Notes: Don't think too hard on this one! AU in that it assumes Ed got Al's body back, kept his automail, and stayed in Amestris. Written as stress relief in the space of about half an hour. Unbeta'd.

.

.

.

.

the sun's been known to shine on our wandering kind
[Laura Veirs, Wandering Kind]

.

The best moment, the most hopeful part of every day was morning when the light hit the edge of Roy's bedroom window and crept in, long fingers playing at the edge of the bedspread. If he could, he'd lie in bed every morning until the light was all that was left in the room, until Ed's hair shone in it as he tried to burrow deeper into the sheets and pretend it wasn't a new day with new trials, bringing forth the irritating necessity to rise.

But Ed wasn't there, and the mornings Roy could roll over and press his lips to a warm forehead were few and far between.

There was a routine to follow and a day to push through, so Roy pushed off the covers and rolled out of the bed, feet hitting the cold floor with the same jolt as every morning before this one. Bathroom, kitchen to put on coffee, back to the shower, back to the kitchen to hold the mug in his hand and try to choke down the warmth before he had to run out the door at the sound of Havoc beating the horn and leaning out the window and shouting you're late, General!

Roy was sitting at the table, uniform jacket over the back of his chair and mind too far from thinking about paperwork and diplomats and politics that he very nearly didn't hear the phone ringing.

"Hello?" He couldn't figure out who would bother calling him five goddamn minutes before he'd be walking out the door, not ten to headquarters, but it was probably General Hakuro, the man had been impossible since the very second Roy'd been promoted to his level, always trying to shove every last irate ambassador at him he could—

"Morning, bastard. Didn't think you'd actually pick up!"

Roy's breath choked to a sudden, painful death in his throat, picking up again with the skip hammer in his chest. "Ed? Where are you?"

"Just by the border to Central. I was in Aerugo, right? Fuck, those assholes are rude!"

Ed, calling someone else rude? Roy cracked a smile he knew would be stuck across his face all day and said, "I find it hard to believe they could have been any ruder than you are on a daily basis—"

"Oh, shut the hell up," Ed barked into the phone, but there was a hint of laughter ringing in his tone, and Roy was just so fucking glad to hear from the man that he couldn't care less what Ed actually said, just so long as he kept talking. "So, I'm thinking I'll be comin' around soon."

Please, please do. "I'm looking forward to it," Roy said, and then, after a moment of suppressing a sudden outpour of warmth in his chest to the tips of his fingers, he added, "When?"

"About three hours," Ed said, and Roy started choking again, thinking, three hours? Three hours, he'll be here? Have to call in to work, have to call in sick for a week, going to stay in bed and not do a thing—

"Shall I pick you up at the station, then?"

"Nah, I'm not comin' by train," Ed said. Roy's eyebrows raised, wondering how in the hell else he was getting there, and whether or not he should be worried. "You'll—you'll be there, yeah?"

"I'll be waiting," Roy promised, and it was the truest thing he'd said in months because he'd been waiting for six already, what was three hours to half a year of nothing? Ed's line clicked and Roy held the receiver to his ear and just breathed in the moment, the knowledge.

Outside, the squeal of tires and the horn bleating its impatience. Roy left his jacket right where it was across his chair and opened the front door to put the rest of his life on hold.

He'd gotten a call from Hawkeye not even half an hour after Roy'd sent Havoc off without him. Roy said he was taking a personal day, and Hawkeye'd paused for a second, let out a small, wearily amused breath and asked him to tell Edward she said hello. He promised he would.

Sitting in the kitchen for three hours with coffee after coffee, Roy nearly jumped out of his skin when the doorbell rang, followed quickly by three short raps on the door, another ring of the bell, Ed's own (annoying) announcement.

"Hey," Ed said when Roy'd opened the door and frozen at the sight of him, his hands jammed in the deep pockets of his red coat, hair a mess of twigs and mud and leaves like he'd spent days running through the wilderness and for all Roy knew, Ed had. "Can I come in?" Ed prompted, and Roy backed away, held the door and nodded quickly, drinking in the sight of him. Six months, six months he'd been without Ed, could he have a second to absorb the image of his lover framed in the doorway behind the noontime sun?

Roy took his coat and fixed him a cup of coffee and marveled at the ease of the moment. "Aerugo," he said. "What were you doing there?"

"Got a letter from a guy I knew once, said he was doing some botanical alchemy research in Aerugo. I figured, hell, why not?"

Roy could think of more than a few reasons why not. "You were gone an awfully long time."

Ed shrugged. "I got caught up in some weird stuff, you know how it goes."

"Mm," Roy hummed, because he did know how it went, how Ed jumped headfirst into the dangerous without taking a moment to process the possible consequences. "Should I be worrying about an international incident?"

"Fuck, no," Ed rolled his eyes. "We didn't cause any trouble, old man, relax." But then that aggravated grimace dropped from his face just as quickly and he was smiling at Roy across the table, the soft expression he reserved for a few godblessed souls. Roy reached across, grabbed Ed's flesh hand and felt the skin, warm and alive.

"Welcome home," Roy said, and that soft smile broke into something brighter than the sun, and to see that expression, to see the happiness on Ed's face, it was worth the wait.