Well, I did it. I made a prequel for Just a Call and just in time for Roy/Ed week! Enjoy!

Day 1: Domestic

Thank you to hellosweetie17 for beta'ing this work and putting up with me. She's awesome. Check her work out!

Roy slammed his head onto his desk with a low groan. He just could not believe that such morons still existed. Grumman had called him into a meeting that was suppose to start shaping the people's rights for their government. But nooo... naturally, it would not be that simple.

When was anything ever that simple?

It had taken the last year after Fuhrer Bradley's reign to get this far. Many late nights, meetings, favors, and—let's not forget—the mountains of paperwork. The paperwork alone was enough to make Roy shudder. Now, it was pointless. Just fucking pointless. All because of his royal dumbass General Hakuro. Roy rubbed his temples. Now he was starting to sound like Fullmetal. Hakuro had single handedly sabotage his hard work. The purpose of the proposal was to start the construction of a Bill of Rights. He was so close to his dream— to give the people a voice. Be that as it may, Hakuro had struck it down with ill-informed arguments. The damn truth of the matter was that Command was still too afraid to give up their power.

Now, it would be more restless nights, meetings, more favors just to get each player into the correct place. Roy was not even going to consider the paperwork. He knew it would be waiting with Riza's gun cocked—ready to go. Roy gave another shudder and wondered if he could feign sick as he rested his head on his arms.

The shrill ring of the phone exploded into his ears, making him jump and toppling his chair backwards. Sniggers of laughter echoed throughout the office. Roy glared at his team as he straightened himself up. The distinctive click of the revolver being cocked vibrated through the walls. Smirking, Roy picked up the shrilling phone.

"Brigadier General Mustang," he cordially answered.

"General, we need your help," a voice whispered, ending with an audible click.

Mustang knew he had heard all kinds of swearing in the background. He just wanted to take a nap somewhere. Was that too much to ask? But no, Al needed his help.

Who knew what kind of trouble Edward had gotten into this time!

Edward had sworn that he didn't start the fight at the Madam's new bar. No, the bastard had it comin', according to Edward. Even without his alchemy, Edward could still be quite terrifying. Terrifying beautiful—yet deadly. Perhaps, he should get Riza to train him. He would be a wonderful asset to the team, alchemy or no. Mustang hummed as he mulled over that thought.

Resting his jacket over his shoulders, he exited the office and nodded to Hawkeye.

"Emergency with one of the girls," he declared, "Hawkeye, keep the house." Briskly walking through the office, he paused and leaned over to his second in command. "Alyssandra needs me to help Edelynn out. I'll be just a moment," he murmured, walking out the door as Havoc moaned over his superior's luck with the women. He grinned when the cock of the gun caused sputtering and apologies within the office.

He knew that he had suggested hobbies to the former alchemist. Edward just needed something to divert his energy into. He had visited the home briefly after the bar incident. Al had mentioned Edward's disastrous attempts at being a handyman. Poor Pinako was still getting leaks in the roof. He would have to send someone to help the woman especially with Winry off in Rush Valley finishing her apprenticeship. Sighing, he stepped into the awaiting car to whatever disaster awaited him.

Why the fuck did he fuckin' try to do this? He fuckin' had his arm back, which took some getting used to, so this shouldn't have been so fuckin' hard. It wasn't his fault, well maybe it was, that he didn't have his alchemy anymore. He just felt so fuckin' useless. Fuck, what if this is what the bastard feels when it rains? Poor ole man. No wonder, he has a fuckin' stick up his ass.

It wasn't like he asked the guy in the bar to insult him and his brother when he turned him down. In spite of it, he was a good little soldier and told him how to stuff it and where. He hadn't even thrown the first punch! But, that got him landed on a train back to Resembool for some "time off, Fullmetal." Fucking good looking bastard thought he knew best when he suggested he find some hobbies. Well, he tried. He fucking tried.

He just wasn't a handy man. He couldn't have apologized enough to the ole biddy, Pinako, especially when the worst storm of the season barreled in and the roof nearly caved in. He wanted to make it better. But he went and forgot about not having his alchemy and kept trying, and trying, until he couldn't anymore. He had started beating the hard floor with his fists screaming—Granny just held him as he sobbed. Al was still too weak at the time to fix it. She had reassured him that she would find someone.

So, handiwork was fucking out. He didn't think he would bake or cook. Fuck, could you see him trying to fuckin' bake a cake or some shit? He would probably fuckin' burn down the damn house. Al would fuckin' kill him. So there he was...stuck.

He had tried to fuckin' knit the crew some sweaters. It had look easy enough. Fuck, he had even gotten a couple of done. But, the one he was making for the delicious looking bastard of an XO ...fuckin' tied him in knots—fuckin' literally— in fuckin' knots. He cursed loudly as he heard a knock on the fuckin' door. WHO THE FUCK WAS COMING OVER? Panicking, Edward jumped trying to get to the door, only to fall and hit the floor with a loud thud. Just fuckin' great.

"GO THE FUCK AWAY! WE DON'T WANT WHAT YOU'RE SELLING?!"

"Oh really, Fullmetal?"

Just FUCK! Why him?! HE was going to FUCKIN' kill AL.

Roy repeated his knock on the door to the Elric residence. He had the car drop him off a little bit aways, claiming that he wanted to stretch his legs before sending it on its way. He waited a few minutes when he heard a loud thud with an awful amount of swearing. Grasping the knob of the door, he turned it, relieved that the door was unlocked. Swinging it open, he looked at the sight before him.

Edward laid in the middle of the room surrounded by outrageous amounts of yarn in a rainbow of colours. Piles of hideous shades of vibrant orange, red, blacks, and any other neon colour were ghastly knitted together. He couldn't even tell what it was suppose to be. Maybe a scarf?

Yet, Edward was the best sight to behold. His golden hair was down in disarray, just begging for someone to run their fingers through it. The ghastly shades of red and orange yarn were wrapped around Edward's legs, climbing towards the delicious, decadent pelvic area and changing into a dark shade of black spiraling towards a lickable shirt-free chest, then changing into a glitter mess of silver, red, and was that purple? The yarn went all the way up and around his neck effectively pinning Edward's muscular arms to his sinfully delicious body. Shaking his head, Roy smirked as Edward yelled his declaration.

"Oh is that so, Fullmetal?"

"Fuck, Mustang. What the fuck are you doing here? Wait no. A-L! I'm gonna fuckin' kill you," Edward sputtered, wiggling himself like a fish on the floor.

Roy raised his eyebrow as Edward began to inch across the floor like a caterpillar. Closing the door, Roy wondered if Edward's caterpillar would transform into something more majestically beautiful than he was already. Damn, Maes would giggle and spiel romantic nonsense (complete with a picture and the glint of his glasses with 'seriously Roy, what are you waiting for') if he could hear him. He needed to stop. Edward was his subordinate. He was young; sinfully so. It would be inappropriate.

Alphonse crossed his arms, standing in the doorway watching the two idiots. For crying out loud, they just needed to kiss or something. He wasn't oblivious and neither was anyone else. The tension between the two of them was just screaming for something. Too bad the morons in front of him couldn't tell that they both were in love with each other. If they didn't make a move on each other soon...So help him.

"Brother, I called him. I am still weak from the Promised Day. I can't help you get untangled. General Mustang offered to help," Alphonse defended weakly, giving his best puppy look to his brother.

Mustang looked at Al with an amused grin. Just what was Al up to?

"Unless of course, you would rather stay down there? You are already gifted wrapped and perfectly sized to fit under a tree in a few weeks," Mustang taunted as he watched the younger man sputter indignantly.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT EVEN FATHER CHRISTMAS WOULD MISTAKE HIM FOR A TOY?!"

Roy gave a hearty laugh as he knelt down besides the beautiful red-faced angel-demon. He carefully began to unlace the knots, humming.

Edward could not believe the gall of the bastard. A fuckin' Christmas present! He glared menacingly at his former CO, who was kneeling over him. His guard nearly dropped when Mustang let out the most wonderful laugh that he had ever heard.

Just fuck. He could not like the fucking bastard. It's not like he was trustworthy, or loyal, or fucking sexy. Just FUCK!

He shifted uncomfortably as Mustang's... Roy's nimble fingers undid the knots binding him. He tried to block out the dirty thoughts of what those fingers and—fuck!—that humming could do to him.

Just fuck!

Edward glanced up, losing himself in the wondrous black gaze of his superior. Blushing, he leaned forward as he felt his arms come free and moistened his lips with a flick of his tongue. He watched as his former commanding officer's eyes dilated with hunger; long fingers reaching out to trace his lips. The General tilted his head and began to descend when the front door banged open, causing both of them to fly apart.

Roy sighed as he straightened himself up. He had almost kissed his subordinate..well, former. Damnit, he hadn't planned for this to happen. Shit, Riza was gonna kill him. He gulped and met the hard stare of his Lieutenant. He hadn't seen the exchange between she and Al.

"Sir, you're needed back at the compound. Jacqueline is giving a show for the boys."

Roy nodded, dusting himself off. He walked over to the door, pausing near his Lieutenant.

"Sir?"

"Hawkeye, help Edward with his predicament and make sure they have what they need before you return," he commanded, trying not to glance at the bewildered Edward as he walked out the door.

He just didn't know what to say. It was a disaster waiting to happen. He really need a drink. Maybe later. Right now, duty called.

Roy groaned, stumbling into his office. It was entirely too bright and too damn early. He had stayed up late… mulling over his problem with a bottle of imported Rum. Damn, the stuff knew how to hit you. He moaned when sounds of vicious laughter greeted his ears.

"Yo, General. Look at what the Boss made us. He's getting kinda crafty," Havoc cheered, proudly displaying his abysmal neon blue sweater with a lopsided figure of grey in the middle. Roy squinted at the figure, wondering what the hell it was besides a fuzzy blob when the voice of a demon greeted him.

"Your eyes getting bad, ole man? Don't ya know what a knight looks like?"

Roy wanted to scream or yell at whatever god or Truth was cursing him. The object of his sad state was currently sitting on Riza's desk with armfuls of hideous yarn made blobs. Roy spun around comically with wide eyes. Shifting nervously around the room was his team in hideous arrays of neon bright sweaters with mismatched sleeves, barely holding themselves together with blobs all done up in the front… He carefully started to backpedal himself out of the room when he felt it. The cool press of the barrel of Riza's favorite gun cocked and ready to go with a click.

"Sir, Edward worked—Very—hard on those for everyone. We wouldn't want to disappoint him, now would we? He even made one special just for you," Riza advised, each word dripping in a silent threat.

He looked up to the golden eyes of Edward, whose cheeks were dusted with a light pink.

Interesting. He would contemplate that later.

"Is that so, Fullmetal?"

"Yeah, well, ya did help me. So, yeah, here," Edward muttered, thrusting an blobby-looking garment of red at him.

Roy held in his grimace while unfolding the gift with military precision. He could feel the tension rolling off of Edward and his subordinates. The sweater, if you could call it that, was a glaring red blob with tones of orange and yellow infused into it; in its center was chair with a blob sitting on it, wearing a crown done in a glittery grey. Maybe it was suppose to be a king on his throne? Honestly, it really resembled a man on the porcelain throne. Hiding his distaste, Roy shrugged off his overcoat and donned the sweater, letting everyone release their collective breath.

Mustang glanced around at the awe struck faces of his unit, stepping towards the younger man.

"Thank you, Edward. I will treasure it," he praised, heading towards his inner office leaving, his team and the Elrics to their own frivolities. Closing the door, he leaned his forehead against the wood and released a bitter laugh. It seemed that Maes may have been right all along. He did know how to pick them.

Check out the sequel, Just a call!

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