Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Just a wee sequence that popped into me brain :) Hope you enjoy!

Yeo!


Roy glanced down to his right as he felt his wife shift and fidget beside him. It was an impossibly balmy night and although he was bearing it out, Riza was having more trouble. He could tell by the twist in the thin sheet that her foot had become caught and she huffed as she tried to loosen it, her face gleaming with sweat.

He smiled cockily at his own cool in the muggy heat and returned his gaze to his book. His smile soon dropped away however as he heard something that sounded an awful lot like, 'smug bastard' emanate from the writhing mass of sticky blonde hair and swollen tummy beside him.

She was only five months into her third pregnancy but she was already massive. On their last visit to the clinic, she had tried to convince the doctor that she was carrying triplets. She felt it in her waters apparently, despite what the check-ups showed – Roy made a face at the uncanny witchery of the way women spoke about pregnancies.

"What's that face for?" Riza asked, finally untangling herself from the sweat damp sheet.

Roy tried his hardest to repress a smirk. "Just a funny line in my book."

Amber eyes glared. "Handbook of Elastic Properties of Solids, Liquids, and Gases, Volume Three?"

Roy paused as he considered his next move. He thanked God for his years spent playing chess. "Have I told you how wonderful you look tonight?"

Riza threw the sheet up in the air and let it settle again, revelling in the cool draft it created. "You're a terrible liar."

"I'm a great liar."

"Not under this roof."

Roy looked down at her and felt a pang of guilt at her reddened cheeks and clear discomfort. She had taken to sleeping sitting upright in bed some nights she was so uncomfortable. He put his book aside and turned off the bedside lamp. He could feel her curious eyes on him. In one smooth movement, he lifted her towards him and leant her back against his torso.

The complete effortlessness with which he accomplished this move made Riza feel light: something which earned him automatic plus points. She hadn't felt light, dainty, delicate or anything other than huge for quite a while.

His right arm rested on her belly while his left left hand massaged her shoulder. She moaned and pressed herself closer to him.

"I'm big." She said.

"Yeap." He replied and wobbled her left breast cheekily.

She turned a wholly unimpressed eye to him. He swallowed and rubbed at her shoulder with more earnestness.

"You're beautiful." He said and kissed her neck where damp curls met smooth flesh.

"I'm fat."

"You're pregnant – Breda's fat."

"Roy-" His wife chastised, albeit through a slight chuckle.

Roy sighed and wrapped both arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. Already, he could feel both their bodies perspire with the contact. He couldn't say he wasn't enjoying it.

"It's too hot for this."

Roy moaned softly and kissed, then sucked on her ear. He spoke through a mumble.

"For this?"

The room was thrown into light.

"Daddy-" a sharp voice from the open doorway called.

Riza practically threw herself down on the bed and away from Roy.

Roy squinted at the two small figures standing in the doorway. His son stood resting his weight on one leg with all the boldness a six year old could muster. His little sister stood quietly by his side, ragged pink blanket in hand as always.

"Olly – why are you up?" He asked, glancing down at Riza who had obviously lost her mind from the heat and was pretending to be asleep. 'Coward,' Roy thought.

"Why are you sucking on Mummy's ear?" Came the reply.

"I'm not sucking on Mummy's ear. Mummy's asleep and you're going to wake her up and then she'll get mad and do the scary voice." Roy said, and winced when an elbow connected with his hip.

"You were sucking on it though." Olly started walking towards the bed, glancing about the room as though he had entered an ancient, mysterious tomb. His sister, Lia followed behind. "You were sucking on it like this." The boy proceeded to make a series of unflattering noises while sucking on his thumb.

Roy looked blankly at his son. Controlling the kids was Riza's forte. He was good at the stuff like swinging them around and doing 'the voices' when reading stories. He was not good, nor did he have any practice, at situations pertaining to avoiding the topic of sex; or 'love dancing' as Olly had come to call it. Where the six year old had occasion to conceive of, or use such a term was anyone's guess.

He had made his way onto the bed by this stage, slapping his hands down on the surface as he crawled between them. Sharp black eyes seemed to mock Roy as he made himself comfortable in the small space between husband and wife. With his back flat on the bed, he kicked two chubby legs in the air and started to cycle them clumsily.

"Olly..." Riza grumbled.

Olly stopped and dropped his legs back to the bed with a small thud.

"Dee dee dee dee dee-" He started singing without tune while walking a 'hand-spider' up his mother's back.

"Oliver!" Riza scolded. He stopped immediately.

Roy watched the scene unfold before him and while he was willing to sacrifice sleep for some quality 'love-dancing' with his wife, he was less willing to do so if he was going to be subjected to fake cycling and hand-spiders. Besides, with three in the bed the humidity would be unbearable. He made a sour face as he thought of the army council in the morning.

"Olly, go to bed." He said, trying his best to look stern. It is very hard to look stern in pyjamas and Olly knew it.

"I can't." Said the boy.

"You-" Roy was distracted by a light touch to his elbow. He looked down and saw Lia looking up at him with beseeching eyes. Where ever her brother went, she was bound to follow. Roy spoke as he lifted the girl from the floor and sat her on his lap, his tone exasperated.

"Why can't you go to bed?"

Olly Mustang considered this for a moment while playing with some of Riza's hair.

"Because..." He said, drawing the word out. "Because there are ghosts in my pillows."

Both Roy and Riza groaned at that answer.

"You don't believe in ghosts."

"Of course I do – I'm six."

Roy glanced at the clock and although it hadn't concerned him even ten minutes ago, he was now acutely aware that he should be sleeping.

"You don't – you told me so yourself... when I told you to brush your teeth or the ghosts would get you."

Olly turned and regarded his father with patronising eyes. "Yes but they're tooth ghosts. No one believes in those, only idiots. I'm talking about bed ghosts and there are – definitely – bed – ghosts – in – my – room."

Roy saw Riza's shoulders shake and knew that she was laughing. He was a General, State Alchemist and war veteran but there was no escaping the wayward logic of his first born. Everyone had been so excited when he and Riza shared the news of her pregnancy. Comments abounded of how beautiful, smart, funny (and terrifying) their children would be, but no one could ever have foreseen Oliver Mustang: he was the king of all rascals and had a tongue that could cut stone. Roy refuted any comments that the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

Lia slumped against Roy and started playing with the fingers of his right hand before tracing the solid, angry scar on his palm. Roy kissed the crown of her head.

"Okay you two. Bed."

"No." Olly said.

Riza turned around and gave her son a warning look.

"Don't say 'no' to your father."

Olly was incredulous. "You say 'no' to him!"

"That's what wives do: they say 'no' to husbands when they're being silly."

Olly smiled conspiratorially. "You say no to Daddy a lot." He said 'lot' with such obvious glee that Riza laughed aloud this time.

"Riza!" Roy practically squealed and Lia leapt in his arms. "Don't encourage him..." he added quietly.

A silence fell on them, with Lia continuing to finger at the raised, white bumps of his scarred hands. Olly snuggled under the sheet, intent on making himself at home for the night.

Riza sighed. "Olly, if you're going to sleep in here you have to be very, very still and very, very quiet – just like Mummy."

Olly hummed out his consideration of the offer before nodding. "Not all movey and noisy and snorey like Daddy. Nice and quiet and still and good like Mummy."

Roy rolled his eyes and shifted Lia onto the tiny space in the bed beside him before standing sharply and walking over to yank off the light. He thought on how he should really raise the cord a few inches – that would certainly go some way in preventing any further late night skirmishes to their room.

He climbed back into bed and found that with four bodies there now, there wasn't enough of the blanket to stretch over him. He pulled in a breath.

"Ri-"

"I think that out of Mummy and Daddy, Mummy is the best against ghosts." Olly said, his bright eyes dancing in the dark.

Lia nodded.

'Great,' Roy thought, 'Fantastic.'

"Shhh- Olly." Riza coaxed.

"Because before Daddy put another baby in Mummy's belly, Mummy was good at running around and kicking footballs and all actiony stuff. Whereas Daddy-" Olly gestured to Roy with his thumb. "Is all bookey and can never kick the ball in a straight line. So I think, Daddy, you'd be rubbish against ghosts, burglars and nasty things."

Roy turned on his side, away from the gang of conspirators. He had less trouble with the army council.

Riza sighed out a laugh, amused – apparently – by the reversal of fortunes. It was now Roy's turn for discomfort and body image. He really needed some sleep and the couch was beginning to look like a viable option. Or maybe he could face the pillow ghosts alone and sleep in his son's bed.

"And!" Olly stuck a finger in the air. "Mummy is all soft and light and round whereas Daddy's all hard and dark and flat. And Mummy has bigger noo-noos."

Roy snapped his head over his shoulder to chide. "Daddy doesn't have any noo-noos."

Riza sighed contentedly and Roy could swear she probably coached the boy to behave this way while he was at work.

"You do!" Olly declared, while Lia looked at Roy with affirming eyes. "Little, flat, nobbly brown noo-noos. They look like Hayate's nose but more flatter and browner, like dirt."

"Oh Roy-" Riza said and stretched her hand over her two children-come-accomplices to ruffle his hair.

"Is it too late for adoption?" Roy whined.

Olly took the liberty of answering on behalf of his mother. "You can't do that because Granny Christmas said she'd carrot you if you said that in front of me again."

"It's 'garrotte' sweetie." Riza corrected.

Roy looked at the clock again and made one last ditch attempt to pull the scant remainder of blanket over him. Failing miserably, he sat up and spoke over his brood to his wife.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch."

Riza sat up too, smiling apologetically. "Roy, don't be like that. He's just testing his boundaries."

"What boundaries? Drachma? Xing? The edge of the known world?"

"You're being dramatic." Riza's smile deepened. "Besides, he had to inherit his back-talking from one of us."

"I think Fullmetal probably posted it from Risembool." Roy huffed.

"And who did he learn it from?"

Both children were watching the interchange like spectators at a tennis match.

"Riza, I'm tired and despite all sense and experience, I love my son dearly so I'd prefer not to... carrot him with his shoelaces tonight."

"Roy!" Riza admonished.

Roy leant over and kissed her lightly on the lips. He then kissed a squirming Olly on the forehead. When he came to Lia, he lifted up her night shirt and blew a raspberry on her belly.

"Night night." He said, lifting the alarm clock from the bedside cabinet and a blanket from a hamper in the corner.

Riza found her lips pursing in petulance before accepting the wisdom of his decision. He really couldn't afford to mess around with sleep the night before a council meeting.

"Night Roy." She said quietly, then with more, somewhat mocking gusto. "Love you, Daddy."

A cheerful chorus from both children followed, "Love you, Daddy!"

Roy turned back. "I'm going to kill the pillow ghosts and sleep in your room if that's okay with you, Oliver?"

"You can try." Olly's voice chirped in the darkness. "There's a bit of wet in the middle of the bed but it's definitely not pee."

Roy exhaled. "Got it."

He made his way across the plush carpet of the landing and down the stairs, deciding that he would rather discover the truth of Olly's comment in the morning.

He climbed onto the couch and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

He thought on his family: on how seemingly impossible the prospect was only a few years before and on how comfortable it felt now, in spite of his son's best efforts. He knew at heart that Olly was a good child and was really just a little too smart for his own good. He dreaded to think what Edward Elric's children would be like if his own son was anything to go by. Then there was Lia – both children were the spitting image of their father but Lia was absolutely her mother's child in character. Quiet mannered, curious and polite, she could also hold her own when she needed to. All things considered, Roy Mustang's kids were pretty amazing.

He was distracted by the soft padding of feet behind him. He groaned and turned himself over to see the huge, black eyes of his daughter looking back at him. How, in her youth, Lia managed to convey so much with her eyes Roy would never know. A complex wash of request, sympathy and adoration coloured the deep black orbs.

"Hey kid, don't you want to stay with your Mummy? What are you doing down here away from Olly?"

Lia looked hesitant, then seemed to make up her mind and slipped under the sheet to lie against Roy.

"You're more Olly." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. Roy smiled at her logic. She took his hand in both of hers and raised it to her cheek, feeling the raised portion of his scar. "You have sad hands."

Roy looked at the back of Lia's head, interest and pride making his heart beat a little faster. "They're not sad anymore."

Lia accepted this with a nod of her head. "Me and Olly played a game today about alchests."

"Oh?" Roy asked, adjusting himself so that Lia's pointy elbow wasn't catching him quite as sharply in the ribs. Alchests? That was new.

"I wanted to be you but Olly said that only he was allowed to be you. So I had to be Mr Metal. Olly always wants to be you."

Roy smiled and held Lia closer to him. Having a family now, he finally got it – what Maes had been talking about all those years ago. He almost wished for the bright light of his old friend's camera flash as he snuggled against his beautiful daughter and drifted off to sleep.