...I forgot something for my sister's seventeenth birthday. Happy b-day, Summer! (About two weeks late)

Apple of Your Eye
you know that i'm hypnotized
each time i look in your eyes

R.A. Rainsworth

Friday night was drinking night. Mustang and his crew always made it so - drink the night away, get laid (well this was mainly Mustang for that matter) disappear in the morning, and somehow make it through the Saturday off without managing to hang himself. It became sort of a tradition with Havoc and Breda, who either went home with cold beds or got hit on by other males who had a thing for the 'rough boys'. Roy asked once why they didn't just give in to those guys. Breda said that he was slightly homophobic, and Jean said that if he sold himself that low, then he would never forgive himself.

Roy understood that somewhat. But sex was sex, and it brought pleasure in all it's forms. Though Roy agreed with Jean; sometimes...it wasn't worth it. Roy honestly believed that there were some things in the world that meant more...it was just his unpleasant luck that didn't find them yet. It didn't matter. It would come to him, and when it did—whatever it was—then he'd accept it wholeheartedly.

"You comin', boss?" Roy inhaled and found the familiar smell of cigarettes filling his senses. The dark haired colonel sighed and waved away the smoke; he quit a long time ago, but even the scent was tempting. Jean noticed this and smiled sheepishly. "All the good drinks'll be taken." the blonde crushed his cigarette butt underfoot. Breda was behind Jean, putting on his leather jacket.

He mulled over it for a minute; a drink sounded great right now, but after his recent visit to the doctor, he decided to pass. After all, he wasn't going to be Fuhrer by destroying his liver and dying before ever getting there. "Nah, 'm good."

"You sure?" Jean patted his pocket. "I'm payin'."

Roy snorted. "That's rare. No, I think I'll go to some diner and pick up something and go home. Next time you'll pay for me." With a satisfied smirk, Roy turned on his heel with his black coat, ignoring Jean's cries of protest and "It's only a once-in-a-lifetime chance!" behind him. That man would never learn. If he was paying, his wallet would be out before he ordered for himself. Roy was cutting his subordinate a break.

It was past twelve, so it really wasn't surprising when not many diners were open. It was mostly bars that he steered clear of, 24-hour service coffee houses, and a few drive-ins. Roy stopped in front of a diner sign that was on the corner of the road, in between two other stores that took everyone else's attention. The restaurant was a twenty-four hour all service, which was good for him, but it also looked like people haven't been inhabiting it for years. Roy looked around at both sides and shrugged; what other place could he go to? He was hungry and there was certainly no food for him at home.

There was a jingle as he entered. The place was dark but medieval themed with swords hung on the wall, clawed tables and chairs, and roses placed in flower vases on the tables. It was weird; it looked more like an old pub with the bar at the end of the room, rather than a diner. Behind the bar, the woman who was working there perked up; Roy saw that in the dim light, she had blonde hair, thick and long and golden colored, but up into a ponytail. As he came closer, she tapped her fingers on the surface of the wood.

"Order?" she asked, and Roy noticed that her eyes were a particular shade of gold, like her hair; brighter. Like...well, it was hard to describe; there were rings. Amber, coined, sunny, molten, burnished. So many adjectives that couldn't be explained.

"What do you have?" Roy looked around for a menu, but the place didn't have one. The woman snorted. "Everything. Well, not everything. We make what you want - usually, Tim knows everything...hey, how about spaghetti?" she had a bit of a southern accent, but it wasn't prominent. Roy shrugged. "That's fine with me." As long as it was food, right?

"Great," she turned around called out. "Tim! One alfredo!" she looked back at him. "It's one of his specialties. It's from Creta, I hear." As the blonde quieted down again, Roy noticed more things. It wasn't hard, especially with his habit of observing the people around him. Seeing as there were no people inside the pub/diner, and this mysterious 'Tim' wasn't around to show his face, there was only the woman.

She was the typical beauty; it was amazing to think that she was working here when she could've been a model or something. Red lips, full and inviting, a heart-shaped face and large eyes. Fair skin and a petite body that was clothed in an odd brown and white garb, no doubt fitting in with the theme. It was only until Roy caught hold of her name tag that he spoke up.

"Is your name really Edward?" he asked, amused.

Edward shrugged. "Hey, I didn't name myself. Dunno what the hell my parents were thinking." Even as she said this, her eyes softened, and Roy could tell that she really didn't mean much malice. Suddenly, she looked back at him. "Since you know my name, tell me yours." It was like a ghostly whisper at the end of the sentence that wasn't said; equivalent exchange.

"Roy Mustang," he introduced himself. "Colonel. Alchemist." He didn't bother with the 'Flame'. He didn't want to deal with his past regrets right now, and that name was only full of regrets. However, when Edward heard the word 'alchemist' Roy could practically see her light up.

"You're an alchemist?" she continued before he could point out that he said that already. "Really? That's sick. I'm an alchemist too." she smiled and raised her hands, palm faced, with stitching on them. He didn't notice them before - the whole glove had been patterned. How had he not noticed? It didn't look like any part of alchemy that he knew.

"Do you specialize in anything?" he queried. Edward shook her head. "Nah. I dabble in everything, really. But you're interested in fire, right?" she pointed to his gloves. "Red against white is very tell tale."

As Edward smirked, Roy found himself liking this woman. "Really? I thought it was the most badass," he joked. "Then again, I was sixteen and stupid." The last part was said with a sort of suppressed bitterness; Edward raised an eyebrow at his tone and snorted, walking to the end of the bar and coming back in a flash with a full coffee pot and mug in hand.

"Hey, no one's stupid," she said aggressively, looking up at him slightly as she poured him some of the drink. "Sixteen's a good age to mess up. At least you know what the hell you were doing and you somehow fix it afterward."

"Experience talking?" Roy took a sip of the coffee; strong and black, no sugar, just how he liked it. Edward looked surprised that he just drank it straight out, and Roy chuckled; she was probably thinking that she'd have to put in sugar and cream and all that. Sure, it made coffee more enjoyable, but Roy thought it just took out the whole purpose of caffeine...

"Unfortunately," said Edward while eying his mug and setting it down beside her. "I was nine. Not old enough to be an idiot, not young enough to blame it all on naivety. I never won."

Roy smiled. "Unfortunately." he repeated her earlier words. Edward cracked a grin, and Roy couldn't help but like her smile; it was the type of smile that once you saw it, you couldn't help but smile too. Infectious. Edward turned around and held up a gloved finger, signaling that she would be back. As she disappeared behind the back door (when was that there?) Roy took another good look around the place; it was clean and even though oddly-decorated, it seemed like a lot of people would come here. It just had that professional air.

Not to mention that the service, no matter how low, was absolutely charming. "Here ya' go," Edward put a white plate filled to the brim with long spaghetti noodles in front of him, covered in red sauce (it was the same color as her lips, blood red) and melted cheese. The smell certainly gained his appetite back and sent the urge to drink flying. "Whoa." he blinked. "This is good," Roy said between bites. Indeed, another reason to come here. Food was fucking awesome.

"Compliments to the chef," said Edward. "Oh, and Creta for making this up. Smart people with their cheeses and food."

Roy set his fork down. "How does...Tim know about Cretan food?" The blond woman was wiping the table now, a dishrag in her hand and her hair falling out of place slightly. "Tim visits every country to know about their food," Edward pushed hair out of her eyes and straightened up. "He's like an alchemist when it comes to those things; always goin' round the world, knowing every cuisine and such to better himself in the cooking arts." she grinned. "At least, that's what he says."

"Comparing himself to an alchemist, huh?"

"Oh no, that was my part actually." she laughed. "Haven't you ever heard of 'alchemy began in the kitchen'? That's why women are so dominant." Edward smirked, as if challenging Mustang in a verbal war. Oh, now he really liked this woman.

"I'm not taking that bait," he said with a full fork in his mouth. He waved the thing at her while she set her arm down on the smooth surface, her chin placed on her hand. "Just so you know—I work with a woman who can shoot a moving target from ten miles away. And then there's this general who's as scary as hell...up in Briggs, she can turn anyone into ice. They call her the 'Ice Queen', you know. So don't think I'll fall for all that...feminist stuff."

Edward chuckled. "It was a joke, but you're the one that took it far mister Mustang."

Roy took a second to evaluate everything and shook his head. "I hate conniving people like you..." he mumbled, but she smiled and he knew that she understood that he said it with no malice in his words, no real threat. Instead, there was something else...a bit playful, sorta teasing, light-hearted tone. Edward immediately recognized it for what it was.

"Hey, are you flirting with me?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow at not looking afraid at her blunt question. Roy choked on his pasta in surprise. "I wasn't aware of that," he answered her finally after looking at her questioningly and running a hand through his hair.

"Oh," Edward straightened up and took her rag. "Well, I guess it was charms at work," she laughed. "Are you gonna be a regular?" Roy shrugged; nothing was sure, nothing was given. That was what he had learned, in all his twenty-nine years of life. Sad, sorta, that he learned this much, but it was more than he could hope for - in a matter...what was he blabbing in his mouth? "We'll see." he left with a mysterious answer and an enigmatic smile.

.

It was a week before Roy returned, but it was a surprise that he had returned at all.

In fact, he was having a horrible day at the office. Hawkeye had somehow managed to get a truckload of paperwork for him, it seemed, and it almost made Roy wish he was out on the field again—almost. Jean had broken his leg earlier on one of their missions, Breda was on a paid vacation, and Fuery was out sick. He was utterly alone, except for Falman, but that man had work to do himself—Hawkeye wasn't being lenient today.

So when he was let out of work, Roy found his feet taking him to the familiar path to the twenty-four hour diner, seeing it when he came home from work every day, his eyes drawn to it. But this time, he let his feet be drawn to it as well.

Opening the door with a little jingle, he noticed that there were much more people now; about three tables were filled, and there was another person there as well. A brunette haired boy, no older than his adolescence, serving people with an overly-polite, slightly sour tone. He glanced at Roy and a look of weariness crossed his face, so Roy gave him a small smile and shook his head. Instead, he sat down at the same spot that he did last week, finding the familiarity comfortable.

He was shocked out of his people-gazing (an odd habit he did while waiting) when a drawling, lilting voice said, "Well, if it isn't Roy Mustang." He turned to see Edward, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. She had her hands on her hips. "Didn't think I would see you again."

"Bad day," he said in response. "No, in fact—bad week."

Edward winced, and much to Roy's pleasure, pulled up a chair from her side. "That horrible, huh?"

"It's starting to get better," he admitted, smiling at her when she laughed; a tinkling, bell-like sound that matched the jingle when he came in. She still had those patterned gloves on her hands, the alchemist's sign, a sort of comfort to know that he wasn't the only one here.

"Charming," she grinned. "Can I get you anything?"

Roy's lip twitched. "Nah. I've had enough of everything for one day."

Edward cocked her hand, perturbed. "If not for the food, then why are you here?"

He only shrugged in response, but it made her smile wider than ever before. So it was definitely worth it.

"You stay there," Edward said, pointing at him. "I'm gonna get you our special." She sauntered away; as Edward followed her form disappearing behind the counter, the next worker gave him a smirk.

"You're not just here for the food, are you?" said the other woman, raising an eyebrow at him.

Roy shrugged. "I would be lying if I said I did."

The redheaded woman gave him a little laugh, a thumbs up, and went back to serving her other customers. Sometimes the brunette boy would come around, busy. Roy was watching everyone there; a blond woman with another man, both of them laughing silently. A man in his late thirties, probably a teacher, sitting at a table with papers out in front of him. A single mom with her kid, both of them eating messily while the mom cleaned her child's cherubic face.

Finally, he found someone tapping on his shoulder; Roy turned around to meet with those familiar gold eyes. God, he would never get tired of looking at those. Edward blinked and smiled, pushing a bowl of something unknown toward him.

"Here," she said, motioning for him to try it. "It's cream of mushroom stew."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "I feel like an experiment—are you using me for taste testing?" That caused a goofy grin out of her; Roy couldn't help it. Despite himself, he smiled back. "Try it, you jerk." She rolled her pretty eyes, lacing her fingers together and placing them under her chin, waiting for him to try it.

Under scrutiny, Roy took a soup spoon and brought it to his lips. Surprisingly, it tasted delicious. "This is good," Roy commented. "The chef again?"

Edward gave a nervous laugh. "Actually, I made it." At Roy's raised eyebrows, she flushed and continued on, "I mean, he's not in today and I know that Amelia is usually the better cook but it's a recipe that my little brother gave me and I always wanted to try it and ever since I was a kid I really loved stew and...I—yeah." She squeezed her eyes shut. "God, I talk too much."

"I think it's endearing," Roy said, saying his thoughts out loud without him noticing it. When he did, however, he blinked and looked slightly baffled, like he couldn't believe that those words came out of his mouth. It worked, though; Edward blushed prettily.

"Thanks," she replied, shy. "I just...I'm not that great of a cook. That's why I'm the one doing the waiting, y'know..."

She looks adorable when she blushes.

Roy promptly threw that thought out of his head and far, far away.

He took another spoonful carefully; it was hot. "How'd you end up in a joint like this anyways?"

Edward leaned forward, placing her forearms on the table and flickering her fingers against each other. Her eyes misted over in something like nostalgia, deep in memory; Roy decided that he didn't want to interrupt her. She took a deep breath and started, "I was born in Risembool, in South Amestris. It's a small town, and no one does anything there. My and my brother wanted out of it, ever since our mother died. I was...always proficient in alchemy, ever since I was kid. Been studying since I was three." She grinned, abashed, at Roy's shock. "Yeah, I know. It was just to get out, really...make a new life for myself. There's not much you can with alchemy, though, except be a State Alchemist..."

Her eyes trailed to Roy's face, and he nodded stiffly, looking away.

"But I decided to do something else. So I came here, spent a few years in this place serving people and taking orders, then graduated at Central University. I was about sixteen then." She laughed. "Four years later, now I'm teaching as their chemistry professor. None of them take too kindly for having a woman as their teacher, but..." she shrugged. "Hey, I put them in their place."

"I don't want to know what that implies," Roy said dryly. "But that's certainly impressive. Just couldn't get enough of this place afterward?" he guessed.

"Nope," she smiled. "And now I'm here, working on the night shifts. You'd usually see me around CU's campus during daylight hours."

Roy stared at her for a while and then he started to speak as well, his voice gruff. "I was born in East Amestirs; Huengen. It's a pretty big trading center, so there was always plenty of everything. Shiny things, trinkets, clothes, food, everything. We used to live well off. I always like alchemy, got interested in it about...oh, when I was ten? Skipped school and trained with a master." He held up his hands. "I specialize in fire, as you said. Made my way into the military. Now here I am."

Edward's eyes flickered to him and then to the wooden table. "Wow," she murmured, her eyebrows furrowing. "So that means...were you in the...Ishbal—" Edward didn't need an answer. She saw how Roy's face became ashen, his eyes darkening further from their regular dark blue. Feeling a bit courageous, she reached out and placed her small, gloved hand on his large one that rested on the table. Roy looked at her in surprise.

"You don't have to say anything," she said, patting his hand comfortingly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

The dark-haired man stared at her, stunned, but then it faded into one of confusion and slight disbelief. Edward figured that he had never heard someone comfort him before. She was about to say something else when he said, "I'd like to take you out for dinner."

And now it was the blond's turn to be surprised. She opened her mouth, but Roy continued, not wanting to lose his strength.

"A real dinner. In a different restaurant. Somewhere nice." He shrugged. "If you want to." Please say you want to.

Edward's mouth opened and closed for a while, but then her lips formed a large, beaming smile. "I'd love to."

(And, okay he would be lying if he said he wasn't ecstatic.)

.

part one - fin.