A/N: Happy New Year everyone! Can you believe it 2017?! I can't. Anywho, here at last is the final chapter of what was supposed to be a short and sweet story. This chapter decided to be uncooperative and than go off in a completely different direction then originally planned. So this is chapter is basically pure fluff with angst thrown in here and there because it's Edward. It's just for you guys, especially darkraistlyn who inspired this detour with their lovely review. Speaking of, thank you guys so much for your reviews! They made my day and I'm so happy so many people have enjoyed this little fic.

This chapter is not beta'd so please forgive any mistakes and enjoy!

December 21, 1915 (post Promised Day)

"Are you sure you're warm enough, Al?"

The younger Elric brother sighed, exasperated. "I'm fine, Ed. Quit worrying. It's just a little snow, not a blizzard like they have in North City."

"Yeah, well, just making sure," Edward mumbled, fidgeting with his coat. Alphonse had his human body back for just over six months now and it was still taking adjusting, for both brothers. Edward had not realized how much he hadn't had to worry about Al until all the human necessities returned. He tried not to, and he was moderately successful in his opinion considering it was his younger brother and he was the older and it was his job to worry. Al probably disagreed judging by how often he was told to quit worrying.

He huffed and glared ahead at their destination as it loomed ahead of them.

The Elric brothers were on their way to Eastern Headquarters to surprise General Roy Mustang. After everything that happened earlier in the year, Edward had almost completely forgotten about the Elric brothers' Secret Santa. He'd only remembered when, while unpacking his old suitcase, he'd come across the recipe book for Alphonse. After giving it to his younger brother, and reveling in being able to touch flesh and bone instead of metal, Edward had told Al the whole story about finding the gifts at the safe house up north.

Alphonse had been thrilled with his present and when learning all the presents over the years were from Mustang, he had been determined to give the man something in return. Naturally Edward had argued because it was Mustang. What were they going to get him? The gifts they'd been given had been clearly chosen with care to suit the brothers' individual tastes and interests. They knew nothing about Mustang's interests, not really. He may have been Ed's commanding officer for years, but the only real personal things Ed had ever learned about the man were from second hand sources, namely Hawkeye. It had taken them weeks to figure out what to get Mustang and no small amount of frustration. All Edward knew was the jerk better appreciate this.

It was warmer inside, though not by much. Probably because most of the soldiers had gone home to spend the holiday with their families, Edward mused. He nearly halted mid-step. He had not even thought to call ahead to confirm that Mustang would be at the office. What if he'd already left? No, the man didn't have any family. Well, there was Hawkeye…

Edward immediately put a stop to those thoughts. Nope, not going there. Mustang would be here. He had to. They just had to find his new office.

"Damn it, where is it?" Edward growled.

To his annoyance, Alphonse laughed. "Down here, brother. I asked for directions while you were brooding."

Heat fused Edward's face. "I wasn't brooding! I was just…thinking"

"Oh yeah? About what?" Al asked.

"About, you know, stuff."

"That's called brooding."

"Shut up, Al!"

His little brother laughed again, grinning cheekily at him.

"Well that's a sound to hear."

The brothers looked up. "General Mustang!"

The aforementioned man was closing the door of his office, coat over his arm and hat in hand. "Hello Fullmetal. Alphonse. What brings you here so late? Shouldn't you be at home with the Rockbells?"

Confronted with Mustang's dark, inquiring gaze both boys found it difficult to speak.

"Uh yeah, well, you see…"

"Um…"

Mustang's eyebrow went up at their stuttering.

"Hmm, eloquent as ever I see." Mustang said, chuckling as he put on his over coat and hat. "I'm heading home. Was there something you needed?"

Again the brothers fumbled with their words.

Finally Al blurted, "Can we go with you? There's—there's something we want to talk with you about."

Mustang blinked, clearly surprised by the request. "I suppose that's all right if it's that urgent. Come along then. We need to get going before the snow gets worse."

The two teens and man hurried outside. Just like Mustang had predicted the snow fall was increasing. The whole drive to Mustang's house had the brothers clinging to front seat from behind. Edward would have blamed Mustang's poor driving skills except the roads really were bad and the few other cars on the road were having just as bad a time. All three sighed with relief when they reached the townhouse.

Mustang's house was nothing like Edward expected. For one, the townhouse was quite clean and furnished tastefully, yet comfortably. Actually, if he wasn't mistaken, the couch in the living room was the same one from Mustang's office. He and Al were sitting on it, waiting while Mustang prepared them all hot drinks. Since he'd only been in the kitchen a few minutes before he came back, Edward guessed the bastard had used his flame alchemy to heat everything faster.

He accepted a steaming cup and looked in it, surprised to find it was hot chocolate and not tea. Taking a sip, Edward was pleasantly surprised at how good it was.

Beside him, Al hummed with delight. "Thanks!"

Sitting in a chair across from them, Mustang casually crossed a leg over his knee and sampled his drink. Then he said, "Now what was so urgent that you decided to come all the way East City and not call?"

"Uh, you see it's not just something we wanted to talk with you about. We, um, we also kinda wanted to," Al trailed off and looked at Ed, silently pleading.

"We wanted to ask you about being our Secret Santa," he said, glaring at the man. The older teen was tired of dancing around the issue. It was awkward, but so was being in Mustang's house and Edward just didn't care at this point.

"Secret Santa? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play games," Edward snapped, not in the mood for the general's evasiveness. "Al and I have been getting presents from someone every year for Yule since I joined the military. You've been giving them to us."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Despite the casual denial, Edward could have sworn the man's dark eyes were laughing. The rest of his visage was puzzled and innocent. Edward wasn't buying it for a second. Al apparently wasn't either because he spoke up. "Two years ago I received a stuffed cat. Homemade. You used the red thread from your gloves on the mouth."

"Oh? I don't recall sewing anything like that."

"Before that it was books for brother and me. You gave me these amazing books called The Warriors about this clan of cats—"

"And you gave me two volumes of Sherlock Holmes," Edward cut in. "The detective from some fictional place called London."

"Indeed? Are these the books you kept reading when you were in the hospital, Fullmetal? I thought all you read were alchemy texts."

"Quite denying it!" Edward yelled, jumping to his feet and pointing an accusing finger at the older alchemist. He refused to play this game anymore. "You know exactly what we're talking about. And I want to know why! Why'd you give us presents? Why Mustang?"

Mustang's expression became shrouded. The teen couldn't read him at all and that disconcerted him to no end. "Ed," Al hissed, grabbing at his arm, but Edward shook him off. "Why'd you do it? There—there was nothing in it for you."

"And gifts are all about receiving something in return, aren't they?"

The sudden coldness in the man's voice was like a slap to the face. Edward shriveled under Mustang's disapproving gaze, his anger dying away, leaving a hollow pit in his stomach.

"No, no I—I just—I don't understand," Edward whispered, lowering his head as he sank back onto the couch. "Why?"

Roy Mustang had been cold and manipulative and had constantly teased him about his height. How could that same man then turn around and give the brothers such great presents? It made no sense when he realized it was Mustang a year ago and it still didn't. Edward knew Mustang cared, had seen how far the man would go for those he cared for, but he didn't know what to do with that care being directed toward him and his brother.

"Why not?"

Edward's gaze snapped up to meet Mustang's. The General was watching him, features surprisingly soft with understanding. "The purpose of a gift is not to receive something in return. It simply is what it is: a gift. No more and no less."

Something in Mustang's tone and his words hit home and shook Edward to his core.

"Granny said this Secret Santa junk was something parents did for their children," Edward blurted out, not ready to let it go. "So why would you do something like that for us?"

That was the heart of the matter, the part that irritated Edward to no end. It had bothered him ever since Granny had explained what the Secret Santa was.

"Do I need a reason?"

"Yes! You always have a reason for the crap you do."

"Fine. I wanted to." Mustang shrugged his shoulders like it wasn't that big of a deal and took a sip from his mug. That was not the answer Edward was expecting. Granted, what did he really expect? It was Mustang for crying out loud. But his reasoning was just not satisfactory. There had to be more to it, right?

"What? So you played Secret Santa for us for years just because you felt like it?"

"Pretty much."

Edward spluttered in disbelief.

"This is for you, sir," Al said, speaking up over his brother. Shyly, he handed Mustang the package he'd been carrying in his suitcase. The younger teen had snuck it out while their host had been getting their drinks. "We-we wanted to thank you for, you know, everything."

"Uh, thanks," Mustang murmured, shocked. He held the package gingerly as if he didn't know what to do with it.

"Well open it already!" Edward demanded, ignoring the sharp look he received from Alphonse. He was ready to get this humiliation over with and get out of here.

The older man did just that. The paper torn off, he froze as he held a picture frame in his hand. Edward grimaced. Their gift was so damn sentimental, it was embarrassing. He'd fully expected the general to make some sarcastic comment, only he didn't make a sound. Mustang stared at the picture in silence, emotions crossing his face too fast for Edward to read before disappearing.

Edward and Alphonse exchanged uneasy looks.

"Thank you," Mustang said at last, the sincerity in his words erasing any doubts that he might not like their gift. Al smiled, relieved, while Edward huffed, took a sip of his drink and looked away.

Just then Alphonse stomach decided growl, ending the awkward silence that had fallen. "Oh, um, sorry about that," Al said, blushing.

But the older man didn't seem bothered in the slightest. In fact, Mustang chuckled and set the picture frame on the side table by his chair. "Did you boys eat?"

The brothers shook their head in the negative. Quite simply, they'd forgotten in anticipation of meeting with the general. Edward was pretty sure they'd eaten lunch, but had completely forgotten about dinner. Now that he thought about it, he was really hungry. Mustang stood. "I'll make dinner then."

"Oh, can we try one of my recipes please?" Al asked eagerly.

"If I have the ingredients, I don't see why not."

"Awesome!"

Edward watched as his younger brother excitedly pulled the recipe book from his bag and handed it to Mustang. The dark haired man accepted it gravely and began flipping through the pages before settling on a recipe. He showed it to Al who nodded, practically bouncing where he stood. The two headed towards the kitchen and Edward watched them go. Then he glanced at the framed photograph they'd given Mustang. It was a candid shot of the brothers, Mustang, and Hawkeye in the courtyard at headquarters. It had been a beautiful spring day and apparently Mustang had been going crazy cooped up inside and wheedled Hawkeye into letting him do his paperwork outside.

Back from a mission, Ed and Al had been told they could find the colonel outside with Hawkeye. So while Edward gave his report to the colonel, Al had been playing with the lieutenant's dog, Black Hayate. As expected Mustang and Edward had been sniping at each other, but at one point both had grinned. That was the moment caught on film. The two of them smiling while Al sat with the dog and Hawkeye standing beside the bench, looking at all of them with a soft look in her brown eyes and a smile on her lips. It had not lasted of course. Hughes had come over then and things had naturally dissolved into chaos. None of them knew about the picture Hughes had taken before making his grand entrance.

Winry was the one who'd finally suggested the brothers give the colonel a picture of all of them. It was way too sentimental and yet they couldn't think of anything else that expressed their gratitude. So Al had called Gracia Hughes. A week later a letter arrived with the picture inside. They designed a metal frame and then Al transmuted it so they could tuck the picture inside. The frame was as cheesy as the picture in Ed's opinion. It had Ed and Al's alchemy symbol in the bottom right corner, a salamander in the upper right, a hawk in the top left corner, and all the chess pieces from king to pawn in the bottom left. All things that meant something to the brothers and the general.

"Come on, Brother!"

Al's call broke Edward from his thoughts.

"Did you get lost in there?" Mustang added. "Get in here, shortie!"

"Who are you calling a half pint, bean sprout midget, you jerk!"

Sometime during the meal it had been decided the Elric brothers were spending the night. Edward didn't know when this decision was made and he wasn't sure it was a good idea. But one look outside and the still falling snow convinced him it was the better option. His automail leg still caused him some trouble in snow and he was in no mood to go wading through it this late. So he had swallowed his grumbling and accepted the general's hospitality.

Unfortunately, Edward couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned for hours but his mind wouldn't quit racing. Across the room, Al was sleeping soundly. The younger boy loved experiencing everything after so many years as armor unable to enjoy even the simplest pleasures. Ed ignored the tinge of guilt he felt. He'd kept his promise and gotten Al's body back. And his brother was happy and loving life. Including sleeping deeply and soundly, unlike him.

Sighing, Ed gave up. There was no way he was going to sleep right now. He pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed. Earlier he remembered seeing a bookshelf in the living room. He'd just read for a couple hours and hopefully that would help him sleep. He was not wishing he'd brought his Sherlock Holmes books, nope, not at all.

As he climbed down the stairs he was surprised to see a warm glow coming from the living room. Was the fire still going? He squinted at glance at the clock hanging on the wall and showed it was well after midnight. Edward frowned and peaked into the room. A familiar figure was at the fireplace, feeding it wood.

"Colonel?"

"That's General to you, shrimp," came the calm response.

"I'm not short!" Edward hissed, hands balling into fists as he fully stepped into the room. "Bastard."

Mustang only smirked at him before turning and putting another log in the fireplace. He seemed completely unconcerned that Edward was awake and wandering around his house at such a late hour. Watching the man's back, Edward's ire drained away. He swallowed and bit his lip. While he had not anticipated the older man would be awake, it was a good time to try to ask again why.

"Mustang," he said, trying and failing again to find the words he needed. The teen rubbed the back of his head in frustration. What was the matter with him? It was just a simple question and all of a sudden he couldn't ask it?

The man had stood and turned, curious. Seeing Edward's discomfort, Mustang shook his head and walked over to him. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed. Gold eyes met obsidian ones. "Sometimes things just are, Edward. I care about you and your brother. I gave you gifts because I wanted to."

He got it then, heard what Mustang didn't say, what he would never say aloud. It was something understood and unspoken; a promise that had been there since the moment Edward had come under the colonel's command. He'd just been too naïve to recognize it, though he'd subconsciously relied on the security it brought. As the man moved by, Ed caught a glimpse of the couch in the firelight. There were two wrapped packages waiting on it. While he couldn't see for sure, Edward knew one would have his name and the other his brother's.

Moving before he was fully aware of what he was doing, Edward grabbed Mustang from behind. The general grunted, surprised and turned partially allowing Edward to press his head into the man's chest. For a moment Edward feared Mustang would pull away but then two strong arms wrapped around him, returning the embrace. He tightened his grip on the man's shirt, hoping Mustang would understand what Ed couldn't say. The arms tightened around him in response and a hand rested on his head. Edward sighed, feeling safe and secure like he hadn't since his mother died.

Then the moment ended and Edward let go and stepped back. Biting the inside of his lip, he looked up and found Mustang smiling.

"We're never talking about that," Edward declared, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Of course not," Mustang agreed. Then he ruffled the teen's hair. "Good night, Ed."

"Good night," Edward whispered, watching the man disappear upstairs. "Dad."

Fin

And that's a wrap. See, told you it was fluff. I forgot to mention cheesy though. Oh well. :D Thank you so much for reading ya'll! Best wishes to you for the new year!