"...Sir..." he tried, beginning to compose himself again. "Don't you think...ah...that this isn't very professional of either of us?"
She laughs to see the grand scholar on his stomach on the floor of the living room, reading his sons a fairy tale from a fat little book.
Roy was enchanted by the sound of her voice, pure like dewdrops in the morning.
A pure and virtuous soul was nothing short of surprising.
Somehow, this volunteer assignment wasn't starting out exactly the way she'd hoped it would.
Her lover could have been anyone; Edward or Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Ling Yao.
She had heard all the lines before. Pinako was a female in a mostly male line of work, after all.
"If I do not, I might begin to love you, whom I should hate."
All he had to do was snap his fingers. Again. Again in this endless night of terror.
Roy could order her to stay home and rest, but he couldn't keep her from cleaning.
The sheer naughtiness of it all was unexpectedly exciting, and she found herself trembling even before the cold steel met her skin.
Winry had never gotten to appreciate the leather pants in her current position as the person who got to unzip them.
There was a lot to be said for experimentation, Ed thought later, when Al was curled up in his arms as Winry fussed in the bathroom.
As much as he loved his family, Alphonse Elric wouldn't have traded these moments alone for anything.
Right. He saw their little game. They wanted to freak him out, break his mind into little pieces. He could resist.
“You just need to make it clear to him that he may have an opinion on the matter, but in the end, you’re the one who’s going to be doing all the work. Roy and I had that discussion months ago, and he’s been very cooperative ever since.”
From saint to sinner, from mother to whoreâ€¦ She was far more beautiful in death than she'd ever been in life.
The resemblance to the first set was so uncanny that had he not known better, Ling would have assumed she was a twin.
Really, who said that a woman's sex life had to end at 60? An experienced woman had a lot to offer, and Pinako was quite, quite experienced.
Roy Mustang often looked back on his wedding night, recalling what he had thought about his subordinates; even now, they were his family, his safety, his friends.
There were faces more beautiful, and figures more perfect--he saw them all the time. But none had whatever it was that made him ache for her.
When he comes to, the blue light of the alchemical reaction is fading, and the air is thick with smoke.
A small smile crept along her face--this visage made for mischief--and her tell-tale purple eyes narrowed.
She laughs readily, but no one else, he's sure, has ever seen the double-takes with which she greets his successful deadpan strikes.
Like a sudden flashback to younger years, both Hawkeye and Havoc realized that this was as good a time as any to experiment.
"Fuhrer my ass," Edward said. "He's still nothing but a perverted old man."
So soft... so completely squeezable. It would take work to make this decadent man hard.
What the hell was he going to say when Ed and Winry asked him if he met any nice girls in Xing?
She clung to him so tightly that his skin was white under her fingertips.
There was no need to go rushing off into anything now that he had his flesh and memories back and life was becoming a living experience.
Fullmetal was starting to turn slightly purple, now, which definitely clashed with his coloring...
"You should know better than to behave that way, Envy," said a voice against his ear, and he felt the warmth of breath as it feathered over the side of his face.
Of all the castle's "guests," Roy was the only one not allowed to leave. Ever.
Pillow talk, with the Fullmetal Alchemist, was shop talk.
Winry had been confused by the birthday present she received from Gracia, this year.
Smug, he'd stayed just long enough to give his report and then had marched straight off to Resembool with Al lagging behind.
Her original name had been Mary, like the mother of Jesus, and Hohenheim had found that noteworthy; something to comment on, if only in passing.
It was as if there was an invisible box Edward carried with him, keeping a careful several inches between him and the rest of the world at all times.
All the alchemical skill in the world didn't matter, he was learning, when it came to something like this.
He's been after her since the day they met. He'd been a newly-made Major and, at the time, the youngest State Alchemist ever. She'd been a Colonel going on Brigadier General.
The smart thing to do would be to cut and run, but somehow that just didn't seem manly. And Ed was not going to look like a girl in front of this creep.
A hand was extended, and he finally, finally took it, even if he didn't use it to pull himself up.
They could profane the inner sanctum; it would be a perfect cat burglary. Her father would never know a thing.
"Apparently their mother never cautioned them to stay away from strangers with cars."
Roy Mustang still doesn't entirely understand First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Perhaps he never will.
They kissed only once. She tasted like ashes and brine.
When the lines didn't matter, when the lungs weren't working in labor of sweet industry worlds, then it was so easy to see where they might be all born of the same blood.