March 1st, 1985

It wasn't spring yet. It was too cold, but Edward didn't mind the briskness of the breeze that met him on the front porch of the hill house. The foothills and fields around Resembool were trying to make a valiant attempted at early spring, but they hadn't quite succeeded. Tiny heads of grass made green pinpoints in the dry brown grass, and the occasional purple crocus pushed its way up out of the dank black earth. The naked trees seemed to stand straighter, even if they weren't yet budding.

Ed was wearing his warm workout clothes and a windbreaker. At his feet, Mal looked ready to be off for their morning stroll.

"Can I come?"

Turning around, Ed saw Winry opening the front door, dressed for a walk, but in a thicker coat than his. He smiled. "Of course you can come. I thought you were sleeping in."

"I was," Winry admitted as she sidled up next to him, "But the bed's chilly without you."

"It won't be warmer out here."

"But the company's better."

"Well I can't argue with you there," Ed grinned, offering her his arm. "I was feeling lazy this morning, so we're just walking a few miles."

"Just a few miles," Winry repeated, shaking her head even as she slid her arm through his. "Did you have a particular destination in mind?"

"Not really." Ed led the way down off the porch and down the drive towards the road at the bottom of the hill. "Though I wouldn't object if it ended in town with coffee and breakfast." One of the new cafes that had opened recently had a wide selection of imported drinks, as well as great pastries. "Mal wouldn't object either." The dog loved their biscuit-wrapped sausages.

Winry sighed, but Ed could tell it was just for show. "Well, it would mean I didn't have to cook, and we could shop for baby gifts."

"As if you haven't already bought Trisha enough things," Ed teased her. They had both been pleased by their granddaughter's announcement a few weeks after Minxia's wedding, that she and Roy were expecting their third child. Franz, in particular, had lit up at the news. "There won't be anything left for Elena or Riza to buy."

"That's why we made lists," Winry informed him.

"Lists?"

"Of what they actually need, and who really wanted to help with what," Winry explained.

Ed watched Mal as the giant white dog stopped to sniff at a patch of buttercups. "Women coordinate the weirdest things."

"Have you ever tried to return a duplicate gift on something as large as a playpen?"

"Well, no," Ed admitted. "I suppose I see your point."

"Good." Winry nodded. "It's not like everything I've bought is for them. When I see things I think other people will like, I prefer to pick them up when I see them. There are always holidays and birthdays and reasons for gift giving."

"Yeah, but I don't think we know anyone else who needs baby things at the moment," Ed pointed out. At least, he didn't think anyone else in their family or circle of friends was currently pregnant. For once, Deanna wasn't! Their littlest girl, Dessa, was just barely a year old. None of his other grandchildren were expecting, and he knew that no one on Al's side was either. Despite plenty of jokes about Minxia and Thrakos, he had a feeling that they were taking precautions to be sure they didn't have any adorable little surprises before they wanted them. Surprises were possible, but unlikely.

"That doesn't mean they won't in the future," Winry replied, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "It's like buying spare auto-mail parts, or craft supplies. Eventually, you can be almost certain they'll come in useful."

March 2nd, 1985

Ian hadn't meant to lose track of the time. Trevor and Perry had suggested going over the next day's scene together as they left the set and he had met up with them at the nearby pub. There was a quiet back room they could reserve, and hang out and rehearse even as they relaxed over beers.

It was only after five times through the scene that Ian realized he was twenty minutes late to help Bonnie move a load of fabric from the store she had bought it from up to her apartment. It was for designs for the line Silverman's wanted to sell.

Ian walked quickly from the bar to the fabric shop, which was on the way to Bonnie's apartment anyway. When he got there, he was informed that the fabric had already been loaded into her car. Well, shit.

At that point, Ian ran to Bonnie's apartment. He just hoped she wasn't too put out!

Her car was parked on the street, but it looked like Bonnie was just starting to unload. She had the back doors open and was reaching in for the first several bolts.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Ian gasped as he came to a stop next to the car. "We were rehearsing."

Bonnie looked up at him, her arms full of bolts of fabric. "Well you're here now. Help me get these upstairs."

Good, she only seemed slightly irritated. Ian grabbed half a dozen bolts himself and followed Bonnie up the stairs without complaint. It only took four trips to get everything up to the apartment. "Wow," he commented as he looked at the pile, which had taken over everything except the short sofa. "When are you going to find time to make all these?"

"In the evenings," Bonnie commented as she shifted the pile into organized chaos. "I have time."

It was true she wasn't a party animal, but Ian sometimes wondered if Bonnie was trying to become a fabric hermit. That would be a real shame. "Mind if I keep you company some evening while you sew?"

"Oh… well, I guess I wouldn't mind," Bonnie commented, though her tone was oddly distant. Maybe she was still miffed that he was late. "As long as you don't get in the way."

"I'll sit over… there," Ian grinned, gesturing at the couch as he moved around the pile of fabric. "I'll stay out of your way, I promise." He tried to move easily, but in trying not to hit a bolt of particularly expensive looking white silk he stumbled, and fell against Bonnie. He managed to grab her shoulders to avoid falling over. "Oh! Sorry I—"

"Ian!" She wobbled but didn't go over.

He held tight until he was sure neither of them was going to fall. "This place is a hazard," he laughed, though his hands lingered, perhaps a moment too long. He was frozen by the scent and feel of her, so close, momentarily overwhelmed his senses. They rarely touched, and it felt amazing.

"Ian."

"What?" He looked down, to find that her eyes did not reflect his own feelings.

"Could you move?" She asked, her voice strained. "You're… poking me."

He was too old to worry about embarrassment, but Ian hadn't realized his reaction to her proximity had been quite so obvious. "Sorry." He let go and stepped back, willing his body to stop reacting, even though he knew it was in vain. "I didn't mean to fall on you like that."

"I know." She took a step back and turned suddenly, moving the bolt of fabric to widen the walkway in her tiny living space. "It's fine. Forget it."

Ian felt a flash of irritation at her tone. What had he done to deserve such a sudden dismissal? They had been friends for long enough it shouldn't have been a big deal. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. Like you said, it was an accident," but Bonnie didn't turn around. Instead, she remained busy, pulling sewing notions out of a shopping bag and starting to put them up in the sewing area that took up half the room.

"I mean before this," Ian clarified. "I thought we were friends, but lately it's almost like we just work together again."

Bonnie sighed. "It's nothing. Please, drop it."

"No. Not until you tell me what's wrong." A horrible thought struck him. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"What? No!" Bonnie's head whipped around and she stared at him. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well it seemed like a logical possibility," Ian pointed out. "I mean, why else would this have bothered you?"

"Your involuntary reactions are not my problem." Bonnie closed the cabinet with a slightly hard shove and turned away again, picking up the next bag; this one full of serger threads.

"It's not entirely involuntary."

It was a stupid thing to say, but Ian was tired of dancing around the issue.

Bonnie froze. "That's a really lousy line. I don't recommend using it in a film."

"I'm not kidding." Ian reached out and took hold of her arm. Not hard, just enough to try and turn her towards him. Bonnie resisted. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed how much I like you, Bonnie. I thought we were good friends. I care about you more than that."

"You've been drinking."

That made him angry. "A couple of beers over a script. I'm not drunk and don't try and change the subject. I've waited and waited for you to be more comfortable with me, to not be worried that I'm just here because you're hot. Which you are, by the way. But I… damn it I don't want to lose your friendship, but I'd be lying if I kept pretending I don't want more than that."

"So you've been helping out in the hopes of getting in my pants?" The fury flashing in her eyes as Bonnie glared up at him took Ian by surprise.

"No! Damn it." Ian tightened his grip as she tried to pull her arm out of his hand. "I talked to Grandpa because I think you're one of the most talented designers I've ever seen! I just wanted to help if I could, but I have no doubt you'd have gotten here on your own without me. But me… I couldn't be here without you."

"Damn right you couldn't," Bonnie replied. She did not sound mollified. She didn't believe him. That much was clear.

"I love you."

"Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Ian. Let go of me!"

This was not going the way he had hoped… but he probably should have expected it. "Fine." He dropped his hand. "But I do love you." It was easier to say it the second time.

"Do you even know what love is?" Bonnie rubbed her arm lightly with one hand.

"I can't believe you'd ask that." Ian took a step back. She knew his family, his history. Maybe she didn't know him as well as he thought.
"Why not?" Bonnie picked up a magazine off her table and shoved it in his face. "You haven't changed much."

Ian had to back up another step to focus on the picture that she had thrust at him. It was a shot from one of the recent film after parties, and he was dancing with one of his co-stars from the film, Yana Bines, a very busty half-Aerugian in a tight purple dress. From the camera angle, it looked like she might pop out of it at any minute, though Ian knew that wasn't likely to have happened. He'd seen the article last week: the usual trash about likely romances between him and his co-stars. Given the way his hands were placed in the photo, it certainly looked like he was all over her.

He felt even angrier that she would take it seriously. Damned press. "It's just a gossip rag," he replied, scowling. "If I'd ever touched Yana in the wrong place she'd have hit me."

"That assumes that's a wrong place."

"Will you stop it?" Ian shouted, knocking the magazine out of his face. "I can't believe you'd believe any of this trash. You know me! At least, I thought you did. Now I wonder if you even see me as myself." He wasn't trying to loom over her, but his height made it difficult not to in the tight space. "Or if you're trying to project your own ideas on me as a way of keeping me away? Because right now you're treating me like I'm some kind of ass after I've bent over backwards -willingly- to try and be the best friend I can be to you because I wanted to spend time with you. But this— this is ridiculous. I haven't been with a woman in three years. Why? Because I didn't want to disappoint you. Because I wanted you. What we have is so easy, so real. I don't want a supermodel, Bonnie. I want someone better than that. You're better than that. You're talented, and intelligent, and independent, and capable, and yes, you're beautiful. I think you're the most amazing woman I've ever met, and I thought we were perfect… together. But… if that's how you see me…I don't know what else to do anymore." His momentum fell away as his emotions overwhelmed him. He shouldn't have said anything, shouldn't have started it. If he had never told her, she wouldn't be looking at him that way. He pushed her aside and moved towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Bonnie gasped, getting her words back instead of staring at him in shock. She spun, her eyes following him.

Ian paused long enough to look back at her. "To go do something incredibly stupid, because clearly I'm the king of that." Then he was out the door, slamming it behind him as he hurried down the hall, the stairs, and out onto the street. He thought he heard Bonnie shouting at him from her doorway, but he was sure it was wishful thinking. He kept moving.

He didn't want her to see the tears threatening in his eyes.

Bonnie stared out her door for several minutes, stunned, hurt, and then the guilt set in. He hadn't come back. She had shouted after him, but Ian had vanished into the night. Finally, she acknowledged to herself that he wasn't coming back and closed the door. With a deep, shuddering sigh, she leaned her back against the door, letting her head tilt back until all she saw was the ceiling. "I am such an idiot," she said to the silence. It didn't contradict her.

Nothing else was going to happen tonight if she didn't move. Reluctantly, Bonnie returned to straightening supplies, and fitting bolts into the racks she had set up in the second bedroom of her small apartment. Still, the night was ruined, and it was her fault. Her and her stupid fears, and her lousy taste in men.

Maybe if she had ever really told Ian about her past, he would have understood. Bonnie had told him her ex-boyfriends were losers, and the reason she didn't date actors or musicians… or anyone. Not anymore.

There were only so many times Bonnie could rearrange her sewing notions. Once everything was put away she gave up, went to the kitchen, and made herself a cup of strong, dark coffee. She should call Ian. He was surely home by now. It wasn't that late. Or maybe he wasn't. He'd said he was going to go do something stupid. That meant he was probably out somewhere getting drunk. Wasn't that exactly one of the reasons why she wasn't seeing him?

Even so, the excuses sounded thin, even in her mind. Intellectually, she was fully aware that Ian was not Rodney. He wasn't Jason.

But then, Rodney and Jason hadn't seemed like Rodney and Jason.

Rodney hadn't ever really been much of an actor, but he'd been good looking, he'd had a promising looking career in television dramas, and he'd been cute. Really cute. We'll show the world, baby, you and me. We'll be something special.

Lying piece of shit. Six months and he was gone, on to someone else, and she'd been one of almost a dozen girls he'd been with in that time; eleven other girls she hadn't known about, even though she'd been at the same parties he was at almost every time. She had been young, and stupid.

I'm still stupid. She sipped her coffee, trying to get Rodney's face out of her mind, his words out of her head. He'd always been encouraging, and he'd seemed kind and attentive. Apparently he'd been a better actor than she gave him credit for.

Jason.

Her body shuddered involuntarily. Somehow, his betrayals had always been more personal. In the end, she still wasn't sure how she had found the strength to break it off. You owe me, babe. You'd be nothing but a bit of trash in an alley without me. You wanna tell me what to do? Nobody tells me what to do. I'm the king of my own world. You wanna be queen, you do what I tell you. She could still hear him yelling, see the crazed look in his eyes, smell the drugs on him… feel his hands on her…

Her coffee tasted salty.

It wasn't fair, but how could she explain to Ian? How could she tell him how it felt to realize you knew nothing about the person you loved, or to fear them? She didn't want to get involved with anyone else, because she was lousy at it. No matter how much her brain understood that the man in front of her was probably a perfectly nice human being, her heart always panicked when a guy made a move.

It had taken her years to become comfortable having him as a friend. Bonnie only had a few men in her life she felt safe around as more than acquaintances. If she didn't have to date them, she was fine with them. If they weren't involved, it didn't matter so much.

Why did you have to say "I love you?"

She should have seen it coming. Ian had never tried to pretend he didn't find her attractive, but unlike most of the other men who hit on her, he had taken the time to get to know her, to become friends, to care… and she had never really told him what still freaked her out. So she'd panicked, and pushed him away again.

The worst part was that she didn't hate him. She liked him, as a lot… Bonnie knew she could love him if she let herself. She had never been good at controlling her own feelings, as much as she pretended she did. But, she didn't want to drive him away, she just wanted things to stay how they were; safe, and comfortable. That wasn't going to happen. Ian was a passionate, honest person, and she couldn't expect him to change his own feelings just to suit her insecurities.

Why is it so hard to say 'I love you' back?

March 3rd, 1985

"Honey, I love you, but I really think you should go home," Roy said softly, though Tore could hear him from only two desks away.

Tore tried very hard not to smile at the futility of Roy's request as Trisha gave her husband an annoyed glare. This scene had played out so many times over the past couple of weeks; Tore and Cal were considering turning it into a drinking game.

He hadn't mentioned that to Roy and Trisha.

"I'm going to be stuck at home for the next several months," Trisha pointed out. "I can be here, making sure that my work isn't left unfinished for someone else to do inadequately, or I can sit at home doing very little of use and driving myself nuts. I think I'd rather be here."

"So you said when we dropped the kids at school this morning," Roy grumbled. "You're supposed to be taking it easy."

Trisha gestured to the footstool under her desk, the pillow on the back of her chair, and the large glass of water on her desk. "How is this not taking it easy?"

Roy looked like he was doing his best not to explode, though probably more from frustration than anger.

Tore sympathized, but Trisha had always been stubborn about working up to the last minute in her last two pregnancies, so even now, less than a week from d-day, he felt like Roy should have gotten used to it by now; and if the doctors hadn't ordered her home, he knew Cal wasn't going to do it either.

"Hey, Closson, I'd like to see you in my office for a minute."

Tore looked up and saw Cal standing at his door. "Sure." He grabbed the reports he had just finished and followed Cal back to his friend's desk. It was sort of amusing, he thought, being promoted to his friend's second, as things went. Marcus Kane had finally retired a couple of months before, and Cal had been promoted in his place, putting him effectively in charge of the entire State Alchemist program.

Cal was still making jokes about it, but Tore thought he was getting used to that third star on his shoulder. Certainly Alyse had made a huge deal out of it.

"What's up, boss?" Tore grinned as the door clicked shut behind him.

Cal chuckled as he returned to his seat and leaned back. "Enjoying the show?"

Tore shrugged. "It's a rerun."

"Makes me glad we're well past that stage," Cal nodded as he gestured for Tore to take a seat.

Tore obliged. "I'll say. Though I'm not sure watching the kids go off to college will be much easier." Dare was graduating in just a couple of months, and had already turned in his paperwork to enlist in the military. His first post would be North City. His girlfriend, Lorraine, planned to follow him up there.

Cal nodded. "Gloria's already got her acceptance letter from ECU. I swear she's already packed. I don't know how anyone survives letting their kids go off on their own."

"Especially beautiful daughters?" Tore chuckled. Gloria turned heads already. Putting her on a college campus full of hormonal young men was going to be interesting. Tore was just glad Cami was far too young to go.

"I'm not sure whether to be relieved or worried that her last boyfriend didn't work out." Cal picked up a glass of water from his desk and took a drink. "She'll be surrounded by stupid young men I can't do anything about."

Tore didn't point out that they had both qualified as stupid young men in spades at one point in time, and they had both turned out all right. "At least it wasn't a nasty break-up, so you don't have to worry about someone catching her on the rebound. In any case, you didn't call me in here to talk about your parental insecurities."

"I might have," Cal countered, before he shrugged. "I was wondering what you had in mind for the departmental reassignments coming up?"

Tore pulled out the roster he had brought with him, expecting that question. In order to keep things tidy, and on the up-and-up, Cal's promotion and other subsequent shifts underneath him had meant some personnel shuffling in the department. Particularly when it came to couples, since that meant they were under different commanding officers. Tough to do in a department as small as the State Alchemists, unless they worked under the Laboratories, which Tore knew Cal was glad worked with general autonomy, sending in reports on their workings in a timely manner. Tore had gotten Trisha. "I thought we might see if Trisha would like to take over some of the training duties," he said as he watched Cal scan the page. "The hours are more regular than street patrols and special assignments." Safer too. He knew Franz wouldn't turn down an assignment that kept Trisha out of the crossfire as much as possible.

"It's also not a sideline job," Cal nodded. They both knew Trisha would be upset if she thought anyone was keeping her out of harm's way just because she was a woman, and a mother. Tore would never have suggested that she couldn't manage the work. Trisha was too much like her mother. The job had a lot of upward mobility in the ranks, and he wanted someone in there he could trust not to lose their temper and blow off some poor student or new State Alchemist's head. "I approve. The whole list looks good. I'm impressed you managed to cover everything with as few changes as you did."

"Efficiency means less work for all of us," Tore grinned. "Sometimes being efficient isn't much different than being lazy."

"Don't tell Alyse that," Cal smiled wryly. "She has some very strong opinions on the subject."

Bonnie didn't say a word to Ian as she did his make-up in wardrobe. Not that Ian expected any differently. Not after the way he had blown up at her last night. Not a word. Not about the circles under his blood-shot eyes, not about the fabric from last night, and definitely not about what he had said the day before. In some ways, Ian was glad. In others, it was absolute torture.

Was this it? No more bantering in the chair; no more conversations while she fitted his costumes? Would she even be willing to work on set with him anymore? Not that she really had a choice if she wanted the big jobs. Tanner would never letter her turn those down. She was too talented.

Ian had spent a very lonely, miserable evening drunk on his couch. Alone, because he hadn't felt like finding a one-night stand. Drunk… because hey, why prove her wrong? It was petty, but Ian hadn't cared at the time. He had confessed his love, and she had freaked out. That wasn't how that was supposed to go.

Bonnie's eyes looked puffy, he noticed, as if she'd been crying.

Good the hurt, selfish part of him said. Yesterday her accusations had hurt him even more deeply than he had thought possible. And yet, all he wanted to do was comfort her and ask what was wrong; except, he knew the answer.

He was wrong.

"Ian."

"What?" he looked up at her, startled.

"I'm finished."

"Oh. Thanks." Ian stood up and pulled on the jacket he was wearing in the next scene. He wanted to say more, but they weren't alone. At the other end of the trailer, Perry was in make-up, while Anette styled his hair to his character's usual over-greased perfection.

Bonnie seemed to feel just as awkward. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak, but then closed it and turned away, her face flush. He couldn't wait any more to get on set. She said nothing else as he walked out of the trailer.

It was almost worse than a break-up to Ian, because they'd never been a couple. Years of patience, of hoping, of imagining how he might convince her that his feelings were genuine. He had thought their friendship was stronger than this, and now he wasn't sure she would ever willingly speak to him again outside of necessity.

He would have to try though. Ian didn't think he could just leave it like this. It was too unresolved. He would have to find time later, and talk to her.

Author's Note: 12/22/2015 Happy Winter Solstice! (Or Summer if you're reading from the other hemisphere!) Hope everyone is enjoying your season, whatever your celebrations of choice may be. :) Welcome to the next story! Expect to see a lot of many old friends: Ed, Al, Winry, we'll see some forward progress in the lives of Urey (will he ever break out of his funk?), Ian (will he 'ever' get together with Bonnie?), Ted, Roy and Trisha, Cal and Alyse... so many kids growing up, going to college, moving on with life. Lots of big challenges and adventure ahead. The world's changing and there's a lot going on! Enjoy!