Waiting: Mother Arc: Chapter 6

"Sorry for calling so early, but we're going to be leaving just after breakfast, I hope I didn't catch you eating. . . .You shouldn't bolt your food, you know that's not good for you! . . . How was your class trip to the museum? . . . Mm. . . ."

Hearing Roy talking to Elysia never failed to make Ed smile. The older man had confessed to him that he was never quite sure how to act around children, and yet he made a point of calling the Hughes' household every week or two to catch up with both Gracia and Elysia. Ed knew that his lover had started the phone calls from a sense of obligation, but listening to him gently tease the eight-year-old about one of the boys in her class made him think that there was something more behind it now.

He snickered at Roy's suggestion that if Elysia was getting that popular, maybe he should arrange for an armed escort—Hughes would have agreed with that—and turned back to the conversation in front of him, which was on the omelets they were cooking. Winry thought the different ingredients should be measured to ensure proper flavor balance—whatever that meant—while Al was more of a mind to throw everything into the skillet until it looked right. Ed didn't care as long as the damn things got cooked, but he was having fun antagonizing them both.

The omelet argument was cut short, however, when Winry was called to the phone.

"Hi Elysia-chan! . . . Really? Oh, I can't wait to see that, you'll have to show me tomorrow. . . . Uh-huh . . . at eight, I hope that's not too late for you, you'll probably be in bed. . . . I hope not, it's a school night! . . . Really? Oh, lucky, we can stay up then! . . ."

"Elysia's school has Monday off," Roy explained as he pulled plates from the cabinet and set them on the counter. "One of her classmates invited her to see a show at the park, but of course she wants to make sure Winry-san can come—" He broke off and made a startled noise when Ed suddenly embraced him from behind.

"Nothing," the blond told his shoulder blades as he gave him a squeeze.

* * *

"It looks like a good turnout today."

"Mm. A lot of the soldiers brought their families, as I was hoping."

Yu nodded as they watched the crowd gather, trying to keep her expression even. She knew Roy was watching her, even if he didn't appear to be. Her son had always been remarkably perceptive, and she wasn't ready to explain what was on her mind. She couldn't just come out and say "Sweetie, did you murder someone?"

"By the way, where is Edward?" she said instead. She'd seen Alphonse a moment ago when he'd introduced a friend of his, a pretty young woman named Winry, but she had yet to see the elder boy.

"Ah. He's been . . . appropriated." Roy nodded over to the far side of the courtyard, a small smile on his face.

Yu followed his gaze and finally spotted the young man. He was just straightening after hitching a little girl of about five or six onto his back while a boy a few years older tugged on his sleeve.

"They're Allensworth's children," Roy was explaining. "We ran into them out front."

"I see." She smiled as Edward and the boy got into some brief roughhousing which ended with the boy in a headlock, while the girl cheered them on from her perch on the blond's back. Yu had the uncharitable thought that this was a much more appropriate place for her son's . . . she still hadn't found a good term.

"General Johansen! Hello! Good to see you again."

They both looked over at Alphonse's comment. "Johansen? Dad's old C.O.?"

Yu nodded. "He stopped by yesterday around noon. Didn't I mention it?"

He gave her a flat look. "No, Mother. You didn't."

"Must have slipped my mind."

"Eh?" Charles Johansen was giving the boy a polite but confused look. "I'm sorry, young man. You . . .?"

Alphonse grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "No, I'm sorry, of course you don't recognize me. The last time we met I was still in the armor."

"Fullmetal's kid brother! Of course. Alphonse, isn't it? You're . . . actually . . . a lot smaller than I thought. . . ."

The boy nodded, laughing. "Yeah, I know."

"I wouldn't exactly say you look like your brother, but I can tell you're related. He's around here somewhere, isn't he?"

Winry snorted. "Good luck spotting him, he's easy to lose in a crowd now that he doesn't wear his red coat."

"Winry, be nice. Nii-san is over there with Warrant Officer Allensworth and her family."

The large man laughed and tugged Alphonse's hood over his head. "Seems to me his old red coat didn't go very far. What happened, did you steal it while he was away?"

"Something like that," the boy laughed, pushing the hood back from his face. "This one was never actually his. The old one he left behind was pretty worn; Nii-san used to go through clothes pretty quickly, after all."

"I doubt Fullmetal's old coat would still fit you, Alphonse," Roy commented as he and Yu joined them. He smiled and gave the older man a salute. "General Johansen."

"Well well, look at you, Brigadier General Mustang. Your father would be proud of you, Roy."

"Thank you, sir."

Yu smiled at the thought, despite her worry about what her son may or may not be guilty of. His father would be proud; she was sure of that.

"Hey, lookit," Winry said, pointing. "I wonder what happened."

Whatever it was had Allensworth's son very agitated. He seemed to be apologizing to Edward, who was looking down at something in his hands. Alphonse and Winry started across the courtyard, and the rest of them followed out of curiosity.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm—"

"—Oi." Edward bumped the top of the boy's head with the side of his fist. "S'not like you meant for them to fall out of my pocket."

"He still stepped on them," the little girl pointed out from behind Edward's arm.

"Susan, that's enough." Warrant Officer Allensworth put a hand on her daughter's head to quiet her. "Edward-san, we'll pay to replace them, of course—"

"Don't be silly, it was an accident."

"Still. . . ."

"Can't you fix them, Ed?" Winry asked, leaning over to look at what Yu now saw was a pair of glasses with a cracked lens. "Then it won't be an issue."

"Eh . . . with the prescription, y'know . . . probably better just to replace 'em. . . ."

She gave him a critical look. "What d'you mean, 'probably better to replace them'?"

"Well, y'know. . . ." The young man shifted and scratched the back of his head, "Might change the shape of the lens. . . ."

"Let me see them, Nii-san."

Edward handed the glasses to his brother and Alphonse studied the broken lens carefully. "The glass is cracked, but it doesn't look like any of it has been lost. It should transmute back together without any trouble."

The elder one shrugged and folded his arms. "Well, if you think so. You're welcome to try, I guess."

The younger blond gave him a small frown, then pressed his hands together in a prayer position around the cracked lens.

Blue light flared from between his palms with the distinctive crackle of alchemy and Yu jumped. Where was the array? She hadn't seen any marks on his hands or clothing.

No one else seemed startled, though. Edward simply took the glasses back and tried them on. "Yeah, I think you got it. Thanks, Al."

"That's sure a handy trick," Charles commented. "Must save a lot of money."

"I guess." Edward shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "S'not like alchemy can fix everything, though."

"Nii-san, you remember General Johansen, don't you?"

"Hm?" He blinked up at the large man, then back at his brother, and Alphonse sighed.

"Remember that one alchemist in the western area, with the plants and that machine . . .?" The boy waved his hands, as if that would explain everything.

"You mean the nut with those weird arrays and that," more hand waving, "thing?"

Yu raised an eyebrow at her old friend, but he only shrugged and chuckled. "Don't ask me. I didn't get it the first time around, either."

"You should have seen his reports," Roy commented.

"Oh yeah, now I remember. You're that old guy who was in charge at West headquarters."

"Nii-san!"

The retired general simply laughed and clapped Edward on the shoulder. "I guess everyone looks old when you're fourteen, eh? Good to see you again, though, boy. Looks like you've even grown some."

"Even? What do you mean, 'even'?"

"Nii-san—"

"Of course I've grown, you—mphl—"

Yu prudently backed away while Edward flailed against his brother's restraining arms and Charles attempted to make amends. This just happened to put her close enough to hear when Winry hissed, "Am I going crazy, or did Ed just avoid doing alchemy?"

"Mm," Roy confirmed under his breath. "He's been happy to do research, but I can only think of once, maybe twice over the past year that he's done any physical alchemy."

"You're kidding me!"

"Al has tried to talk to him about it, but. . . ."

The hushed conversation was cut short by the sound of a large transmutation from the far end of the courtyard.

"Hello everyone!" Princess Mei called from the top of the pedestal she'd just created. "Welcome to our little piece of Xing! Please take this opportunity to enjoy some of the fine food from our country. And then after you've eaten we'll give you a practical demonstration of rentan jutsu—the alchemy of Xing! We hope you enjoy it!" With that she knelt and touched the transmutation circle at her feet, and melted the pedestal back into the ground.

After some applause, the crowd migrated over to the food tables. Yu caught site of a uniformed man standing off to one side and directing a rather cold look in their direction, but the man simply turned and joined the crowd around the food.

"Your relationship with tact never ceases to amaze me," she heard Roy remark.

". . . Shit." Edward actually sounded contrite.

"Lucky for you General Johansen has a sense of humor. He's also an old family friend."

"Oh yeah?"

"My father was under his command."

The retired general in question was already at the food, never one to pass up a meal.

Yu took up position near one of the tables to answer questions and help people with food selection. At her suggestion, the names of the dishes were given only in Xingian; she felt this would keep their Amestrian guests from prejudging the food based on the ingredients. Of course, nothing could help prejudging based on the appearance.

"What's . . . that?" Winry's hand hovered skeptically over one of the dishes.

"I dunno, but it's good," Edward assured her. "I've had it before."

"That doesn't tell me much, you used to eat anything that held still long enough."

"Hey, it's not my fault, I was eating for two." The Elrics grinned at each other and Winry rolled her eyes.

At least Yu wasn't the only one giving the trio a confused look, but the three blonds were oblivious to it all as they filled their plates and headed for one of the tables. She caught Roy's eye and raised her eyebrows at him, but he only shook his head, smirking slightly in amusement.

* * *

Roy smiled as he watched his mother teach Allensworth's two children how to properly use chopsticks and tried to ignore the feeling of being watched. He knew if he turned he'd find Marcus some distance down the tables on his blind side, and he didn't want to give the lieutenant the satisfaction of knowing he was making him uneasy.

Over the half year or so that he'd been at East City he'd constantly had the impression that his aide was watching him. Not that the man would have done well in Intelligence; he was hardly subtle about it. Roy was well aware that Marcus disliked him, although he wasn't sure if it was personal or professional, and he got the feeling that the lieutenant was waiting for him to slip up somehow. Roy just wished he knew what the man intended to do with the information.

It put him in mind of an incident, if it could be called that, that had happened not long after his transfer to East.

Something had come up, something that generated a pile of paperwork that needed to be finished before the next day but didn't have the decency to be interesting. Roy had called Ed to inform him that he'd be at work until well into the evening, and that he'd get someone from the motor pool to drive him home.

Forty-five minutes later the door to his office had been unceremoniously kicked open and the short blond had stomped through. It had been so reminiscent of their encounters of years ago that Roy had almost expected a large suit of armor to follow.

"Oi, Colonel Bastard," Fullmetal had said, depositing a bag on top of the desk, heedless of the paperwork. "Didn't make sense to make food just to put it in the icebox, so here."

"The base does have a cafeteria," the older man had said, more than a little amused.

Ed had made a sour face. "I know, I've eaten there. I'm surprised half the base hasn't dropped from food poisoning."

Edward had brought him a cold pasta-and-chicken salad; not anything fancy, but leaps and bounds better than anything he could have gotten from the cafeteria. But that might have been partly because of who had brought it.

As Roy had cleared space on his desk and Ed had dished the food, Lieutenant Marcus had appeared in the doorway, hovering as if torn between going and staying. The brigadier general had looked up in time to catch the . . . unpleasant look his aide was directing toward his lover's thankfully turned back.

"Something you need, Lieutenant?" Most of his staff had already gone home; the extra work wasn't anything they could help with.

". . . No, sir. I thought I might catch up on the filing."

"If you like."

Though he'd spoken to Roy, his attention had been on Edward, the distasteful look on his face poorly concealed.

Once they were done eating, instead of leaving, Edward had flopped down on one of the couches and proceeded to get immersed in a book he'd brought with him. His intent had been obvious and almost enough to make the older alchemist forget decorum and kiss him, an impulse he was glad he squashed when a moment later Marcus had passed by his door, pausing just long enough to flick a glare toward the sprawled blond.

The First Lieutenant had hovered near his office the rest of the evening, nominally filing but always near enough that he would hear or see if something were to happen. Not that anything would; Edward could be as prudish as an old school marm when there were other people around, and Roy wasn't about to do anything that would make his position any shakier than it already was. For the most part, Roy had been able to ignore his aide and simply take comfort in his lover's presence, letting his gaze rest on the golden hair spread over the arm of the couch whenever the tedium of the paperwork had started to get to him.

Much to his surprise and annoyance, however, Marcus had out waited him and the paperwork.

"All right, Fullmetal. I'm done here. Ed?" No response from the blond. "Ed-ward. . . ." Nothing. Feeling punchy after the long evening, Roy had wadded up a piece of scrap paper and tossed it. The missile had sailed by without effect. He'd tried again, and that time the crumpled ball had bounced off the book that was holding the young man captive. Edward had jumped and twisted around to blink at him, his glasses still perched on the top of his head. "Time to go home, Love."

There had been the sound of a folder being dropped in the outer office, which they both ignored.

"Finally," Edward had said, sitting up and stretching. "Were you always this slow with your work? Lazy-ass bastard."

Marcus had been stony-faced and overly formal and proper as they left. He'd acted as if the younger man hadn't been there at all, making a point of looking through the blond as he'd coolly addressed his commanding officer.

"What the fuck's up his ass?" Edward had griped in the car. His grip on the steering wheel had been so tight that Roy had been afraid he might do damage. "Acting like I'm some kind of—of—"

Hooker, Roy had finished mentally. That had been exactly how the lieutenant had been acting. He'd hoped Ed had missed it, but the young man wasn't as oblivious as he used to be.

"Thank you for coming by, Love," the older man had said instead. "That made the evening a lot easier."

"Yeah, well. Didn't make sense to just put the food away for leftovers, that's all."

Despite the dismissive words, Roy hadn't missed the way his lover's hands had relaxed.

Afterwards, Roy had expected his aide's attitude toward him to worsen, but it had stayed mostly the same, cool indifference that bordered on contempt. The poor attitude and the veiled hostility toward Edward was never enough for Roy to cal him on it, but he was noticing now the way the lieutenant seemed to be constantly watching; he just wished he could figure out why.

Like today, for example. Lieutenant Marcus cared little for alchemy had been decidedly unenthusiastic about the arrival of the Xingian embassy. Yet here he was at the demonstration. Given the way he'd been glaring at them earlier, Roy doubted it was because of the food. And now the annoying git had positioned himself down on Roy's blind side. He hated that he had such a vulnerability; there were times when having Ed's sold, dependable presence on his left was more of a comfort than he would let on.

For now, there was nothing he could do but stay alert and not let his aide get to him.

* * *

Yu ate her own food around helping those around her with the utensils, although she had to admit she had less of a job than some of her countrymen. Roy, of course, had learned as a child; eating with chopsticks had been something of a treat in their household. Edward's technique was inelegant but effective. It wouldn't win him any prizes, but it got the food to his mouth, and he even managed to keep his gloves relatively clean, although why he insisted on eating with them on she still didn't know. Alphonse and Winry seemed to be picking it up well enough on their own, after a discussion on physics and applied forces and the properties of levers. This left her with Warrant Officer Allensworth and her family. They weren't having the easiest time, but they were good natured about it, and the children, at least, were having fun. A quick scan of the courtyard had told her that this wasn't the case with everyone, and a few had resorted to getting out the Amestrian utensils they had kept on reserve.

She caught sight of the man she'd seen earlier. He was again staring at her son and his companion, and she couldn't quite place the expression on his face. It wasn't friendly, that much was certain. He caught her watching and looked away, and after a moment she did the same.

Beside her Winry had paused in her eating. She seemed to be contemplating the chopsticks in her hand, and then the girl turned a speculative look toward Edward.

The young man shook his head. "Can't; tried it."

"No, the metal wouldn't have nearly enough give, would it," she mused, looking back to her utensils and testing them against a piece of chicken.

"I ended up breaking the pair I used."

Yu considered asking, but decided to see where their conversation went instead.

"I can see why, the grip on a pencil or pen can be varied, but these. . . ." Winry picked up the chicken piece and held it above her plate, only to have the sticks twist and lose the food. "Oops."

"The fine control wasn't enough, either," Edward continued. "But then, this was when I was twelve. . . ."

"Well, of course you didn't have the fine control, idiot—woops! Damn it, I was doing so well—" She chased the piece and finally snagged it, quickly shoving it into her mouth before it could fall again.

"And you complain about my table manners."

She kicked him under the table, and he kicked back, and Yu scooted over to stay out of range.

The conversation drifted back to levers and fulcrums, the three blonds once again speaking with the rapid ease that only comes from years of familiarity.

It wasn't long before they were interrupted by Mei recreating her podium.

The princess went through the typical pleasantries about hoping everyone was enjoying the meal and then started on a basic explanation of Xing's brand of alchemy. Yu mostly tuned her out in favor of scanning the crowd again. Mei had asked for her help in gauging who of the Amestrian alchemists might be receptive to working together; the older woman just wished she knew why. The princess was scheming something, that went without saying, but what she hoped to gain from Amestrian alchemy Yu was still trying to puzzle out.

Her eyes fell again on the soldier she'd noticed before. She was hardly surprised to see that he was paying about as much attention to the demonstration as she was; he was, again, focused on Roy and Edward. She made a mental note to inquire about him later.

Up in the clear area of the courtyard, Mei was making a production of throwing her knives and transmuting at a distance. The girl was showing off, but Yu could hardly fault her. Princess Mei was among the best practitioners in Xing.

"She's not bad," Edward mused, brining Yu's attention back to her table. "Fighter, too, I bet,"

"You think so?" Winry said. "I mean, she's good with those knives, yeah. . . ."

"No, definitely, look at the way she moves," Alphonse commented. "She's definitely been trained in something physical, and judging by the amount of control in her movements, I'd say it's probably martial arts."

"You can tell that from back here?" Warrant Officer Allensworth's husband muttered.

"Very perceptive," Yu agreed. "Princess Mei has been trained in martial arts since she was a young child. But many people are misled by her size and underestimate her."

Winry gave Edward a wicked grin. "We wouldn't know anything about that sort of thing, would we."

Roy hid a smile behind his hand while the boy sputtered and turned red. "You—fu—wh—you—" He raised his hand but aborted what was probably going to be a rude gesture after a quick glance at the two children sitting nearby, and instead used his chopsticks to fling a piece of food across the table as his friend tried to dodge and smother her giggles behind her hand at the same time.

"Don't you dare get any ideas, you two," Allensworth muttered to her son and daughter, who were, indeed, looking like they were starting to get ideas.

Mei was speaking again, explaining how the lines of energy that allowed one to transmute at a distance could also be found in the human body, and the three blonds suddenly snapped their attention back to the front. They listened avidly as Mei explained how this qi could be used not only to heal but to find hidden injuries and even, if the practitioner knew what she was doing, to cause pain or debilitate an opponent.

"That's amazing," Winry said as she clapped along with everyone else.

"Told'ya you'd want to hear this," Edward commented, his own applause muffled by his gloves. "Hey, I wonder if there're any books on this that've been translated into Amestrian."

"You could call Scheska—you know, use the phone? That thing you absolutely hate using?"

Edward cringed. "The last time I tried calling Scheska her phone was buried and she nearly caused an avalanche trying to get to it."

"Eheh . . . right. I'll stop by her place when I get to Central."

Now that the demonstration was over people were returning to eating and talking, many asking questions of the Xingian hosts. Mei was walking down the tables, answering questions and giving small demonstrations. Susan, apparently bored now that there wasn't something to watch, scooted over into Edward's lap and picked up his hand. Her mother started to reprimand her, but the young man waved his free hand and insisted he didn't mind. The girl gave her mother a smug look and started to play with the hand, bending the wrist and fingers back and forth.

"If this—this 'qi'—can be used to heal wounds and stuff," Winry was saying, "then could it also be, I dunno, realigned or something?"

"'Realigned'?" Yu asked, startled from her observations. "How do you mean?"

"To get the body to accept something it wouldn't normally have to. Amestrian alchemy doesn't do that when it's used for medical purposes—does it? How does that work with the equivalent exchange, anyway?"

"From the little Marcoh told me," Roy spoke up, "Amestrian medical alchemy mostly works by accelerating the body's natural ability to heal. It can make the patient ravenous and weak for a time while the body replenishes the energy that was used."

"That sounds risky to me. If you put too much stress on the body, too quickly. . . ."

"It is. He said in many cases he would refuse if it wasn't a life or death situation, except when he—hm. It is as risky as it sounds, yes."

There was a pause where something hung unsaid between the four of them, so heavy it was almost tangible. "It's—it's not just the stress, though," Winry continued after a moment. "Sometimes the body just doesn't heal itself right. For example, if the skin on your fingers is badly damaged, like from a burn, you can't just bandage the hand as a whole because the skin between your fingers might grow together."

Roy nodded and touched his eye patch. "Like the way the scar formed over my eye socket."

"Right. In that case it wasn't detrimental, but you can imagine how it could be. It's something we have to watch with automail. We have to make sure scar tissue doesn't form where it shouldn't."

"Automail?" Yu asked, trying to distract herself from imagining what the left side of her son's face must look like under the patch.

"Winry's an automail mechanic," Alphonse explained, his pride in his friend evident on his face.

"But if the body can be . . . helped along, somehow, both to heal and to accept the automail, it might significantly reduce the chance of rejection and speed up the recovery time. Could it . . .?" She turned to Yu with a hopeful expression, but the older woman had to shake her head and smile in apology.

"You have to understand, there was a reason I came to Amestris to study alchemy. You would do much better to talk to Mei or one of the others."

"Nii-san?" Alphonse ventured as Winry nodded and set to finishing her meal.

The uncharacteristically quiet young man looked up at his brother, not paying any attention to the little girl in his lap, who was now twisting his wrist in what had to be an uncomfortable manner. "Hm? Oh . . . I was just wondering if this 'qi' stuff had, I dunno, a signature or something. If it was different in different animals."

"Ooh . . . if it was, it might be possible to isolate. . . ."

". . . Separate. . . ."

". . . Deconstruct, and then. . . ."

". . . If the physical body could be made to follow the correct qi. . . ."

". . . Then maybe. . . ."

The boys stared at each other for an intense moment, then as one turned to her.

"Yu-san—!"

"—Who would—"

"—Who could we ask—"

"—Might know—"

More than a little dumbfounded, Yu pointed them to a man close to her own age who was perhaps not the most skilled of their group, but who was known for his knowledge and experience. Edward tossed her a "Thanks!" as he set Susan on the bench and jumped up. Alphonse was more polite but just as rushed.

"What was that about?" she asked as she watched them accost her countryman.

Roy met her eyes but shook his head. "I could explain—but not right now."

Winry soon finished, then went to go intercept Mei.

"Do those three ever slow down?" Warrant Officer Allensworth commented. "I thought Edward-san and Alphonse-kun were bad enough on their own."

Roy chuckled. "I suspect that, as children, Winry-san was the only one who could keep up with Ed and Al, and they were the only ones who could keep up with her. If they do have slow times, I haven't seen it."

"She's not an alchemist, though, is she?" Yu asked.

"No; the Rockbells have all been mechanics and surgeons. She understands alchemy, though, from her association with the Elrics." He excused himself then, standing to make the rounds of the tables to see what his people thought of the demonstration.

When her son was out of earshot, Yu leaned closer to Allensworth and asked, "Who is that soldier there, sitting by himself?"

The woman's eyes flicked in the direction she had indicated. "First Lieutenant Marcus, Brigadier General Mustang's aide." Then, in a much lower voice, added, "So you caught him glaring over here, too, huh?"

"He doesn't seem to be . . . overly fond of Roy."

She snorted quietly, then was momentarily distracted by having to stop her son from trying to throw a piece of food with his chopsticks. "Look, I don't want to say much here," she continued, "but some of us think they assigned the Brigadier General the worst possible aide. I'm not saying the lieutenant is a bad soldier, just. . . ."

"Incompatible?" her husband offered.

"That's one way to put it."

Yu nodded, glancing over to where the lieutenant sat, occasionally casting withering looks to where Edward and his brother were talking animatedly with the elder pharmacist. "I see."

"See what now?"

Yu looked up and smiled as her old friend walked up behind them. "Nothing much, Charles."

"Oh, General Johansen!" The warrant officer hastily snapped a salute.

"Bah. I'm retired now, no need for formalities."

Yu excused herself and stood, walking a little ways away with her friend. "It seems not all of Roy's subordinates are as fond of him as the ones you spoke of."

"Oh, you mean that lieutenant who kept giving him dirty looks. That's Marcus, isn't it? I looked into the people who'd been assigned here a bit."

"Did you? What do you know of him?"

The retired general shrugged. "Not much. Follows orders and does his job, but there wasn't much in his record to distinguish him. Kind of lack-luster, to be honest. Probably why he's still a lieutenant."

"Hmm."

"Isn't that the young woman who was with the Elric boys? She seems to be having a bit of trouble with something."

Yu looked where he indicated and suppressed a grimace. Winry seemed to be trying to explain something, but the three she was speaking with—Mei and two others—were giving her very blank looks. "Ah, how negligent of me, I should have realized she would need some help. Excuse me a moment."

She approached them just as the young mechanic was saying ". . . The surgery to attach the ports . . . the connections? Where the automail attaches? Um. . . ."

Yu put a hand on her arm. "Winry-san—I'm sorry, I should have mentioned this: Xing doesn't have automail, so I'm afraid there's not much of a frame of reference."

Blue eyes blinked at her. "No . . . no automail? Really?"

"No, I'm afraid not." She turned and explained the concept of the metal prosthetic limbs as best she could in Xingian—which wasn't very well. Automail had just been coming into its own when she had last lived in Amestris, so her own understanding was quite limited.

Mei looked intrigued, but one of the others hid a smile behind her hand. "That sound . . . heavy." She went on to say something more in Xingian, which Yu chose to translate as "They sound . . . awkward and clunky."

"Awkw. . . ." Winry's mouth fell open, and then snapped shut in what looked like indignation. "Clunky." She narrowed her eyes at them, then spun. "Ed! Edward! C'mere!"

The boy took one look at her and turned tail, only to snap back when Alphonse snagged his ponytail. The younger boy dragged his grumbling, cursing brother over by the hair and shoved him toward Winry.

"—Ow, ow—fucking—not a exhibit, dammit—"

"Thanks, Al."

"—Traitor—"

"No problem."

The young woman grabbed his wrist and dug her fingers under the cuff of his glove, then whipped the fabric off with a flourish.

Yu gasped along with the others at the sight of the metal hand. Her first thought was, well, that explains the gloves.

"Bet you didn't realize it was a prosthetic, did ya?" Winry pushed Edward's sleeve back and held up the steel arm for them to see. "Rockbell Automail specializes in naturalistic replacement limbs!"

Edward sighed in resignation and rubbed his forehead.

Yu couldn't quite pull her thoughts together to translate the excited chatter. Automail certainly had come a long way in twenty some-odd years.

"This . . . the whole arm is this way?" Mei asked over the other two.

"Yeah, the port's in his shoulder here—"

"Not taking my shirt off."

"Don't be such a—"

"Not. Taking it. Off."

The boy looked like he might bite her fingers if she tried. There was a momentary silent battle of wills, gold against blue, and then Winry made an exasperated sound and jerked him forward by the arm.

"Fine. Anyway, we always try to keep as much of the original limb as possible, but Ed lost his arm to the shoulder. The port is here." She pulled the fabric taut, and Yu saw the outline of what looked like metal plates.

"This stays all the time?" someone asked. They were beginning to draw a crowd, as several Xingians and a few Amestrains came over to see what was going on.

"The arm is detachable, of course, and the outer plates of the port can be removed, but it's best to only do that when it's required for maintenance. Reattachment is painful and there's always the chance of nerve damage if it's done improperly."

Out of the corner of her eye Yu saw Edward suppress a wince.

"They want to know how it can move," she said, translating the question she'd been hearing the most.

"Oh! Well, sensors in the port pick up the electromagnetic impulses that travel along the nerves and send signals through the wires in the arm. . . ."

"Um. . . ."

"For the love of—simple explanation!" Ed snapped. "The arm's gone, but my body is still sending signals to is as if it was there. The automail picks up those signals and turns them into movement."

"That's the gist of it, yeah," Winry agreed. "But there's also feedback—pressure sensors, kinetic sensors, proprioception—"

"In other words, I know when it's touching something, I know when it's moving, and I know where it is."

"—Right. That's what I said."

"Like hell. Lay off the techy terms already, automail geek."

"Alchemy geek." She glared and stuck out her tongue, both of which he returned. Alphonse rolled his eyes.

"As I was saying before," the mechanic continued, "the surgery is difficult and automail patients usually take years to fully recover, and there's always the danger that the body will reject the ports. But what you were saying in the demonstration, about using the body's, um, qi to heal? Could it also be used to help automail patients? Maybe help them accept the ports, or help their bodies get used to moving the automail?"

"It . . . might be possible," Mei said slowly. She reached up a hand and lightly touched the young man's shoulder. Edward looked like he would have stepped back if Winry hadn't had his arm hostage. "I am . . . not familiar with the ways such things are attached. But it might be possible to . . . I'm not sure I know quite the right word for it. But all things have qi, not just the land or people—"

"You mean you could make the body and the automail work together?" Edward interrupted again. "Like, harmonize their energies or something?"

"Possibly."

"Could you make automail not hurt?" Alphonse spoke up.

"Al. . . ."

"Oh—does this hurt you?" Mei asked.

"Some . . . times. . . ." the young man admitted, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.

"I think that would be very possible. . . ."

The conversation went on between the four of them, with occasional comments from the others.

"o they actually can interact civilly. I had my doubts.

Yu looked over at her niece's quiet comment, not having noticed the younger woman approach. "o did I—but it looks as though they're doing fine, for now, she said in the same low tone. "o long as nothing triggers their tempers. What she didn't say was that Mei's effort to friendly made her suspicious. The princess wasn't an unkind person, but under normal circumstances Yu didn't think she'd be so quick to forget her previous encounter with Edward.

Li Xue returned the smile, but she looked troubled.

"s something wrong?

"o, not really," the younger woman answered. "There is something I would like to talk about with you, but it can wait.