A/N: Mornin', mornin', guys.

Same disclaimer and warnings as in the previous chapter, I think I don't need to repeat myself. I don't own anything, dammit! But about the warnings - I didn't get to the part everyone waits. But I'm getting there, alright?

So, leave me a review! It helps a lot! Now, on with the story...

Chapter 2 – Sore Eyes

After six and a half long hours of working in the archives, the oldest of the Elric brothers nearly busted out the already severely abused office door, the poor thing being opened just as brutal as in the morning.

"Finished, bastard!" The boy grinned and threw a large envelope on the crammed desk, making the yawning man behind it jump. The man seated himself back in the comfy chair and yawned again, this time covering his mouth with ink stained fingers.

"Hey, Mustang, slacking off duty for a quick nap between papers?" Ed jested. "You look terrible, by the way."

"Thanks. The Lieutenant would shoot my brains off if I dozed off." The sleepy officer mimicked a gun to his head and returned to signing his name on reports. He loved his name, but he was tired of writing it.

"Whatever, I doubt it would make any difference if you were dead or alive. If she shoots you, you would have all the time you want to sleep. So, I'm out of here. Salute the Lieutenant for me!" The blond waved his automail hand goodbye and left the large room.

Roy could not help chuckling to the simple thought of dying when he had so much work to do. Suddenly, he realised the luxury of being put to rest.

Anyway, if he died, Hawkeye would shoot him for that. She was an efficient woman.

XXXXX

Without the prospect of indulging himself to enjoy a night off or a quiet death, Roy wandered the most obscure streets of his well-lit domicile city. He deeply hated the light that penetrated the night's darkness, like an unfaithful lover. The night was made to be dark, so why all the sudden light?

'Heh,' he humourlessly laughed inside his mind. 'I must have lost my eyesight for quite a while to think like this... but it seems it made me reconsider my surroundings,' he told himself as he paced aimlessly, eyes set far in the distance.

In a way, his blindness had been one of the best things he had experienced in his entire existence. Darkness brought him more wisdom than light ever could.

Indeed, he realised once again who his true friends were and who had his back for the worst. For some strange reasons he couldn't comprehend, Fullmetal was one of the most valuable persons in his life, despite their evident discrepancies. In fact, Roy started considering all their quarrels as friendly banters, because he truly cared for his young subordinate, just as he cared for all his subordinates. His best friends, to be truthfully said.

Strangely enough, the said alchemist also saw the raven man as an annoying friend he couldn't get rid of, one that got under his skin when he wasn't paying attention. There was some sort of bond between them after all those years of fighting the wind mills and flying kites together.

XXXXX

A wise man said there was no such thing as coincidence in life, that there is only fate. Considering that, it could not be a coincidence that Roy entered that random bar where he found Edward sitting on a stool and drinking alone. He grinned and headed for the blond.

"Hello, Fullmetal." He startled the teen with his deep voice.

"What the-oh, it's you." The blond pouted at his sight. He was not in the mood for company, but if he had to have any, so be it.

"Yes, no one but me. Mind if I join you?"

"You have no dogs to enslave? No gas to burn? No widows to rape? No nothing?" Ed asked, pulling out a chair with his leg for the unwanted guest.

"Not tonight, no. And I don't have to rape any widows! How did you even come up with that? Everyone is willing enough, you see." He cracked his signature smirk and accepted the offered chair.

"You are one perverted old man, if you ask me, but fine. How come you're alone, Mustang?"

"Same for you," Roy retorted, not wanting to admit his pathetic reasons. "Wasn't today your day off with your brother?"

"For your personal knowledge, it's three in the morning. Unlike you, people tend to sleep at night." Ed rolled his golden eyes, emphasising his annoyance.

"Apparently, you do not."

Edward looked defeated at the man. Yes, he was still much awake in the middle of the night. "So what? I'm not the only one who can't sleep tonight, right, useless bastard?"

Roy just nodded and smiled sweetly at the rather attractive waitress as he asked for a double whisky. Looking at the boy, he immediately changed his order with a whole bottle of the said liquor. "It's on me, Fullmetal. It seems we will spend some time in here."

"Not like I have to agree to that."

"No, you do not. But I know you will stay with me."

"Fine, old man." Ed nodded with the barest hint of a smile. He didn't enjoy drinking that much, but he supposed some liquor with the officer would not do him any harm. "As long as you are paying, fine by me," he added for good measure and drummed his fingers on the table.

The night passed eventless. The two alchemists drank away their loneliness together and rememorized some of the golden moments of their previous quests, like two old friends that missed talking to each other.

XXXXX

The night at the bar with the former colonel truly had been something nice, Edward thought to himself. He did not want to admit it, but the older man's company seemed to be quite a comfortable refuge from his own problems.

He arrived at his dorm to find an upset Alphonse standing at the door. "Brother, where have you been till this hour of the night- oh, my, it's morning! It's almost eight, brother! And you reek of alcohol! What have you done?" A genuine worry was plastered on Al's face.

"Nothing, don't worry, Al. I just went out with... some friends from work?" he replied unconvinced.

"Okay... but you should get some sleep, if not, who knows? Maybe you'll shorten!" the boy teased, Ed taking the bait.

"Who are you to call me a shrimp you can barely see with a magnifier," the older brother argued poorly, voice too hoarse to be considered a threat. He was tired, really, and he was not as short as he used to be, he reminded himself. After he reunited Alphonse's body with his soul, his growth suddenly spurred, so he did not need to inflame as much as he used to. But for old time's sake, he did.

"I didn't say that! Go to bed, now! You have another day off, right? I'll wake you up later. You shouldn't sleep all day," Al waved off his sibling.

"Don't you dare, Al! I know where you're living!" Ed averted. It was a very bad idea to wake up the acid alchemist, no matter how late it was. His brother knew better than to do that unless he wanted a few broken bones, but he could at least tease Edward, who just threw himself on the nearest bed and instantly fell asleep.

XXXXX

An entire week passed similarly. After a long talk with Edward, the exhausted Brigadier General walked home to change his clothes for work. It was interesting how he was still able to walk after such a severe sleep deprivation, but the sight of Ed gave him energy he did not know he possessed.

Hawkeye arrived slightly earlier than usual and knocked at his door. He opened it and let the woman inside with a little smile. Seeing an imminent rainstorm coming and the man in front of her with less determination than a rock, fighting to maintain some kind of fresh facade and failing miserably, she instructed him to stay at home for the day. The man wanted to argue, but his primal instinct to run as far away as he could from work told him better. Though he didn't like her kindness, not one bit.

He yawned and showed Riza the way to the living room. Surprisingly, the house which always looked like it was full of people, though only one lived there, seemed awfully empty and dead. She roamed her eyes though the room, trying to find out what changed.

The alchemist took a seat on the couch and stretched himself lazily. He motioned for her to sit as well. Remembering his manners, he asked his assistant if she wanted something to drink.

Hawkeye stood dangerously still in front of him, almost towering over his much larger figure. She completely ignored his kind question and continued to study his face. "Sir, pardon my intrusion, but when was the last time you have slept?"

Roy looked confused at her, but responded nonetheless, trying not to alarm the female officer. "Err... a few hours... ish... days? Not too many, of course."

Her eyes were glaring daggers back at him. "Do you mind telling me the reason why you cannot sleep? Excuse me, but you look like a wreck, not to say your house looks like you haven't spent the night in it in a while."

Mustang began to get irritated by her insistence and replied sternly, "Lieutenant, it is a matter that does not concern you."

"Roy, if you get ill over your idiocy, fine by me. But don't involve others," she crossed her arm over her chest. "What's wrong with you?"

"Excuse me? What do you mean?" he immediately retorted, knowing very well what his aide was about to say.

"You know very well what I mean. Alphonse Elric called me a few days ago to ask why Edward looked so tired when he came home. In the morning. He never did that before, he said."

'Shoot,' he thought. He was right from the beginning. He decided to play innocent for a while before she told him all that bothered her. "Is there something wrong with Fullmetal? Did Al say something?" Roy chanced.

"Don't think I don't see what you're doing. It is great you two get along, but you both need to rest! Yesterday, you almost fell asleep on duty! It's easier if you sleep on your pillow than on a pool of ink, it stains less!" She fervently gestured, making her point.

Mustang sighed defeated and almost wanted to ask how she had found out about their 'bar research', as he preferred dubbing their encounters. Alphonse was most likely clueless about the extent of their meetings, knowing only that his brother returned very late at the dorm he slept in when he had guests.

He felt bad for dragging Edward with him from a pub to another when the other was visibly not used to drinking so much and leading such an unhealthy lifestyle. He felt bad, yet not sorry.

"It is not that hard to read you after all these years and even when I can't do it, you are the one who gives away the needed clues. Him coming home late, you passing out in the middle of work... it's not that hard to put two and two together," she answered his unspoken question. "It makes four."

"Alright, I see," he made, thinking of a way out of the subject. "Fullmetal and I work on a very delicate project and we need to discuss essential matters. I would kindly ask not to interfere, because the results are to be shown later. I assure you, you will be the first to see them. Might be revolutionary," he said, not really sure if it was a viable truth or even a lie at all.

At least some of it was true. Edward and he were talking about elaborating some formulas combining Xing and Amestris' alchemy styles, but that did not go much further than baseless theories discussed over alcohol. How trustable could that sort of thinking be?

"Revolutionary?" Hawkeye snorted. "Sir, I don't see what's so revolutionary in working yourself into exhaustion, but fine. If you two have something in mind that might help the people of this country, go ahead. I shall help if I can." She nodded curtly and showed signs of wanting to leave.

Roy followed her to the entrance and saluted her before closing the door. He collapsed on the floor and rubbed his temples. If Hawkeye knew what he was thinking about every time he went out with Edward, she would probably kill him.

"Damn it, Roy!" he cursed loudly. Now he had to come up with a good science theory so that he didn't end up looking like a fool. The Lieutenant would mock him endlessly if he didn't succeed.

Damn his luck and his mouth. If only he learnt when to stop talking, his life would have been so much easier.

XXXXX

After an entire day off with nothing to do but test whatever Roy had discussed with Edward in their questionably lucid states, the small Mustang mansion looked like after suffering an explosion. Everything was scattered all over the place, the study and living room were a mess and it smelled of gunpowder. But it was totally worth it, Roy thought.

By pure accident, he had managed to discover a new style of alchemy, one that combined both the usual deconstruction and reconstruction techniques and the Xingese purification arts. It felt more stable than anything basic alchemy could provide and far more powerful, but it had less written documentation than words in colouring books.

Anyway, if what he had done proved to be a complete waste of time and not the expected success, at least he managed to destroy half of his house in a few easily reproducible steps. Maybe he had invented a new method of redecorating for less money, he consoled himself. He had to look at the bright side instead of thinking how much he had to write to present it to a qualified audience.

He took a seat on the floor and looked at the disaster. He pulled his notebook from the debris and looked at the few sketches he drew with satisfaction. Did he say that theorizing over alcohol was no good? He must have been deadly mistaken because he was convinced he was holding gold in his hands.

He knew he had managed to do something unique. He was sure that everything he and Fullmetal talked about in their encounters in various bars was their way to more recognition among alchemists, perhaps even a place in the books. He was not sure how they managed to do it, though. They both twisted their brains out on their own, struggling to figure out a way to compose the formulas he now had in his hands, all thanks to their combined efforts. Maybe they were meant to work together like that, Edward suggesting ideas and Roy writing them down in order.

However, he had no idea why he had to try it indoors. How sane could a man who blew up his house voluntarily be? But who suggested he was sane, to begin with.

Musing to his achievement, Roy started rearranging the destroyed interior. Humming, he picked everything up and put things back where they belonged. He repaired the damaged furniture and then returned to his notes. He needed to write more about the discovery before it was too late and he forgot the steps.

A sudden knock pulled the alchemist out of his working trance, startling him so badly he spilled an ink bottle he had forgotten open after recharging his pen. He hurried to the door, straightening his clothes and patting the black wet stains on his pants. His serious face fell when he realised who the one disturbing him was.

"Hello, Fullmetal, what are– "

"Hello yourself, care to explain why I've felt energy being pulled out of the ground?" Ed asked and pushed Roy to the side. He entered the house and hurried to the living room.

"Err?"

"Dammit, Mustang, quit beating around the bush! Did you manage to combine our formulas? That is if you remembered them, you looked pretty smashed last night" The teen tapped the floor with his automail foot, feeling restless.

"Yes," the raven haired alchemist stated. "A success."

"I can see that, your house looks like a small war front." Edward stopped to pat his commanding officer on the shoulder with a dirty look. "Heh, so this means we did it. We have made alchemy and alkahestry work together as one. The Earth flow and the Dragon pulse." A big grin formed on his young face.

"I mainly did the work, but yes," the other one remarked in his usual disinterested way. "I wasn't sure if it would work, our reasoning was flawless, alright, yet I had some reserve due to the environment. But it seems to me that drinking did the trick."

"Bastard, you were the one dragging me out of the house!" Edward playfully punched Roy's shoulder, pleased with what he was seeing. "I want a raise. And a promotion, do you hear me? I didn't have to suffer your drunken nagging for nothing!" Mustang grinned even bigger at that, showing his perfectly white teeth.

"Of course," Roy agreed and put his arm around Ed's shoulders. He squeezed them fondly, feeling warmth blossoming on his cheeks. He shook his head and smiled. "We are good," he praised them and started laughing.

"Mhm," Edward hummed in agreement and patted Roy's hand on his shoulder. "We damn sure are good, Mustang."

If drinking for just a few nights out with Fullmetal could get them to such promising results, Roy realised he should start investing in alcohol.

Just in case, he never knew when opportunity might present itself again.

XXXXX

After removing all traces of spilled black ink from his body, Roy joined Edward in the sitting room. Together, they started cleaning up his house, needing a place to write. They wrote about the results of their little experiment, detailing every step that led to the outcome. They needed to undertake more experiments, but they had the foundation.

They had to work as methodically as possible. They had to justify everything they noted down to prove the value of their discovery. Their combined work guaranteed more fuel to Mustang's notoriety and Fullmetal's fame, it was decided from the beginning. It might have been a little rough around the edges, but they would definitely get a promotion, much to Roy's delight.

It was four in the morning when they finished the draft of the documentation. They were both tired, yet they felt very much alive. It was not something that happened every day.

Ed knew he should have gone home, but he just couldn't bring himself to leave after all the excitement he had experienced.

He didn't want to return to that hotel room he started to call home whenever his brother was out of town. Alphonse had already left and the small military dorm was empty. He didn't want to leave. He felt lonely, he finally admitted to himself with a sigh.

Roy offered to house his subordinate for the night, who accepted the offer hurriedly. They both fell asleep instantly on each other's shoulder, on the floor, surrounded by a fort of papers and books. They were safe in their little world, content and at peace.

The morning came too soon, the sunrays startling Roy awake. His waking process was helped by Ed's automail smoothly implanted in his forearm as he shifted unconsciously. He cringed in sudden pain - the metal must have bruised his skin. He cursed the boy's rolling in his sleep and born reflex to kill him.

"Fullmetal! Hey, Fullmetal... Edward?" Roy gently shook the small frame. "Edward, wake up."

"Err? Wha- What are you doing? Let go of me, Roy!" The boy blushed hearing the name pass through his lips. He hid his face behind the long bangs spilling over his eyes. What a way to wake up.

"I was saving my face from your right hand! Did you have a bad dream?" The officer rubbed his forearm absently, looking at him.

Ed realised he did have a nightmare, but it seemed like it had subsided when he felt the other's presence so close to him. "No! What makes you say that?"

He sounded guilty as charged, but Roy overlooked that fact. He distanced himself from the youngster and flew to the kitchen to find something to eat.

"Hey, Fullmetal! Want some coffee?" Roy yelled from the rather large kitchen, his voice echoing strangely.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, black! With lots of sugar!" Ed replied with a shout.

"That's not black!"

"Just put the damn sugar and shut up."

Roy came back to the living room with two mugs of good smelling coffee, two sandwiches and some pastries. "Breakfast! Make some room on the table, please," he demanded from the door.

"My, my, did you really get prepared for my arrival?" Edward teased. "This is a feast for the sore eyes."

"You are just being lucky, Hawkeye came last morning to tell me to stay at home and she brought pastries with her." He gave Fullmetal one of the plates.

"Great, I'll remember to thank her. I'm starving!" The blond snatched the plate and started eating.

They had their breakfast in silence, mainly because Ed busied himself with stuffing food in his mouth. Roy stared at the younger man with a sweet little smile and watched his every facial muscle move. He really wondered why the boy woke up so violently. He wanted to know why he had spent the night there, with him, when he could have just gone to the dorms. They were not that far away, if he recalled correctly.

He could not complain, nevertheless. They said that gifts were taken away from those who complained, so who was he to push his luck.

A/N: Okay, okay, let's say it wasn't too bad. Next chapter will have more interaction and I'll post it soon. Thanks for reading and review, will you?