. "The kids will love it and my men could use some R and R. I know how you feel about outsiders," he went on in answer to Scar's glowering expression. "But they're not. They're actually old comrades-in-arms. Darius and Heinkel. You remember them, don't you?"

Scar was still not convinced. "Yes, of course, but—"

"So they already understand the situation. They want to bring their show here, and I am personally all for it. But just to play it safe, General Mustang can warn them to make sure that their people are discreet."

Scar crossed his arms with stood for a few moments with a thoughtful scowl. "How long would they be here?"

"Our population isn't that big, so I can't see them running their show for more than a few days," Miles replied. "They'll need time to set it up and break it down, too, so they might be out here for a week at most."

Scar still appeared stubbornly unpersuaded and Miles leaned toward him. "It'll be fun!" he declared firmly. "You've been home for over two years, Andakar. Over those two years I have, in fact, seen you smile, so I'm pretty sure you've finally remembered what fun is."

Scar lifted his hands in resignation. "All right, Miles! I'll call a meeting of the chieftains for tonight and we'll see what they decide."

"Yeah, and once they get through arguing about it, they'll go along with whatever you want," Miles said drily.

Scar shrugged. "Most of them."

Miles gave an uncharitable laugh. "Poor Stanno."

"Oh, he'll be all for it. It will mean more business for his pullers," Scar said with distaste.

"Hey, it keeps those boys busy, doesn't it?"

"I did not educate those boys so they could grow up to be cart horses!" Scar growled. "It's disgraceful! No self-respecting girl is going to marry a puller!"

Miles walked around his desk and sat down, leaning back in his chair and regarding his friend with an amused expression. "You really have a one-track mind, don't you?"

Scar looked back at him darkly. "Do I?"

Miles nodded. "For somebody as chushahaii as you, you're awfully anxious for these kids to get each other in the sack."

Scar bridled indignantly. "That is not what I meant!"

Miles burst into laughter and Scar leaned on his desk and said in a cold, ominous tone, "I hope Ishvala blesses you with nothing but beautiful daughters."

Miles still chuckled and spread his arms. "What other kind would I have?"

With a snort of disgust, Scar strode out of the office, Miles' laughter following him.

Chushahaii—"proper minded" or conservative.