ILLUSORY

This is a bit of a preview. The rest of the chapters'll be posted once I write them in a few months or so. Thank you for taking the time to read this!

Chapter 1 • Introductions

"You broke her!" Winry screamed in despair and outrage, tears already threatening to roll down her young cheeks. "You broke her!"

Edward grunted and tugged at the doll caught in his hand. "It's not my fault!" he argued, raising his voice to be heard over his friend's sobbing. "It got caught in my automail! If anything, it's your fault for not tightening the bolts enough!"

"My automail is perfect," the youngest automail engineer retorted loud enough to rattle the windows. Her face was turning a worrisome crimson that clashed horribly with her cheery pink dress. "You're just an idiot!"

Finally, the doll's woollen hair escaped from the junction of his thumb and metal palm. "There!" Ed thrust the toy into Winry's lap and stood up in a hurry, in case she was carrying anything hard and painful. "Your stupid doll's fine!"

"No, it's not!" Winry wailed, threading the wool through her fingers as if she could weave the strands back into obedience. "Her hair's ruined! I hate you, Edward!"

Edward, in a great display of twelve-year-old maturity, stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry before fleeing the crime scene. His gait was a bit uneven, and his bare feet made contrasting thuds and clicks on the hardwood of the Rockbell's home—but that was to be expected. Granny Pinako had been impressed at his ability to run—or shamble, as it was—merely ten months after his surgery. It had filled him with warmth, and Alphonse had let out a quiet sigh of relief.

In just two months, the deadline would appear, and Edward wouldn't have to withstand Winry's irrational attacks any longer. They were unjustified, and always painful.

He huffed as he threw open the front door and quickly limped past Pinako, up to her elbows in mud and weeds. He was followed, as always, by his clanking brother, who answered Granny's shocked questions with a politeness that Ed just couldn't emulate. Nevertheless, she continued to ask where he was going until he was already well down the road.

In just two months—just two—Edward Elric would leave the small town of Risembool for the tall buildings and exciting bustle of Central. The Lieutenant Colonel had promised him funds, and in exchange, Ed would promise him loyalty. But the real promise had been entrusted to Al:

Ed would get his brother's body back.

XxX

Pinako Rockbell watched her honorary grandson stumble down the road on a leg that perhaps needed more time to recover, and her mouth turned downwards in a frown. She knew, from that reaction, Winry was inside crying over yet another mishap. How that boy managed to create so much trouble was beyond her. It was both admirable and insufferable.

"Granny…" Winry sniffled from the doorway. Pinako met her granddaughter's watery gaze and resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn't be doing any more gardening that day. The girl raised the evidence in her hands and her lower lip trembled. "He did it again."

Pinako nodded and slowly clambered to her feet, using the house to aid her. Both knees announced her age with loud cracks. "Wait for me in the lounge, Winry. I need to wash my hands."

Winry gave one last sniff, then did as instructed. Sighing, the eldest Rockbell made her way over to the outside tap and let it wash away the remains of her work. It wasn't enough to banish the grease stains on her palms and beneath her nails, however. She had seen the tattered hair clutched in Winry's small fists, and therefore had a strong idea as to what had made Edward run. After all, it wasn't the first time such a thing had happened. It was beginning to become monotonous.

"You idiot boy," she muttered humourlessly, and shut off the tap. "What's she gonna tell me today?"

Winry was waiting on the couch, just as her granny had specified. Her feet were still. Her fingers were fidgeting. Her expression was miserable. Edward's condition affected her much more than anyone else.

Beautiful blue eyes glanced up as Pinako took the seat beside her and rubbed her shoulder in a comforting manner. She would have offered a smile, but knew that to be useless. When it came to this, nothing could raise Winry's spirits except Winry.

"What happened this time?" Pinako asked gently, continuing to rub her granddaughter's shaking back.

"H-he had Lucy," Winry hiccupped and scrubbed at her blotchy face. "We were playing dolls. They were ha-having a tea party, and h-he… E-Ed…"

"He unravelled Lucy's hair?" Pinako urged as Winry's gaze fell to the floor and she nodded.

"He said i-it was caught in his automail, Granny. He doesn't ha-have an automail hand!" With that, the girl dropped Lucy and wound tight arms around her granny's waist. "B-but he was—was so… so convinced th-that her hair was caught on a bolt. H-he," she gasped for breath, "was just pulling it apart. I saw! I really saw, Granny!"

As Winry's hiccups evolved into sobs, Pinako tried to calm her with gentle noises and kind words. They came automatically now; she'd been forced to do this so often it had become routine. A sympathetic ear worked wonders for her young charge, even if it offered no advice. Perhaps Winry wasn't after advice—perhaps she only wanted someone to listen and murmur empathetically as she unburdened herself of her worries.

"Granny?" The girl lifted her tearful eyes and filled them with so much distress it tugged at Pinako's conscience. How could she have let the situation spiral so far out of control? She should have done something the night she had found Edward lying—half dead—in their basement. Alone. "Granny? How do we help him? He's sick, isn't he?"

Pinako's expression tightened. 'Sick' was such a versatile word. But yes, Edward was sick. And so she nodded. "I'm afraid he is, sweetheart."

"But w-we can fix it."

"Of course we can," Pinako lied, holding Winry tightly so the girl wouldn't see the doubt on her lined face. It was so hard to hide a worry when it carved chasms in her skin. "He's already getting better, isn't he? It's just shock, Winry; he'll break out of it."

Winry nodded against her chest. "E-Ed's strong, right, Granny? Will he be normal soon?"

Pinako let out a quiet, soothing chuckle. "Oh, Winry. When has that boy ever been normal?"

Winry replied with a giggle, her tears banished by a series of untruths. Pinako so wished she was able to dispel her own fears with such ease. But no—there they remained, at the forefront of her mind.

"Would you like to start dinner?" the old woman asked, stroking Winry's arm in encouragement, and Winry agreed in a soft mumble. "What will you make?"

"Stew," the girl said as she jumped from the couch and headed towards the kitchen. "So you tell Ed that I'm making his favourite, and that he'd better come home."

Pinako smiled, but then her granddaughter paused.

"And," she turned back to fix Pinako with a displeased expression, "tell him he still needs to fix Lucy's hair." Huffing, she disappeared in a flash of blonde and pink.

XxX

Edward only had one hiding place. Oh, there was the old Elric household, standing dark and dusty at the top of the hill. There was the riverbank that Alphonse once favoured. There were numerous abandoned animal holes and hollow trees in which a young boy could have fit. But Pinako knew to ignore them. Edward only had one hiding place.

And it wasn't very hidden. The crown of his golden head was visible as soon as the cemetery came into view. Among the grey headstones, he stood out like a beacon, though not necessarily one of hope or any form of positivity. Maybe he had been one, once upon a time, before the fairy tale ended. But that was a long time ago. Before his father left, and his mother died. Before he abandoned any hope of a normal childhood, and instead pursued forbidden alchemy. Before he executed that forbidden alchemy, and sacrificed his left leg.

Before he lost his brother.

Pinako had considered herself a rather adequate replacement for the boy's parents—for their mother, at the very least—but even the greatest must struggle through defeat, and she was far from the greatest. She had allowed her foster sons to run off with two complete strangers, ignorant to the reason behind their desire to learn alchemy. But wasn't it obvious? After all that time, and thought, the paths that led to this present problem were straight and clear. It was only later that the thorns appeared. And so, if anyone ever asked the Rockbell monarch what her worst failure was, she wouldn't say 'The Elric brothers', because that was a complete lie. They weren't her failures. Her own lack of knowledge was to blame.

"Edward," she said when the ends of her shadow tickled the child's neck. He didn't reply; only his taut shoulders betrayed his awareness of her. "Edward. I want to talk to you."

"I didn't mean to ruin her stupid doll," Edward muttered petulantly. He then waited a few seconds, and replied, "Yeah, I know."

The second statement caused Pinako's brow to crease in concern, as it wasn't meant for her. It was meant for the hallucination that had followed him ever since the failed transmutation: Alphonse, in the form of a large suit of armour.

Apparently.

"I'm not here to talk about the doll, Edward," Pinako revealed, and if anything, the boy grew more wary.

"Then what?"

For a few moments, Pinako contemplated sitting beside her grandson. But her old bones seemed to creak at the idea, projecting their displeasure at the idea quite vocally. "I just wanted to talk." To be honest, she was at a loss for words.

Ed grunted and wound his thin arms tighter around his knees. "I don't wanna talk. Not to you."

"What about Winry?"

He shook his head vigorously, sending his golden bangs flying in all directions. "She can't, Al. Just shut it."

"Edward." Oh, to hell with it. Pinako laid the blanket she had brought for her grandson on the ground and carefully lowered herself down. "Can we speak privately, please?"

He looked across to her suspiciously. "Why can't Al stay? He won't interrupt, right, Al." Whatever the hallucination said appeared to appease Ed, as he turned back to Pinako with a wide—if cautious—grin. "See?"

She matched it as well as she was able. Allowing Edward to continue in the manner in which he was—that is, believing that his brother still walked beside him every day—was dangerous, and she knew it. She knew it, but couldn't stop. Because whenever she or Winry or any of the several doctors Ed had met so much as alluded to the word 'hallucinations', Edward shut down.

It was terrifying, to see that face which held so much trust crumple so quickly into cagey despair. Maybe Edward didn't notice the sorrow he displayed; maybe it was subconscious. It seemed that even if his mind couldn't focus on reality, his instincts were trying their best to warn him regardless.

It was for that reason Pinako couldn't bring herself to utter those simple, damning words. 'Edward, Alphonse hasn't been here for a long time'. 'Edward, you need to snap out of it.'

'Edward, I'm worried about you'.

It was cowardly. Selfish. But she couldn't say anything, at the risk of losing both of the Elric brothers. The youngest to death, and the eldest to hatred. Pinako knew how the mind worked; she wasn't ignorant in the least. Nevertheless, she couldn't lose Edward. Because she was cowardly. And selfish.

"Granny?" the child in her thoughts questioned. "You're not saying anything. Are you okay?"

She wanted to ask him the same. Affixing a sincere smile to her wrinkled lips, Pinako convinced him that she was perfectly alright, then mentioned the stew Winry had bubbling on the stove. By that time, the sun was low enough to graze the horizon and stain the sky a dazzling orange. The first stars were sparkling into existence in the west, and she knew Ed to be hungry. Yet still he shrugged stubbornly and refused to meet her eyes.

"I'll come home later," he said. "Promise."

"Edw—"

"Al can keep me safe!" Ed insisted, suddenly frantic at the notion that he might be forced home for dinner. "Really, he can! And I can run fine all on my own, Granny. My balance is a little off, but I haven't needed the crutch for almost two weeks!"

"Alright, bean," Pinako agreed mirthfully, ignoring his squawk of protest and his insistence that he was not short. "As long as you promise me something."

"I can really stay?" He sounded stunned, and slightly breathless.

"The promise, Edward," Pinako reminded him as she began the arduous task of getting to her feet. "I need you to do something for me, too."

Ed swivelled around to the empty space on the left of his mother's grave, and spoke to it, "Yeah, that's right!" He directed his brilliant grin back to Pinako. "It's just like equivalent exchange, Granny."

"Then you'll agree?"

Ed nodded.

Pinako let out a sigh of relief when she was once more upright. "Then I want you to promise that you'll always come to me when you need help."

"Like if I scratch Winry's automail," he asked, "and she finds out?"

"Anything," she assured him, and watched as a small frown creased his brow.

"That doesn't sound equivalent," he said carefully.

Pinako quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? Then I guess you just have to help me with the gardening, too."

She left before his groaning complaints became too loud.

XxX

"Do you think she's serious, Brother?" Al asked once Granny was a fair way down the road.

"About the gardening?" Ed grumbled, setting his chin in his palm and leaning forward. "Probably. And she knows I hate gardening! The dirt gets caught in my hand and it's hard to get out." Gently, he flexed the automail in question. "It's stiff for days."

There came a series of loud creaks and screeches as Alphonse sat down, legs crossed in an imitation of his brother. Ed studied him, expression hardening as the armour let out a quiet chuckle.

"Not that," Alphonse laughed. "About the help thing."

Ed blew a strong puff of air through his nose, showing exactly what he thought of her offer. "I'd've done that anyway! Winry gets way too mad about the little things. You know, just last week, she hit me over the head with one of her tools!"

"It was a wrench, brother."

"Whatever it was, it hurt. Do I have a bruise, Al?"

Al shook his head, making no effort to come any closer. "You made me check yesterday, Brother, and there wasn't anything there."

Ed huffed and rubbed at the offended area, a couple of inches above his right eye. "It feels like a bruise," he muttered bitterly.

"That's because you keep touching it," his brother—always the voice of logic—pointed out, before rapidly changing the subject. "Why did we come here, brother? You know I hate it here."

Edward shrugged, hiding the twinge of guilt he felt upon remembering Al's aversion to the cemetery. "It was the first place I thought of."

"What about Rain River?" Alphonse suggested, almost as if he were nervous.

"Too cold this time of year." As if to accentuate his claim, a shiver racked through his body and he was forced to reach for the blanket that Granny had kindly forgotten. "My automail'll freeze and you'll have to carry me home," he joked. Alphonse had clearly stated, one week after obtaining his new body, that he didn't trust himself to carry Edward any longer. That horrific night—most of which Ed couldn't recall—was the first, and last, time that Al would do such a thing.

Al didn't reply. Ed followed the path of his younger brother's glowing eyes to where they settled on the empty gravestone.

"I hate that thing," Alphonse whispered, the steel in his arms creaking as they tightened their hold.

"Mm," Ed hummed in vague agreement, and reached forward to touch the stone's rough surface. "It's weird that it's still here. Shouldn't someone get rid of it? There's no one buried there."

That was true; the grassed ground was flat. Merely the headstone disturbed the landscape around the unmarked grave, which only increased the boys' suspicion. Ed withdrew his fingers with a shudder and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, telling himself that the nausea pooling in his stomach was due to the plummeting temperature. Nothing else.

"Brother…" Al said softly, leaning in as if he were about to tuck a strand of hair behind Ed's ear. He paused at the last moment and moved away. "You're cold. Don't you wanna go back?"

Ed refused the suggestion. "It's barely been twenty minutes, Al. Winry would kill us."

"Wh-what?" Al sputtered. "Why me, too?

"I don't understand how her mind works!" Ed countered defensively, turning his nose up in indignation. "She's a girl."

"But, Brother! You're gonna get sick!"

"I'm staying here," he insisted. "All night."

But it wasn't long before he sat down at the kitchen table, a warm bowl of steaming stew gently soothing his wounded pride. If only it could block out Al's snickers, as well.

XxX

It was late that night when the phone rang.

The stars were out in full force, made brighter by the new moon and clear skies. The dishes from dinner were drying on the rack beside the sink, water dripping slowly, steadily. Edward was practically falling asleep where he lay on the lounge, grudgingly thankful that he hadn't stayed out all night, as had been the plan. Winry didn't react as violently as he had come to expect; she merely thrust her doll into his face and demanded that he fix her. A simple clap of the hands had dealt with that.

And so, when a shrill ring split the air, Edward fell straight to the floor in front of the fireplace, blinking in shock at the unplanned displacement. Winry giggled, though the action was tired, and voiced a few teasing insults that Ed didn't have the will to understand. He was tired, too.

That all changed, however, when Pinako seized the telephone and her expression stiffened into one that was all too recognisable.

The military was calling him.

Ed noticed the way his grandmother's lined face seemed to grow more lines, the way the corners of her eyes tightened almost unperceptively. Her gnarled hands tightened on the large handset, the knuckles turning white in her displeasure. He also noticed how her jaw clenched, spine straightened, and chin lifted in a display of defiance that was wasted over the phone. He noticed because he'd seen it all before.

So he held his breath, in the hope that she would forget all of her previous misgivings with the military, and allow him to speak. Just when he was beginning to feel lightheaded, Granny chanced a quick look at him and emphatically narrowed her eyes. Ed was to go to bed—at once, no questions asked. He let out his lungful of air in a loud gasp, earning another of Winry's giggles, and pretended that he didn't understand Pinako's request.

She turned back to the two children and waved them towards the bedrooms, muttering a hard, "I see," into the mouthpiece. Winry stood obediently, her expression one of wary curiosity. But Ed didn't react to her soft insistences that he come, too; he was straining to hear any of the Lt. Colonel's words. All that he could discern was a low voice.

Ed jumped slightly when Granny hurriedly covered the mouthpiece and hissed at him, "Go to bed, Edward! I'm not saying it again!"

"You didn't say it the first time," he retorted. Winry chose that moment to make her escape, leaving Ed alone. Even Al had decided to abandon his brother.

"I'm serious, Edward," Pinako continued, then she held up the phone. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to call you back."

Ed's stomach dropped through the floor. No—she couldn't let the Lieutenant hang up before Ed had the chance to talk to him! This was his future they were talking about! His and Al's! Before his mind caught up, Ed sprang over the back of the couch and snatched the telephone from his grandmother. She reached for him, and he ducked, sliding on the seat of his pants in the direction of the kitchen.

"Edward!"

"Hello?" he said breathlessly, the dark earpiece pressed tightly to the side of his head. "Hello, Lieutenant Colonel? Are you there?"

There were a few beats of silence before the other person replied uncertainly. "Is this Edward?"

Ed's face split in a grin even as he dodged around an armchair. "Yeah, it is. Are you calling about the exam? Because I'm ready now."

"Are you?" the deep voice chuckled. "And what does your grandmother think of that?"

"I don't think I should tell you what she thinks of you."

"Oh, really?" the Lt. Colonel said mirthfully. Ed heard a creak as the man leant back in his chair. It was barely audible, however, above the commotion in the Rockbell home.

Edward let out a strangled cry as strong arms wound around his chest, effectively holding him in place as Pinako wrestled the phone from his grasp. It all happened so fast—he barely had time to choke out a goodbye before it flew too far away. The coiled cord was wound all over the room—on chairs and the couch and even a doorknob, though Ed couldn't remember ever passing by that door. When Pinako released it, the black handset skidded far across the floor, as if to escape.

"Let me go, you old hag!" Ed yelled, kicking his legs wildly in an effort to make contact with his captor. "I was talking!"

"I will not let you go until you listen to reason, tiny brat!" Pinako dodged a liberated elbow and strengthened her grip. "Do you want that man to hear your meltdown? Do you?"

"He wouldn't have to if you'd just let me speak to him!"

"Do you?"

"No!" Edward howled and sunk to the ground, his arm held high above his head. No matter what he tried, he couldn't get free. The first pricks of frustrated tears burnt in his eyes. "No, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Then what're you gonna do, Edward?"

Ed looked around frantically, searching for someone who wasn't there. "Al! Al!"

Pinako shook his thin arm, ignoring his panicked gasps for breath. "What are you gonna do, Edward?"

"I'll go to my room!" he wailed, and began to claw at her fingers. "I'll go to my room and stay there 'till you say I can come out! I promise, Granny! I promise!"

"Alright, then." She dropped him, and watched as he blinked up at her, dazed at the rapid change. "You'll go straight to your room, y'hear, pipsqueak? We'll talk about your punishment tomorrow."

Ed sat there, gaping, for several more seconds before the words pierced his brain. Once they had, he wasted no time in scrambling to his feet and flying down the hallway. But he didn't go straight to his room. He paused at the exact place where deep shadows would hide him from his grandmother's fading sight.

Edward watched as Granny pushed up her glasses to rub at the ridge of her nose, appearing deep in thought. She exhaled slowly and Ed felt a tug of guilt pulling him towards his punishment. It wasn't fair that he put so much pressure on her—but he couldn't help it! Al was the calm half of the Elric brothers; Granny and Winry didn't even notice him over Ed's selfish antics.

As Pinako shuffled over to the phone and carefully bent to reach it, Edward found it impossible to ignore the fatigue he hadn't seen before. It was his fault—he was far too much trouble for an elderly woman. Something similar to remorse settled heavily in his gut, and it was immediately too difficult to watch her struggle any longer—especially since she had asked him to leave.

Knowing that he wouldn't sleep at all, Ed turned towards his bed.

XxX

"I'm sorry about that," Pinako began as soon as she picked up the phone. It had been such a battle to do that—she wanted nothing more than to yell down the line and throw it against the wall in her frustration. Damn that boy!

"Oh, no," the caller said calmly. Pinako's frown deepened in annoyance as she detected a note of amusement in the voice she hated so much. The voice that wanted to take her grandson away. "Think nothing of it. Shall we continue?"

"I don't see what there is to continue."

Lt. Colonel Mustang paused. "We were talking about Edward's future. If he should choose to pursue a career in the military, I am sure that he would be more than welcome."

"I've heard this before, Lieutenant Colonel," Pinako said, allowing an edge to creep into her voice. "And you've already heard my answer. I will not allow a twelve year old boy to go to war."

"There is no guarantee that Edward would be sent to war," Mustang replied sharply. "I can say with almost absolute certainty that he will not be sent anywhere near the frontlines, should a conflict arise."

"Then surely there is no need for him to join." Pinako eased her weary body into the armchair by the fire, listening to the crackle of flames to calm herself. "Having a soldier who is unable to fight will be nothing but a liability to your team. I cannot believe that you have children of your own, Lieutenant Colonel, or you would know how much work they can be. Will you have a child parading through the streets of Central—alone?"

"With all respect, Mrs Rockbell, this is not your decision. It's up to Edward to—"

"It is my decision!" Pinako exploded, leaping up from the chair in which she had only just become comfortable. "Edward has been my responsibility since his mother died, and he will continue to be so until he reaches adulthood! If you insist on bothering us with your idiotic ideas, I'll be forced to take up this matter with your superior, Mustang!"

There was a long bout of quiet. Pinako could hear the Lt. Colonel taking deep, steady, relaxing breaths, as if he were trying his hardest to stay civil. This mental image brought a cynical smile to her face; a vile satisfaction made her stand just a little taller. Just breaking such a composed man out of his composure filled her with pleasure. But his next question had her aged knees going weak.

"How will you tell Edward that you won't let him join?" the man asked, infuriatingly logical. "I'm not offering this purely for my own means, Mrs Rockbell. I need a strong alchemist on my team, and he needs the means to return his brother to his rightful state."

Pinako sat again and rubbed a palm over her forehead, withholding a large sigh. "Lieutenant Colonel," she began, trying to his her uncertainty. "In the hour and twenty minutes you spent intruding in my house, did you ever once see a walking suit of armour?"

Mustang remained silent, allowing Pinako to plead her next case.

"Edward… isn't healthy, Lieutenant Colonel. And I'm not talking about the automail surgery. Perhaps, if you one day return, I'll lead you to the spot where Alphonse is buried. Or I'll show you the suit of armour that Ed claims follows him around." She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose to alleviate the pressure building in her head. "It hasn't moved one inch in over a decade—and it has never moved on its own."

"So what you're saying," Mustang persisted, seemingly oblivious to his listener's open hostility, "Is that Edward should be… tested, to see if this is no more than a stubborn imaginary friend? Haven't you contacted any doctors?"

"Two so far." Her mouth settled in a thin, displeased line. "My granddaughter and I decided that method was doing more harm than good. I refuse to welcome another damn doctor in my home—even a bloody soldier would be preferable!"

"Then we appear to be at a standstill," the Lt. Colonel said with that previous, irritating amusement all too prominent. "Unless you would like to hear my proposition?"

Suddenly wary—and with good reason—the elderly woman directed her gaze at the fire crackling merrily behind its shield of perforated metal. An elegant floral pattern chased the edges, blacked by tongues of flame over the years. Staring at it brought back memories of working in her parents' shop, even before she was certain to carry on the Rockbell name. Back then, she had been content making art out of scraps. Now, she was trying to make a boy out of jagged pieces.

"I'll listen to it," Pinako yielded. Already she was thinking through a definite, clear refusal. One that Mustang would be sure to remember.

A slight chuckle filtered through the rough line. That bastard—was he laughing at her? Yet he sounded nothing but polite when he offered his suggestion.

"I will send one of my men."

Pinako waited a beat, to ascertain whether he was joking, and then she let out a loud laugh. Had Winry been in the room, she would have no doubt been staring up at her grandmother with wide, alarmed blue eyes. That girl was always so concerned, ever since her orphaning.

"I'm serious!" Mustang exclaimed as if he'd never once been laughed at.

"Oh, I'm sure you are!" Pinako assured him. "And that is what makes your idea so idiotic! Are you honestly so desperate?"

Without missing a breath, Mustang replied, "Yes."

"Then I worry about the state of our military."

"Again," he stressed, and Pinako fancied she could hear his teeth grind together, "This isn't just for me. I'll send someone who I feel is qualified, and he will give us both reports on Edward's mental health."

"How can a soldier judge a little boy's mental health?" she asked in mild offence.

"Is that a yes or a no, Mrs Rockbell?"