Lessons in Life and Love

Title: You Can't Hurry Love
Author: NekoEro
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist nor do I make any money from the writing of this fic.

Summary: Futurefic. Ed has grown far too comfortable in his intimate relationship with Winry and his self-centeredness coupled with his tendency to be an outright oblivious idiot leads to their breakup. Will Ed learn what love really is and that there’s more to being a man than just being of legal age and being in a sexual relationship? This is the second of three stories in the “Lessons in Life and Love” series.

April 1, 2010

At last! An update! This ended up being my entry for FMA Big Bang on LJ, which means it's over 27,150 words which made it necessary to break it up into three parts. Equivalent Exchange will be the next and final story to the LLL series.

You Can't Hurry Love
Part 2


The warmth and scents hit Mustang like a welcoming wave of sensory comfort as he opened the door and hurried out of the cold and into the bar’s interior, thankful for memories and the sense of well-being it granted him. It was home to him in spite of appearances and he hastily closed the door to enclose himself within its familiar confines.

As Mustang slipped from his coat and hung it from an empty hook on the coat rack, it occurred to him that Vanessa hadn’t run up to hug him in warm greeting. In fact, none of the other girls had either, which left him annoyed and perplexed. His irritation didn’t last long as a feminine squeal from the other end of the room drew his attention and he turned to see several of the girls standing in a tight clutch around someone or something sitting on the stool at the far end of the bar. Mustang grimaced to himself; even though a bit envious, he could almost pity whomever or whatever was the center of attention. The girls could get a bit overzealous when they found something they really liked.

“Oh come on, now! You’re just so cute! All I want to do is kiss you on the cheek!” It was Barbara’s voice that carried to him and it sounded as if she had targeted her next victim. The muttered response from the hidden patron was low, unintelligible, but Mustang swore it sounded familiar.

“Roy-boy! Good to see you!” Roy smiled at his foster mother and removed his scarf to add it to the hook with his coat.

“Madame Christmas.” He nodded in respect, “I needed a little time to relax so I thought I’d stop by and say hello.” He moved to a stool across the bar from the corpulent woman stood and perched comfortably on it. At the other end of the highly polished wood counter, the commotion continued to rage between the covey of eager women and their unfortunate victim. Mustang glanced in irritation, finding the elevated level of noise jarring on his nerves after a long day of butting heads with other officials.

The large woman leaned forward on the highly polished surface of the bar as she flashed Mustang a smirk. “Are you sure ‘Elizabeth’ approves of you coming here?”

“C’mon, now, she knows why I stop here and besides, you’re the one that sent me a message asking me to drop in.”

“Have you popped the question, yet?” Madame Christmas asked wryly as she stood straight again, the added, “The usual?”

“Yes, the usual, and no, I haven’t asked her yet,” Roy shot back, tapping his forefinger on the bar, “Is that why you asked me to come here tonight? Because if that’s the reason, you could have saved yourself the trouble by asking me that over the phone.” Another round of giggles from the other end of the bar caused Roy to glance away from Christmas’ scolding but amused gaze, if only for a second.

“You’d best not wait too long, son,” the older woman said as she took a bottle out from beneath the bar and poured it into a glass, “She’s a patient woman, but she won’t wait forever.” She dropped several ice cubes into the scotch and slid a coaster toward him before setting the glass on it. “You did buy the ring, didn’t you?” Christmas pried as she leaned on her crossed arms on the bar top.

Now Mustang was cross; this was something he wasn’t interested in discussing at the moment and his foster mother’s persistence was raising his ire. He took a healthy swig from his glass and set it firmly on the coaster, readying himself for a confrontation. “Let’s drop the subject for now and I’ll let you know when I’ve completely lost my mind and decide to propose—“ His words were cut off by an extremely familiar voice barking ‘Stop it!’ and another round of boisterous giggles from the girls. Even as the liquor began its warming, calming effects on his senses, it finally clicked in Mustang’s head why the voice sounded so familiar. Certainly, he’d heard wrong…

“Get OFF me!! Don’t touch me like THAT!!” the voice spat vehemently and there was no doubt in Mustang’s mind just who it belonged to:

“Fullmetal?!”

“That’s the reason I asked you to come here, Roy-boy,” Christmas announced with an evil grin, “Your young friend stopped in looking for you and asked if I would give you a call and ask you to come by tonight.”

Mustang blinked once, twice, as his brain attempted to process the information. Had he heard his foster mother correctly or had he finally lost his mind? If so, maybe it was time to propose to Riza, after all.

“I think you’d better rescue him, though,” Christmas said with a chuckle, “Before the girls rob him of any innocence he still might have.”

Incredulous, Mustang snapped his head around to look at his ‘mother’ again. “You gotta be kidding me! Fullmetal? Here?!”

“See for yourself.” Madame Christmas placed two fingers to her lips and let out a whistle nearly shrill enough to shatter the mirror behind the bar. At the sharp sound, the girls immediately turned to look at her. The Madame clapped her hands twice, indicating she wanted their compliance, “Okay, girls, you’ve had you’re fun. Let him up for air.”

With a round of disappointed ‘Awww’s, the young ladies backed away from their quarry and began to disperse. Only one girl hesitated long enough to run a hand across the young alchemist’s chest and down his belly in a suggestive manner, causing him to jerk away from her touch so violently that he nearly fell off the barstool.

Mustang sighed. ‘So much for enjoying a quiet evening.’

“Okay, Barbara. I think he’s had enough.” Which was an understatement, because even at this distance he could see the deep red flush on Ed’s face.

Barbara stuck her tongue out at Mustang in response and leaned in to whisper something into the young man’s ear before she retreated. The mortified expression on Ed’s gave Mustang some idea just what the brunette’s parting words might have been.

Ed didn’t look over at his rescuer. Instead, he lifted the glass setting in front of him and drained the remaining contents in one gulp. Judging by the color and opacity of the liquid he had just consumed, Mustang knew that Ed wasn’t imbibing in his usual orange soda pop this time around.

Now he was intrigued. Why had Fullmetal come looking for him and why was he partaking in booze? Both highly suspicious actions by themselves, but in combination…

Mustang stood and picked up his glass before walking over to the young man and sitting on the bar stool next to him.

“Fullmetal,” Mustang grunted in greeting. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the young man’s larynx bob in a nervous swallow. Whatever reason Ed had sought him, it wasn’t something he was comfortable discussing.

“Vice Chancellor Mustang,” Ed finally croaked in response. Still, he wouldn’t make eye contact.

Mustang looked closer at Ed’s face and stifled a chuckle; it seemed as if the young alchemist had already been waiting for some time judging by the somewhat glazed look in his deep gold eyes. If he kept drinking like he had with his last drink, the kid would have one hell of a hangover in the morning, especially since Ed wasn’t known to drink at all.

Mustang mentally sighed. Might as well find out why the kid was acting so out of character.

“I understand you wanted to see me, Fullmetal. So, what brings you to this part of town? And call you can me ‘Roy.’”

Ed didn’t respond for several seconds. When he did speak, he tapped the bar with an automail finger, beckoning the corpulent woman for another drink.

“Another one, please,” Ed requested politely. He glanced at Mustang out of the corner of his eye, “Wan’ another? I’m buying.”

“What gives, Fullmetal? Since when did you start drinking? And since when did you learn to be polite?”

“Shuttup,” Ed shot back without his usual hostility, “Do you wan’ a drink or not, Roy?”

Mustang thought for a long moment; should he indulge the young man or should he put his foot down now? Indulge, of course. It would be amusing to watch Ed’s deteriorating mental faculties aside from the fact the resulting conversation could be great fodder for future torment. He shrugged non-committally. “Sure.”

When Madame Christmas approached, Ed pointed at his empty glass then at Mustang’s. “N’other round.”

The older woman’s eyebrow’s shot up an inch and she glanced at Mustang for his endorsement. When he nodded ever so slightly, she took Ed’s empty glass and walked away.

Mustang turned back to the young man, “What are you drinking and how many have you had, Fullmetal? You won’t be of any use to Barbara if you drink too much.”

“Fuck you. And none of yur business,” came the sharp reply.

“It is my business if I have to carry you out of here. No, wait—I have no intention of tarnishing my image. I’ll just hand you over to Barbara and let her put you to bed. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to ‘accommodate’ you.” He took a long draw from his scotch, finally finishing it.

“Yur a real prick, ya know,” Ed muttered, his speech slurring slightly. Obviously, the booze had already begun to work on him, making his tongue sluggish. Madame Christmas returned and the younger man fished his wallet from his back pocket. Pulling out a handful of cenz, Ed pushed the money toward the older woman as she set the drinks down in front of them. He watched anxiously as she collected Mustang’s empty glass and the money. “Keep the change,” he rasped, returning the wallet to his pocket. His gaze then dropped to the natural hand, which was holding onto his full glass as if it were a lifeline.

The Madame shot him a surprised look.

An odd grin stretched her painted lips when Mustang rolled his eyes in disbelief, “Thanks, kid,” she replied and retreated to the back room.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the two. Ed seemed too afraid to speak, and Mustang patiently waited for the younger alchemist to explain his bizarre behavior. The quiet stretched out until the former Flame Alchemist took the time to observe the young man discreetly, hoping to find some visual clues to whatever demons might be haunting him.

Ed had grown, matured over the last few years, now only a mere shadow of the youth that had challenged Führer Bradley during his alchemy test to obtain his State Alchemist’s license. He was taller and gone was the youthful roundness to his face. His frame seemed squarer, better defined and the Chancellor could easily see why Barbara and the other girls were fighting for his attention; Ed was strikingly handsome and Mustang felt a pang of envy jolt through him. Ed could have his pick of any woman, but instead, not only was he painfully shy and self-conscious, he could also be downright rude.

Now that Mustang had mellowed into his early 30’s, the women didn’t seem quite as drawn to him and he felt a bit nostalgic over the loss of his youth and the undivided attention of the ladies. But of course, he reminded himself, that lifestyle was no longer necessary; he had already chosen the perfect woman for him and was ready to settle down with her.

Well, eventually, anyway.

The two men remained silent for some time longer before Ed made an attempt to speak by clearing his throat. “I—I need y—yur,” he paused long enough to take a deep breath, “Advice,” he finished in a hoarse whisper. “I—I have ah problem th—that I’m not sure I c—can figure out on m’ own.” That said, Ed lifted his glass to his lips and took a deep swallow.

‘That must’ve hurt like hell,’ Mustang thought, ‘Normally this kid would rather die than ask me for help.’ When Ed didn’t continue, Mustang gleefully jumped in. “Having trouble with an alchemic equation?”

“No.”

“With your brother?”

“Nah.”

“Your reassignment papers?”

“No.”

“Your pension? It won’t be enough?”

“I’m good.”

“You figured out you’re a cross-dresser?”

“Hell, no!!”

“After returning your brother to his body, you discovered he’s actually your little sister?” Mustang grinned to himself; toying with Ed was just too much fun.

“Jus…juss shut the fuck up and lissen!” Ed actually turned a glassy but very fiery glare at him.

“Edward, just tell me and I’ll stop guessing.” Mustang stared the younger man down, “It can’t be women problems! You can’t even look one in the eye without blushing or running in the opposite direction!”

Ed stiffened and a sullen look altered his lax expression.

“Wait a minute…No way.” A light came on over Mustang’s head as he pondered the impossible, “Edward, you didn’t get some unfortunate young lady pregnant, did you?” He snorted derisively, “Oh, wait, that can’t be it. Look who I’m talking about, here.”

Ed’s temper flared white-hot, “Dammit, no! I dinnit get anyone pregnant!” He slumped, hiding his face behind his long blond bangs as if embarrassed, “We…we were careful ‘bout that…” In the next second, Ed looked as if he were going to be sick and Mustang subconsciously sidled away.

‘So, the kid isn’t a virgin anymore. Couldn’t be anyone from Central. I would have heard about her if she were from around here. Wait…didn’t Riza mention he was sweet on his mechanic, the Rockbell girl?’

When Ed stayed silent for too long, Mustang thought it best to say something and bring the kid out of his stupor, just in case he was either getting sick or ready to pass out. “Fullmetal, you’re looking rather ill. Are you okay?”

Ed idly waved him away, but his face was ashen and covered with a thin sheen of sweat.

“Edward, if you didn’t get anyone pregnant, then what’s so serious that you had to contact me? Could it be you want to propose to her but are afraid to?” Mustang grinned and sidled over a bit further, causing the stool to scrape harshly across the floor; Ed wasn’t green when he looked up, but he still didn’t look well.

“She…she threw me out. She broke up wi’ me,” he whined piteously, his glazed golden eyes half-lidded as if in shame.

Mustang stifled a laugh and hid his smile behind his hand. “Well, there’s no surprise. As crass as you are, I can’t understand why any woman would want to put up with your shit for very long.”

Ed’s crushed expression put the brakes on Mustang’s well-intended ribbing. The kid looked genuinely wounded at his words. Before he went on any further with his taunting, maybe it would be best to get to the heart of the problem.

“What did you do to her? If you know what it was you did, then maybe you can make up for it. Most women do appreciate real effort when it comes to apologies.” The silence repeated and Mustang could see the inner conflict flicker across the younger man’s face. Whatever it was, the younger man felt too timid to talk about it. “Again, Edward, I can’t help you unless I know what the problem is,” he reiterated, “She must be very important to you or you wouldn’t have sought my advice.”

“She wouldn’t lissen to me when ah tried to apa—apologize.”

“Good grief, Fullmetal just what the hell was it you did?”

“It…it’s wha I din’t do.” Ed replied so softly that Mustang found himself wishing he hadn’t retreated so far from the other man’s side.

“And? That was…?” Mustang prompted again, reminding himself to be patient with Ed’s reticence.

“I…I…” Ed swallowed again and an odd expression came over his face. “This was stupid. I nev’r should hev come here.” He gulped from his glass again.

“But you are here, so you’d best start talking.”

When no answer came, Mustang tried a different tact. “Okay, let’s start with who. Can you at least tell me who she is?” He took a judicious sip from his own glass. It was best that he kept his senses about him, even if Edward was obviously going to be passed out on the floor shortly. He needed to be sober enough to explain the subtleties of male-female relationships well enough so even this sometimes clueless prodigy could understand, even while drunk senseless.

A moment of hesitation, then Ed spoke softly, wistfully, “Winry. M’ chil’hood friend, Winry Rockbell.”

‘Ah-ha! Thought so! Besides, she’s the only one who is able keep him under some semblance of control. Have to admit, the kid certainly has excellent taste in women.’

Mustang waited long enough for a dramatic pause before replying, “Of course. If anyone could put up with you, it would be her. But then again, apparently not, if she threw you out.”

Ed’s fire returned, albeit watered down by the liquor, but there was no mistaking his anger. It was almost as if Mustang had called him the ‘s’ word. Then, in the next instant, it was gone, replaced with guilt once more.

“Sorry,” Mustang conceded with a quick wave, “That was in bad taste, I know.” He looked at the deep amber liquid in the bottom of his glass, acting as if the way it wound around the ice cubes was terribly fascinating. “From what little I know about her, she’s pretty tolerant of you, Edward. I’m at odds trying to figure out what you did that would have set her off to the point she’d do something that drastic.”

“I…I disappointed her,” came the simple reply, followed by, “And ah made her feel bad ‘bout herself when I sed’ and did some ‘thins I shouldn’t ‘ave.” Ed drained the glass at this and set it down on the coaster with a thump.

Disappointed? The gears in Mustang’s head worked for a bit before even more impossible (okay, maybe not impossible, but certainly not as plausible) scenarios flitted through his mind. Certainly, the kid couldn’t be that clueless.

Then again…

“Cud we get ‘nother round, here?!” Ed nearly bellowed as he called for Madame Christmas again. He flailed when he momentarily lost his balance on the barstool but caught himself before he slipped to the floor. He sat motionless for an extended moment before easing down to cross his arms on the bartop and resting his head upon them.

Christmas appeared in the backroom door, but Mustang held up a hand as she approached. “No more for us, thanks,” he said, nodding slightly toward the inebriated young man sitting next to him.

“I wan’ ‘nother!” came the very slurred protest from the depths of Ed’s arms, but he didn’t sit up.

Mustang shook his head again and leaned over the bar to whisper in his stepmother’s ear as she tipped toward him, “What’s he been drinking?”

“Orange juice and vodka,” she replied in her own whisper and pointed to the empty glass in front of the mound of blond hair, “That was his fourth.”

Mustang winced. The kid would be very sick in the morning. “Can you switch his drink to straight orange juice? And maybe bring him something to eat? We need to sober him up a little.”

“Sure, kiddo,” she whispered back with affection and patted his arm before retreating to the other end of the bar.

Mustang turned his attention back to the human puddle beside him and resumed the discussion without missing a beat, “You’re not the first man that’s done or said something to upset a woman to the point of banishment. Whatever you did, it must have been a real doozy. And disappointing our women is a matter of course; we can’t avoid doing that from time to time.”

“But…I di’nt mean to.” A quiet hiccup issued from his hidden face.

“We never do.”

Again, silence. Shortly, Christmas returned with a basket of pretzels and a glass of what Mustang assumed was straight orange juice.

When Mustang went to pay, the woman refused. “It’s on the house, Hon,” she said before leaving them alone again.

“Ed.”

“Mmnff?”

“EDWARD!”

“Yesh!” He snapped upright and almost fell backwards off the stool. By shear luck, he righted himself and turned a bleary eye toward his former superior officer.

“I’ve come all the way out here because you wanted to talk to me, so talk,” Mustang said, sounding every bit like Ed’s commanding officer, “Or I’m going home to my woman and my warm bed and you can deal with Barbara on your own.”

The young alchemist looked defeated. He heaved a sigh and reached for his ‘drink’. Mustang almost laughed at the peevish expression on Ed’s face after he tasted concoction, but managed to stifle it. He continued to watch as Ed’s face flushed a brilliant red and begin to squirm ever so slightly on his stool as he screwed up the courage to speak. However, he couldn’t have guessed or even expected the words the young alchemist spoke next.

“You know ah lot ‘bout women? ‘Bout how to please them?” It was more of a statement than a question and Ed ploughed ahead without waiting for an answer, “Wha do women wan’, wha do they need fro’ a man?” The young man poked himself in the chest with an automail finger hard enough, Mustang was sure, to leave a bruise behind. “I thought ah knew after our firs’ time, bu’ she told me it wasn’ enough.”

Flabbergasted, Mustang was unsure how to answer. He was asking him for sexual advice?! Unable to hold back his mirth any longer, the laugh escaped in a bark, whereupon it earned him a scathing stare.

Mustang cleared his throat, “My apologies. That was inappropriate.” He turned to better face the prickly young man, “Let me get this straight; you’re having trouble in bed, correct?” When Ed’s upper lip curled into a snarl, he knew he had hit the proverbial nail on the head. Given Ed’s rather direct, headstrong personality, Mustang could almost guess just what the problem was. When a metal digit snapped up to point at a spot between his eyes, the elder alchemist nearly went cross-eyed to track it.

“Don’ you DARE say en’thing to an’one ‘bout this!” Ed sprayed spittle in his anger. Then he deflated again, the embarrassed, guilt-ridden expression returning to his face as his arm dropped to rest in his lap.

A sense of pity overtook the older man; his first encounters with women hadn’t been easy, either, but at least he had the sense to learn from his mistakes as well as having the advantage of growing up in an environment where he was taught how to address a woman’s needs. Ed had basically raised both his younger brother and himself with little other influences in his life except for the beautiful young mechanic and her cantankerous grandmother. Ed really did need the advice of a more experienced male in order to aid his emotional growth into a man.

Mustang huffed a sigh. “Alright, Edward, it’s a secret, between us. I promise.” The young alchemist relaxed and reached for his drink again, only to stop mid-motion as if changing his mind about being thirsty. For a second, Mustang wondered if his foster mother had added an herbal tonic to the drink to help Ed with the process of sobering up and alleviate the worst symptoms of the impending hangover. It tasted bitter and was hard to mask even beneath coffee, let alone orange juice.

Now, how to approach this particular subject without driving the socially inept young man away…?

“Have you been a couple for some time?” Mustang asked, delicately trying to gather as much information as he could in order to find a point from which to start the conversation.

Ed gave a sloppy shrug, “Dunno…maybe six or seven months.”

“How many times have you…been together?”

The muscles in Ed’s jaw worked as he clenched his teeth together and his face literally glowed red. “Nah sure. Nah very many,” came the obscure answer. His eyes never moved from the glass in front of him.

‘Great. The kid is still pretty new to this game.’

“What did she say to you when she told you she was ‘disappointed’?

“This is gettin’ kinda personal…” Ed muttered.

“Do you want my help or not?” Mustang shot back.

Ed wilted in surrender. “She ‘tol me I cud’nt give her wha she needed…in bed. Or wif the e-emotional stuff. Thah I didn’t obey the law of ‘Equivalent Exchange.” He swallowed hard again, “She said she felt used.”

Mustang didn’t know whether he should be amused or mortified by Ed’s confession. Unable to come up with a response that wouldn’t sound facetious, he quietly cleared his throat and asked instead, “Um…anything else?”

Ed’s features pinched together. “She tol’ me women don’ like to be rushed, thah they like ta be ‘romanced.’” He said the last word as if it were distasteful.

“There’s nothing wrong with romance, Edward. It’s beneficial to both you and your lady, if you let it be.”

“But…it’s ah girly thing!”

“No, it’s not. Are you really this immature?” Mustang asked sharply, tiring of Ed’s adolescent point of view, “A real man knows that romance is important if they want to make things better between himself and his lover. Only a kid believes it’s ‘girly’. You’re well past the age of dipping a girl’s hair in an inkwell or slipping bugs down her dress! Act like it!”

“Damn you!” Ed sputtered through clenched teeth as he fisted his prosthetic hand, “Ahm not ah kid! Ahm not!” His breath came in forced gasps and he trembled with barely contained fury. Mustang tensed, his battle-honed reflexes kicking in, having expected this very reaction from the young man. Although he was secure in the knowledge it wouldn’t take much effort to knock Ed onto his ass, he still would rather not take any harsh action against him. He knew it wasn’t the kid’s intention to start a physical altercation, but Mustang also knew alcohol could cloud Ed’s judgment and might cause him to do something stupid.

‘I know him better than he knows himself. Now if I can get him to understand that he needs to re-examine his way of thinking…’

Mustang faced down the rapidly growing rage in Ed’s eyes and continued in a calm, non-judgmental tone, “Don’t tell me. Your approach to sex is like your approach to life in general: always in a hurry, always full force, and always moving forward without a plan. Or do you consider sex as something to study, something that has a fixed variable? Sex isn’t science, Ed. It’s about sharing something deep and meaningful with someone your care about. I’m thinking what Miss Rockbell wanted from you was more than simple recreational sex; she wanted to experience something profound with someone she cares about. If you haven’t made Miss Rockbell happy every time you two are together, it’s no wonder she thinks you’re using her.”

He held steady against Ed’s vitriolic glare, waiting for him to take a swing in anger, but the moment passed without incident and the young alchemist slouched, a bleak, haunted light replacing the rage in eyes as he stared at the polished wood floor. Mustang took this as his cue to continue.

”There comes a time in a young man’s life when he realizes there’s more than one person in a relationship, more than just himself. That he has to think about someone outside himself.” Mustang met Ed’s gaze with purpose when the young man looked up at him forlornly, “That he must think beyond his own needs and address the needs of the woman. That’s what you must do for Miss Rockbell.”

“It…it was my fault. Sh—she has ev’ry right ta be pissed at me.”

Mustang held his tongue, allowing Ed to process the epiphany he had just experienced. Maybe there was hope for the kid after all.

“Shit.” Ed’s spat in a near-whisper and covered his face with his hands as if covering his shame.

Mustang reached for his drink and took a swallow, grimacing when the watered-down liquor filled his mouth and slid down his throat. The ice had melted, which meant the conversation had gone on much longer than he thought. It was time to wrap this subject up, and judging by Ed’s sloppy movements and slurred speech, he was also about done.

“Edward,” he said firmly, capturing the young alchemist’s attention once more. Gold eyes at first peered out through flesh and metal fingers, which were then lowered, exposing more than just Ed’s face; Mustang could almost read the raw emotions revealed there, something Ed rarely showed to anyone.

“She’ll forgive you. Take her out on a date and tell her how you feel.”

The fear returned in Ed’s eyes, prompting Mustang to ask, “What now?”

“Ah’ve never…never taken Winry ohn a date…”

‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’

“You mean to tell me you’ve been boffing this poor girl and you’ve never even taken her out on a date?! Edward, that’s just plain…tacky! And disrespectful!”

Red faced, Ed gnashed his teeth at him like a wild animal. “She started it! I nev’r gottah chance ta ask her owt!”

“She start—!” Mustang gave an annoyed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, warding off an impending headache. “While I really don’t want to know all the details of that particular tale, I can understand why she had to make the first move; you’re so emotionally stunted that if she hadn’t done something drastic, she’d still be waiting for you to ask her out!” He snorted derisively, “Hell, she’s still waiting!”

Ed’s features pinched with irritation but he remained silent.

“Am I to guess you’ve never told her how you feel about her, either?”

The shame on Ed’s face said it all.

‘Unbelievable! He really is that emotionally stunted!’

“You do love her, don’t you?”

The younger man looked at his abandoned drink absently, “…Yes. I do.” Ed’s words were quiet but clear.

“Then it’s time to be a man and learn to treat her right. Am I on the right track, Fullmetal?”

“Yesh, sher.”

‘He’s ploughed. He’s never willingly called me ‘sir’.’

“A last bit of advice; listen to what she has to say, really listen, and she’ll let you know what she wants. When you make love to her, you must take your time and let her know just how much she means to you. Savor her like a fine meal; enjoy every moment, every mouthful. Taste her, feel her, touch her, hear her, see her. Experience her and let her experience you. You’ll never regret it. And always, always respect her feelings. Respect her. Do you understand what I’ve just told you?”

A slight, yet thoughtful nod of acknowledgement was Ed’s answer.

Another thought occurred to Mustang, one that might help drive his point home.

“And as much as I’d enjoy giving you misinformation just so I can sit back and watch you crash and burn, I couldn’t live with my own conscience if I destroyed another man’s sex life.” Mustang left Ed’s side long enough to retrieve a small notebook and fountain pen from his coat pocket then returned and began to scrawl down several notes on a blank page. He tore it out in one swift motion and presented it to the wobbly young man, who had a difficult time focusing on it.

“Tch!” Mustang clicked, more in sympathy than impatience. He reached out and stuffed the slip of paper into the breast pocket of Ed’s oversized black shirt. “Here. It’s a list of nice places here in Central where you can take Miss Rockbell on a date and the address of a bookstore that specializes in more ‘adult’ subject matter. They carry the types of books that will help you learn about the finer nuances of ‘romance’. I’ve also given you the number to my private line in case you have any other questions.”

Ed looked down in a delayed reaction to Mustang’s hand withdrawing from his pocket. He looked up, still weaving a bit and asked in a strangely curious tone, “Porn?”

“Yes, they have that, but they also carry books on relationships. I highly recommend you look at the latter.”

“Wha if…Winry woen’ go out wi’ me? She woen’ even talk to me.” Now he sounded downright wretched.

Mustang raised an eyebrow; Ed sounding pathetic was not something he was either accustomed to or comfortable with.

Time for a pep talk.

“What are you, Fullmetal?! A man or a mouse! If she refuses, don’t give up until she agrees to out!” His voice was firm, that of a commanding officer again, one that could whip subordinates into action.

Ed’s spine snapped straight and he attempted a salute, only to miss his forehead and nearly poke himself in the eye. “Shhir!”

Mustang wiped away the drops of spittle on his face with a sleeve. “Good! Have you learned anything tonight?”

“Yesh!”

“What have you learned?”

There was a moment of hesitation as Ed’s alcohol-soaked brain cells switched gears. “I hav’ ta be good to Whinry. I hav’ ta think ‘bout her, first.”

“Good boy.” Mustang grinned as Ed’s eyes went out of focus for a moment then fluttered as if weighted. Clearly, he was exhausted, ready to pass out.

Roy swiveled to beckon his foster mother over with a wave. “I think calling a taxi is in order, don’t you?”

Madame Christmas observed Ed for a moment and nodded in agreement. “I’ll call for one now. Not unless he’d rather stay here for the night?”

Ed snapped alert at this, “No! Aye’ll go back ta the hotel!”

Both Mustang and Madame Christmas laughed out loud at this.

“What’s wrong, Fullmetal? Barbara might be able to teach you a few things,” Mustang quipped, “Things that could be very useful to you.”

Ed’s anger returned, but it was nearly ineffectual in his deteriorated state of mind, “No! Aye ohnley whan Whinry! Don’ whan anybody else.”

Mustang didn’t bother to stifle his laugher this time. “Good to hear. Now it’s time to get you home.”

Madame Christmas smiled warmly at the young alchemist, who had slouched to rest his head on the bar, “Too bad he didn’t drink more of the remedy I gave him. He would have felt a bit better in the morning,” she remarked as she crossed over to the phone attached to the wall behind the bar.

“Too bad he didn’t at least eat something,” Mustang mumbled as he reached out to keep Ed steady when he started to ooze forward off the stool. “Come on, Edward. Stay with me.” Ed’s head flopped at the sound of his name and he came very near to clonking it against the polished wood.

“Sure it wouldn’t be best if we put him in an unoccupied room for the night and let him sleep it off?” the elder woman asked as she began to dial the phone.

“Do you trust Barbara to keep her hands to herself—hey!” Mustang lunged from his stool to catch Ed before he completely slid to the floor. Once he had thrown one of Ed’s arms around his shoulders and hauled the younger man to his feet, Mustang frowned at his foster mother. “This kid has enough woman trouble already. His staying here would only make it worse.”

The large woman gave a harsh, but genuine laugh, “Agreed, Roy-boy!” She turned and started speaking into the phone’s mouthpiece, asking that the taxi company send a car to the bar’s address.

Mustang spent the next ten minutes trying to keep Ed sober enough so he wouldn’t need to be carried out to the taxi. Aside from tussling with Ed to help him put on his black long coat, the senior alchemist walked Ed around the bar in order to keep him awake. It was a relief when the taxi arrived, and after a final wrestling match, he managed to pour Ed into the back seat.

But Ed wasn’t as willing to let go so easily. At first he clung to Mustang’s lapels, his mouth working, trying to form words. When Mustang finally pried him off, Ed became just lucid enough to mutter, “Thnks, Roy. I…I appreeshiate…yur help.”

“Let’s see how much you appreciate it in the morning, Fullmetal,” Mustang taunted, “Especially when you wake up with a hangover. And to your brother. I’m calling ahead and letting him know you’re on your way.”

“No! Dnt’ tell Al!” There was genuine fear in Ed’s eyes and for a very brief instant, Mustang felt sorry for him. But only for an instant.

“Goodnight, Fullmetal.” Mustang shoved the car door closed, then handed some cenz to the cabbie as the man rolled down his window. “Military hotel. Keep the change.”

“Yes, sir! And thank you!” the driver responded before rolling his window up again.

As the car started to pull away from the curb, Mustang saw Ed press his face against the windowpane.

“Now you owe me for cab fare besides the 520 cenz, Fullmetal!”

Ed held up the middle finger of his automail hand before sliding out of sight and Mustang merely laughed.

Now he could enjoy spending some time with his foster mother in peace.