Rainy Day

It was raining, but that wasn't anything too unusual in England. Edward Elric had soon become used to the pitter-patter of little drops that came every two days or so. On days such as these, he sat in his rather cheap, run-down room, reading a book. However, he had run out of books, and just had to make a trip to the library. After all, he wasn't going to get home just sitting around, doing nothing. It seemed his library trip had taken too long, though, as they had to kick him out to leave. Standing in the rain would have been a bad idea for his automail limb. So, he took refuge in the only place open that late: a bar.

The place was rather dodgy, with an old, hunchback man for a bartender. The man looked up to nod absently at him, before going back to cleaning his glasses. Ed turned away from him, not planning on getting a drink, and spotted the only other customer in the room.

Ed frowned, studying the dark-haired man. He had his head on the table, a small amount of drool trickling from his mouth. His hand loosely clutched a bottle of what was probably alcohol. For a moment, Ed stood in the middle of the room, eyes glazing over as he remembered something similar. His feet were taking him closer–

-Closer, just a bit closer. Ed snickered, blonde hair falling over his near-matching, gold eyes, which were full of amusement. He gazed upon his commanding officer, grinning madly like the Cheshire Cat. It wasn't every day he saw the man dead to the world, and drooling, on top of that. So, what to do?

His grin widened, as the perfect idea came to his mind. Another step and he was standing right over the Colonel Bastard. Leaning in, he whispered–


The man jumped what must have been five feet in the air. "What the hell!" he snapped, causing the bartender to turn sharply around. When he saw it was nothing, he went back to cleaning. "What the hell was that for?"

Ed blinked, not even realizing what he had just done. Oh well. Best bit of fun he had in awhile. "Sorry, you looked a bit like someone I knew," he apologized, sliding into the seat across from the man, who was now looking at him with extreme suspicion. "My name's Ed." Since he was still looking at him with that same suspicion Ed said, "Look, I'll buy you a drink to make it up to you."

The man frowned a bit, but consented. "I'm Sirius. And what–"

"–are you doing here?" his commanding officer hissed.

"Sheesh, Mustang. No need to get your panties in a twist!" Ed laughed. "Just having a bit of fun, I thought you would appreciate that. Especially since you were complaining I was moping around last week."

Slightly recovered by now, Mustang was able to come up with a retort. "Well, your ridiculous face was putting a damper on the work day. You looked like one of those lost puppies your brother likes to pick up."

Ed scowled. "At least I don't drool," he countered.

It was now Mustang's turn to scowl, even as he hurriedly wiped off any remnants of saliva. "Not the point. Now, as I said, what–"

"Are you here for again?"

"Sirius? Your name is Sirius? As in Serious? Your mother must have been nuts," Edward rambled, completely ignoring the question.

Sirius sighed, dropping his unwelcoming position. "Unfortunately, you're quite right. Now, my question?"

"I was just bringing my report over."

Mustang arched an eyebrow. "Oh, were you?" he said, disbelief evident. "And is it written legibly this time?"

Ed just threw the paper he had tucked in his pocket at him. "Just read and get it over with, Bastard."

Mustang plucked the slightly crumpled paper off his desk, and proceeded to scan through the report. "You destroyed a bridge?" he commented finally.

"Minor issue," Ed said dismissively, waving his hand around.

"Minor? That bridge cost three hundred grand."

"Not my problem."

"Yes, your problem," Mustang emphasized. "And mine. As your superior, I have to take full responsibility for this."

"That would be a first then," remarked Ed snidely.

Mustang sighed. "Fullmetal, when are you going to stop going on these rampages?"

"When are you going to stop sending me on these stupid missions? And they are not rampages!" Ed added indignantly.

"As a part of the military, you are required to go on those stupid missions," Mustang reminded him. "And I think rampage is a good classification. Lately, every single mission has ended with a trail of destruction in your wake."

"I complete the damn missions, don't I?"


"Not the point."

"Your funding is going to have to be docked again for this," Mustang said abruptly.

"Why, you asshole –"

"This will not be my decision. Someone has to pay for the bridge, and that someone will have to be the military."


"What, no yelling?" Mustang asked.


"So, you've said," he acknowledged dryly. "Now, what are you really doing here?"

"Just getting out of the rain," replied Edward easily.

"Oh, really?" muttered Sirius. "Not a Death Eater?"

Death Eater? Ed thought to himself, before understanding dawned on him. He had stumbled into a Wizard bar.

It was a rather strange position Ed had. Ever since he had found out he didn't age past twenty, he had been moving from country to country. That meant he was fully aware of the close cousins of Alchemists, wizards. After witnessing a rather... disturbing... fashion trend in the United States, he had decided to move on over to England, where apparently a rather large population of wizards lived. This wasn't the first time he had chanced upon one of their bars. It was just the first time he had glimpsed a person who seemed like Mustang.

"No, I'm not. And even if I was, would I openly admit it?" Ed pointed out.

Sirius let out a frustrated noise. "I suppose not," he said grudgingly.

"So, you'll just have to accept my presence."

Shooting a mildly amused look, "Not until you get me my drink," Sirius corrected him.

Ed's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Of course."

"Here's your damn coffee." Ed slammed the offending cup in front of Mustang, causing some of the drink to spill on his desk.

"How kind of you, especially after waking me up."

"Yeah, yeah, if it'll get you off my back, then I'll do it," he grumbled.

Mustang snorted, sipping his coffee. "Sorry, but no. What are you doing up this late?"

"No reason..."

"Oh, really?"

How Ed hated that superior, knowing tone of voice. "Alright, so maybe I didn't want Al to worry about whatever stupid dream I had."

Surprisingly, Mustang did not make a sarcastic comment, and only nodded. Ed had to call him on that. Huffing, Mustang set his coffee down. "After going to war, many soldiers have nightmares. And as you were very young when... it... happened, I would not be surprised if the incident left traumatic imprints on your brain," he said bluntly.

"Great, I'm traumatized. What else is new?" Then, Ed blinked, becoming cognizant of the comprehension in his superior officer's voice. "Wait, you've had those dreams?"

"Hmph. Of course not."

"You're lying."

"I don't have to answer that."

Ed shot an identical knowing glance that Mustang often sent him, before going to get his own cup of coffee.

Sirius let out a sound of happiness, as he started to down his drink, seemingly unaffected by the drug. Ed rolled his eyes, not even wanting to think of the last time he had alcohol.

"So, if you're not a Death Eater, what side are you on?" Sirius suddenly asked.

"Uh, the good side?" Ed suggested, with another roll of his eyes. Of course, this was met with what seemed to be the man's main feeling of the day: suspicion. "Look, I know you aren't going to believe me."

"Then why try?"

"Because, I can."

A lopsided smile appeared on Sirius's face. "You remind me of Remus," he muttered to himself.


"Ah, a friend," the other man said, evading the question expertly.

"Right," Ed said, dragging out the word. "So, what are you doing here?"

Sirius didn't even seem to notice the tables had turned. "Drinking my guts out, as you can see." He demonstrated by throwing back the last of the drink. "Of course, Tom's only giving me the really light stuff. What a shame. James would've been able to get the heavy stuff from him."


Sirius blinked, and Ed could see him inwardly cursing himself for another slip-up. Then he relaxed a bit, as he apparently decided not to care. "Another friend. He's under house arrest." Sirius's mouth twitched into a smile, but finally seemed to figure out that the questioning had gone in a different way than expected. "What about you? Do you have friends?

"Why don't you go find some friends, Edward?" Mustang asked, absently looking through the rest of the report.

Edward blanched. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm in the fricking military," he snapped.

Mustang paused, going over what he had said before. "Ah..." he said. "My bad."

"Yep, your bad," Edward agreed, inwardly happy that he had not only one-upped the man once, but twice, in one night.

"They're not around here," Edward muttered.

"Mm," was all Sirius said. "Well, then why did you bother me?"

"I was bored," Ed admitted irately. "And this was the only real place open at eleven."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Ed sure as hell wasn't going to say that he enjoyed the constant bantering. Or that he thought Mustang wasn't too terrible sometimes. No. Not at all. In fact, he didn't think that at all. No way in hell. And Mustang better not think that, because if he did, Edward would quickly discourage him of that notion.

"Great, kid. Thanks. I was having a wonderful nap, and you ruin it out of boredom," said Sirius, irritated.

"You got that right." Ed cast a glance out to the windows. "Hm, it looks like the rain's letting up. Thanks for the conversation."

Thanks for the memories; he corrected himself in the back of his mind. And thus, Edward left a bemused Sirius to his own thoughts, wondering what just happened.

"You're a strange kid, Fullmetal," Mustang said finally.

"I'm not a kid. I'm a dog of the military," Edward said flatly.

Mustang chuckled at that one. "Yes, I suppose you are. Now, get out of my office, and get back to sleep."

"Humph. I was going to do that, anyway."

Bastard, Ed thought fondly. When he fell onto his lumpy bed in his apartment, sleep overtook him. With sleep, came dreams of a land far, far away, in a place he might never reach again.

Note: For clarification, this is STAYING a one-shot. It used to be a one-shot turned fic that spiraled out of control. It stops here and won't be continued. Hope you liked it!