Summary: Little Maes stumbled upon his father Roy Mustang, who spent the night sleeping on the couch. Why is Roy sleeping on the couch and what is Maes trying to hide from his mother?

Disclaimer: All characters apart from Maes Mustang belong to Hiromu Arakawa.

Please enjoy!

The quiet pitter-patter of two little feet and a loud "thomp" accompanied by the theft of Roy's light woolen blanket, exposing his upper body to the unwelcoming cold of the night, was enough to wake the Führer.

He sat up, hurriedly feeling around for the light switch of the standard lamp. After he found it, the large living room was basked in the soft yellow of the light bulb, illuminating the small frame of a three-year-old boy who tried to scramble out of the heap Roy's fallen blanket had built upon him.

"Maes? What are you doing out of bed? It's –," he checked the clock on the wall and sighed inwardly. 2 am. He hasn't been asleep for more than an hour. "Much too late. What's your excuse, little boy?"

With a little assistance from his father, Maes finally succeeded in freeing himself, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Papa? Why are you sleeping in the living room? Were you mean to mama again?"

Roy frowned. Why did everybody always assume that it was him who had behaved wrongly? "Oh come on, give me a break! I did not –" Roy cleared his throat. Maybe it was wiser to skip the rant on how everybody discriminated him, he was talking to his son after all.

"No. Mama's caught a cold and she doesn't want to pass it on to me so she proposed to sleep on the couch. But since she would not get any better in this cold, I persuaded her to stay in bed and took the couch instead. That's why papa sleeps in the living room. Mama needs her rest, you understand that?" The excited nodding of his son brought a large smile onto Roy's face and he couldn't contain himself from ruffling his son's thick black hair. "But what about you, pup? What are you doing here in the middle of the night? You didn't even turn the lamp on."

Maes clutched the hem of his pajamas, his hazel eyes fastened on his puppy-faced slippers. Roy's worry grew as his big hands clasped around the tiny shoulders of his son, his pride and joy. "Are you hurt?"

"No," he answered hesitantly. determined not to meet his father's eyes. "I… I need a new blanket. Mine is… wet." The soft light and the tufts of his black hair tried to conceal the growing blush that was flooding Maes's chubby cheeks but it did not go unnoticed by Roy.

"Oh?" he asked, oblivious to the situation until he thought about it a second time. "Oh," he repeated, raising his arm to scratch the back of his head a little. That was a first for him.

"Well then, let's get this done together, shall we?" Maes lifted his eyes to meet Roy's which were filled with love and understanding and without uttering another word, he jumped into his father's arms, cuddling him.

3 am. Roy sighed. Being a father sure was hard work. After he had bathed and redressed his little boy, Roy had to change the dampened bedclothes, leaving him with a pile of laundry, since "Mama will be disappointed if she finds out! She says I'm a big boy and big boys don't wet their beds!" He really had to appreciate Riza's work more, especially everything she does for their son.

Finally, finally, he could go back to sleep… "Woof!" A whimper told him a particular dog needed to be walked.

Roy felt like whimpering, too.

He had no idea when he fell asleep, but he woke up to the nice smell of fresh coffee and the gentle touch of two slender hands on his face..

"Good morning, love," he murmured softly, his voice still thick with sleep. "How are you feeling today?"

"Much better," the melodic voice of his wife answered him. She had set down on the couch, taking his head onto her lap and started massaging his temples before she seized his forehead with her warm lips. "You had a long night, I presume?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Other than your snoring?" She chuckled lightly, the vibration passing onto Roy. He loved Riza's chuckling - it always soothed him, especially when she was feeling unwell. "I heard the two of you in the bathroom," she finally answered, stroking his hair softly.

Roy groaned loudly, closing his eyes, and ran his fingers through his hair while sitting up, restoring the tousled look his wife had so carefully smoothed out. "I swore him not to let you know."

"Know what?" Riza replied, a puzzled look on her face which quickly formed into a knowing smile, spreading into a wide grin as Roy snatched a small kiss from her lips.

"I love you."

"I love you. You're a great father, you know that? Father and husband. Still, you should have let me sleep on the couch."

Roy lifted his eyebrow, nudging Riza's arm gently with his hand. "You needed all the rest you could get. You still shouldn't push yourself too hard. Shoo, back to bed!"

"But –!"

"No buts. I'll take care of everything." He kissed her lips again, lingering for more but determined to get her to recover. Riza hung her head a little, however, before she trotted back, she swiftly embraced her husband, snuggling into his broad chest.