A/N: *waves awkwardly* I wrote this little fic about two years ago, when I first finished watching Brotherhood, and it's been collecting dust on my hard drive ever since. It's pretty random, not gonna lie, but I hope someone enjoys it at least xD Parental!Roy is pretty much my favourite thing ever. Let me know if you'd like to see more FMA from me, and I shall try to oblige.

plain as the nose on your face

"Who are you folks here for?" the smiling nurse asked, voice brighter than the noon sun, and just as glaringly annoying.

Roy wasn't really in a social mood, and even if the nurse was marginally attractive this definitely wasn't the time to flirt, what with Alphonse currently drooling on his pant leg. Still, he had to give some reply, and Hawkeye's look warned him it had better be a polite one.

"His brother." He nodded to the boy slumped over beside (and partially on top of) him. Now if only the nurse would go on her merry way and leave him to brood in peace…

Instead she drew in a breath, and if anything, her smile grew impossibly wider. "Oh, you mean that sweet little blond boy in room 1703? I can certainly tell they're brothers! They both look like tiny angels when they're sleeping."

Roy almost snorted at her choice of description (and wondered if she'd think Ed was such an angel when awake), but she had already continued babbling, face morphing perfectly into an expression of heartfelt concern. "It's really quite awful what happened to the poor darling," she tsked, "but I heard he's going to make a full recovery. He looks like a fast healer- especially with such a supportive family watching over him."

"Ed's a very strong boy. I know he'll be fine," Hawkeye said firmly, and to Roy's surprise, she reached over to brush some of Alphonse's hair off his forehead. His face, lined with tension Roy hadn't noticed before, relaxed immediately under her touch, and his nose nuzzled into Roy's pant leg again.

He felt distinctly awkward about the whole thing, but the nurse practically cooed.

"I see the boys both inherited their mother's hair, but they've got your nose, sir."

Another waiting room resident called out, and the nurse hurried off in their direction, flashing one last dazzling smile at the trio on the bench. For a moment Roy just sat there, brow furrowed, mouth hanging open slightly in a half-formed reply, but then his brain recovered from the all-consuming fog of confusion that had settled in over everything, and the jigsaw pieces snapped into place.

"My nose?" he choked.

"There's nothing wrong with your nose, sir," Hawkeye said complacently, but could he detect a bit of laughter infusing her voice?

"You know that's not what I meant, Lieutenant." He shifted forward, trying to spot the nurse on the other side of the crowded room, but she didn't look back, or give him any clues as to whether she had been serious or poking fun. "That nurse, she thought we were-"

"Uhnn," Alphonse mumbled as his pillow changed position. His eyes, bleary from sleep, blinked slowly as he turned his head to look up at Roy. "Huh?" He wrinkled his nose, and Roy found himself cataloguing the moment, every facial expression of what had once been unchanging metal. "Wh-" he yawned- "What is it?"

"Absolutely nothing-" Roy began promptly, but Al's eyes were brightening with a quick intelligence equal to his brother's. He glanced at Hawkeye, still not bothering to lift his head from its resting place.

He knew. Dangit, Al knew what that nurse had been implying- that the three of them were a family, that Roy was Hawkeye's husband and Alphonse's father. What would his reaction be- horror? Confusion? Anger? Maybe even-

"Mustang's feeling insecure about his nose?" Alphonse questioned, the traces of a giggle sneaking through his voice. The face he was pulling was both comical and utterly bewildered.

Hawkeye laughed.

It was short, and soft, and Roy turned to her in surprise, something tightening in his chest. He hadn't heard that sound for such a long time…

"One of the nurses made a comment," she said, and she looked at Alphonse with a half smile and soft eyes. When she raised her head to meet Roy's eyes, hers still shone with the same warmth.

As embarrassed and indignant as Roy was feeling, he had to offer a wry smile back.

"Well, your nose looks fine to me," Alphonse offered, soft and sweet. Roy looked down at him and snorted.

"Trust me, Alphonse, I've got no insecur-"

"Maybe that nurse was right," Hawkeye interrupted, expression composed as before, eyes turned back to the paperwork balanced on her lap. "You two do have the same nose."

Roy winced, waiting for Alphonse to put the pieces together into a picture of "family resemblance." Al's eyes widened in realization-

He grabbed his nose with one hand, the other pushing himself upward at a rate that nearly caused a forehead-to-forehead collision. "My nose looks like his?" he demanded. "But it's so- big, and crook-"

Roy barely had time to notice the conversation was headed in completely unexpected direction before he was protesting in affront.

"Hey! I thought you said my nose was fine!"

"Well, on you, maybe, but I mean, on anyone else's face it's just-"

"Why you little-!"

Alphonse only laughed.

"Well, it's hardly my fault our noses look similar."

Alphonse tapped his chin in mock consideration. "You're right," he said decisively. "After all… parents can't choose the genetic makeup of their offspring- they can't decide which physical traits will be passed on."

Roy's jaw dropped once again. So the little devil had heard the entire conversation after all!

Al was grinning, and it had a bit of a wicked edge to it- eerily reminiscent of his older brother. "That nurse didn't know much about genes, though. It's entirely unlikely that the Lieutenant's gene for blond hair would somehow dominate your darker one. Not to mention our eye colours are completely different, and our ages are a little too close for a normal parenthood to be feasible, leading to one conclusion: we're almost certainly unrelated."

"Must be a relief, huh?" Roy said wryly.

But the corners of Al's smirk softened into a smile that could only be called wistful. He shrugged, and slumped back down onto Roy's lap.

"After spending five years as a hulking suit of armour, I'm used to people making assumptions based on my appearance. Sometimes it's really annoying." He let out a slow breath, letting his eyes drift close. Roy almost missed the next quiet words he mumbled. "But this time- I don't mind it."

It was almost three in the morning, he was trapped in a cramped waiting room on a hard-backed bench, a ridiculously sunny nurse had caused him an undue amount of confusion, embarrassment, and stress with her less-than-welcome comments, Hawkeye was doing paperwork and pretending not to be sneaking glances at him with an oddly soft look in her eyes, and there was a teenage boy once again drooling on his pant leg.

But Roy found he didn't mind either.

Not one bit.