Author’s Note: A very happy birthday to Mocha! Hope you enjoy this one-shot. I apologize for it being ridiculously short.

Disclaimer: Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist.
Warnings: Spoiler for episode 25; angst; slight AU; Roy/Ed

by Gogo-chan

Thursday evening was always the night that Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang would have a drink with Major Maes Hughes.

It was never anything too strong; there was still work the next day. And never anything too pricey; the liquor wasn’t much to brag about.

Still, the two friends would take their usual place at the bar, and order two drinks. They usually changed their choice now and then; the same liquor for too long would taste dull, and bland in their mouths. However, it was not the liquor that mattered; it was the time they spent, talking about everything from literature to politics.

When Maes Hughes was promoted lieutenant colonel, his free time was considerably shortened. Yet, rain or shine, he would still show up every Thursday, armed with information and the latest family pictures he had to flaunt.

When Roy was promoted to colonel and transferred to the East City Headquarters, they thought that that would be the end of their meetings. However, they arranged to meet up every other Thursday and therefore somewhat keep things the same.

Even when he was investigating Liore, Ishbal, and keeping unsettling information of the Elric brothers away from the colonel, Maes Hughes showed up as cheerful as always. He even found time to sneak a phone call or two to check up on his friend, and offer unwanted advice.

It was cool and misty the last night the two friends met. It was only a few days after that Roy Mustang spoke to the lieutenant colonel for the last time. The last phone call he had with his friend had given him an odd, foreboding feeling. It was only when he arrived at Central Station that he was told that Maes Hughes had been killed in the line of duty.

It was with a stiff face that Roy watched the mounds of dirt slowly pile upon the coffin. Roy remembered that it had rained that day.

After the funeral, he took a silent, lonesome train ride back to East City. Hawkeye had offered to accompany him, but he politely declined. She silently understood and saluted, and returned to Central for the night, leaving the colonel alone.

Roy spent that night home in silence, with only a bottle of scotch and glass to keep him company. Still, he arrived at East City Headquarters the next morning on time, sober and quieter than his subordinates had ever seen him. It was easy to ignore his hangover when Breda and Havoc were trying to figure out how to use their paperclips as weapons before Hawkeye came in.

After that, at least one day every other week, namely a Thursday, Roy found himself alone with scotch for an entire night.

A year or so later, Colonel Roy Mustang found himself shaking free of a blurry memory as he was getting ready to retire home for the night. He then realized, belatedly, that there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” He spoke out of habit. He looked up to see a short, blonde boy trudging in reluctantly, and shutting the door. Edward Elric saluted lazily, and it was with curiosity that Roy took notice of the black eye Fullmetal was sporting.

“Who did you insult this time?” He asked as the old habit of annoying Fullmetal returned slightly again, as Edward sat himself on the couch perpendicular to Roy’s desk. It was obvious that Fullmetal took no note that Mustang was nearly ready to leave, and planned on sitting comfortably until he felt like getting up.

“No one,” Edward replied shortly.

“Right,” Roy answered, suddenly feeling the urge to tease slink away as quickly as it had come. Blurred memories started inching to his eyes again, and he merely stared at Edward for a moment before he spoke.

“Report tomorrow after—”

“You were drinking scotch last night, weren’t you,” Ed spoke quietly, looking at the coffee table in front of him.

The colonel was quiet for a moment, and said, “Yes.”

“…You could stop you know,” Ed said, keeping his voice low. “You could stop.”

Roy stood up from his desk, and only replied, “Report tomorrow afternoon. And borrow Havoc’s typewriter; I’m not in much of a mood to decipher the scribbles you call writing.”

“Why haven’t you gotten over it?” Ed spoke, and looked the colonel into the eyes.

Silence reigned again, and Roy stood still for a while, before walking over to his subordinate. “Please, go to your dorm, Fullmetal—”

“Don’t change the subject!” Edward shouted as he stood, looking up at the colonel.

“Fullmetal, I hope I needn’t remind you of the time—” Roy spoke firmly, and glanced at the wall clock. “—which is nearing half past ten.” Fullmetal was doing something unpleasant: annoying the colonel.

“I see,” Edward muttered bitterly, “Get rid of the kid so you can head home, and sink into your lousy depression, getting drunk and moping about someone who’s DEAD!”

“Edward,” Roy said sternly, and Fullmetal started a bit at the usage of his actual name. “I am only going to ask you once to shut your mouth and get out. You are nearing a line you have no right to cross; no matter how privileged you think you are. You are visibly tired, and should therefore resign to sleeping in your dorm tonight.”

Gathering what courage he had, Edward did what he believed would be his last action before Mustang killed him. Without so much as a warning, he plowed down his commanding officer like a star quarterback, knocking him against his desk and landing himself in his lap.

Gritting his teeth which were skillfully containing a curse inside of him, he set murderous eyes onto Edward. He stopped, however, when he realized that the boy had managed to latch his arms onto him; it seemed as if Fullmetal had absolutely no intention of letting go.

“Fullmetal—”

“Talking with someone is a pretty good substitute for drowning your miseries in scotch,” Edward mumbled against his uniform.

Mustang looked at the blonde-haired alchemist stuck to him, and let out a sigh. With strength he gathered from nowhere, Mustang stood up, hauling Edward up with him. When he was standing straight, Ed relieved him and looked at him. “Al said he would be in the library tonight.”

When Fullmetal didn’t yield, Roy backed away, and headed to the door. He cracked it open slightly. The hallways were bare; even Hawkeye had retired for the night.

Breathing in, Colonel Mustang turned around to face Edward Elric with a blank face. “Fullmetal, let’s go,” he said, and walked out, hearing footsteps trail behind him.

The smallest of quirks raised the corner of his mouth as he smiled; it seemed he was in for another tiresome night of chess with Fullmetal.

Mustang preferred Edward Elric’s company instead that of scotch any day.

Fin