Roy Mustang knew the art of procrastination by heart. Every piece of paper that crossed his desk was read and signed if needed, and each document was turned in not a moment too late. But all of the work was put off until the very last minute.

Like today for instance. Why sit at his desk going through boring paperwork that wasn't due until next week when he could spend his morning doing other things? And besides, the windows were really dirty and needed the cleaning anyway. Seriously, he could barely make out Havoc sitting outside under a tree, no doubt sulking from his latest rejection. …Okay, the windows weren't that bad. They were smudged enough though to irritate him and send him into an OCD cleaning spree.

And that's how Edward found him.

Contrary to popular belief, the Fullmetal Alchemist did not come to his superior's office all the time, barging through the door in a raging whirlwind, and the two of them did not get into shouting matches that nearly escalated into fistfights. Those were simply rumors instigated by men who enjoyed building up this reputation (coughBredacoughHavoc). Although Edward had never been the definition of polite, and although Mustang let slip more than a few comments to ruffle the boy's feathers, there was no kicking of doors, nor did their conversations reach loud levels (Ed's short rants aside). That being said, it was quite a while before Mustang registered the teen's presence, being so concentrated in his cleaning. That is, until Edward gave an audible cough.

Mustang paused mid-wipe and turned to see Edward standing by the closed door of his office, a bemused expression on his face.

"…what are you doing?" Edward asked, golden eyes clearly surveying Mustang's sanity. The older man stood on a sturdy, wooden chair to reach the top of the glass. His jacket had been discarded at the beginning of his task, the sleeves of his light blue button up shirt rolled to his elbows. And his hair was not the most orderly, having taken a short nap earlier that morning. All in all, it was the most unprofessional state Edward had ever witnessed the Flame Alchemist.

Midnight blue eyes blinked slowly down at the boy as he sorted out what he had asked him. He had been so focused that he hadn't even heard the door open and close. Cleaning tended to take most of his concentration so it wasn't that surprising. What puzzled Mustang was why Ed was looking at him like he had forgotten to wear pants. It wasn't all that unusual to see the colonel cleaning his office. Hughes teased him all the time about it and Hawkeye often sent him disapproving stares. Then again, this must be the first time Edward had seen him like this. No wonder he was watching him like that. He was so used to seeing Mustang composed behind the formidable structure of his desk.

"I'm cleaning the windows," he stated the obvious, if anything just to get on the blonde's nerves.

Edward nodded once, bemused expression still in place, "I can see that… Why?"

Mustang frowned and glanced at the now shiny glass, "Because they needed it."

Ed snorted, "Right. Or you're shirking off your work."

"I wouldn't call it shirking. More like…procrastinating with purpose."

"Tell that to Lieutenant Hawkeye."

Mustang shuddered, "I will most certainly not. What are you doing here anyway? You're not due back until tomorrow." Edward had recently gotten into a scuffle taking down a rogue alchemist, destroying his automail arm in the process. Him and Alphonse had left to Resembool days ago for repairs and weren't expected back until tomorrow.

That brought Ed up short. He scratched his head, uncertainty clear in his body language, "Uh, no reason. Winry finished up sooner than expected. So here I am! I figured I'd swing by and see if you had any new leads for me."

"Not at the moment," Mustang said absently, mind focused on why Ed was acting so…off. Yes, something was off about the young alchemist. Was he nervous? Antsy? Annoyed? The prominent frown the boy wore would suggest annoyance. The eyes, however… Edward had the most expressive eyes he'd ever seen, making it all too easy to guess what he was thinking. Mustang usually had no problem surmising his emotions and thoughts. Not now. For the life of him, he couldn't place what he was seeing. Just that something was off.

The blonde snorted, shaking his head, "You really are useless."

"I'm not useless!" he snapped back. Useless comments were to Mustang as short comments were to Edward. They both detested them.

Ed smiled smugly, "Okay, maybe not completely useless. You'd make a good maid at least."

Mustang narrowed his eyes at him before deciding to let it slide in favor of debunking Ed's off-ness. "Where's Alphonse at?"

Edward crossed his arms, a sign of defensiveness that Mustang caught, "He's at Hughes's house. We're staying there while we're in town."

Not surprising, considering how Hughes had taken to the boys like they were family. What was strange was that Al had stayed behind. "That's strange," Mustang voiced his thoughts. "He's always with you."

Shuffling in place, Edward averted his eyes to the window, then to his desk, then back to the raven-haired man again and blatantly changed the subject, "Why are you still standing on the chair? I'm getting a crick in my neck from having to look up at you."

A small smirk formed on Mustang's lips, "That should be a normal occurrence for you."

"I'M NOT SHORT, DAMN IT! EVERYONE ELSE IS JUST FREAKISHLY TALL!"

"Keep telling yourself that, Fullmetal," Mustang's smirk deepened. He turned back to the window, dragging the rag across the glass, "And to answer your question, I'm still up here because I haven't finished my task."

"They look clean enough," Ed mumbled grumpily.

"Appearances can be deceiving. If you take the time to have a closer look, things aren't always what they seem."

"…we're still talking about windows, right?"

"You tell me."

Edward was quiet for a time. The silence tempted Mustang to turn and check that he was still there. The boy had never been the quiet type, unless a book captured his attention or troubled thoughts clouded his mind. He took into account how Alphonse wasn't with his brother, how Edward avoided the subject turning to him and why he was here alone. Something had obviously occurred, something unpleasant enough to bring him here on his own. More than that, the kid had yet to leave despite Mustang having already told him that he had nothing of use to him. He usually kept their meetings as brief as possible, and here he stood lingering with no real purpose. Perhaps to postpone whatever awaited him outside these walls? If Mustang was right (which he always was), then Ed would say or do something to have an excuse to remain here.

"…there are janitors for that, you know."

Mustang gave a smug smile, suspicions confirmed, "I'm well aware of that."

"Then why not let them handle it? You never struck me as the cleaning type."

"Sometimes it is better to do things with one's own hands. It's more gratifying that way. I'll be able to look at these windows and know that I was the one that made them shine."

"Oh, so it's an ego thing. Shoulda known."

"That's not the only reason," Mustang corrected him. "It's therapeutic in a way. Things can get pretty hectic around here, even more since you arrived." Here, Ed growled but didn't interrupt. "Everyone needs a way to wind down. This is mine. There's just something about the physical action of wiping things clean, giving you a clean slate to work with."

For a while, the only sounds that filled the room were made by the squeak the rag produced as Mustang dragged it across the next pane of glass. He said no more, leaving it up to Ed on whether to carry on the conversation or walk out the door, although he banked on the former. Ed didn't disappoint.

"But it'll just get dirty again."

"True," he conceded on that point. "No matter how much you scrub, it'll dirty once more in time"

"So why bother?"

"Because if you don't then the dirt will continue to pile on, and when you finally decide that you do want to see it shine again, it's that much harder to clean. That's why you clean what you can, when you can: to see it shine." Mustang paused in his work to glance over his shoulder. Ed stood there gazing up at him with slightly wide eyes, eyes that hid a crushing weight that no person should bear, let alone a child. Ed was but a child, yet he had seen so many terrible things. It had begun to cloud those expressive golden eyes of his, eating away at what innocence he had left, fogging the fire's light that burned in their depths.

Mustang had watched for nearly four years as every failed lead, as every breaking mission snuffed the fire a little bit more. He had never acted upon this, doubting that the kid wanted his help and also trying his best to stay impartial to his subordinate so that Ed could learn to stand on his own two legs. It was now clear to Mustang that Edward knew very well how to stand on his own, but sometimes even the strongest stance faltered. And here Mustang stood, having a chance to help Edward before he could fall completely. If he didn't, he'd truly be the bastard Ed proclaimed him to be.

Making his decision, Mustang hopped off of the chair, scarcely breaking eye contact with the boy. He grabbed an extra rag from his desk and offered it. Edward glanced down at the material in his outstretched hand, his face pinched in confusion.

"The windows won't wash themselves, Edward," Mustang explained. By this point, both of them were fully aware they weren't really talking about windows anymore. "Won't you give it a try?" He then smiled. Not smirked. Smiled. It was something only few had seen, such as Hughes and Hawkeye, but never Edward.

Ed blinked at him, taken aback by the genuine smile, the soft understanding gaze, the offer itself. Then, ever so slowly, he took the cloth into one gloved hand.

Staring down at the rag, Ed gave the smallest of smiles, "Sure, why not."

Mustang didn't know exactly what was going on in Ed's life at this moment. Even his powerful skills of observation were not enough. What he did know was that the burdens Edward carried were heavy, yet hidden behind his sunset eyes. The sun within those irises dimmed with every day that passed as the burdens became heavier for one boy to deal with. Those particular windows were long overdue for a washing, and Mustang would see to it that they were clear to let the sun's rays shine through unhindered.

(-Hawkeye-)

The lieutenant opened the door, prepared to enter the office with another gift for the colonel in the form of paperwork. The unexpected sight before her stopped her short though.

"You missed a spot."

"Shut up! Do you want your damned windows cleaned or don't you?"

"No, no, carry on," Mustang chuckled lowly, shaking his head and turning back to his own section of glass. He wiped at it with a dampened rag, standing on a chair so he could reach the top corners. Ed stood on a chair as well, wiping furiously at the opposite end of the window pane.

Normally, Hawkeye would have chided her superior for delaying his work. However, nothing about this situation was normal. It was one thing to find Mustang washing the windows. It was an entirely different, unbelievable matter to find Edward at his side, washing the windows with him as they bantered…playfully? Yes, playfully, for Mustang just made another teasing remark that Edward rewarded him by hitting him in the arm with his cloth. Mustang chuckled again, unperturbed. Edward went back to wiping the window, his grumbling curses lacking any real bite. The boy's shoulders, shoulders that had been so tense when he had first walked into the office, were no longer taut with suppressed agitation. Hawkeye had seen it before he had went into Mustang's private office, knowing something was bothering him but wanting to respect his personal boundaries by not commenting on it.

And here he now stood, calm as could be, washing windows with the man that irritated him on most days.

Unbelievable.

And yet, Hawkeye smiled at the scene. Mustang had obviously said or done something to set the boy at ease, and Edward was equally affecting the colonel, causing some of the man's barriers to slip away and allowing him to laugh a little. Both of them appeared to be content and even enjoying themselves.

Neither of them had noticed her intrusion. Silently, she slipped back out, closing the door gently behind her. The paperwork could wait for awhile.

I hope you guys enjoyed it! I know I did writing it. Ed/Roy is my weakness and without a doubt my favorite pairing. It's surprising really that I haven't written anything for them specifically yet, and when I finally do it turns out to be parental. Yes I like them as a couple, don't judge me. But parental is far more canon and easier for me to do.

I just realized this is a bit cliché. A lot of the parental Roy/Ed stories out there are about how Ed comes to Mustang's office upset and Mustang basically cheers him up. Ah well, his office would be the only place he'd wash windows at anyway, and this wouldn't have worked if Ed wasn't a little bit upset. Oh, and if you're wondering what was wrong with Ed, I left it vague on purpose. I wouldn't think the problem is that he and Al got into a fight or something. It's more like Ed needed a little space. You guys know how Ed is, he's the big brother and has to be in control, strong, and know what he's doing. He doesn't want Al to see him being weak if he can help it. But after all they've been through, and the day in and day out struggles(both physical and emotional) that's got to wear him down. So I imagine he wanted a breather and somehow ended up at Mustang's office. Maybe he subconsciously thought it was a safe place, maybe he didn't want any downtime and wanted to go straight into another mission so he wouldn't have to think of more complicated things, but then Mustang didn't have any leads for him and that left him feeling lost. That's about what I imagine Ed's going through, and I would have liked to explore that but this somehow ended up in Mustang's PoV...I don't know how that happened cause I originally was gonna have it in third-person omniscient, but it stayed in third-person limited. I almost would like to write this from Ed's point of view, but that'd probably be monotonous...or not, cause I'm sure his perspective of all of this would be very different.

This originally was gonna be for my drabble story, Just A Little Longer, but this turned into something else than I originally intended. I was just gonna have Ed come in while Mustang was doing paperwork and they have some somber chat, but then I started it out with Mustang washing the windows and then the window metaphor just overtook everything. But it's better than what I originally had in mind so I'm glad I went with the flow. This ever happen to you guys? Where you at first wanted to go in one direction and the story was like, "Bitch please, we goin this way." Haha, that's right, my stories have attitude. XD

Alright, enough of my rambling. I'm gonna go shoot some zombies. Peace out.