A/N: Pretend like fraternization laws don't exist, you'll enjoy the story much more. Happy reading!

Peacetime Wars

Come on Elric, man up, he thought to himself.

He glanced over at Winry again, but looked away almost instant. Why'd she have to look like that today of all days? She looked better than usual, but maybe it was just him. Was it just him? He had talked to Al about it before he left for the east, nearly two years ago, but it had only seemed to get him more anxious.

It had happened shortly after they returned home.

"Al, does Winry seem different to you?"

"Different? Like Sick?"

"No, no! Not like that, more like…" he trailed off and started making gestures with his hands. "Don't you get a funny feeling around her?" he demanded after Al continued to shake his head in the negative.

"No, she's just Winry." That had brought Ed up short.

"You don't get this funny feeling?" Ed asked, confused. Al rolled his eyes.

"Brother, even you can't be that dense."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ed growled.

"Your stomach starts doing flips and your heart beats faster. Your face feels hot and you feel unexplainably happy when you think about her," Al described. "Sound about right?"

"So you have felt it?" Ed asked.

"No," Al groaned in frustration. His brother was a genius alchemist and excellent fighter, but he could be so stupid when it came to people.

Just like Dad, Al thought with a soft smile.

Looking back at Ed he offered, "Did it ever occur to you that you might actually love her, Brother?"

"Well, of course I love her; she's like our sister!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration.

"But she's not," Al pointed out easily. "Just think about it. You have time to think about your own happiness now, without worry."

Al had been right, of course, about having time, but the more he thought about it, the worse it became. He couldn't sleep, could hardly eat, always lost focus… then Winry had placed her hand on his forehead one day, asking if he was sick and he nearly had a heart attack.

After that he couldn't even be in the same room with her. Finally, he just couldn't stand it anymore and he did something he swore he'd never do. He found the crumpled paper (hidden away, just in case) and dialed the number, hoping he wouldn't pick up the line. Unfortunately someone did, but luckily it wasn't the man himself.

"Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye speaking," came the stoic answer. Ed suddenly found the perfect solution to his dilemma.

"Lieutenant! It's Edward Elric, how are you?" he asked in relief. He needed to talk to someone, but he really hadn't wanted to talk to Mustang about something like this. Hawkeye was the perfect neutral go-between. Plus, she was a girl. Girls were better at this love stuff right?

"Oh, Ed. I'm find; did you want to talk to the Colonel?" she asked, voice clearly relaxing a bit.

"No, that's all right," he answered. "Actually, I was wondering if you could give me some advice?"

"If I can," she responded encouragingly. "About what?"

"Well," he paused. Better just to spit it out. "Have you ever been in love?" Dead silence greeted his question and for a minute Ed thought he had lost the call. "Lieutenant? Are you there?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes, I am," she answered, an odd tone to her typically well-controlled voice. "And I have. What do you want to know exactly?"

"How-how do you know?" Ed managed to choke out after a minute.

"You just do," she answered softly yet surely. "It's one of the few questions that your mind, heart, and soul all agree on."

"Oh," he uttered, surprised to hear such things coming from her and not totally sure he understood what she had said. "How come you never married him, if you don't mind me asking?" Another long pause greeted this question, but this time Ed waited patiently.

"We're both married to our work," she answered at last. "Otherwise it would have happened a very long time ago."

"I see," he muttered, thinking. "If that's the case, you ought to try at least. Not that I'm any kind of expert, but work can't be the most fun thing to be married to." He heard what he would have sworn was a giggle on the other end, if he hadn't been talking to Hawkeye that is.

"May I ask you a question, Ed?" she asked instead.

"Sure."

"Is this about Winry?" she inquired, sounding for all the world like she was smirking.

"What? No. I mean, yeah, but no—I mean not like…" he stuttered and stumbled over his words for a moment, not really sure how to answer.

"Ed, calm down," Hawkeye commanded, steely voice returning for a moment. "I think that answers my question," she finished in a softer tone.

"Um, right, well give my regards to the Colonel," he concluded quickly. "And don't tell him I called; I'll never hear the end of it!" he demanded, not realizing the flaw in his logic.

"Of course," Hawkeye answered easily. "Good luck, Ed."

"Thanks, you too Lieutenant." He heard another soft chuckle before the line went dead.

That conversation made Ed aware, more than ever, that this was actually happening. He had only been home a short while though, so no need to rush to her right away and say something right? Better if he took his time… maybe for a couple of years.

He groaned as the train rolled into the station, bringing him back to reality. It had been a couple of years, and now this was it. Now or never. Do or die. And of course the oddest thought had to occur to him; maybe because he was trying to distract himself or maybe it was a way to steel himself, but he just realized something about that conversation with Hawkeye so long ago:

He had called Mustang's private line, so why had Hawkeye been the one to pick up?

Edward Elric and Roy Mustang were not similar men.

One clearly came from a Xerxes descent while the other was pure Amestrian. One was prone to wearing red and acting like a spitfire, wearing his heart on his sleeve, while the other could be found in military blues, with a military attitude, and a carefully guarded heart.

However, they—despite or maybe even because of these differences—found themselves in a similar situation: realizing there was more to life than work.

Roy, at his age, had of course considered it, but he had just been moving too much lately. So with a sudden lull in activity—before he could seriously work on restoring Ishval—he found the question brought before him in the strangest of ways.

And it was all that damn Fullmetal's fault.

Ed, on the other hand, had not considered the question before.

The first decade of his life was spent happily with his mother and brother, ignoring his absent father. Then, suddenly, it was a flurry of action and adventure and heartbreak and growing up and risking his life for all he held dear. Now, at age sixteen, he had finally found his way home, had lain down, and had allowed his mind to wander, just for the moment.

Then the question emerged slowly as he recalled an earlier remark from his brother"

"What about you and Winry?"

For Roy, the question emerged from his lieutenant:

"Have you ever considered settling down, Sir?"

Yes, the one thing both polar opposite men had in common after the promised day: A lull and a question.

More specifically, they had the opportunity to ask a very special lady a very special question. Because now, after so much had happened, after so much work and turmoil, they had a chance to rest and find a happiness neither could consider before: a family.

The thought of a family didn't turn either of them off exactly, but they both considered themselves career men, for starters, not family men. They could both work hard, both were (at one point or another) talented alchemists, but being husbands, let alone fathers, could cause them to stumble uncertainly and falter.

Neither had a strong fatherly presence in their lives growing up, and neither truly had a romantic bone in their body to even pursue a partner. Fate, though, seemed to have the urge to help push them along in something they would otherwise have taken no part in: love.

Roy Mustang was visibly twitching as he walked down the hallway to the office where he knew Riza Hawkeye sat, waiting for him. Not like she was waiting for him, but she would have been waiting for whoever happened to be her superior officer and he just happened to be her superior officer and that's all there was to it and…

Get a hold of yourself man, he commanded himself mentally. He hadn't been this nervous since he first entered the military.

But today was an important day; he had some right to be nervous. Today was the day he had mentally prepared himself for over all these long years. Not that the idea first occurred to him all those years ago. The idea had occurred a while ago now, but not that long ago. Well, kind of, but not in a large scale way; it wasn't going to be a production of any sort and…

Shut up, he mentally scolded. Just calm the hell down and get a grip.

This was awful. He kept checking his hair and his clothes—clothes not uniform. Every time he heard a noise he would jump in surprise—or maybe even guilt. His subordinates had already teased him thoroughly on his nervousness, to make it all worse. Not to mention those few words replaying over and over again in his head:

She drives me crazy, oh, oh…

He slammed open the door to the office and marched inside where, as expected, only Hawkeye was present. The men had all taken an early lunch break to give him this opportunity. This golden, precious, shall-not-be-wasted opportunity.

"Lieutenant," he greeted neutrally. What the hell are you doing? he screamed mentally.

"Colonel," she returned, following him as he made his way to his desk. She started rambling off dates and upcoming events, handing over paperwork as it corresponded.

"Lieutenant?"

"And don't forget we have to attend that banquet for the senior officers on…"

"Lieutenant I have something I was going to—."

"Also, you need to get these signed, dated, and returned to me before the end of the day, not early tomorrow morning…"

"Riza."

That stopped her.

"Sir?" she asked uncertainly. It wasn't as if he'd never called her by her name before—they had practically grown up together long before they joined the military, after all. She just hadn't heard him use her name in a long time. He never used it in the workplace that much she was sure of.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye," he continued formally now that he had her attention. "I've been thinking about this for a while, and I really need to set my priorities in order before I go to Ishval, right?"

Why are you asking her? Moron!

"I would say that would be wise," she answered cautiously.

"I'm glad you agree," he responded, turning to face her. "In that case, allow me to offer you a position."

"Position, Sir?"

"Yes, I want you to come to Ishval with me," he explained, ignoring her curious and confused look as best as she could. "I mean… I want you to go there with me, not following me," he emphasized. She continued to stare at him for a long moment, and for a second he was worried he would have to spell it out for her.

"Are you saying…?"

"Yes," he answered quickly, not letting her finish. "I want you to walk with me, not behind me. You—w-well, I mean. Well, that would sound corny, but," he stuttered a bit and knew he was losing it. Calm down, calm down, think!

"The fraternization laws, Sir…" she pointed out, looking guilty, as if she was the bad guy here.

"I-I may have talked to your gran—Fuhrer Grumman about that at some point," he confessed guiltily.

"Oh," she gasped. "I'm sorry, Sir."

"Sorry?"

"I always thought he was joking." Roy felt himself nearly crumble at that, but luckily she continued quickly. "Of course, Sir."

"Of course?" Have I always sounded this stupid?

"To Hell and back, Sir," she explained. "And I've heard some pretty hellish stories about relationships."

"No! It won't be like that, we'll be—!"

"I was kidding, Sir."

"Oh, right," he chuckled nervously. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, not sure what to do next. Finally Roy managed to swallow the lump in his throat and ask, "So, do you want to go get lunch?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered gesturing for him to lead the way. He took a step, knowing she would follow, but turned around and grabbed her hand, pulling her to his side.

"With me, Lieutenant," he reminded her.

"Yes, Sir."