Well the response has been fairly overwhelming so far, everyone! I'm really grateful. Not only that, but you all have brilliant ideas. Let me know anything you think; I want this story to be yours as much as it is mine. Thanks so very much!

Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock

Chapter Two

He took a deep, steadying breath once again before the great oak doors and then nodded to the soldier, a sergeant by his uniform. The slightly older man opened the door and he stepped through, the door shutting solidly behind him.

Today Grumman and the guest he was entertaining were seated in the lounge area, Grumman in a high-backed armchair and the other man across from him. They both turned upon his entrance, and the contrast of expression could not have been greater; Grumman smiled widely at him while the unnamed man clearly seemed to be taking him in, sizing him up. A single dark eyebrow rose, as if both curious and sardonic at the same time.

"Edward, good of you to join us!" Grumman spoke with a jovial tone, gesturing to the couch adjacent. Edward strode forward and took the seat offered. He checked his pocket watch, a souvenir more than anything now, noticing it was exactly eight.

"Am I late, sir?" He tried not to fidget under the stranger's gaze. The man's gray eyes had an intensity to them, and the color matched his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed back from his face.

"Not at all, young man. Robert just likes to be early is all. Edward, this is one of my former colleagues, Robert Standon. Robert, I doubt very much I need to make this introduction."

"I read the papers," the other replied. His voice was smooth, but low, a steady advance.

"Good to meet you, Mr. Standon," he replied, trying not to turn red in embarrassment, and he leaned forward with his hand out. Standon raised that eyebrow again, but took the proffered appendage and shook it.

"Mr. Elric."

"I'm very glad you two have met. Robert here is from up north. Edward, I believe you made a visit to the north recently."

"Did you now?" Stanford asked with some interest, turning a little toward him.

"Yes, I spent a little under a week at Fort Briggs," he replied. Just as quickly as he had gained it, he lost the northerner's attention.

"Oh. Well, my area of the country is far more than just that—ice box. Pardon the term, Grumman." The man did not seem to be apologetic at all. Grumman was looking between the two of them with something like disappointment on his face, but before he could reply the sergeant opened the door.

"There are two men who have an appointment, Führer Grumman."

"Send them in, sergeant." Grumman brightened once again when the two men walked in.

If Edward had thought Standon and Grumman were different, these newcomers were complete opposites. The first was a somewhat burly man, with a large reddened face. His brown-blond hair was shaggy, hanging in clear blue eyes. The second man was practically swallowed in the first's shadow. Mousy brown hair, already showing the first signs of receding, and indistinct hazel eyes were the only color in a rather sallow complexion.

Grumman stood to shake both of their hands, and Edward felt that perhaps he should take the old man's lead. He stood as well, earning a grin from the first man as well as a firm shake. The second's hand rested limply in his own grip. Standon gave sigh, stood as though it was a chore, and completed the circle of greetings.

As they regained their seats, the two men taking the other available chairs, Grumman spoke again. "Well, I shall make the proper introductions. Edward, Robert, these gentleman are Darrin Venter and Simon Richards. Darrin, Simon, these are Robert Standon and Edward Elric."

"Very pleased to make—" Richards began, but was cut off from a low whistle made by Venter.

"My, my, Grumman, you've really pulled out the stops on this one. You're that kid genius, aren't you?" He favored Edward with another smile, though this one seemed more impressed than the first.

"The child prodigy, I think you mean," Richards said, looking at the larger man with some distaste. Edward couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at that. Child? Kid was bad enough as it was.

"The very same, gentlemen," Grumman answered for him, and he had to bite his tongue from snapping at him for it. His was an adult now, for crying out loud, so what was the big deal?

But the door swung open then, and in strode a woman this time. Her hair had more gray in it than Standon's, but he thought he could detect some hints of brown from years past. Her jaw was firmly set, and he saw that the frown lines on her face outnumbered the laugh lines. The sergeant followed helplessly behind her, but she turned and leveled him with a cold stare.

"I require no announcement, sergeant. Find something more productive to do than be a bellhop." Edward winced and sent a shrug the sergeant's way, and the soldier turned and hurried from the room. Grumman, meanwhile, was beginning to rise.

"Patti, always—"

"Don't trouble yourself, Abram, I'm sitting right down," the woman cut him off brusquely, and Standon smirked a little at the change of events. Edward, meanwhile, was completely thrown as the woman took the empty space on the couch next to him. He hadn't even known Grumman had a first name.

"As you wish. Gentlemen, Patricia Relman. Patti, Darrin Venter, Robert Standon, Simon Richards, and the young man to your left is Edward Elric."

"Good to meet you. Now may we get down to business?"

"I could point out you were the last of us to arrive," Standon idly commented.

"Not all of us are retired," she quickly retorted, though not with very much venom. Venter gave a somewhat undignified snort, but quickly grew serious at the look Standon sent him. Richards, meanwhile, was looking expectantly at Grumman, as was Relman.

"You have an excellent point, my dear. Time is not to be wasted," Grumman interceded. "Now, I've gathered you here, as you all know, to discuss the next steps this country will take. Each of you, as well as others who will be arriving in the next few days, has proven themselves to be not just intelligent, but wise beyond years." The old man's gaze lingered on Edward the longest, as most of those gathered considered him with various levels of interest. He was clearly the youngest here, as even Venter could be placed somewhere within the range of mid-forties or fifties. "All of us agree that the current system is not adequate, and will self-destruct at some point if nothing is done."

"Clearly," Standon muttered. "It nearly did a little under two years ago, if not for Elric here."

"Really," he finally broke in, having had quite enough, "it wasn't just me. Führer Grumman had just as important of a role, and so did others." Like Mustang and the team. Mustang wouldn't be floundering if he were here in this position. He couldn't believe it, but he really wished the other man were here right now. "Look, it took me a few years, but I've realized you just can't go off half-cock on your own all the time. Not about the important things. This- this is important, and I'm willing to work with you. So what do we need to beat around the bush for?" There, at least he'd said it. He noticed Richards looking a little surprised at the outburst, while Standon was back to studying him carefully. Relman gave a little approving nod to his side.

"Well, you heard him, Grumman!" Venter said.

"Very well," said the old man. "The details. I will be holding a press conference tomorrow to announce the Convention. With the people aware and hopefully in support of it, not even the most stubborn general would try to shoot it down. The official meetings will commence at the start of next week. Due to the secrecy we have to operate on for now, I have had some trouble in securing a venue. But I have decided upon the old Capitol Hall."

"That shack?" Standon interrupted. Edward looked at him questioningly, but at least he wasn't the only one. Venter and Richards were equally confused.

Relman sighed. "Before this complex we're sitting in was built, the leaders of Amestris—then more a city than a country—would meet in Capitol Hall. It's probably the oldest structure in Central."

"It did seem fitting, Robert," Grumman said good-naturedly, but the other man only shook his head.

"I would like to ask how much you will be telling the press," Richards spoke up.

"I will tell them the purpose of this gathering, and some of the names of the representatives. Likely all of yours. However, this brings up an important point. It is imperative that you do not speak to the press, or anyone, about what is discussed in the meetings. Everyone should feel free to speak their minds, or we will never truly be able to write this Constitution. Agreed?" He looked at each of them in turn.

"That is satisfactory. I for one would like to remain anonymous in the public eye," Richards replied.

"You've got our word, Grumman," Venter said with another grin.

"Very well," said the Führer as he checked his watch. "I believe we have covered everything that needed to be. If you would all excuse me, I have a meeting with Major General Armstrong in twenty minutes."

They all seemed to realize what was meant; he did not want Major General Armstrong to know about this meeting. As Edward wasn't so keen on running into the female general, he was more than happy to take his leave. Because of this he was the first to the door, and he held it open for the others. Grumman afforded him one last smile before walking to his desk and Edward took that as his dismissal.

When he entered the hall, closing the door behind him, Richards was already shuffling around the corner out of sight. Venter was matching strides with Standon while trying to engage the older man in conversation, though not having much luck. Relman, however, was standing right in front of the sergeant's currently vacated desk.

"Good gracious—where has that man got off to with my things?" She muttered to no one in particular.

"He probably took them to be stored, no one knew how long the meeting would be," he replied and she turned to face him. "I could get them for you, if you'd like."

Relman considered him a moment, and then said, "Very well. I'll wait here for you."

He walked down the hall and took a left, travelling the familiar pathways until coming to stop in front of a storage room. He found a trunk with her name on a tag and a carpet bag embroidered with her initials. Edward took them and was starting back down the hall when a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

"You know, I'd heard you were leaving, but that doesn't look like your luggage."

What were the odds? He turned toward his former Commanding Officer, noting the amused smirk but also the curiosity in the man's dark eyes.

"Oh, hey Colonel," he greeted, "I was getting these for someone, they're not mine."

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "And your departure?"

"A rumor, that's all," he answered, though he supposed that was only half-true. "See you around," he finally said, not sure what else to do.

"Edward," Mustang said before he could go, "you wouldn't happen to know anything about any other rumors floating around here. About the Führer, perhaps?" Damn, Mustang sure was smart.

"Not really, I haven't been hanging around here enough to hear anything." He felt guilty lying to his former superior, but he couldn't spill about this. Before, the secrets Edward kept had been about himself and Alphonse. Now, he would know things about any number of people. It wouldn't be fair to them to share. No matter how much he trusted the other man.

"Well, alright then. I should be getting back to the office." He really needed to visit those guys soon. Mustang turned and walked away, and Edward left in the other direction.

"What took so long?" Relman asked, though not seeming that interested as she took the carpet bag from him.

"Just ran into someone I know," he told her. "I've got it," he told her as she reached for the trunk.

"Abram says you're from out east," she commented as they walked together.

"Yeah, I grew up in Resembool," he told her.

"Resembool. They got hit pretty bad during the Rebellion."

"Yeah. I remember once that the train was out for a month because the inbound tracks got bombed or something. You wouldn't know it to see it now, though. It's a quiet place."

"Hm," was her response. Then she said, "I'm from out that way, too. Not nearly as far as you, but I've been to that area."

"Have you?" He asked. They had reached the front doors now, and he thought to ask, "Where are you and the others staying while you're here, anyway?"

"Abram arranged hotel rooms or some such," she replied, "I believe this man is waiting to take me there." Relman gestured to the chauffer standing by an idling car. The man walked forward and took the trunk from him, and so he opened the back door of the car for her. As she stepped in, Relman said, "A word of advice, Mr. Elric. Lay low for a few days until the Convention. People are going to be in quite a stir over this."

"Alright then," he agreed, though not entirely liking the idea of being stuck in his apartment for days. It just seemed too big with Alphonse gone.

The chauffer had gotten settled in the driver's seat and started the car, so he stepped back as it pulled away from the curb. Then he began his walk home.

So, what does everyone think? I'm sorry about the OC-overload. Some more familiar characters will begin popping up soon, and that isn't the last of Roy Mustang! As for Grumman's first name…I just picked one. I couldn't find it anywhere! So sorry if that's weird or anything, but I did sort of have a reason for it. Anyway, thanks for all your feedback and ideas already! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review!