Only some things, he knew, could be repaired. Not every broken sword could be re-forged.
It does not occur to him until later — years later — that this might be considered a case of sexual abuse.
While the Chief practices his best vengeful face and looks up the recipe for a fake corpse in some freaky alchemy cookbook, Breda and the rest of Team Mustang get to deal with the really annoying bits of this operation.
"Honestly, Fullmetal, I'm beginning to think that you're more trouble than you're worth."
Itís February in Central. Thereís nothing better to do.
Roy was silent when Maes came back several minutes later. If he heard the sounds of retching from the bathroom, he didn't say.
"You're late," Ed tells him flatly. "You should have been here one minute and forty four seconds ago."
An alchemical reaction of the most ancient kind: sitting down to eat as though filling the stomach could replace the gap in one's heart.
One day Edward was out kicking the crap out of those damn Homunculus with Al...
"You paid for him to have sex?" Mustang says incredulously, putting his pen down on the table top and shoving the form away. "You bought him a prostitute?"
Could I burn like that - would the lick of flames on my skin wipe me clean?
ROY: [calmly] If drinking means acting like an idiot the way you are, I'm going to pass.
"Well... Brother does that, every so often. He really should think before he tries to attack people."
"You finally took my advice and settled down! Not quite what I had in mind, of course, but I'm so happy for you!"
This wasn't really what he'd been expecting from surreptitious wartime sex. He'd thought it would be some kind of quickie round the back of the latrines.
"Tall girls need not apply," Hughes read aloud, without even the trace of a smirk.
rated:K | M+F S+S | Fullmetal | mid-series | First Place, Het & Non-Het | Green Lion Winner | Riza Hawkeye | Roy Mustang | angst | humor | sweet | Elric Kyoudai | 354th FG HQ | 2004 First Kiss, Non-Het
You don't want to see spicy photos of my gorgeous girlfriend?
"I know how things work, sir," the boy continued, laying the watch across his lap.
Roy was enchanted by the sound of her voice, pure like dewdrops in the morning.
According to Hughes, Major Mustang was close to promotion and as his subordinate, it was her prerogative to try and help him to reach the next rung of the ladder.
It was so terribly painful, really, the way he would smile when he was about to cry.
They could profane the inner sanctum; it would be a perfect cat burglary. Her father would never know a thing.
Once you promised me that you would dance on my grave. I'm keeping you to that promise, you know.
Today I saw the god of fire, Roy writes in his notebook, knowing he will never be believed.
Around when the hour of nine rolls up to the door, fat as a bellied barfly, Roy has already taken his jacket off the hook and has gone outside to walk.
Even so, you still are a manipulative bastard.
He hadn't asked Hughes to follow him to this place.
"So, we're one gunshot from a civil war. If someone from Hakuro's faction fired that shot, for whatever reason ..."
rated:K-L-V | M+F S+S | Mangaverse | post-series | SP: ch 1-108 | DF: ch 105 | Alphonse Elric | Edward Elric | Roy Mustang | mystery | 354th FG HQ | UST | 2010 Best New Voices, Neophyte | Havoc/Rebecca
Impress, they had told him. Make us see why we should choose you as one of our own.
The staff look at each other, look at their automail bottle-opener, and prepare to duck.
Ed opened his mouth, and then closed it. "Visibility is that important to you, huh?" he said.
He decided, then, quite firmly, that he wasn't ever going to drink coffee again, with anybody. It was too risky.
Ed did not want to die without seeing Alphonse again.
He just carries himself with a certain atmosphere, one that feels like splinters of buildings falling off walls and landing broken or the smell of roasted flesh.
He doesn't look anything like Roy, and she's not sure if that's good or bad.
It wasn't easy to imagine how he had been mistaken, because Al could swear that even from a distance, a hanged man looked very different from a tent post.
He has seen the desert. Seen her scorched and scarred beneath his steady hands. Stepped in her tattered remains, tasted her ashes with every breath.
This really was turning out to be a day of surprises, thought Roy.
He recalled lifting it cautiously up to his nose, and then back away from the stinging, spicy herbs along with the smouldering scent of tobacco.
"When I walked in on you in the bath, Edward, I wasn't expecting Al to be there too."
PR, we need PR, he kept telling himself, but at this point he didn't think he could string more than two sentences together.
He remembered finding himself asking why the Fullmetal Alchemist would be the one to patch his own clothes.
And there was a certain look they shared, the one they both used when they thought Ed was being unreasonably stubborn.
...The world is saved. You two can just gnaw on each other for the rest of your lives.
"You'll be up against the wall before you know it, Mustang, right where you belong, eating the bullets of a firing squad for breakfast."
"When you put it that way--" Roy conceded. "But it does seem improbable. You promised me a murderer, but are you so sure that it was no accident?"
He even dragged out his Best Manners for the occasion, the ones his mother had taught him so long ago.