May 24th, 1996

There was never going to be a good time to bring it up, Cal decided. Or a good way. Anytime, or in any way, asking Edward about how he had overcome his alcohol problem without any apparent relapse in decades, was going to be uncomfortable for Cal, and probably both of them. So, the evening Alyse had all four of the elder Elrics over for dinner seemed like the easiest time to get Edward alone for a few minutes when it wasn't going to be horribly awkward or obvious.

He waited until Winry and Elicia were in the kitchen with Alyse, and Alphonse was distracted by Molasses and Butterscotch, and then gave Edward a look and a nod towards the backyard, the same way he would have motioned for a fellow State Alchemist that he needed to have a word during a mission.

Fortunately, it hadn't been so long that Edward had forgotten any of the old signals he had taught them in the first place. Together, they slipped out of the room and into the back yard. Using the cane, Cal slowly led the way out towards the fish pond. There were a couple of lawn chairs there, and anyone watching from the house would, he hoped, think they were just admiring the fish.

"This have something to do with the Arsenic investigation, or something else?" Edward asked as they stood in the warm late-spring evening.

"Something else." Cal looked down at the fish, trying not to lose his nerve now. "It's… intensely personal." Part of him hoped, in that moment, that Edward would simply guess what it was and save him from having to admit it out loud, but he didn't. The older alchemist stood there, with patience Cal would never have ascribed to the Fullmetal Alchemist for most of the years he had known the man. Except that at times, when he wanted to be, Edward Elric could wait you out through sheer stubborn will. Not that it seemed to be the case here. "I need some advice, and you seemed like the best person to ask."

He definitely had Edward's interest. There were, really, a wide variety of subjects on which one might ask Edward's opinions or advice. "I'll answer anything I can."

This was never going to get easier. "I promised Alyse I'd quit drinking. Not like I do much of that these days compared to what I used to but… it's turned out to be harder than I thought it would be."

That aha expression of Edward's crossed his face, but no other clues as to what he was thinking. "How so?" he asked simply.

"I'm not even entirely sure how to explain it," Cal admitted. "It feels like I'm leaving myself open, or unprotected, which I know doesn't make any sense. It feels… vulnerable. But, it's something I lean into when I can't deal… and I know that's bad. It needs to stop, but it's like I know that it won't. So, I was hoping you could tell me how you did it."

Edward sighed; his expression thoughtful. "First, you have to want to stop. Given you're asking, is that what you want? Not just what Alyse wants?"

Cal grimaced. "I wish I could just say yes. Problem is, as terrified as I am right now, part of me doesn't want to because I'd miss enjoying the flavors, trying new drinks, relaxing at the end of the day when I'm too wound up. What I want, is to not feel like I need it. I wish I didn't have to give it up entirely to do that but… but I don't know what else to do because managing isn't working." He could pretend it all he wanted, but it would be just that.

Edward nodded. "Well, as far as taste without the alcohol itself, there's a trick for that, with alchemy, you might try. I've been using it for years to neutralize the alcohol in drinks. They taste nearly identical. You've seen me do it."

Cal nodded. He had, though he'd never tried it. In fact, until Edward said something, he had forgotten. "That's a start." He could try that… if it came to it. Not that Alyse would bring anything in the house for him to test it on at this point. "What about when you… want the effects? How do you stop wanting it?"

"The best way? It's different for everyone, but the first step has to be to find a better way to deal with the things that make you feel like you need a drink." Edward's expression of concern was understandable, and possibly slightly skeptical.

Cal couldn't blame him for skepticism. When he thought back on the number of times Edward had featured in interrupting Cal in bars over the years—even a handful was notable—he had a right to doubt Cal both in his sincerity and his ability. "I don't know how," he admitted. "I've spent years trying, and sometimes it's better than others, but only when life is going smoothly. I don't know how to not feel the emotions I can't deal with. If I try, they just build up and explode later. The release…. It doesn't come sober. It's usually… a fight, or fear. The nightmares… sometimes they come back even if I'm taking medication for them, for the anxiety."

"What are you afraid of?" Edward asked.

For a moment, Cal considered that sort of a foolish question to ask a retired State Alchemist, but Edward wouldn't have asked if it wasn't straight to the heart of the matter. And Cal realized, he knew the answer. "Being alone." It sounded so stupid out loud, Cal practically had to force the words from his throat. "Losing…anyone else… anything else. But especially Alyse. I just… I can't live without her. I know she's fine right now, but even knowing I could lose her, ever. Especially since the cancer…. It's like it tears away at my insides and I just can't stand it. It's… well it's always been like that, on some level, but lately the feeling's even worse."

"And counseling hasn't done anything for you?"

"Please don't tell me that's your solution." Cal winced. "As many things as I've had to work through with them over the years, I just… somehow this has never been one of those things." Not that he had ever admitted to them how much he drank. It had honestly not occurred to him at the time. After all, a lot of soldiers drank. They partied in their off time. They got lonely and fended off the feelings of impending death with the distractions of attractive partners.

He knew Edward knew this. Yet, somehow, Edward had managed to overcome a low point that Cal could only fathom in his worst nightmares. If Alyse had ever left him, when they'd fought and had rough patches, he could never have handled it then either. Even a fight—something they hadn't had in a while—had sent him to the bars. When he'd lost most of his mobility and had thought he'd never recover any of it, that oblivion had been all he craved.

"Honestly, I got the best psychological counseling of my life from a hundred-plus-year-old man." Edward's grin turned a little amused, for just a moment, before he went serious again. "I'm not quite there yet, and I'm honestly not sure what he did with me would work for you. My problem was in my head, in the end. When I realized I honestly didn't want it, I'd already worked past most of the causes on my own. I accepted long ago that, at some point, one of us has to go first. If it's Winry, I know it will hurt more than any other loss ever has, even than the death of my mother, but we've had an amazing, full life together I never used to think was possible. As an alchemist, there's at least a little comfort in One is All, and All is One. And… I've had a few experiences that lead me to think that it's possible that there is more after we're gone, even if I have no idea what that might be."

Edward was right. Cal wasn't anywhere near that point. The older he got, the more he feared the death of the people he cared about. As for himself… most of his life he realizations that he didn't want to die had come in the middle of situations where he almost had. His only visions of a life without Alyse were nightmares. How was he supposed to become okay with that?

"Seriously, you should talk to someone who does this kind of counseling for a living," Edward continued after a minute when Cal said nothing. "As much as I'm always willing to talk, and share what I went through, I'm not a qualified professional, just a friend. And, even though it's been decades since I even wanted a drink, or anything else, I've still been told by doctors I'm not allowed to touch any medication made from kashu."

Cal hadn't thought about that. But then, his knowledge of Edward's sensitivities to the drug had only been relevant during the war, when they might be injured on the same battlefield. Edward only used the analgesics Ethan had developed that weren't based on the ingredient that made kashu so potently effective. Though it was also used far less often now than it used to be, thanks to the prevalence of less addictive medications. "I guess that was harder."

"Much." Edward admitted, but he said it casually, as if it were of little consequence. "I don't crave it anymore, but I never wanted to. Still, the sensitivity, it's not something I can ever take again, not even in a properly medicated dose, and that's my own fault. For not dealing with what was up here." Edward tapped his head. "I wish I had something better for you, but it's a little different for every one of us."

"No. I…appreciate the talk, and the perspective." Cal rubbed the space between his eyes. The whole thing made his head hurt. "You wised up a lot faster than I did." He'd been drinking since he was fifteen…and the more he thought about those early decades, when he hadn't thought about it, the worse it was looking back. "You even warned me… years ago." He hadn't known the whole story behind Edward's implosion after the Aerugo War, or what it had really done to him, for years, because he'd missed it trapped in his own agony during his auto-mail rehabilitation. "All this time, I honestly thought I had things under control. But I've just been lying to myself, and hiding by not thinking about it too deeply."

He wasn't sure what else to say, or if there was anything else to say. He had gotten the answers he came for, and they weren't as much help as he had hoped. That wasn't Edward's fault. "Thanks for being willing to talk about it."

"Anytime," Edward replied simply. "And as always, I won't say a word to anyone."

A fact Cal had appreciated more than once over the years. "Thanks. That means a lot."

May 25th, 1996

Franz wished he could look past the little mirror in front of him in the private berth he and Sara had been sharing on the train to Pylos, and enjoy the remaining scenery as they pulled into the city. Instead, he was looking at the outfit Sara had put together for him as a disguise, of sorts, for their walk and taxi ride from the train station through the city.

While they had been given little choice but to use their legal names for the train tickets, Sara had made a point of making sure that they looked a bit less recognizable as themselves on the train, and during their not-on-the-official-itinerary stops to look for clues regarding the bombing of the train and Arsenic's probable involvement. All under the guise of a romantic touristy outing.

Of course, Franz simply no longer needing to wear his glasses helped make him almost unrecognizable if one only knew him from his time as President, and all of his professional photos, in which the thick rims and heavy glass were a focal point.

This one was possibly his least favorite disguise so far.

"There we go. What do you think?" Sara asked as she stood back and let him see the mirror.

If he hadn't known who he was looking at, Franz wasn't sure he would have recognized himself. Sara had slicked his hair back and put it under the hat, making him look like he had a sharply receding hairline and less hair than he—thankfully—still did. The shirt was a little small, as was the jacket. Layered as the clothes were, he looked a good bit heavier than he was. Without his glasses… well he didn't think his parents would have recognized him. "I'm impressed," he admitted. "At least it's convincing."

"Slouch a little. You stand too straight for a regular guy on the street."

Franz tried it, and grimaced. "I look like an old, overweight slob."

"Which means no one will recognize you," Sara assured him with a smile, and a kiss on the side of the cheek.

"Except that this is me…"

"No, this is Frank. A perfectly handsome average Amestrian retiree, looking to enjoy an exotic location with his devoted wife." She was still smiling. "Besides, I don't look anything much like me either. Your darling homemaker of a wife, Sunny, has always wanted to get out of town and see the world, and we've finally saved up enough money."

Franz felt Sara definitely looked more like herself. Or at least, he found her costume more flattering. Her hair down and framing her face was definitely a different look outside the house. She wore a cute little round felt hat in a vibrant reddish-purple, that matched the outermost knit sweater she wore. It was a summer weight, but he knew she had layered it over a couple of thinner shirts, and the cut did not flatter her figure. But then, the point was to change her shape. If he hadn't known what she normally looked like, he probably would not have noticed. With a little make-up—more obvious than anything she ever wore regularly—and the outfit, she certainly did look different. "Well, I think you may still be too pretty not to attract attention."

"As long as no one recognizes us, that's fine. Besides, if they look at me, they won't be looking at you. Don't worry, once we arrive safely at the Argyros estate you can go back to standing with military precision, wearing properly fitted clothes, and being recognizably yourself. At least, when we aren't trying to sneak around looking for information."

Franz sighed, and looked back at his reflection one more time. Frank buddy, our wife is nuts.

Still, the ploy had worked so far, so Franz was not inclined to stop letting Sara have her fun. Besides which, there was the official visit to enjoy. They were here on a vacation, on top of seeing the Argyros family, especially Minxia and Thrakos. Franz knew that Thrakos was looking forward to picking his brain on international politics, and Franz was happy to offer whatever he could. Between him and Arius, they should have no problem giving Thrakos whatever he needed for a solid run at becoming the next head of the Cretan government.

"I'm not sure I want to see their reactions when we show up at the door like this. We might get told we're in the wrong place."

"We won't," Sara promised, grinning even wider. "I told Arius we'd be coming in low profile."

Of course, she had. "I'm glad you're enjoying this."

"It's more fun than being shot at, or plagued by reporters, or security guards."

That was all true. They had managed to slip out of Central without a single security guard, and so far, they hadn't needed one. Nor had they been recognized. It wouldn't last once they hit Pylos. Not when they were out and about in any official capacity, but as they were there as private citizens, and had come through the border check legally, there was nothing saying they couldn't be there.

Underneath them, the brakes engaged and the train began to slow. "Looks like we're here." He turned away from the mirror, and closed his suitcase. "I guess we'll see how well your disguise skills work here."

"I'm not worried about here." Sara grinned. "The real test would be if they hold up in back in Central."

There was no trouble or disturbance on the taxi ride from the train station to the Argyros estate. Not that Sara would have expected much attention even if they had come to Pylos more openly. It was simply ego to presume that the world at large would care about two retired military officers from another country, no matter who they were. The people who would care most, were political bigshots. The average Cretan person would probably not have recognized them on the street.

They certainly didn't in disguise, though the taxi driver gave them no sign of anything strange when they gave him the street address of the Argyros Estate. Perhaps he was new. He did have a slightly wider expression when he actually pulled up and let them out. Only the house staff waiting at the entrance to take their bags—and who handed him payment—convinced him they were actually supposed to be there.

Arius Argyros and Fiorza, his wife, were waiting just inside, and Sara was glad to see her old friend smiling. She knew his health concerns had been serious—he would never have resigned otherwise—but while he looked a bit thinner than she remembered, he did not look ill.

"Sara, my old friend," Arius stepped forward, grinning as he hugged her without hesitation. "It's so good to finally see you again in person. It has been too long."

"Far too long," Sara agreed as she accepted the hug. Her last visit to Creta had been before her time in Drachma. She accepted Fiorza's hug with equal warmth, then grinned as Franz found himself equally embraced. "How are you, Arius?"

"Better, much better," he assured them. "Though I must apologize to you for the mess in which I have left Cretan/Amestrian relations by stepping down."

"It's hardly your fault." Franz shook his head. "Health has to come first."

Sara hoped Franz was aware of the fact that she would never let him forget that he had uttered those words. Perhaps he was speaking from his voice of experience. "Your life is definitely more important than a little international inconvenience," she added, smiling.

"Of course, though we can discuss politics later," Fiorza said, cutting in with a knowing smile. "You two should have a moment to get comfortable and change out of your travel attire before Arius talks your ears off."

"Speaking of which… I have to admit, when you told me you were coming in disguises to keep a low profile, I did not expect quite this level of authenticity." Arius chuckled.

"You like them?" Sara grinned wickedly. "The height of out-of-style elderly Amestrian fashion. No one looked at us twice, except maybe to be insulted by my lack of color sense."

"Which is to say yes, we'd love a moment to change and settle in," Franz said with an emphatic nod.

Sara refrained from commenting. She knew he wasn't in love with the outfits, but he definitely looked unrecognizable to anyone who didn't know him really well, and was expecting Franz as he was by preference: with straight posture, properly groomed, and well dressed, even if he was being casual. She was still probably one of the only people who did not find it all that odd to see him without glasses at all. The little readers he wore still when his eyes got tired doing close-up work looked odder than none at all, given how much the thick frames needed to hold the old lenses had been a dominant feature of his attire for as long as she had known him.

They were shown to the room that was theirs for their stay, though it could more accurately be called a suite. There was a sitting room, a bedroom, a private bathroom, and a walk-in closet. It wasn't a large walk-in closet, but it was still more space than she had in their entire bedroom back home for her clothes. The rooms were all wood-paneled to the chair rails that ran along the walls, in a dark stain, with a deep blue-green on the walls above. The fabrics in the curtains and the sitting area furniture, were lighter, with stripes of cream, and a blue and a green that complimented each other and the walls. The bedding was luxurious, and mostly greens, but thinner weight for the Cretan summer heat. Sara suspected Ethan was grateful his trip to Southern Creta earlier that year had been in the middle of winter. "This is delightful!"

"This is the same room they gave me when I was here for Minxia's wedding." Franz smiled. "It was lonely without you in it."

Sara flushed a little at the look in his eyes. "I'm glad you were here for it. I'm looking forward to actually meeting Thrakos, as an adult. He was still a boy the last time I saw him." A good natured but fractious boy that reminded her as much of Ziro as he did Arius. She had been assured that Ziro and his wife would be over during their visit. She wasn't sure if their one child would be coming. He was, of course, also fully grown. "What should I wear?"

"Anything that isn't four layers of extra padding," Franz suggested wryly as he started stripping layers. "I may do a quick rinse off because as impressive as this disguise was, I have been sweating since we got off the train."

"Go ahead. They'll understand." Sara turned back to her own unpacking. By the time Franz had showered, she had put most of her clothes up in the closet, or in drawers, so they wouldn't get horribly wrinkled, though a couple of items would need ironing before they were worn. Days on the train made that unavoidable. She opted for one of her few summer dresses, a light peachy color with small green-and-white florals across the whole design. It had short, fluttery sheer sleeves, and a skirt that stopped a few inches below the knees. It was comfortable, and much more flattering, without looking like someone out of step with fashion. It was age appropriate without looking frumpy and old, or too young. Or so she had been assured when Alyse had helped her pick it out.

While her hair had been down in disguise, it was also a bit hot for the weather. Sara brushed it out, and then twisted back the sides into the back in a low tail, with only her bangs loose. The only jewelry she bothered with was a simple, delicate golden chain necklace that had been a gift from Franz, and her wedding ring. Flat, comfortable shoes completed the outfit.

"Well now, that's better," Franz's voice made her turn. He was grinning at her appreciatively.

Sara had to agree reciprocally. Franz, showered, and dressed in properly fitting, pressed tan slacks, and one of his summer weight dress shirts—this one a light, warm green, looked much more like himself. He stood straight, and just the change of outfit was enough to drop the appearance of a good thirty or forty pounds she had put on him with the bulky layers and the slouched posture he had been feigning. His thick hair had been blow-dried and had its proper volume back. "Yes it is."

Franz crossed the room and kissed her. "I would appreciate a more flattering disguise if you can manage it."

Sara chuckled. "Would you prefer the Ian treatment? We could dress you up as an older movie star, go ultra-stylish and have everyone wondering who you are instead."

"That might defeat our purposes for stepping out as anyone other than ourselves."

"True." Sara "I guess I'll just have to keep all your handsomeness to myself. Now, let's go join our hosts. I don't know about you, but I could use a cold, refreshing beverage."

Franz held out his arm. "Of course, Belle. Let's go."

The way Arius and Fiorza's eyes lit up when they came in, Sara had a feeling they were appreciating their disguises even more than they had earlier. Well, it's been years and we're all getting older.

Apparently, Franz had noticed their faces as well, because he chuckled. "I'm not sure how reassuring it is that you look surprised."

Arius looked guilty just a moment, then was smiling again a second later. "Let's just say I'm even more impressed. You both look wonderful."

"Thank you," Sara accepted the compliment graciously. "So, what's the plan for the rest of today?"

"Relaxing and catching up, unless there was something pressing you wanted to see," Arius answered. "We've got drinks waiting out on the veranda over the gardens, and Thrakos, Minxia, and the children will be over this evening for dinner. My son is very eager to speak with both of you about anything you have to offer." He still looked a little bemused by that fact.

As far as Sara understood it, Thrakos had spent most of his life expressing a strong determination not to follow his father and grandfather's careers into politics. All of his involvement had to do with his work supporting Minxia's archeological work and preserving Cretan historical sites and artifacts. "Anything we can do to help strengthen his positions and get him into office, we're happy to give as long as it doesn't divulge state secrets." She grinned at that last.

"Well of course, not that information." Arius agreed easily.

Fiorza rolled her eyes and stepped up. "Let's wait for them to arrive before you dive into politics for the rest of the evening. Come. Refreshments are ready, and I am dying to hear everything your family has been up to."

Friendly gossip, not politics. That sounded good to Sara. After spending decades as the first lady of Creta, Sara imagined Fiorza had been looking forward to hearing less about politics after Arius resigned. Of course, it wasn't turning out that way. Sara nodded and followed her friend. "That will take us a few hours, if not days."

Fiorza chuckled. "Good! All I hear lately is politics and I am dying to hear something more interesting."

May 27th, 1996

"Get it!" Sara shouted, clearly resisting the urge to dive across the court after it herself.

Franz wouldn't call what he did diving, but he did reach for the incoming shuttlecock with all he had, his racket barely connecting at the last moment and setting it flying back towards their opponents—

-only to slam into the net, and drop unceremoniously to the ground.

"Twenty-one to sixteen. Looks like we win," Minxia grinned across the badminton court at them. "Nice game!"

"Seeing as I haven't played in years, I think we did pretty well," Sara chuckled as they all walked to the next, and shook hands.

Trying not to look like he was breathing heavily, Franz reached out and shook Thrakos' hand. All things considered, including that it had been a very long time since he had played any kind of team sport, he felt he had kept up rather well. Being able to see as well as he could had definitely improved his game. He had been good at badminton in his younger years, when his distance vision had still been good. He was glad to see he still had it. Though he was definitely missing his old stamina. It was a good thing they were all in shorts and short-sleeved collared shirts.

Stamina that the younger man in front of him had in spades. In fact, aside from the wavier hair, and darker complexion, Thrakos in his thirties wasn't built all that differently from Franz in those days: taller, lean, and while he wasn't as muscled as an active-duty military officer, it was clear he spent time working out. Clearly, he didn't like sitting still behind a desk any more than a lot of people Franz knew. Minxia looked just as good, but then she was one of those who couldn't remain sedentary. They had both admitted to playing regularly before making the friendly challenge. "You make good competition," Thrakos grinned at him, without a hint of sarcasm. "I hope you'll forgive me, but I really didn't think you'd make it as close as it was."

They had played three games, and while Thrakos and Minxia had actually won all three, the margins had gotten narrower with each game. "If I had it in me to go one more round, we might catch you," Franz replied, smiling back. "But I'm not too proud to admit that what I really want right now is a cold drink."

"Fiorza said lunch should be ready about now." Minxia nodded up towards the house, which was only partially visible through the sculpted bushes of the garden that lined that end of the court.

Together, the four of them walked down the paths through the summer gardens, which were a riot of blossoms in every hue, and verdant foliage. The light floral scent, and the hint of salt and seagrass from the ocean not more than a few minutes' drive west, filled the air. All in all, it was very relaxing now that he wasn't trying not to die on the court.

Okay, so perhaps that was a bit of hyperbole, even in his own mind. Since his eyes had been fixed, Franz had joined Sara in more active pursuits. He felt more confident that he wouldn't trip, fall, and break something that would take months to heal, and that made it easier to exercise again. They went for walks—he sometimes followed her on runs but she kindly made those shorter if he came along—and had been trying out a variety of games and other activities besides shooting… like badminton.

Lunch was, as promised, set up on the veranda, and Franz looked forward to what proved to be another delicious—but not overly indulgent—meal. He hadn't had to worry, so far, on their trip about being inundated with food he felt it would be bad manners not to consume. It seemed that Arius' physicians had set up a fairly strict diet for him while he was on the mend, and generally everyone had been following along-suit. It wasn't all that restrictive on items, but they were much healthier meals, with far more reasonable portions.

Today's lunch included a light caprese salad, served with shellfish straight off the boat that morning, served chilled on the half-shell with a light citrus sauce if desired. Anywhere other than right near the ocean, and purchased from a respectable market, Franz would not have dared eat raw shellfish. It was a delight, however, to enjoy them here. Sara clearly enjoyed them as well, and the first part of the meal was eaten mostly in quiet except for the exclamations of enjoyment over the food, and occasional chit-chat. To drink, there was both a pitcher of fresh water, and a minty beverage that was a little sweet, but also had a little hint of acidic sourness that was incredibly refreshing in the heat that Thrakos referred to as sekanjabin.

Damien and Irisa were spending the day with their grandparents, which gave Thrakos and Minxia the entire Saturday to spend with Franz and Sara. So far, they had kept to the pleasantries of family conversation, and of course being trounced athletically.

With the removal of plates after lunch, there was a general shift in the mood towards the other main reason Franz and Sara were here.

"So, where did you want to start?" Franz asked as he set his napkin down on the table and leaned back a little in his chair. Political discussion the night of their arrival had been general, and more about the current situation in both countries than any particular advice on his part for Thrakos.

Thrakos smiled. "I was about to ask you the same. Honestly, I think the most useful thing would be your thoughts on how I, as someone who has never served in any military capacity, can not only be a candidate that the Cretan military would support, but would also respect in the office, and anything I should probably know about how military officers generally think."

Well, that was easy enough, and one they could both answer. Franz spoke up first though. "While it's true you haven't done active military service, you have been involved in behind-enemy-lines special ops recon," he grinned. "Unless you aren't going to give yourself credit for your involvement in freeing a large portion of the Imperial family of Xing from enemy hands in their own province."

Thrakos' eyes lit up.

Minxia grinned and elbowed him lightly in the side. "I told you."

Thrakos nodded, and had the good grace to look mildly sheepish. "That all felt so unplanned and… haphazard."

"You don't want to know how aptly that describes a lot of complex missions even a few minutes in with a well-laid initial plan." Sara chuckled. "Franz is right. When they ask about your lack of an official service record, or however they try and spin it, start there. Be humble, acknowledge that it wasn't the reason you were there, but they'll respect the hell out of you for stepping up and jumping in where you were needed. It shows that you do understand how much more they know about what they're doing than you do, and how much you respect the capabilities of a well-trained military. Do you have any friends currently in the Cretan military?"

"A couple, but they're mostly lower-ranking officers." Thrakos shrugged. "No one with major clout. I mean, there are some older officers that know my father who will still speak out on my behalf, but that's hardly the same. I want to be viable as a candidate on my own merits, not just the family name and the work of my father and grandfather. Not that I'll ignore those things when they're assets," he added quickly. "But I'm not a replica of my father, and I don't want to present myself as one."

"A wise decision." Franz could agree with, and respect, that determination. "With the military, it's best to be straight forward and don't try to pander to them. They won't like you for it, except a small few who won't matter in the long run. Own what you know, admit what you don't, and make it clear that you will trust the military officers to advise you on military matters." It helped that the Cretan military was smaller than Amestris', and less involved in international matters. Aside from their assistance with the western front in Drachma, and their skirmishes several years back with Kartos before they'd made peace, they hadn't been actively in conflict with anyone else since they had come to Amestris' aid during the Drachman invasion decades ago. Most of their work involved intelligence, national security, internal peacekeeping when needed, and disaster relief.

There were days Franz had wished that was all the Amestrian military needed to do, and times he wondered if downsizing a little might not be best for all concerned. Though he had known that even suggesting such a thing would have been explosive. Too many people would not believe that they were safe from Drachma, even if they trusted the rest of their neighbors.

Thrakos looked reassured. "That seems simple enough. Almost too simple, to be honest, but straightforward is easier than trying some complicated subtle political ploy, which I'm not experienced at anyway."

"Given the current political mess, that might be a selling point," Sara pointed out. "No one expects you to be too politically conniving. None of your work up to this point has required it. But, given your family experience, they're expecting some level of savvy. I took the liberty of reading over some of your campaign materials yesterday that your father had here at the house, and I think you've got a good balance there between politician and focusing on what makes you both common and unique."

"That's where Minxia is my ace," Thrakos smiled, looking fondly at his wife. "My beautiful, talented wife, adored by all for her passionate protection of Creta's historical treasures, and mother of my adorable, well-behaved children."

"They haven't referred to me as a foreigner in the news in five years," Minxia commented, though she smiled at the flattery. "Not since I saved the ruins of ancient Taralos from developers who wanted to turn the entire island into a casino resort and rental cabins."

Sara grinned. "So now you're just a hometown hero. What did they end up doing with the island instead?"

"The government funded a dig and restoration that found several billion lyren in artifacts, mosaics, and previously lost history embedded in the walls. In a few years they're going to open it up to carefully curated guided tours. You can see it already if you're willing to pay out the nose, so while it's not open to the full public yet, they've had a lot of very generous donors who want their names associated with the project."

Franz remembered hearing about that, though he had to admit, as busy as life had been, he had missed that particular bit of brilliance on Minxia's part—heard about it but hadn't paid enough attention—that had happened right before hostilities had broken out in Drachma. He was fairly certain she had mentioned it while she and Thrakos were in Central. "That's fantastic." Both the saving of the site, and the fact that the Cretan public—and certainly public opinion—had accepted her as something other than an interloper. "I take it none of that has resurfaced since the campaign started?"

"It was only mentioned in one article," Thrakos answered calmly. "But they admitted that her family ties could only be considered a possible benefit politically, and mostly focused on her work, and mine, in regards to preserving Creta's history. Which helps temper the fact that a lot of my policy suggestions are more progressive, at least compared to what's currently being bandied about in government."

"They haven't made much of a point of the children either," Minxia added in. "Mostly because when they nosed about the school and a few political associates who've met them, and asked questions about them, all they got was glowing reports about their behavior and good grades." The last had a definite note of pride, and Franz wouldn't blame either of them for that. Having met Damien and Irisa, he definitely couldn't consider them troublemakers of any sort. They were still children, with all the growing pains that came with being their ages, but they were well-mannered ones.

"Do they understand what's going on?" Sara asked curiously.

"We've explained it to them as best we can," Minxia nodded. "They know, especially Damien, what the Cretan President does as a government official. They covered it in school and, up until recently of course, that was Grandpa's job." She smiled. "They also understand that it means we will be spending more time in the capitol, especially Thrakos."

"Your family already has a second home there." Sara's statement was not a question. "The one your grandfather lived in."

"That's right. We still own it," Thrakos nodded. "So that's where we'd be living. It's also very close to the secondary campus for the children's school. It won't be exactly the same, but they've been assured that we'll be back to visit their friends here regularly, and if they wish to, when they're a little older, they can choose where they want to spend time, presuming I'm in office that long. Of course, they'll probably end up at Chalas eventually," he added with a cheeky grin. "Then who knows what sorts of adventures they may get up to. Though that depends on their interests."

"What's important is they understand that it will mean some changes in our lives, and living in more than one place." Minxia's expression turned a little wistful. "Though if Thrakos wins, we'll probably sell the apartment. There's no reason to maintain it when we have the family estate available when we're here."

"And how are you feeling about this?" Sara got right to the point, as always, looking at Minxia. "I know you're for it, and you've both agreed to do this, and you wouldn't have agreed if you had any real doubts or concerns…so that's not what I mean."

"How do I feel about possibly being the President's wife and having to be properly behaved in public, you mean?" Minxia asked, grinning broadly. "Despite familial opinion—especially my parents—I am perfectly capable of international diplomatic levels of decorum. This also does not, in fact, require me to give up championing my causes. After all, they're the whole reason I'm here."

"Hey!" Thrakos exclaimed, though the look of hurt on his face was obviously feigned.

Minxia reached up and gave his cheek a playful pat. "And of course, there's you, my faithful assistant."

"Your very bedraggled assistant you've dragged all over the continent and wheedled into desk jobs to help get your pet projects through government," Thrakos teased.

Franz wondered if he and Sara had ever been like this in public. He didn't think so. "Will it limit your travel?"

"No more than having children and working more at the museum." Minxia shrugged. "They understand that I may be working more… remotely, for a time. It will change the nature of some of what I'm doing, but seeing as before Damien started school, we were all over at different sites all the time, it's not like I was always in one place to begin with. In fact, it will put me in the perfect position to see about encouraging new donors." At that, her smile turned a little smug; a distinctly Elric expression.

"She's always got a way to make things work in her favor." Thrakos smiled indulgently. But then, he knew the woman he had married. "On another matter," Thrakos turned the conversation a little. "I have a friend in the government who's trying to get Callius to agree to additional negotiations, or at least a meeting, with Amestris to see about getting those agreements signed. They're in the same party, but he agrees with me that it's in the best interest of Creta if we agree to the terms approved by the rest of the Continent."

"What do you need from us?" Sara asked intently.

"Anything you can tell me that I can pass on that might convince Callius we need this, and that Amestris is not to blame for what this Arsenic group is doing. Beyond that… what we have to do to be successful in mending this tie with Amestris, whether that's what we need to make sure happens, or what negotiations or alterations they might consent to in the name of getting this accord mended. Creta cannot afford to be at odds with its neighboring countries, and now we're dealing with a new situation, and a new President on both sides, even though their authorities are different. From what Minxia has told me, and what little I do know of Closson from our conversations during our last visit to Central, what worked with Anastas, and what worked with you, may be very different."

Franz nodded. That was a fair enough assessment, and obviously they were both working towards the same thing, which was also what Tore wanted: the updated trade and border agreements with Creta. "We may need more to drink," he said as he acquiesced. "That's a much longer conversation."