This is extremely AU and borrows from both the manga and the 2003 anime, as well as ancient Greek mythology. Ahaha, anyone remember this? ^^; I've been sitting on this part a little too long… Thanks goes to nightoperator for the feedback on this part and for putting up with my whining, and also to everyone who's read and reviewed. =D I will do my absolute best to not keep you waiting so long.

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With divinity came the understanding that very little happened in the world without reason – in fact, Ed couldn't name a single thing that didn't hold even the smallest drop of logic. It was with that knowledge that Ed slammed the car door behind him and followed Mei, arm-in-arm with Al, up the walkway to a brightly lit house. The music was going to irritate the hell out of him, he could already tell. It was some kitschy ukulele music, which he couldn't even begin to explain.

"Ukuleles," he muttered at Al. "Where the fuck does this guy get off—"

"I like ukulele music," Al said. "Remember that fertility festival, back in Creta?"

"Third century Creta?" Ed asked. "Yeah, it was lame."

"That's not what you said at the time," Al grinned. "In fact, if I remember correctly, you were completely enamored with the shrine maidens. Said we should go to that festival every year—"

"Fuck off!"

Mei pinched Al, giving him a warning look. "Do not get your brother worked up," she warned. "Professor Hughes will fail me if the house is destroyed!"

"You always say that," Ed complained. "I don't just run around breaking shit, you know!"

Al snickered. Mei, heaving a long-suffering sigh, opened the front door, spitting out one last, behave! at the brothers. She needn't have bothered. Ed had a goal, and so long as he had something to look to, a reason to hold onto reason, he could blend in as well as any human.

Ed leaned close to Mei, about to ask her just where this Mustang guy was, anyway, when the Professor Hughes came bounding out of the crowd in a toga, a little girl toddling excitedly behind him.

"Mei!" the professor said, grabbing her hand in an enthusiastic shake. "Good to see you, glad you could make it! And this," he turned to Al, "must be the fiancée! I knew you were tall."

"Ah, thank you," Al said, shaking the professor's hand, nonplussed. "Er, good to see you again."

But the professor had already moved on, whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm that he was, and clapped a hand down on Ed's shoulder. "Ed, right? Ed! Good to see you again, sorry about that mix up. You and your brother look quite alike!"

"I know," Ed said flatly. "We're related."

Professor Hughes laughed – loudly. "So you are!"

Ed wondered if outwardly he looked as irritated as he was inwardly. Probably, given the worried look on Mei's face. The professor was unfazed. In fact, his attention span seemed to give out after a few more seconds of that strange laugh, and he sped past them, where an unaware group of students was making their way toward the house. They caught sight of the toga-clad man and, eyes wide with alarm, began to slowly back down the walkway.

Mei sighed. "I did not expect him to be so—pleased to see you."

"Ugh," was all Ed had to say on the matter.

"The man you're looking for," Mei paused, breaking the sentence off to squint around the room, narrowing her eyes at the throng of people in the large living room. "Oh! Professor Mustang is over there, by that table." She point, and Ed's eyes followed the line of her arm to a dark haired man sulking by a table laid out with snacks and drinks.

"No way," Ed said, letting out a burst of shocked laughter.

"What?" Al asked, looking over in the professor's direction. "What is it?"

"Remember when I got distracted," Ed said.

"… I can think of a few occasions like that, yes."

Ed rolled his eyes. "With Dante—that time!"

"When you stood her up?"

"It wasn't exactly like that," Ed muttered, "but yeah. That's where I was."

Al looked at the man, who had taken to mumbling into the glass clutched tight in his hands, and back to Ed. "With him?"

"He hit me with his car," Ed said excitedly.

"Well," Al said. "I see. I think I'm going to have a drink now."

Nothing, absolutely nothing occurred without some purpose. Ed might not have been able to see the strings connecting him to Professor Mustang – Roy, he remembered – but they were there, had been since long before they met.

It could only mean that the man was meant to help him. Ed felt jittery with the realization, with the auspiciousness of the moment as he walked around the group of people and came up behind the professor.

"Roy," he said.

The man started, then turned around, staring blankly at him for a moment before something in his mind clicked together. "Ed?"

"Roy Mustang?"

"Yes?" The man was blinking rapidly.

"Professor Roy Mustang," Ed said, and could it have been any more perfect? When the man snapped at him, confusion giving way to anger, Ed remained steady, too thrilled, too amused to bother with heated words.

"Well, Professor," he began grandly, "ever thought much about fate?"

Roy looked puzzled. "Fate?" he repeated, raising a brow. "Don't be ridiculous."

And just like that, hope shriveled up like a burning leaf. But no, there was no reason to be put off. After all, this was clearly a meeting intended by the universe, Ed reminded himself.

"Come on," he said. "What are the odds of us meeting like this? Here? I mean," Ed laughed, "it makes sense!"

Roy looked around, puzzled. "I've only just seen you, but you've obviously been here for a while."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've clearly been drinking quite a bit."

Ed stared. "I—what—no! No, that's not right at all!"

Roy didn't look convinced. "Is there a reason you're bothering me, then?"

Apparently, fate wasn't enough for this guy. Ed snorted disgustedly. But even so, Roy looked ready to walk off. Ed couldn't lose this opportunity. So he let his eyes wander over the cluster of people jammed into the house and casually said, "I've read a lot of your research."

Roy set his drink down on the table, raising a brow. "Have you?" He actually sounded pleased about that.

"I was especially interested," Ed began, "in the work you did with Professor Tucker."

Just like that, the last vestiges of warmth and emotion disappeared from Roy's face. His posture straightened and his hands went into his pockets. "That's nothing worth reading," he said flatly. He edged away from Ed, his body turning toward the door.

"Sure it is," Ed said hurriedly, "it's a lot of brilliant stuff. Especially the experimental stuff. You and Tucker—"

"Beyond a few articles," Roy's voice was acid, "I had nothing to do with Tucker. I suggest you take your thoughts elsewhere."

Ed didn't have the chance to try to salvage the conversation. Roy was walking off, practically out the door before Ed managed to figure out how that attempt had gone south so quickly. He saw Mei's professor break out of a group on the opposite side of the room and head after Roy, but judging by the way he stopped in the doorway, the point was moot. Roy was gone.

"What," Ed muttered, "the fuck?"

So much for an auspicious meeting.

Roy Mustang, Ed felt assured, had to know something. He'd reacted suspiciously enough, which settled the matter for him.

He had to speak to the professor again.

"You really need to be more subtle," Al pointed out the next morning over a rushed breakfast. His jacket hung over the back of his chair, and he kept glancing at the clock.

"I need to inventory," Ed insisted. "There's got to be something I can do, something I can say to get Roy to listen. Fuck, he just ran!"

"You do have that effect on people," Al muttered distractedly, already on his feet. "Don't do anything stupid." His tone suggested he believed the words to be wasted.

"Go to work," Ed returned, scowling.

Al rolled his eyes. He walked out of the kitchen, and Ed could hear Mei coming down the stairs, rushing to meet him at the door. There was a brief pause in sound, and then Ed heard them depart. He was alone in the house.

Ed dropped his head, letting his forehead rest on his folded arms. He was approaching this from the wrong angle, that was all. As suspicious as Roy's reaction had been, the man had to know something. Ed just needed to take a few steps back and regroup.

More importantly, he needed to see Roy again.

But how to convince the man to speak to him? Ed frowned at the table for a moment before a thought struck him. Both Roy and Tucker were somehow involved in some heavy science stuff, an obviously experimental field. The man had to be interested in the field – so what if Ed showed interest?

It wasn't like he didn't know how to throw bullshit around to get a job done.

His hope renewed, Ed got up from the table and wandered up the stairs. He needed a shower, needed to get the hell out of last night's clothes. He had a professor to see.

When Ed arrived at the university, already disgruntled at the midday crowd, he kept in mind his top priority: avoid Mei at all cost. She'd been especially peeved after the party, and she hadn't needed to say so. Her sudden frigidity spoke volumes.

But as he made his way through the courtyard and past the library, Ed found himself wishing she was there. Being on campus was awkward. Hell, it was beyond that – not two hundred years ago, associating with humans had been easy. Simple.

It was amazing how quickly things could change.

Beyond the courtyard were four separate buildings. Ed went inside the one straight in front of him, and the doors slid open slowly, catching for a moment before stuttering closed again.

There was a directory on the wall. Ed scanned over the list until he saw Office – R. Mustang NATSCI in bold white letters.

So the professor was in the building next door, a few floors up? No problem. Ed, hands in his pockets, walked back outside and to the right, forcing his way through a crowd standing in a fog of smoke just outside the entrance. With any luck, Roy would be there already. Ed really didn't want to wait.

There was another crowd waiting in front of the elevator, so Ed veered to the right, where a sign with the picture of a staircase was hanging over a door. Roy's office was on the third floor and the building itself was only five floors. What the hell did these people need an elevator for?

"Third floor, room 304," Ed repeated, banging open the heavy door and exiting the staircase. Roy's office was immediately in view, but the door was shut. Sure enough, when Ed jiggled the handle, it was locked. "Fuck."

On the one hand, he could easily just make the door open for him and wait for the professor inside. On the other hand, that would probably not be very helpful for his cause.

Resigned to wait, Ed leaned against the wall, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Um, excuse me?" a timid voice spoke up. "Are you here for Professor Mustang?"

"Yeah." Ed looked over. A woman was peeking out of another doorway, her large glasses sliding down her nose.

"He should be here soon," she said. "His class just let out a few minutes ago."

"Oh, hey, thanks." Ed then continued staring at his feet. The woman shuffled awkwardly in the doorway, then disappeared again into her office.

True to her word, the doorway from the stairs came banging open, and Roy walked into the office, muttering darkly about crowded elevators. When he noticed Ed, he stopped in his tracks. "You," he said.

Ed shifted his weight back and forth. "My brother's—fiancée," he supposed there really was no other word for Mei, "goes here. She told me where to find you."

"And why would you want to do that?" Roy didn't look irritated, which was probably a good thing. Mostly, he just looked bored. Tolerant.

"I wanted to apologize," Ed said, "if I was being too pushy." His mind scrambled for an appropriate excuse. Roy's comment at the party came to mind. "I might have had too much to drink."

The man laughed at that. "I thought as much." He still looked wary, though.

"I was wondering if, er, we could try that again." Ed paused. "Talking theory. I've read some of your stuff, is all, and there's no one else to, er," how to say it?

Roy studied him for a moment before suggesting, "No one to collaborate with?"

"Yes!" Ed nodded enthusiastically. "That, exactly. So, er, if you've got the time—"

There was still something cagey in Roy's eyes, so Ed was pleasantly surprised when the man said, "I was getting ready to head to lunch, if you'd like to come. The campus cafeteria isn't completely terrible."

"Works for me." Ed grinned.

It was simply a matter of keeping one thing in mind: don't push him. Roy knew something, but Ed obviously needed to ease the man into sharing it.

Walking out of the building with Roy felt a bit odd. Something about it struck a chord in Ed, bringing up memories of the old days, when gods and men weren't so separated.

If nothing else came of it, Ed decided, it would at least be interesting to see how much had truly changed with mankind.

"So, wait," Al interrupted. "You went out to lunch with him… and spoke about biology? And this helped how?"

"It's his connection to Tucker," Ed argued. "If I'm gonna get anything out of Roy, it'll have to be that way."

"By gaining his trust and tricking him into telling you things?" Al hazarded. "You're starting to sound a bit too much like Paninya."

"I don't cause chaos for the hell of it," Ed said. "Don't lump me in with her!"

The office was surprisingly slow that day. Ed had walked in about three o'clock and let the receptionist know he was there for Al, and his brother had walked out of one of the back offices not a moment later.

He'd obviously been bored.

"But still, this seems like the kind of thing you should be careful with. If he doesn't know anything about Tucker, then you're just wasting time."

"He knows something. I told you what happened—"

"He reacted badly to the name of a man who disappeared," Al interrupted again. "That could mean anything. He might have been friends with Tucker, and you just drudged up bad memories."

"But if he was friends with him," Ed explained for what felt like the thousandth time, "then he might have some clue about how Tucker died!"

"How would he know?" Al asked. "I heard Tucker's body was never found."

Ed frowned. "Where'd you hear that?"

"One of the medical billers," Al gestured toward the front. "She used to work in Central City hospital, you know, the one downtown with—"

"No budget to speak of? Yeah, I've heard you rant."

"Well, she was working there during the time of the case. No body ever went through, and they're the only hospital in the area that handles autopsy cases. Tucker went missing, and if Dante had him, he obviously died. But no one down here knows how."

"And Dante's not talking." Ed sneered. "She just wants me to fuck up."

"You know she does." Al sighed. "And you haven't gotten anything substantial to report in to her, have you?"

"Not really." Ed deflated, slouching in the chair. He drummed his fingers on the side of Al's desk, letting out a laugh with Al tried to smack his hand away. "I dunno when she's going to call me back in, anyway."

"I know you really don't want to," Al began, "but maybe Dad—"

"He can't do shit. No one up there can," Ed said, cutting him off. "So there's no point in thinking about it."

"And you think this professor can help you?"

"I think he can at least point me in the right direction," Ed said stubbornly.

Al looked like he was going to argue more, but the phone on his desk rang, the shrill sound cutting into the conversation. Holding up a finger, Al answered it. "Hello?" Then he rolled his eyes and gave Ed an apologetic look.

Patient's owner, Al mouthed even as he nodded at whatever the person on the line was saying. Have to take this.

Ed shrugged and stood. "I gotta go anyway," he said quietly.

See you at home, Al mouthed.

It was always jarring, seeing his brother in such a human role. Another reminder that Ed didn't want or need.

"He's older than I thought," was the first thing Roy said when Maes showed up at his office that evening. He waved Maes in and nodded for him to shut the door behind him.

"Who?"

"Ed. The one I ran over."

"I still think you made that up," Maes grumbled. "That was the kid, though?"

"Mei's fiancée, your little Xing girl?" Roy said. "That's his younger brother."

"Oh, ouch," Maes laughed. "Talk about getting the short end of the stick!"

Roy snickered. "I get the feeling he doesn't appreciate any references to his height." A pause. "He showed up at my office this afternoon."

"Your office?" Maes looked surprised. "Really. What brought that on?"

"After your fiasco of a party, he came to apologize. He's a little strange. But harmless, as far as I can tell."

"You never did explain any of that."

"He wanted to talk research."

"Yours?" Maes scoffed. "And that ticked you off how? You eat up whenever people want to stroke your ego and talk about how brilliant you are."

"My earlier joint research," Roy clarified. Maes fell silent for a beat.

"You mean—Tucker."

"Yeah." Roy fiddled with his keyboard, tapping the keys aimless and watching random letters appear on his computer screen before erasing them all in one long row. "So needless to say—"

"You got off on the wrong foot. And then he showed up?"

"And wanted to talk more theory," Roy confirmed. "He was surprisingly intelligent."

"I've only met Mei's fiancée a few times, but he's a pretty smart guy, right? A vet? It can't be that much a surprise."

"I suppose after nature sold him short, Ed had to at least get the family intelligence."

Silence – and then they both broke into abrupt laughter.

Ed let a few days pass before deciding to contact Roy again. "Al," Ed called up the stairs. "AL!"

"WHAT?" Al's voice carried all the way down from the office.

"I NEED HELP."

"STOP YELLING AND COME UP HERE, THEN," Al shouted back, clearly exasperated.

Ed stomped up the stairs and into Al's home office. "So I need to send an email," he said. Email. Even the word tasted bad coming out of his mouth.

"You?" Al asked. "You actually want to use a computer?"

"Ha ha. Aren't you clever?"

"What for?" Al asked. "I mean, you know I'm fine with it, it's just—strange. For you, I mean."

"Roy," Ed said after a moment of fidgeting, "gave me his email. Said I could contact him again if I ever wanted to talk theory."

A strange, unreadable expression passed over Al's face before he settled on a teasing grin. "So you've trapped yourself into finally getting with the times?"

"Damnit, Al!"

"Come on, I've been on you about this for years! I think I earned a little room to gloat." Even so, Al turned his computer screen around. "Come on, sit down. What do you want your name to be?"

"Ed?"

"Your email address name," Al clarified with no small amount of mirth. "This kills me, you know, because this is your realm."

"Technology is a waste of space," Ed snapped, gesturing his arms wildly to emphasize his point. "It doesn't do a damn thing but let humans be as lazy as they like—did you know they have elevators in buildings with only five floors?"

"So? They also have elevators in buildings with only two floors," Al said.

"See, this is why humanity is such a mess," Ed lamented. "I can't do a damn thing for them, nowadays. Two hundred years ago, they listened. They didn't just—I mean, can you even begin to—"

"Ed," Al interrupted. "Let's stick to the purpose. What would you like your email to be?"

"The Lord of Hell," Ed said.

"I don't think that would fit," Al began, "and it's not exactly sending out a good message."

"What do you mean, not sending out a good message?" Ed demanded. "That's exactly the title I want!"

"Are you being difficult on purpose?" Al fixed him with a serious look. "Humans don't think the same way gods do. How about just—Oh, I don't know. E_Elric?"

"Fine," Ed huffed. "Whatever. Just stick me with a boring name. Roy'll think I'm—"

"What's his email address, Ed?"

Ed frowned and pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket. His face fell. "R dot Mustang at central dot edu."

"I rest my case," Al said. "Now, let's just start here… You have to start at the homepage, see?"

"Child missing in Central?" Ed read the headline of the first newsline to pop up. "Oh, wait, no—lose forty pounds in two weeks!"

"Fucking news reel," Al muttered. "No, you click this button. See? It says email—and then right here, it says 'register an account', which is what you need to do."

It didn't take more than a few minutes before Ed was tapping at the keyboard and squinting at the screen, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"You type like a bird pecks," Al pointed out. "You're supposed to hold a certain position, not use two fingers."

"I'll do it however I damn well like," Ed muttered. "Okay, how does this sound? Roy, I was hoping we could talk again. Ed."

"You're leaving something out, I think." Al had his face buried in his hands, his shoulder shaking with barely restrained mirth. "Try again."

"I was hoping we could talk again. About theory."

"What else would you talk about? He already knows that, Ed."

"Fuck, fine!" Ed turned back to the keyboard, pounding his fingers against it for a few more minutes. "I was hoping we could talk again. When would it be convenient for you? Ed."

"Better than nothing," Al grinned. "Go ahead and send it. It sounds good enough."

"You're so helpful," Ed said dryly.

"You're the one who wanted to be The Lord of Hell at yahoo dot com," Al snickered. "I don't want to hear anything from you!"

"Don't think this means I'm changing my mind about technology," Ed warned. "Because I'm not."

"Mhm."

"At all."

Roy's reply arrived within hours. Al called Ed back up to the office and pointed the screen to him again.

"Tomorrow," Ed said. "Lunch. Damn, this guy likes to eat."

"It's not hurting you to eat regularly," Al said. "It makes you fit in."

"It makes me feel sluggish," Ed said. "Whatever. Tell him yes."

"Me? Why me?"

"I have shit I'm doing! Reading through a million damn academic journals just so I know what this guy knows—"

"Well, aren't you sneaky?" Al tapped on the keyboard a few times, then nodded. "Done. He's got your confirmation. Go back and fool with your journals."

It wasn't fooling around so much as investigating. There were key points to Roy's works that led up to his studies with Tucker. Ed would have given just about anything at that point to find some of Tucker's solo work, outside of that one article from the library, but the only remaining articles with his name attached were the joint ones with Roy. Ed had pored over them for days, pinpointing any minor connections. All he needed was the right lead in, and Roy would slip. He had to.