And still, the notifications haven't been fixed...

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A couple of jumps in this chapter - let me know if they were confusing or smooth enough :)

Enjoy!

Chapter 34 - Day 337

The lights were on downstairs, the curtains drawn. He must have seen her anyway, maybe heard her crunch through the snow. The storm on the weekend had finally calmed, but icy-white wetness still reached her knees, soaked her trousers. Rebecca refused to wear her utterly unstylish military boots in private. She had an image to uphold.

The door opened. Hayate stood at the top of the stairs in Roy's back, ears perked up but keeping quiet. The first clue. He whined gladly when recognising Rebecca. He didn't come to greet her though – that was the second clue. Quiet, protective.

Riza… Rebecca's eyes strained to glance past Roy but there was no going around him: the third and final clue.

It was well past eight at night, the weather was horrible, and he must have been deadly tired or grotesquely sick to have missed out on that Monday meeting about General Sherman's latest slip-up. Yet here Roy was, welcoming her inside. Closing the door, he grabbed a cup of tea and a plate with grapes, cheese cubes and tiny pretzels.

His eyes were like the sun. That was how Rebecca knew. It was really quite amazing, scary almost. You could hit him with a shovel in the face and his smile would still flatten you with its brightness, roll you over with endorphins. He jerked his head towards the stairs.

Rebecca slipped out of her drenched shoes, eager to follow. Minding the infamously creaking third step, she had to hurry. Roy wasn't waiting up. He was already past guardian Hayate, the door to the bedroom left ajar. It was dark inside, the light from downstairs drawing shadows up the wall and ceiling, outlining the bed. Outlining the bundle under the sheets.

Rebecca's heart took off, seemingly into multiple directions all at once.

Riza was curled up on her side. In front of her, she held her newborn, so close they were practically inhaling one another. One day old, two at the most. A head of dark hair cupped securely, warm and loved, the baby slept, undisturbed by Roy entering. He set down the snacks and tea. Kicking at a pile of laundry that hadn't made it to the hamper yet, he made for his side of the bed.

Riza stirred when he quietly soothed Sally who was wary of Rebecca.

Roy slid across the mattress. It only made Riza curl up more tightly, shortly squeezing her baby to herself, nosing the plump face, kissing it, finally nestling it against her chest to look up at Roy.

He glowed. "Tea is served." Leaning down, he kissed the baby's, then Riza's crown.

He must have either forgotten about Rebecca's presence or not cared anymore. The latter, she assumed. And she understood wholeheartedly. She hadn't even seen it in proper light, felt untampered baby skin, smelled or held it, and yet, something stirred inside her like a primal instinct; a need to nurture and protect it. Like bile‑less envy, the feeling crept from her stomach and heart into her brain, swelled past practical thinking with motherly hormones.

"You just want me having to go to the bathroom and let go," Riza mumbled.

Roy's sunshine was streaked with mischievous twinkling. Perhaps it was the saturated darkness of his irises, the light catching in them, but when they regarded Riza and the baby, they seemed sparkle like a diamond cut to perfection. "After nine months, I thought you'd be happy if I overtook… at all."

Riza smiled. "I thought so too." Her gaze wandered to the baby.

"That's a 'no'?"

"It's a 'not yet'." She kept smiling. She was generally all smiles, more than Rebecca had ever seen. "How has she been such a burden— Why did it cost so many tears and suffering when this…"

She? Rebecca's ears tingled.

She held her breath alongside the couple when the baby laboured to move its head. Roy supported it, guided it down where Riza freed her breast. Rhythmic, almost apolaustic suckling thrummed in Rebecca's ears with each smack, good and proper.

"This is the ultimate…" Riza couldn't seem to find the words.

Roy smiled. "There's no going back now."

"No, it's not that." She regarded the baby, traced down an avidly moving cheek. "There's a need in winter for the weather to be warm, but when it's finally summer you want it to cool down."

"Nothing is perfect."

"This is," she breathed. "This is everything I dreamed it would be. I didn't think I would; I still don't quite believe myself but I love her so much." Riza frowned, blinking the itch from her eyes. "I feel like… I could lift the world onto my back."

"Half the world." Roy traced his thumb over her eye, then over the other, and she dropped her cheek into his palm.

"Thank you, Roy."

"You don't have to thank me. You did most of the work," he chuckled.

She only sniffled, sighed shakily. "Thank you. I don't deserve this."

"You earned it over nine months," he said. He knew what she meant though. He had been expecting it, of course, because he himself was constantly ridden with guilt of Ishval.

To his surprise, she had already dropped the topic. Nursing was sending all sorts of hormones through her body, and her tears, too, eased lingering tensions. "I don't ever want her to be unhappy."

Roy's smile returned. "It's part of the journey," he reasoned.

Riza made a querulous noise. "Why are you being the realistic one?"

"I'm surprised too that you aren't," he laughed softly. "Frankly, it's adorable."

She let him cradle the baby closer to him then when it had ceased eating, falling onto her back. With her hand, Riza covered her eyes, rubbing them when fresh tears threatened to come. "It was worth it. It was really worth it."

Roy took her free hand. He chuckled – hoarse but bubbly – sliding his arm around her. Riza readily complied, hoisting herself up just enough to fall into his embrace.

"There's someone here to see you," he murmured.

"Don't let him on the bed; he will lick her ears again."

Roy opened his mouth to correct her assumption, when instead, his brows rose. Riza loosened her grip on his back, sinking down and away.

"How about I take care of the nappy." His voice cringed as if that way, he could somehow retract himself from the rising smell. "It's the only time you'll let go…" he grumbled. "So that you can greet your guest." He scooted off the bed.

Riza sat up carefully, rubbing her eyes. She interrupted stretching her arms when noticing Rebecca in the doorway. Rebecca was busy though, spying at the darling in the terrycloth, listening to the coos and jesting scolds she would have never believed Roy Mustang of all people capable of producing where he disappeared in the bathroom.

"Rebecca," Riza croaked. She cleared her throat, fetching her tea.

"First you get preggers without telling me and now this?" Rebecca hardly waited for Riza to return the tea to the nightstand, hugging her tightly. "Girl, I was dying to be of help."

"You did help me before, a lot. You brought me so many fabrics," Riza argued. "Some of which have already been ruined… If you ever have a baby, don't dress it in something nice right away. Or ever."

"Noted." Rebecca crossed her arms. There was that flutter in her gut again she tried hard to suppress. At least for now. "I could have helped you though. Don't tell me an alchemist can deliver a baby in snap."

"He can't. If he could, I wouldn't have wept like a Private at her first joint drills for fifty-one hours."

"Fifty-one hours?!"

"The birth alone took five. It wasn't normal. But I get it now." Riza popped a grape into her mouth. "It's not called delivery because I drop a baby like parcel. It's called delivery because it delivers me from death throes. I will have to stand up like this for quite a while." She lied on her back again. Propping up her legs slowly, the tilted them until she was falling onto her side. The corner of her mouth twitched, and her jaw locked when she let her legs dangle over the side of the bed, finally pushing herself up to sit.

Rebecca hadn't noticed the strategic prudence the first time when Riza had sat up, but she noticed the zaps of pain and the fact that despite announcing it, Riza didn't stand.

She plucked another grape from the bunch. "Now I'm not only out of shape, I gained weight, haven't recovered that litre of blood I lost during birth, and walk like stork with a handicap. I am officially the worst bodyguard in existence."

"You're not honestly concerned about being a bodyguard right now, are you?" Rebecca gave her a look. And swiped a piece of cheese.

"I'm concerned about the fact that you could knock me over with a moderate sneeze."

"Oh, come on, give yourself a break." Rebecca flopped down next to Riza. She needed another hug and apparently, Riza felt the same way. Her hugs were as strong as ever, needy, happy. Almost as joyful as the string of currs and gurling with which her husband was entertaining the baby in the bathroom. Rebecca quirked a brow.

"He's wonderful," Riza sighed. "He's encouraging and patient."

"He's there?"

The look on Riza's face stayed with Rebecca even now that she stood before the empty bed. Only a few things were missing, then they would be off to Central. That Monday night, Riza might have grasped Rebecca's implication and promptly forgotten, or perhaps she had merely been confused.

Her actions proved Rebecca right though. Whenever Roy handled something heavy to carry into the removals van, Riza would hold Reign back to chest, enabling them both to watch Roy. Watch the father who was present, who took part in family life, who didn't ignore or neglect his daughter. No, Rebecca thought, Riza wasn't aware of what she was doing, squashing painful memories of her childhood under a thick hide of drinking in any and all interactions between Roy and Reign.

Reign on the other hand seemed fully aware of her advantage. She squirmed and thrashed as soon as she was even remotely separated from either of her parents. Roy was indefinitely pleased with Reign responding to him almost as much as to Riza. Occasionally overcoming his possessiveness, he would hand Reign to Rebecca or Jean or one of his sisters (were they really all his sisters?) for some trivial transmutation. Any normal person could have handled the problem with a little more time, but Roy was on a mission.

Not a full minute went by until Reign started to fuss. Returning to the arms of her father bloated his ego and stilled her cries – a win-win situation. Until she would grow older, but Rebecca kept her concerns to herself for now.

No, she wouldn't alert them just yet. Those sparse forty seconds of holding the baby for Roy's little game – it sent her stomach spiralling and her heart leaping. In the privacy of the vacant bedroom, Rebecca caught herself sniffing her hands for the sweet remains of baby powder.

The empty, stripped bed beckoned the memory of Riza cuddling Reign shortly after birth, so Rebecca tried to focus hard on something else, anything else. A single box was left in the corner. She scrutinised its contents – a few ties, Roy's fashionable scarves, gloves, something that looked like a curtain but turned out to be lacy lingerie. From the wall, she unpinned a cut-out newspaper article.

The Central Times – sent to the east by courtesy of his Excellency Fuhrer Grumman. The Next in Line – Amestris' top pick surprised no one, the headline read. A semi-representative popularity poll, initiated by the very radio channel that had broadcasted the coup d'état. Roy had won by a landslide.

The news about him breaking fraternisation law was not yet publicly known.

He had worked furiously on training routines for the south, written letters to Emperor Ling Yao of Xing, mapped out infrastructure for Ishval – all from home. He hadn't set a single foot into Headquarters in nearly two months, yet he was summoned to Central for a promotion. Alchemy advances, the military reasoned. Rebecca had her own ideas.

It hardly mattered – the merrier Grumman handed out his approval, the easier it would be on Riza and Reign. Roy was needed, perhaps more at home than in the far corners of his country. Reign was morphing into a spoilt brat, but Riza had developed a clinginess strong enough to surface even with others around.

Rebecca could hear her downstairs, gently monologuing to Reign. 'Papa' fell from her lips. Instead of Roy's, it summoned Jean's face before Rebecca's mind's eye.

He was being just as much of a dork. In his support for Riza, unable to help with most things since they needed only the mother, he had adopted a new tradition: every two to three hours, he would drop down and do push-ups. He didn't do them for as long as it took Riza to nurse Reign, but he claimed it gave him a greater sense of appreciation; made him aware of just how much work she was doing while missing out on work.

There too, at work, he did his push-ups. Heymans and Kain had gotten used to it, observing from their desks.

Rebecca could hear the two downstairs as well, Heymans praising Reign for no particular reason. Kain was busy spending time with Sally, intent to make her love him as Hayate did.

Everyone had been busy for days with packing up. Today, for hours and hours, they had been caravaning from one flat to the next, cramping furniture and cardboard boxes into vans.

Heymans had been first, surprised them with minimalism. Then Kain, who had forgotten to label his boxes, everyone opening them up, passing sharpies around and scribbling with a mixture of all of their handwritings. For Jean and Rebecca, they had split up to get the boxes from each apartment; cover more ground. They even had a few guards with them – Grumman's instructions for his new 'invaluable assets', as he called Roy's team.

Since the coup, Rebecca was on first name basis with everyone except for Roy. It would be strange to stick to ranks within the office again. It would also be strange to unpack her boxes right next to Jean's, in the same flat they would share in Central. A good strange, that was.

Roy's house was the last station. The furniture stayed for trips to Eastern Headquarters and because Grumman insisted they move into the Fuhrer's estate. Choose a wing close to the main dining room – his dining room – he had laughed.

So many things to do, so many changes coming their way. Rebecca was elated to be a part of it; of the future they would build for the entire nation. Her insides stirred again, but she knew it wasn't the awaiting adventure, not entirely.

The days had been long indeed, the small break in the silent bedroom almost surreal. A moment to allow that throbbing of her heart for a different slice of the life ahead. Perhaps now would be a good moment to bring it up. Subtly. Jean was fantastic with Reign, and anyway, Rebecca couldn't imagine someone else by her side anymore.

For months, she had been dwelling on herself becoming sick and Jean caring for her like he had for Riza. He was the catch of the century. Kind, considerate, goddamn sexy. He didn't shy away from working hard, he had a great sense of humour. The last thing she should do now was scare him off. She could propose, nonchalantly, that maybe he would like to play with the idea of their own baby, someday. Yes, someday only. Strip the notion of its commitment.

"And in the land of dreams, the foxy princess found her cavalier, fanciable, courageous…"

"I wasn't sleeping!" Rebecca snapped, slapping Jean's arm with the cut-out article. How long had she been standing there?

He grinned, still in his T‑Rex sneaking pose, arms comically drawn against himself, fingers forming claws.

"And that cavalier better be fanciable and fertile—" She clasped a hand over her mouth. Too direct! Stupid, stupid! Her cheeks burned. She hadn't heard him coming. She didn't like to be flustered; caught off guard, so the words had raced ahead without her consent.

Rebecca yelped when Jean swept her off her feet, into the air, around and around, laughing, laughing until she was laughing, not knowing why. Nervous sweat chilled her nape, her cheeks a stark contrast of ruddy heat.

"Are you kidding me?"

Shit. Well, at least he thought it was a joke. It hurt, but it was better than immediate breakup.

"I'd marry you tomorrow if that's a promise." He set her down.

Rebecca's mouth opened and shut uselessly. "What?"

"I mean, no, metaphorically. My family will be quite upset if it's on such short notice – they'll all want to come and Gran-Gran takes forever to even warm up to the idea of leaving the house and you're not as enthusiastic about this as I thought. Sorry." He retracted his hands from her waist, scratching his arm. "I'm getting carried away. You were kidding, right? Crap, that's embarrassing."

"I wasn't," Rebecca blurted. "I could be," she backpaddled, feeling even more stupid. Her hands came up, grasping at nothing. Her brain was making an equal lack of progress. "But I wasn't," she decided. "I'd just rather have no kid than not have you anymore. If that makes sense."

"I'd like both," he offered with an awkwardly relieved sigh. "Sometime."

"Yeah, sometime, not— not now."

"Not now," he agreed. He was as red as her at this point, gazes searching the cleared-out room for distraction. Both found the popularity poll on the floor. "First this."

"First this." Rebecca nodded. The knot had untangled in the pit of her stomach, replaced with a warm buzz.

The removals van honked. Havoc grabbed the article and last box while Rebecca checked the bathroom and nursery one last time. They hadn't dismantled the crib. It felt strange to leave it, but Grumman was said to be in a shopping frenzy, ordering bespoke beds and rocking chairs for his deified great-granddaughter.

"And what did I say?"

Rebecca followed Riza's mellow tone into the kitchen.

"He forgot the tickets." She helped Reign turn her head, picking up the train tickets before replacing them onto the counter. It would have been a cakewalk to bring them herself, but Riza was lying in wait. Preying upon her husband coming in to fetch the tickets, for Reign to see him.

His voice reached them first. "It's been a while. Come to return the money you borrowed?"

"If your lazy arse had made it onto the throne, maybe I would." Edward trudged after Roy into the house. "What's all this? It took us forever to track down your new address and now you're moving again?"

"Should I be concerned about the time you spend on searching for my house?" Roy narrowed his eyes. He was by the door of the kitchen, hands pushed into his pockets.

Rebecca stole a glance at her best friend. Riza was distracted by Edward's visit, but it didn't snuff out the light flashing in her eyes, keening for Roy's attention on Reign. On herself too, but she was better at hiding that.

"We've been transferred to Central."

Edward remained quiet for a moment, pondering. Remembering the last time, the hostage situation, no doubt. "Too bad. Will cost you more to go all the way out to the east then, but I'm sure your fancy bum can afford it."

"What Edward is trying to say—" Winry was nudging Ed, hard enough to shove him into view. He had grown. It explained Roy's sour face – there wasn't much left and the once tiny bean would tower his former superior officer.

Any and all coherent thoughts dried up, sizzling like a snail on salt when their eyes fell to Reign.

"L-Lieutenant…"

"Captain." Winry prodded Ed again. He didn't react. His gaze drilled into the black hair in front of him. "Riza," Winry then came forward, "it's good to see you." Her voice came strangled, unsure.

"It's good to see you too." Riza lifted Reign and Roy complied at once, cradling her against himself – coolly, with one arm – for Riza to properly hug Winry. "I'm glad we didn't miss each other. I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't offer you anything." She looked around the empty kitchen.

The van honked again outside. Jean went to talk to the driver.

Edward didn't so much talk as he yelled. "You have a baby!?" He pointed at Roy accusingly. "With him?! Why?"

"Edward!" Winry chided.

Roy growled at Ed, but said nothing. His chin was raised, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Winry took Riza's hands. "We came here to personally invite you to our wedding in spring."

"You, not him," Ed fumed.

"Yes, him too. Honestly." She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head in disappointment. Giving him a look enabled her to stare at Reign again, her eyes refusing to leave, sparkling curiously.

Roy's smirk broadened. "Would you like to hold her?"

Winry squeaked. Her arms sprang out eagerly.

Rebecca wanted to roll her eyes. There he went again…

Riza stood next to Winry, soothing upcoming protests of her daughter with her presence. Winry's breathing had flattened, eyes big, cheeks flushed. She asked for Reign's name, her age, if she already liked to play. Edward finally addressed the elephant in the room, and Riza explained briefly how everything had come to be, about Ishval, about Grumman's relation to her.

"So you're not being transferred for merit, but because you married the Fuhrer's kin? That's a new low, even for you."

"Your petty insults will get you nowhere, Fullmetal. It's painfully obvious that you're jealous how I'm ahead of you – as always."

"I'm not jealous! I don't even want a—" Edward's lips crinkled. He glanced at Reign, blushing. Winry met his gaze. His lips pursed further, as if having bitten into a lemon, regret drowning his outburst. "You know, not yet or anything, I don't know…" He crossed his arms tightly.

Rebecca laughed. She and Riza congratulated the couple on their engagement, and being Jean's girlfriend – and eager to catch the bouquet, now that he had brought up marriage – Rebecca was invited alongside him.

While instructing the removals vans, going to the station with Edward and Winry for coffee, and then now their private compartment of the train, Rebecca kept on thinking about marriage. With Grumman as generous and dictating as he was, she was certain he would want a say about Roy and Riza's wedding. He wouldn't allow them to exchange rings in private like they had, he would want to be there, probably bloat the event to a pompous party, show off his granddaughter, great-granddaughter and successor.

He would want to plan the wedding and Rebecca would be there when he did. She wouldn't let him get away with it by himself; she had waited to plan Riza's wedding since cadet days. She knew Riza better than the old coot anyway – it was time to prove to him just how invaluable she was.

On the bench across from her, Reign had hardly dropped Riza's breast when her eyes fell shut. Nestled comfortably in her mother's arm, her father holding said arm in a fond embrace, she drifted off in no time. Her parents had already lost the battle.