DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, and I am in no way affiliated with the author(s), producer(s) or publisher(s). I am writing strictly for entertainment purposes with no material or monetary gain.

A/N: AU-Al has his body back and Edward works for Mustang in Central. Alphonse lives with his brother and works a civilian job.

Two and Two make Fourteen

Edward had seen Roy Mustang's desk in various states of disarray in the past—sometimes almost clear, but more frequently with a thick stack of paper on it, occasionally with multiple stacks, in which case Hawkeye was standing behind him with her pistol drawn. Once, long ago, Ed remembered shoving all of the paper off of his desk in a fit of fury; that was the only time its polished surface was entirely clean.

However this cold, clear day of February, 1917, he saw Mustang's desk in a state he never could have imagined. Every inch of it was covered, the mounds of envelopes on top of it and the mountains of presents on the floor surrounding it almost hiding the desk from view completely.

Edward could only stare.

"It gets worse every year," Hawkeye told him wearily.

"Isn't Valentine's day tomorrow?" he asked in disbelief as he peered into the office from the doorway.

"Yes…there will be twice this much by then," she said, moving back to her own workspace.

"That's got to be the entire female population of Central," he said, taking a last look before following the Lieutenant. "Except you," he added quickly.

"Wrong on both counts, I'm afraid, Edward," she said with a smile. "Firstly, those are hardly from only Central. A good third of them are from East City, and the others are from…" She waved a hand indiscriminately. "All over. Secondly, my Valentine is in that stack as well."

"Really?" he asked, trying not to let his eyebrows climb too high in surprise.

"Yes. The general gives all of his staff cards, and he usually gives me chocolate, too, so I send something back. It's his favorite holiday, as you can imagine."

"Of course it would be, the stuck-up assho--"

"Edward," Hawkeye warned, though there was no real severity in her tone. "There's one here for you, too, I would think," she said, turning to a small stack of envelopes and beginning to flick through them.

Ed felt a stab of excitement as he watched. It was just a stupid excuse for people to spend money and get mushy, he knew, but he couldn't help the butterflies in his stomach. What would the general say in it?

He saw his brother's name flick by, and that was the end of the stack. Ed's heart sank.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was mistaken," said Riza with a frown.

"Don't be! As if I'd want one," he said, turning away and trying to put the proper amount of disgust in his tone. He fingered the card in his pocket thoughtfully. He'd thought maybe…just because they'd been getting on so well this past year, and sometimes he thought he saw…something in Mustang's eyes, and there was this tension that was begging to be broken….

But evidently he was wrong. Besides, it was just a stupid card for a stupid holiday. He obviously had received more than enough, and he wasn't about to let Mustang tease him about this expression of his apparently unrequited attraction.

"Alright, well, since he's not in I'll just talk to him on Monday," Edward said, pushing off from Hawkeye's desk and heading for the door.

"He'll be back shortly," she assured.

"He's got more than enough to get through," Edward pointed out, nodding to the door of his office. "I'll just report after the weekend is over. See you, Lieutenant." He left the outer office and headed down the stairs, buttoning up his coat as he did so.

Ed shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat as he stepped out into the falling snow, trying hard to ignore his disappointment. He'd spent his last six Valentine's days in the library; what would one more hurt?

February 14th.

Hawkeye escorted Mustang to his seat at the pile of paper that was his desk. After yesterday, she had been keeping him under close supervision at all times, insisting that he was going to get all of the work done, no matter how long he had to stay. It was already well past quitting time, on Valentine's Day no less, but no matter how he tried to plead with her she would steer him back to his paperwork. He had to sneak out yesterday after lunch- otherwise he wouldn't have been able to pick up the present he'd ordered for his soon-to-be Valentine.

Roy gave a sigh as he looked at his work sadly, perched atop its bed of pink and red, as depressingly formal and boring as always. He scooted in to his desk, and the toe of his boot tapped against the parcel he had picked up, hidden on the floor beneath. Roy resisted the urge to smirk. At least he still had one thing to look forward to….

But he didn't come. Mustang waited and waited, actually getting work done despite himself, thinking perhaps the boy was just trying to make a point by being late, as he sometimes did when he was younger. When the clock struck nine he began to wonder if he was coming at all. He 

knew he had to report, and Mustang had told him to come today. Hell, that was the whole reason he'd risked Hawkeye's wrath with his stunt yesterday. Roy scowled down at his papers as the lieutenant came in to deliver the next bunch of them. He'd thought he and Ed were getting along well; they hadn't really fought in months, and he had stopped claiming to hate him altogether. If he was properly interpreting the signals Ed was sending, there was a chance that, if he began to court him now, within a few months they might be somewhere. He'd had everything planned perfectly-- the holiday giving him the perfect cover just in case he'd been wrong—and if he didn't come it was all spoilt.

He glanced up to find Hawkeye watching him from the doorway,

"General…" she began, her expression thoughtful and curious. "Why didn't you write a card for Edward?"

Mustang schooled his face carefully. As intuitive as she was, she couldn't have known what he was just thinking.

"Why should it matter?"

"Well, you wrote one for all the rest of us, and even Alphonse," she said. "Of course Edward tried not to show it, but I think he was a bit put out by it."

Mustang blinked as his brain processed what she had just said, and then his body leapt up of its own accord.

"Fullmetal was here?!" he demanded.

"Yes, sir," she responded after a moment, looking alarmed by his vehemence. "He came to report yesterday, but seeing as you were absent, he decided to deliver it on Monday instead."

Roy ran a hand through his hair, thoughts whirling through his head. Damn it…!

"He didn't forget you, it would seem," she said, her frosty tone thawing somewhat as she nodded to somewhere on his homelessly cluttered desk. "Alphonse brought both his and Edward's this morning, before he headed back to his hometown."

"Ah. Well, I will apologize to Fullmetal when he comes to deliver his report," he said hurriedly. "I'd best get back to my work."

Hawkeye nodded, looking rather suspicious, but then retreated to the outer office.

Immediately Mustang began to dig through the envelopes frantically, spilling several of the older ones to the floor. He tossed a teddy bear aside in frustration, eyes darting from address to address, searching for Fullmetal's messy scrawl. She said they'd arrived this morning, so they couldn't be too far buried--

"Sir?"

The general snapped his hands to his sides and looked up to find Hawkeye had paused in her closing of the door to look back in.

"Yes, lieutenant?" He was rather impressed at how calm his voice sounded.

Riza was wearing a rather amused expression, mixed with equal parts confusion and concern.

"They were cream-colored envelopes," she said.

Mustang willed himself not to blush and cleared his throat.

"Ah. Yes. Thank you."

With a final smile she closed the door and Mustang flopped down into his seat with a groan, pressing his hands firmly over his eyes. With a sigh he pushed his embarrassment aside and returned to his task, looking this time for the proper color. Soon enough he found them, Alphonse's rubber-banded to the top of Edward's. He ripped open the top one first, because doing so made him feel a bit less guilty. On the front were some rather elegant red roses, and it neatly wished him a happy holiday and that he find someone special with which to share it. Classic Al. At the bottom, however, was an addendum that seemed to have been hastily written.

The one beneath is from brother. I found it inside his waste-paper basket yesterday. I thought it would be a shame not to give it to you, since it took him three hours to write.

Roy could almost hear Alphonse's smile, and he grinned conspiratorially back at the card before turning to his subordinate's. It was distinctly crumpled, and had apparently been smoothed out again by Al. He opened it, glancing at the front, which was completely devoid of anything Valentine's-related. The inside read,

General Mustang,

I've really enjoyed working with you this year and I'd like to get to know you better.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Fullmetal

Roy felt a peculiar giddy rush in his stomach, and read the words twice, thrice, four times. To anyone else it might seem to be a rather mundane card from an officer to his general, but Roy knew better. By Edward's standards when it came to expressing his feelings (except for anger, that is), it was very bold. He might have shouted his affections in the town square for all this said about Roy's chances with him.

Then, as quickly as his hopes had soared, his stomach dropped as he realized what must have happened. Ed wrote the card and came to headquarters, but finding none in return, he had gone home and thrown it away….

Mustang glanced up at the clock. It was almost ten. He had to get his Valentine to Edward before he convinced himself he had imagined the chemistry between them. Roy couldn't lose his chance before he'd even begun! Setting Edward's card safely aside, Mustang flipped through the stack of paper and let out a curse before grabbing his pen and letting it dash across the paper.

Hawkeye arched a brow at the colorful word the colonel spat behind his office door. He was acting strangely, more so than even she had seen in past. Although two and two quite easily made four, she wasn't quite ready to jump to the obvious conclusion. Hawkeye had, of course, noticed the change in the way Flame and Fullmetal related…everyone had. Broken doors, long strings of curses, rants about height and Mustang's irritated frown had disappeared over the last year. Now the two State Alchemists had a much calmer, more stable relationship, though the occasional spat was to be expected. She had even, every so often, caught Edward speaking well of his commanding officer, which Riza had been skeptical would ever happen. Mustang had always been protective and fond of both of the boys, though she would admit recently he seemed more so of the elder. Once and a while she would catch the two of them exchanging glances….

Regardless, that was insufficient evidence to imply any inappropriate feelings had surfaced in either of them. That was what Hawkeye's logic firmly told her.

Her intuition, on the other hand, called her a fool for not paying more attention to all those clues along the way, and insisted that this proved once and for all that her superior officer had fallen for Edward Elric, and hard.

She looked again to the office door and considered. If he were to make advances on Edward, how would she feel about it? Riza supposed she ought to feel some measure of concern for the boy, given the general's reputation, but she didn't. She had just seen him tear through his desk in search of a valentine, of all things, and then blush like a schoolboy when caught at it. If Mustang really was in love, that evened the playing field considerably. And though Edward had a gentle heart, he would have no problem kicking Roy's ass were he to get out of line.

At that thought, Hawkeye grinned. Perhaps two and two would make four quite nicely after all.

Mustang grabbed his coat, Edward's present, and the papers and bolted out of his office before the ink of his final signature was even dry. It had taken him far too long to get the urgent papers done, and he was running out of time. He screeched to a halt in front of Hawkeye's desk as gracefully as possible and deposited the stack on the desk before her.

"Here you are. Thank you, lieutenant," he said before turning toward the door.

"Sir," she said in a warning tone, and he winced, squeezing his eyes shut.

Shit.

"Yes?"

"This isn't all of the paperwork you needed to complete."

The general turned back to face her, putting on his most intimidating Commanding Officer Face.

"I've completed that which was overdue; the rest can wait," he said in his best end-of-story tone.

Hawkeye raised an eyebrow at him, one hand coming to rest on her hip, dangerously close to her holster.

"Exactly- the overdue papers. Now you need to sit back down and complete the rest of them BEFORE they become overdue." Her lips were pressed together firmly in a displeased frown and her eyes were hard as steel, telling him once again that no matter how high in rank he rose, she would kick his ego right back down to where he belonged.

Roy sighed and dropped his professional manner.

"I have to take care of something," he said, glancing to the clock. "I really need to go..." he begged, but her expression didn't change. Swallowing his pride, Roy took a deep breath. "Please? Please, Riza, let me go?"

She let out a sigh of her own and crossed her arms over her chest, though her lips twitched up in a smile.

"Don't make me regret this," she warned.

"I won't," he promised gratefully, pulling on his coat hurriedly. "Shit," he breathed as he saw it was already past eleven.

"Do you need a ride?" Hawkeye asked as she stood, eyes twinkling in amusement. "To the library, perhaps? They extended their hours recently."

"No, thank you," he said distractedly. "Have a good evening, lieutenant." With that he turned and left, oblivious to the way she laughed and shook her head. Mustang swiftly descended the stairs, the fly-away of his uniform and his greatcoat billowing out behind him, and began to stalk toward Edward's dorm room as fast as he could without running. It might have been late, but he should be able to get there in time. Mustang shifted the package to his left hand to hold his coat closed against the cold winter air. He could button it up, but he didn't want to stop moving, just in case….

Soon enough he reached the Elrics' door and knocked. If it had been someone else Mustang might have worried he'd wake them, but he knew Ed stayed up quite late. He jiggled his leg impatiently. Come on Ed, open the door. Finally Roy leaned over and peered into the window to find it all dark; he wasn't home.

"Goddamn it," he hissed. He hadn't gone back to Resembul, had he? He thought he remembered Alphonse telling him Ed was staying to give him and Miss Rockbell some privacy... Mustang ran a hand through his hair, trying desperately to think of where Ed might be. It probably wouldn't even matter, now; it was 11:47…Valentine's Day was almost over, and he didn't have a car. Why hadn't he taken Hawkeye up on her offer? Her last words rang though his head, her tone amused, just shy of mocking….

Of course! The library!

Mustang spun on the spot and started running back the way he had come, no longer bothering to hold his coat shut. He cursed his stupidity—where else would Ed be? It was second home to him these days. Mustang's boots slapped loudly against the brick as he ran, straight down the middle of the street unimpeded. He raced past houses, some windows dark and others candle-lit, the residents of Central City enjoying the holiday behind closed doors. He turned a corner and sprinted the last stretch for all he was worth, his breath puffing out into the frigid night in long white streams.

Edward bid goodnight to the librarians and started down the steps. They liked to joke that they were going to make him a key, and he could just lock up when he was finished. Sometimes Ed wished they really would.

He had fled his house early that morning, trying to ignore how incredibly lonely he felt, devoid not only of any romance but his brother, too. Sure he'd been single for all his other Februarys, but at least Al had been with him. It was stupid to feel so sad just because Mustang hadn't sent him a card, and Ed felt angry at himself for it. He'd settled down in his well-loved chair in the back of the restricted section and pulled out ten or twenty volumes from the dusty shelves. At times he had trouble concentrating, his mind wandering to his dark-eyed general, but mostly he successfully lost himself in books until around closing time. The rest of the public had filtered out long ago, leaving just Ed and the staff in the building. He'd all but forgotten his melancholy as he flirted shamelessly with all the female librarians and, since the women thought it was so funny, with one of the men, too. Finally, however, they had finished closing, and Ed had to head back to his cold, dark apartment.

He let out a sigh as he trudged down the steps, glad that he'd at least managed to stay almost half an hour longer than he was supposed to. In a few minutes this crummy holiday would be over, and he wouldn't be faced with the sight of bright red hearts, gaudy cupids, and happy lovers everywhere he turned.

Edward started toward the shortcut through the park. There was no more reason to be afraid… not that he had been so before, but he had flushed out the gang that used to frequent it a few weeks back, more for something to do than anything. Sure, research was great, but he sure missed kicking ass like he used to. Before he could slip into the trees, however, he heard something …someone, and paused to listen. There it was again…it almost sounded like—

"ED!"

The boy whipped around to find someone sprinting toward him like a bat out of hell who, upon closer inspection, proved to be—

"Mustang?" He called out in shock. "What are you doing out here?" He'd never seen the general run before. He felt a pang of worry; was there some emergency?

"I…you…not at your apartment…" he shouted breathlessly as he crossed the square.

"What's the matter? What's wrong?"

Mustang skidded to a stop before Ed and tried to explain himself in a panted rush, but Ed couldn't understand a word and rode over him.

"Wait, wait, what?"

For a split second he just looked at him, and then seized Edward's shoulders and jerked him forward to bring their mouths together. The kiss was over before Edward could even realize it was happening. He couldn't quite comprehend what had just occurred in his shock, and just looked wordlessly at him.

"Ah, that, ah…it was supposed to be a longer…process- or, rather, um, the end of a- the result of a longer… process…." He seemed to realize he was babbling and cleared his throat. Ed could still only stare. He had never seen Mustang flustered before, but whether or not the blush across his cheeks was from running, the cold, or his embarrassment was impossible to tell. He rallied and extended an envelope and a package wrapped in pink and red, bound with a white ribbon that flourished into curls at the bow.

"Thank you for your card…your brother brought it to the office. I did have one for you, I just wanted to…deliver it in person," he said quietly. Edward brought his gaze up from the gift in his hands to Mustang's face, a silence settling down over them. The general had brought him a present…and kissed him. He felt his face flush belatedly as he finally realized the full implications of such.

"Is it still Valentine's Day?" he asked shyly. Mustang blinked, but obediently pulled his watch out to check.

"It's eleven fifty n--" he began, but Ed didn't let him finish. With a fierce tug of his Automail hand he pulled him within range of his mouth and, rising up on tiptoe, kissed him back.

Roy leaned down to better accommodate him and placed one hand on the back of his head as he deepened the kiss. Ed let out a little groan. He had always imagined kissing as being very sedate, sweet, and dry, like the way he'd seen Hughes and Gracia kiss, but this was nothing like that. It was desperate and wet and oh, it was good. They parted, and Ed couldn't help grinning like a fool.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he whispered.

Roy smiled, and leaned his forehead against Ed's.

"You, too."

As the clock in the tower of headquarters began to ring, its deep, smooth tones announcing the arrival of midnight, Edward met Roy's affectionate gaze and decided maybe this Valentine's Day hadn't been so bad after all...