The Rest of the Story

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's been reading these. This one takes place in the middle of Worlds. You pick your place there. It is about a couple I haven't written about, and it is not a second chapter, Chapter Two is just the name of this little cookie to my other fics.

Chapter Two

Vato Falman had always liked his nice, quiet life. He could immerse himself in books or good music. His daughter would come over to visit on occasion, and he would take her to the movies or find a new activity to do with her, but as his daughter lived hours away, those times with her were few and far between. Particularly now that she had reached adulthood.

Today, he found himself looking over a book he had attempted to read several times before, somehow managing to get stopped somewhere while reading. He picked it up again. The bookmark was only in chapter two. He knew he’d had it for over a month, had been trying to read it for nearly as long.

And yet he was only on chapter two.

He made himself comfortable in the overstuffed chair of the apartment, moving aside a discarded pink sweater. He would hang it up later. At the moment, this was the only time he would have to read.

With the faint trill of a classical piece coming from the radio in the corner, he had his soundtrack for his novel, and he was slowly sinking into the world of a historic battle, of strategy and planning, of figures of legend.

He only half-heard the door slam shut as he continued to read, his mind supplying the noise as cannon fire. The huffing he heard was just the sound of the horses as they charged down the hillside, the clicking of hard heals on the wood floor becoming the sound of a general’s swift footsteps along the cobblestone road.

“Damned, idiotic military! Blind bunch of sheep led by brain-damaged shepherds!” a voice yelled out. There was no pretending that the smooth, female voice currently yelling quite loudly belonged in his book. “I don’t even care that my baby brother’s in charge of them.” She came into the room with Vato. “Don’t care either that your paycheck comes from them. I hate the damned military.”

Vato tried, very hard, to continue reading.

“Do you know that I had a private come into my office? My office! I’m not a military doctor. I’m not on the military health plan, but he came to my office because he thought I would understand.”

She huffed, and after a few months of living with the woman, Vato knew he had better put his book down, doing his best to look attentive, knowing there would be yet another rant in his immediate future. She was quite good at them. Sometimes, the older man felt it was little wonder that the fuhrer had married Ed, as she could resemble him mid-raving speech. If this had been what Roy grew up with, well, it would not be a surprise that he would continue to surround himself with someone like this into adulthood.

“He came in because his sergeant had pushed him too hard, had infections on both of his feet so bad, I wondered how he could walk.”

“It is not unusual for soldiers to do long marches,” Vato answered before he could think better of his answer.

“Oh, really? Is it military custom for a sergeant to threaten a soldier who is in danger of losing his feet that if he seeks medical help, he will ensure that he never, ever walks again? Is that common practice?” She gestured angrily, and her boyfriend was quite grateful that the tattoos on her hands were designed only for healing purposes. She sometimes did unintentional alchemy with them in an emotional state, but could do nothing dangerous, and he had ordered enough office furniture for the fuhrer to know what happened when a fire alchemist loses his temper.

“It was an act that was frowned upon when I was in the military, and under your brother’s leadership, it could be worthy of court marshal,” he said, voice calm. “The sergeant pushed the private too far and realizes now that if the private visits a military doctor, the sergeant will be written up for it. It was an act of desperation on the sergeant’s part.”

“Yes, and do you have any idea how frustrating it is to know that I could have that sergeant’s hide, just by telling my brother about the private?” Raine asked him. “But I can’t. The private pleaded with me not to, and doctor/patient privilege wouldn’t allow it even if he hadn’t asked.”

Vato stood and took her flailing hands into his own, holding them securely between them. “You are doing everything you can. That private will return to you for an additional check-up, I’m sure. Perhaps, you can convince him to do something. If not, then at least you know you have helped him, and he will not suffer further from this infection.”

Raine raised an eyebrow, something that to some was frighteningly reminiscent of her brother, but that Vato had reconciled himself with as one of her quirks she just so happened to share with him. “Does anything make you emotional?” she asked. “Work you up?”

“You know that answer is yes.”

“And not this?” she asked.

“It is an unfortunate thing that happens. It will be up to the private whether something is done or up to one of the other men in his unit to report their C.O. It is not something that either you or I can change. We can merely mention to the fuhrer that he might want to observe his drill sergeants closely. Nothing more.”

“And that’s it?” she asked him.

“That is all that can be done at this point.”

“I still swear there is nothing that fazes you.”

“The list is small, I will admit,” Vato said with a small smile. “You being around the top of that list.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” She looked at him with those almond-shaped black eyes. “I almost doubted there was any passion or strong emotion in you. Thankfully, you have stopped describing everything that you are about to do to me. Not only was it disconcerting, but I am well aware of both of our body parts thanks to my profession.”

Vato leaned down and lightly kissed the woman’s soft lips, knowing he probably transferred some of her brown-toned lipstick onto his own thin ones. “You are a good woman, Raine Mustang, and a very good doctor.”

“So I’m not as good a woman as I am a doctor?” she asked, squeezing his hands. “Or are you saying I am sometimes bad?” Her expression as well as tone became suggestive.

“I am saying that you will do what you know you should and must, and in the end, you will do the best possible thing for that private and to maintain your practice so that others can receive help.”

“I was suggesting that we head to the bedroom, you know,” she said, looking annoyed at him for continuing on the topic of her rant.

“Yes, but I did not want to be a distraction nor did I want you to continue to be angry with yourself, as I cannot do anything about how you feel about the sergeant. When we retreat to the bedroom and you are angry, I usually find myself in need of your professional help,” he said.

“I don’t hurt you every time,” she said, pulling him to their shared room.

“Often enough,” he said, glancing back at his book just a moment. At least he made it to chapter three.