A/N: Hello and welcome to my new multi-chapter FMA fic! The idea for this popped into my head a few days ago and I had a great deal of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy! :)

Additional notes: I have noticed that the FMA fandom is extremely well-adapted to adjusting to different or altered timelines, which I am very happy about. My fic won't be any different, so just come along, take things as they come, because I in no way claim this to be anything but an alternate timline. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the associated characters. They belong to Hiromu Arakawa. No copyright infringement intended!

Dreams on Fire

-Chapter 1-

Ed was stomping down the street leading away from Central's railway station, back slouched and swearwords on his lips.

Report to me immediately upon your arrival. Ed mockingly mimicked the bastard Colonel's words in his head. Yeah, great, as if this stupid report couldn't wait for tomorrow! It was not even worth writing and filing a report about—just some guy who had been causing trouble for a village in the South near the border to Creta.

Ed glared tiredly at the darkening sky, which was losing the last traces of orange and was slowly attaining the dark violet and blue hues of night. He kicked a small stone with his left leg, feeling some satisfaction at seeing it bounce multiple times ahead of him before rolling under a parked car.

His suitcase was heavy in his automail hand and he just felt like returning to Al's and his small apartment, assure Al he was fine and catch some sleep. And eat something. He was absolutely starving. Damn trains and the minimal amount of food they served.

Ed kept grumbling in his head until Central Command rose up before him, with its countless small windows illuminated and strangely welcoming. Not that he'd ever admit it felt a lot like coming home. He was too annoyed to acknowledge any small feelings of being glad to be back. He had caught the criminal, so why were the Military bothering him about it now? He was fucking tired.

He made sure to keep his annoyed demeanour about him as he entered the office, because Mustang totally deserved the grumbling and grousing that Ed was preparing to deliver. The office was already empty, so he marched through and kicked the door to Mustang's office open carelessly.

The Colonel was sitting behind his desk, a cup of coffee at his side. It no longer steamed; it had probably grown cold a long time ago. He didn't look particularly startled at Ed's sudden and considerably loud entrance, but that was probably because he had been expecting him.

Ed stomped up to stand in front of the desk, dropped his suitcase at his side and kept his jacket folded over his arm to demonstrate that he would be out of there soon.

"Fullmetal", Mustang acknowledged him, his dark eyes glittering in the faint firelight.

Ed gave an aggravated sigh. "I'm fucking tired, but you wanted a report immediately, so here it is. The man I dealt with was using basic alchemy which he had taught himself to melt the locks on doors to shops at night. He stole valuable things—jewellery, watches, the usual. We found him in his little hide-out, gave chase and caught him just as he thought he had outsmarted us. I turned him over to the military police and he's in their custody now."

Even when he had finished, Mustang kept watching him intently until finally, Ed shifted uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny.

"And the village? There was no large structural damage done to the buildings?" His eyes momentarily dropped to Ed's hands and rose to meet his eyes again.

Ed felt righteous anger rising anew in him at Mustang's assumption. He could feel his eyes sparking when he glared at the bastard Colonel's calm façade. "No, contrary to your belief, I can come back from a mission without a bill for the Military to pay."

As if sensing Ed's edgy and aggressive demeanour, Mustang held up his hands placatingly. "I wasn't implying anything about your... way of handling missions, Fullmetal."

"Sounded a lot like it", Ed huffed, but let it go, too exhausted to get into a real fight.

There was a moment of charged silence, which was broken by Mustang's quiet voice.

"Are you all right?"

Ed blinked, momentarily taken aback at the slight edge of concern that shimmered through the Flame Alchemist's voice. Was that idiot worried about him again? He had just told him, it had been a harmless mission.

"I'm fine. One of the soldiers had his leg injured when Hathorne lost control of the little amount of alchemy he knew. It was nothing serious, though; no one else was injured."

Ed watched Mustang's eyes darken and deepen, as though he had been asking something else and had received an answer that did not answer what he had wanted to know.

"I meant something else, Ed."

Ed felt as though Mustang was looking right through him, the dark, slanted eyes boring into his. It wasn't about his physical welfare anymore, and he knew what Mustang was really asking. Are you all right now that there's nothing left to strive for? Are you all right with having achieved your goal of getting Al's body back and now having nothing left to hunt after, nothing to research and motivate you to reach new heights?

"I'm fine", he repeated, but his voice came out with an edge to it, one that seemed to scream 'lie' and made his lips twist downward in bitterness. Again, a stubborn statement. "I'm fine."

For a moment, it looked as though Mustang would say something else, but then he pressed his lips together and reached for his cold coffee, as if to silence himself.

When he set the cup down again, he was again his commanding officer. Subtle authority leaked through his voice and the distance was between them again. "I expect your written report by tomorrow evening."

Ed rolled his eyes but nodded.

Mustang's eyes softened minutely. "Get some sleep, Fullmetal. You look terrible."

Ed snorted and gestured at the now black night sky outside. "Yeah right, take your own advice."

He grabbed his suitcase, turned and waved over his shoulder as he exited the office. It was time to go home, take a hot shower, eat and then finally, finally sleep.

oO0Oo

Al had been happy to see him and he hadn't denied him a more detailed version of the mission he had been on, telling him about the hoard Hathorne had collected and hidden away in his house's basement.

Then, Al had told him about the newest things he had learned from his research into Earth alchemy and soon enough, Ed had been yawning and had gone for his shower, and then to bed.

The chase, capture and then his journey back to Central had left him exhausted and he could feel his eyes slipping closed as soon as his head settled on his soft pillow and his body relaxed into the sheets that smelled so familiar.

He was in Mustang's office. Warm sunlight trickled through the window comfortingly.

The air, however, smelled of darkness and he felt incredibly sensitive to his surroundings and to any sensations. The fire burning in the fire place sent warm shivers chasing over his flesh arm and suddenly, there was a presence in the room which he knew to be Mustang and no one else—how he knew, he wasn't sure, but that didn't matter.

He turned his head and sure enough, Roy was standing there. He was watching Ed with alert eyes and when he was sure he had his attention, trailed a finger over the stack of paperwork on his desk, making Ed's breath hitch.

"Where is your... report, Fullmetal?", his deep voice purred and Ed felt the hairs on his arm stand on end at the deep tones.

"My report?", he asked, his mouth dry and his voice cracking a tiny bit as he attempted to keep his wits about him. Why was Mustang's voice so different? And wasn't his written report due in the evening?

A dark smile flitted over Roy's lips and he slowly stepped around his table, a predator on the prowl. "Why, Ed, you have not written your report?"

Ed frowned at the way Mustang was coming closer, taking deliberate, measured steps toward Ed's personal space. "Of course not, you idiot, it's due tonight!" Ed could hear the desperate, slightly uncomfortable edge to his voice, but the situation was just too surreal and... disturbing.

"But Ed... look outside... it is 'tonight' already." The soft voice was closer now and Roy was standing temptingly close to him.

Ed took a step back and glared at the dark square of the window, then back at Mustang. "It sure wasn't tonight a minute ago! Something's messed up here and you know it!"

"How... insubordinate of you, Fullmetal." Mustang was still looking at him with that predatory gleam in his eye and Ed attempted to ignore the weird feeling pooling in his stomach that was whispering to him, suggesting he step closer, lose himself in the fire contained in the man before him.

"You didn't even give me time to write that fucking report!", Ed ground out, clenching his fists against those sensations that were slowly spreading through his body.

"We are in the army, Major; we cannot have insubordinate behaviour... especially toward your commanding officer. I have to punish you, Fullmetal." Mustang's voice sounded lascivious as he raised his gloved right hand into the air, thumb and middle finger poised to snap.

Ed gaped at the hand and then at Mustang. "Are you crazy?!", he demanded, shooting out his automail hand to grasp the Colonel's hand and keep him from snapping those gloved fingers. "What's gotten into you? You're always all about being protective and suddenly you want to burn me to a crisp? For not turning in a fucking report?"

"Language."

"I'll show you language, bastard!"

Roy snapped his fingers. Ed froze.

He had been expecting flames to leap at him and consume him, but instead, there seemed to be no effect whatsoever.

Ed started laughing outright, tension ebbing from him in waves of relief. "Knew you were faking it!", he called, but his laughter receded when he saw the deepening smirk on Mustang's face.

"What did you do? Why are you smirking like that?", he demanded to know, unease spreading through him.

The odd feeling that had pooled in his stomach suddenly seemed to catch fire, spreading through his body at an alarming rate, igniting his nerve endings with its passing heat and dragging a low moan from him.

The fire inside of him grew, he could feel it curling pleasurably beneath his skin, and it flared up under Roy's gleaming gaze.

Ed attempted to regain control of his voice at least and managed to croak out a "what did you do to me?" before letting out another strangled gasp.

Mustang simply regarded him as Ed tried to stop the shivers of obvious pleasure show. Damn that bastard. How had he done it? He had set him aflame on the inside, with metaphysical flames that roared in his head and made him itch for something; what it was, he didn't know.

Roy smiled at him; white teeth reflected the fire light. "I awakened the sleeping fire. It calls for me now, it calls for sustenance."

The Colonel reached out a hand as if to demonstrate and before Ed could lean away, Mustang's slim fingers came in contact with his face.

"What the—?"

But Ed couldn't finish his sentence as the fire on his inside flared up and gathered in his right cheek, where Mustang's hand was touching it. He couldn't stifle a gasp, his skin on fire, red white, blissful fire. Stars bloomed across his vision and he managed to drag in ragged breaths of air that were so much colder than the heat rushing through his body.

"Mustang...!"

Ed shot up in his bed, gasping for air as the thrum of sensation in his body slowly ebbed away. He squeezed his eyes shut, momentarily unable to move. When he felt he had his body under control, he lifted his trembling left hand to his cheek, where, until a moment ago, Mustang's hand had rested, burning him with its white-hot caress. The feeling lingered and the nerve endings were sensitive to his touch.

"What the hell?" The whisper was swallowed by his pillow as he pressed his face into its softness.

What was that? The trembling of his body had been too real, too strong to be caused by a simple dream. Even now, he would swear that somewhere in the deepest recesses of his self, a small fire was feeding off of the oxygen he inhaled, stealing his breath.

"Damn you Mustang", he growled, still burying his head in his pillow.

Why would he dream something weird like this? Sure, he had talked to Mustang in his office right before coming home and dropping off to sleep, but that did in no way explain the way Mustang had been acting and, he blushed at this point, it did not explain the rushing waves of heat that had consumed him from the inside.

He was half decided to blame it on the bastard Colonel himself, since he hadn't acted at all strangely in the dream, he had not set the Colonel on fire, he had not been the one to do something disturbing like touching Mustang's face. No, he, Ed, was entirely not to blame for this dream.

Still, it haunted him as he went about his morning routine and still nagged at him when he sat down to breakfast with Al.

Al was shovelling food into his mouth while cheerfully telling him about all the wonderful things he would be able to help the farmers in Amestris with by employing his Earth alchemy that he was honing for just that purpose. Fighting and hurting others were not tasks cut out for him and Ed was honestly glad to see Alphonse work in an area where he as his older brother didn't need to worry for his wellbeing every hour of the day.

Ed did not notice the silence until Al cleared his throat and he guiltily focused his attention on Al again.

"I'm sorry, Al, I was listening, but..."

Al frowned in honest concern and searched his face. "You seem upset about something. Did anything happen?"

Ed considered lying and telling him it was nothing, but the thought of lying to him did not sit well with him. And maybe Al knew a thing or two about dreams...?

"I just... had a really strange dream tonight. There was... fire. Not a threatening kind of fire, though." Ed felt a blush start to rise to his face and thought of words to tell Al about the dream without mentioning the Colonel's involvement or the sensations he had made him feel.

"What was burning?" Al asked innocently, trying to help.

"Uh..." Ed stalled. "I was."

Al winced. "That's terrible!"

Seeing the pained expression on his far too empathic brother, Ed waved his hands frantically in an attempt to dispel the terrible image Al must be having in his mind of an agonized Ed burning.

"No, no, it was more like a... a fire on the inside, but it didn't hurt."

"Oh." Al stayed quiet, pondering his question while Ed stared out the window over the awakening city.

"Fire could mean passion or danger. But for us alchemists it's mostly about new beginnings, you know, the process of melting down materials with fire and re-forming them into new structures."

Ed frowned. "That means... change? A new beginning?"

The lingering taste of fire in his mouth curled around the words and Ed wondered in dismay when this odd sensation would finally leave him.

Al was still regarding him, muttering "Fire... fire..." deeply in thought, until suddenly, his eyes brightened.

"...unless you dreamed about Colonel Mustang?"

Ed choked on his coffee.

oO0Oo

It appeared that everything was sworn against him today, Ed thought as he walked down the corridors of Central on his way to the bastard Colonel's office.

Passing the cafeteria, he walked by a gaggle of giggling female soldiers without paying them any attention until he had nearly passed them when one of the soldiers suddenly squealed "I dreamed about the Flame Alchemist tonight!" to which the giggling group fell into hysteria and Ed missed a step and nearly stumbled over his own feet ungracefully.

His mood only worsened when their laughter followed him to the next level of Central Command. He set down his feet more forcefully than usual.

Entering the office, he was greeted by a chorus of "Morning boss!" and if he glanced at Mustang's closed door once, he didn't even consider going in there. He knew what he needed to do and there was no way he was facing that bastard after the night he had had.

He plopped down behind his small desk, irritably brushed some of the wayward blonde strands from his eyes and grabbed a few blank sheets of paper to start that report.

Why, Ed, you have not written your report? danced through his head in Mustang's mocking tones and he let out a small growl as he bent over the papers.

"So angry so early in the morning, Fullmetal? Was the coffee machine too high for you to reach?"

Anger lanced through him and Ed whipped up his head in a death glare. "Who are you calling a midget so small he could drown in a cup of coffee?! Don't call me small!"

Mustang smirked and Ed fumed.

They were back to their old routine, and Ed's anger was genuine, but he couldn't help but think that the fire of anger in him could so easily be compared with the fire he had felt in his dream. They had the same, all-consuming quality and both, if he wanted or not, were focused on the Colonel in front of him.

Ed felt like making a scathing comment of his own, but nothing would come to mind, which only made him angrier. The worst thing was that that bastard actually seemed to be enjoying himself, watching him fume and react to his jabs with that superior look of his.

"Just leave me alone, I'm working!", he finally ground out, eliciting an amused upturning of lips from Mustang.

"Well, then don't let me keep you—I wouldn't want to see your enthusiasm for writing this report go to waste." Another smirk and Mustang nonchalantly left the office, leaving Hawkeye to sprint after him with her gun to demand where he thought he was going before finishing his paperwork.

When he was gone, Ed remained still, bent over the paper, pen poised but no words coming to his mind. He felt like the white sheet of paper in front of him—blank, empty.

He twirled the pen around the fingers of his left hand, watching the way the light was reflected in it.

It wasn't like he hated the Colonel. Mustang had come to his help one way or another so many times, had been the one to drag him out of his depression and give him new purpose when he had lost Al's body and his limbs after the failed human transmutation. Mustang had come and seen the fire in Ed's eyes when no one else had, and he had been the one to awaken it by giving him new hope.

No, he didn't hate the Colonel.

He just made him so angry! He knew Ed's buttons and how to push them, knew how to get a reaction from him when no one else knew what to do. Ed knew that it was usually Mustang who would snap him out of the blank state he went into sometimes, those moments when he remembered the Gate and the horrors beyond and within it.

Of course he was grateful. Not that he would ever show it. Gratitude simply didn't factor into their relationship. There was anger, yes, and the occasional glimpse of grudging respect, but that was the extent of it.

Now if only his stupid dreams would understand that, too.

TBC