It was late spring, but Central was beginning to get to be the kind of pervasive sticky-hot that Jean usually associated with late summer. The days were long but the nights were balmy. Rebecca had taken the first train out of Central to go visit family in the west (an escapade he'd narrowly avoided but only because he genuinely had a lot of work to get through) and that left him alone for the weekend. He'd thought about trying to get the guys together and hit the town like they hadn't done in -geez, way too long- but it had been a long week, there was a great Farmer's Market down K street, and the town could wait.

He was standing in one of the stalls debating the virtues of peaches over nectarines and trying to remember if Becca liked either when he turned to see a familiar head of blonde hair poring over the apricots.

"Hawkeye?" he said, and she turned, grinning when she saw who it was.

"I didn't know you liked the Farmer's Market," she said, sidling over, apricots forgotten."I'm here almost every week." She looked like it too; dressed in a casual long skirt and button up shirt, she had brought her own canvas bags, two of which were already full of produce.

"Friday's usually date night, but Rebecca's out of town," he explained. "Where's Mae?"

"The General's being kind enough to watch her for me," she said casually, picking up a peach, turning it over, and putting it back down. Havoc was sure it was a terrible hardship for him too, spending an evening goofing around with Mae and the elderly Hayate. By the sound of it though, this was a regular part of their weekly routine.

"What are your plans for the rest of the evening?" he asked impulsively, as they walked down the street. The sun was still out but starting to sink deeply towards the horizon, and lights were already going on at the stalls. Somewhere there were street musicians, filling the air with a kind of light, joyous music. She shrugged, rolling down the sleeves of her shirt as she walked.

"Nothing in particular, I've got a few more hours before I'll be expected home."

"Well then madam," he said with the flourish of a hat he didn't actually have, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to grab dinner with your humble subordinate?"

"That's bold of you, asking your fiance's best friend on a date," she said it almost like a challenge, mouth barely quirking upward. He grinned: he knew her well enough by now to know that Hawkeye's faint mouth tic was another man's full blown chuckle.

"Well I'm a bold guy," he replied, offering her his arm.

They walked around for a while, chatting, until they found themselves staring at the pub the all used to frequent, back when they frequented pubs. Hawkeye nudged Jean's shoulder with hers and gave him a grin when he looked over at her.

"For old times sake," she said when he raised his eyebrows.

"Well okay." Who was he to argue with a mom taking a well earned night off? They entered the pub shoulder to shoulder and the bartender took a second glance before calling out:

"I'll be damned – Jean Havoc!"

Havoc felt himself blush and ducked his head a little as he approached the bar. It had been too long since he and the guys had come here after work. Not that long in the grand scheme of things, but long compared to the four-times-a-week habit he and Breda used to have. Now he'd been saving for a wedding and couldn't afford that kind of regular expenditure. But the wedding was paid for and also it was Hawkeye, so he knew he was in for a fairly tame evening.

"Felix, how's it going," he replied. Riza surprised him for the second time – well third if you counted her appearance in the farmer's market – by sliding onto a barstool and ordering for them both. As with most administrative work in her life, she got it exactly right and Jean found a beer sitting in front of him in short order, while she had gotten herself a whiskey. He wondered sardonically who she'd picked that up from.

"Funny, I remember you being a red wine kind of gal," he told her. She shrugged.

"Tastes change. Are you getting nervous about the wedding?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject. "It's what, six weeks away now?"

"Five weeks tomorrow," he barked automatically. He wouldn't know off the top of his head normally but Becca had a giant countdown poster she'd made taped up in their living room and he had been left with strict instructions to cross off the days accordingly in her absence. Riza let out a low whistle and he noticed her glass was somehow empty already. "And uh, a little nervous, mostly because it's a lot of people." she nodded.

"Rebecca has a big family. I met them once – all of them, I mean. She brought me home for the winter solstice my last year in the academy, before I left for Ishval." Her gaze grew distant, but only for a moment before she locked eyes with Felix and he nodded and poured her another. "They're all like Rebecca; loud and friendly. You'll like them."

"I don't know if it's me liking them that matters," he muttered. There was a leaflet on the bar advertising that they did a meat pie special on Fridays, a fact he wasted no time making known to Riza. Their orders placed, they sat in a friendly silence for a time. It was early and the bar was just beginning to fill with the contented buzzing of patrons, the setting sun casting long shadows throughout the room. They'd had a lot of good nights in this bar, he recalled: Fuery's 21st birthday, a post Promised Day celebration that had almost landed Breda in the hospital, a nondescript night years past where he had been so sure the Colonel and Lieutenant would leave together but then at the last minute she had called Rebecca.

"Do you think you'll ever get married?" he asked her, as he finished off his second beer. He would never normally have asked otherwise, he told himself. Particularly since he thought he knew the answer already. She froze for a moment before shaking it off.

"I don't think so," was all she said, staring at the bottom of her glass.

"Well you never know," he said, immediately feeling terrible for asking the question in the first place. "Maybe someday-"

"No," she said flatly, gesturing to Felix, who immediately bustled over. "I don't think so."

It was after her self made curfew when Havoc found himself knocking on the Captain's door, a giggling Hawkeye next to him still looking in her purse for her keys. The door opened almost at once and Jean found himself staring at a bleary-eyed General Mustang, who had most likely been dozing on the couch if the amount of blankets and books were anything to go by.

"I – what happened?" he asked as Riza brushed by him, dropping her purse on the couch and kicking her shoes off as she made her way down the hall. He turned to watch her, eyes narrowed.

"If she wakes Mae up I swear-"

"We ran into each other in town and had dinner," Havoc admitted, shrugging. "And ah, a few drinks. More than a few for some of us. She drinks whiskey now, apparently."

"Yeah," Roy said tiredly, not bothering to make it sound like he didn't know that already. "I guess I'd better go too then."

"Uh, you should probably continue your babysitting duties," Havoc recommended, noting that Riza had emerged in a pair of pajamas and taken up residence on the couch, pulling one of the books off the coffee table and turning pages aimlessly. "I think she could use a cup of tea and maybe some aspirin. And maybe a bedtime story" Roy turned around and Jean caught the barest hint of a fond smile before the General huffed and rolled his eyes.

"She was supposed to be back by ten. I'm a very busy man."

"That's the brakes," Havoc replied, showing Hawkeye's bags of vegetables into Roy's arms before slipping away. Something oddly like guilt gnawed at him, seeing the way Mustang tenderly regarded his Captain. Riza Hawkeye would get married in an instant, he knew, if only it weren't completely illegal.

-x-

"I'm just saying, if you don't have a bachelor party I'm going to be forced to bring the strippers to the wedding, and I don't think Bex would like that," Breda was saying reasonably as they walked back to the office after their lunch break.

"Uncle Havoc, Uncle Breda!"

Jean reflexively bent down to seize the kid running at him as fast as her legs could carry her, and picked her up to swing her around. Mae laughed, clinging to his jacket as he settled her on his hip.

"Hey kiddo!" he said. "Are you here to help us work?"

"Yes," she retorted, as he passed her off to Breda. "Sir said I can be a Major."

A few different names had been tried out for Roy while Mae was still learning to talk. Mr. Mustang had been a possibility, and was Riza's preference, but Roy balked at that. Kain, sweet summer child he was, had suggested that they all be called Uncle but Breda, after a sidelong glance at Havoc, suggested that was ignoring Mustang's leadership role in their squad. Hawkeye's second choice was 'General', which was what they all decided sounded appropriate. Mae was nothing if not an observant child, however and picked the name she heard him called the most.

"A Major, huh?" Breda replied, looking back at the General, who quickly turned back to his paperwork. "That means technically you outrank me and your Uncle Havoc."

"Well she couldn't say Lieutenant, what was I supposed to do?" Mustang asked with a shrug.

"Lu-tent," Mae supplied helpfully. Havoc noted Mustang seemed to be wearing a piece of paper with a clumsily drawn heart pinned to the front of his uniform. The General had outed himself as a canny game-player on The Promised Day, but it was a well-known secret that he was a complete pushover for a certain Hawkeye. No one dared speak about his relationship to the other one, of course, for fear of invoking the wrath of Havoc, Breda, or Rebecca. She could be truly terrifying at times, Havoc thought fondly.

"Where's Hawkeye?" Havoc wanted to know. The Captain sometimes brought Mae up to the office from the military daycare during their lunch hour, but never longer than that. Mustang made it clear he didn't mind, but Riza said none of the other officers got to spend time with their children at work, so she wouldn't either.

"Taking a long lunch; she had an errand to run. I'm under strict orders to take Mae back to the daycare when our lunch hour is over." Jean checked his watch as Fuery walked in and was treated to the same running tackle as the other men.

"Ow, hey, when did you get so big?"

"And our lunch hour today ends at..." Breda began, checking his watch for show.

"The Captain should be back around one-thirty so probably twenty-five after," Mustang admitted. "But without my adjutant here I need someone to watch my back, don't I?" This was aimed at Mae, who giggled and wandered back over to the big desk, where Roy had placed a stack of books on a chair so she could reach.

They all settled in and got back to their work; even Mae busily colored while chatting to the General and occasionally reminding him to do his work. For all that she still looked startlingly, damningly like her father's side of the family, she very much took after Riza in terms of temperament. She was a child of course, and not a battle-hardened soldier, but she was more reserved than any of Havoc's nieces or nephews, and occasionally reports from the child care workers would complain of her being slightly bossy towards the other children.

The door flew open with a bang and Havoc looked up to see one of the last people he had ever expected to walk through the doors of Mustang's office.

"Hey Bastard Mustang, bet you didn't think I'd be gracing the halls of East City anytime soon," crowed Edward Elric: taller, older, but with no more tact than he'd possessed at sixteen. Jean did the math quickly and figured that Ed couldn't be much older that twenty-five, if at all. Edward scanned the office before realizing that the person at Mustang's side wasn't who he was expecting. "Hey when did you replace the Lieutenant?" he asked, walking to the front of the room and eyeing Mae curiously. Mustang shrugged casually but Havoc could see the tension in his jaw.

"Well you know, things have quieted down, so I thought I'd downgrade my security detail. She lets me pay her in crayons and the Captain preferred actual money. It was an easy decision."

"Yeah I'm sure," Ed replied, kneeling so he was on Mae's level, and Havoc remembered suddenly that Ed was a married man with three kids of his own. "Hi kiddo, what's your name?"

"Mae Hawkeye," she said quietly, and Ed glanced sharply up at the General, before looking back at the little girl.

"That's a pretty name. My name's Edward Elric. Do you know how to give a high-five, Mae?" She did, as it happened, and with a nod from Roy demonstrated her budding hand-eye coordination.

"EDWARD ELRIC!" The door burst open once more and what seemed like a horde of blondes entered the room. It took only a moment to recognize Winry Rockbell – Winry Elric, Havoc corrected himself. He hadn't actually seen her since the wedding. And he definitely hadn't seen the two hellions who took it among themselves to immediately lay waste to the office. He could guess at who they were from the letters he'd gotten over the years – the older one was Sam, and Trisha was a little younger than Mae. The baby in Winry's arms had to be Nina.

"Miss Rockbell, it's good to see-" Fuery began and found himself holding the baby in short order as Winry approached her husband, who seemed to be trying to hide behind Mae to Roy's obvious disdain.

"You know our rules," Winry chided tiredly, walking up to the desk. "If one of us is going to run ahead we have to take at least one child with us." Havoc started suddenly: there was a small tug at his sleeve and he looked down to find Trish handing him his own pen.

"Uh, thanks-" another tug and he was being slowly pulled over to the bookshelf.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I don't know what I was thinking-"

"I bet I do; let's see," Winry put her hands on her hips. "Bastard Mustang has no idea I'm even in town, I'd better get up there and surprise him before word travels that I'm back at headquarters!" It was a good impression Jean had to admit.

"I'm sorry, but who's the one who ran off and left me at the train station the second we stopped in Rush Valley?" Ed retorted.

"Well I don't know what you're talking about..." she trailed off, blue eyes meeting wide amber ones as she spotted the little girl staring up at her in wonder. She inhaled sharply and Havoc had a feeling in the pit of his stomach like the moment before something fragile falls and shatters. "General Mustang, is this-"

"Hawkeye's daughter, Mae" Ed cut in quickly, something unspoken passing between him and his wife and Winry pressed a hand to her mouth for a moment, before giving Mae a bright, if a touch watery, smile.

"Hello Mae, I'm Winry! These are Trish, and Nina and Sam... um, somewhere. Sam?"

"Here," came a voice from under Havoc's vacated desk.

"Clearly I've missed something," came a dry voice from the doorway. Riza was back, surveying the room. Spotting Sam under the desk she bent slightly and gave him a smile. "Hi Sam, do you remember me?"

"No," came the sullen voice again.

"Cute kid," Riza deadpanned at Ed, who shrugged. She deftly plucked Nina from Fuery's arms – for all that he was great with Mae he seemed relieved by this – and walked over to the big desk to give Winry a quick squeeze and direct a bemused glance at Mustang.

"Clearly not my fault," he said, and as usual Havoc felt like he'd missed about 80% of the conversation. Which, as usual, he probably had.

"Clearly," she replied, handing him baby Nina, who accepted her with the practiced ease of someone who had held babies too many times to count. "I'll trade you," she added, scooping Mae off the stack of books and pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Mom I'm busy," she complained. The Captain remained unmoved.

"I don't know," the General said. "I think I'm getting the better deal here, this one's fresher. Sorry Mae."

"Hey," the small voice protested.

"Come on, you'll get to see everyone later, okay?" Riza told her daughter firmly, heading towards the door. Mae only squirmed for a moment before accepting her fate and they could all hear a faint 'byeeee sirrrrrr!' echoing in the hall. They all ignored Mustang blinking very hard at the baby he held. Breda produced a candy from somewhere and went to work fishing Sam out from under the desk, and Winry went to make introductions.

With Riza and Mae gone, and the others preoccupied with Winry and the kids, Ed sauntered over to the General, who was still seated in his chair, bouncing the baby on his knee fondly.

"When did you get so good with kids?" Ed asked quietly. Mustang looked up in surprise, and handed the baby back somewhat reluctantly.

"They get big too fast," he said. "But you know that, huh Fullmetal?"

"That's what Winry always says, and then next thing I know we have another mouth to feed," Ed told him, leaning against the desk. "You seem really fond of Mae. Ever thought about having one of your own?" the General's shoulders went rigid under his uniform coat.

"Maybe someday," he said flippantly.

"Cut the shit, Mustang," Ed said, tone suddenly hard, barely loud enough for Havoc to hear from where he stood by the bookshelf with Trish, who was "reading" to him and Fuery from one of the books. "How do you think she's gonna feel about you when all this comes out?"

"I don't know what you're talking-"

"I said cut the shit, okay, that kid looks exactly like you."

"Look Fullmetal, you don't know what the hell you're talking about," Roy's furious whisper was so unexpected Havoc had to fight not to look over at them. "This isn't easy but it's better for her than having two ex-military parents whose careers and lives were ruined by a fraternization scandal. I know what you're thinking and I'm nothing like Hohenheim. I'm there for her." Havoc chanced a look and saw Ed's shoulders visibly relax.

"I know – I mean, I'm sorry. You clearly are. You were there for Al and me too, of course you'd be there for … for Hawkeye's kid." Mustang shuffled some papers around.

"I've been working with my adjutant for a long time," he said. "It's only natural I would help her out."

"Do you get to spend a lot of time with Mae?" Ed asked quietly, and Havoc had to strain to hear the soft reply.

"Not enough."

-x-

The bachelor party ended up not being so much a party as a standard Friday night. Well, a standard Friday night that they would have had several years ago, plus Fullmetal was there. Havoc was amused to see that Ed turned up his nose when Roy asked if he wanted a scotch, and opted for a beer like the other men.

It was nearing midnight when a peal of laughter made Jean look towards the door, to see a familiar head of bushy brown hair entering the bar. It was Rebecca, followed closely by Riza. Judging from their flushed faces and relaxed expressions, they'd been out for drinks and had decided to crash his bachelor party.

"There they are!" Rebecca crowed, and danced over to twine her arms around Havoc's neck.

"And that's my cue to go," Ed told the room at large, draining his glass and catching the bartender's attention. "It's getting late and Winry's expecting me. Hey, thanks, you can put those on his tab," this was directed at the bartender, with a jerk of his thumb towards Mustang to indicate whose tab he meant exactly.

"Hey wait a minute, I'm not-"

"Thanks again Colonel, see ya," and with that he was gone, Riza sliding in to take his seat between Roy and Breda.

"That's General to y- ah he's gone."

"I'm pretty sure the point of a Bachelor party is to celebrate, um, being apart?" Jean said to Rebecca, who was currently playing with his hair. Her own hair was wind-tousled and her cheeks were flushed prettily and he decided that time apart wasn't actually worth observing, anyway.

"Well after the last round of shots she decided that she missed you and the party was over," Riza said with a shrug, and Havoc noticed that the scotch that had been sitting in front of the General was now in Riza's hand. She at first glance seemed to be holding it together better than Rebecca but her eyes were a little too bright and her shoulder a little too close to Mustang's. He didn't seem to mind, actually pretending to stretch and setting his arm along the backs of both of their chairs. Havoc looked around the bar quickly but didn't see anyone but civilians. Most military preferred a slightly nicer bar that was closer to work. He caught Breda's eye and gave a small nod towards their superior officers. They weren't on Hawkeye and Mustang levels of nonverbal communication but they had the basics down. Breda raised his eyebrows and took a sip of his beer.

"Who's watching Mae, Riza?" Breda wanted to know, regarding the Captain and Brigadier General curiously.

"She's with Gracia," Riza said, taking another sip of scotch, before sitting up straight and deliberately setting the glass down as though she'd just remembered something. "Hayate is too, actually, since she hates going anywhere without him. So I guess I'm on my own tonight," she said, and Havoc made a mental note that Hawkeye was not, under any circumstances, ever allowed to drink while on an undercover mission. She got sloppy. Mustang seemed to be having a hard time catching on which made Jean more than a little annoyed– years of stealing Havoc's girlfriends and now he can't be bothered to pay attention-

"You'd better have one of us walk you home then," Havoc said casually.

"Guys, I think the Captain is way more able to take care of herself than any of us," Fuery said, rightly. Jean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. So now he had two clueless coworkers and one who was worse at acting than her four-year-old daughter.

"Safety in numbers," he intoned. "And Becca's sure not walking her home."

"My butt is a deadly weapon," Rebecca muttered into his shoulder, seemingly half-asleep despite the noise of the bar. Also an excellent point, he had to admit.

"Well I suppose," Roy began, "as her superior officer I can make sure the Captain gets home safe." Fucking finally, Havoc thought to himself.

"That seems unnecessary, sir, but if you insist," Riza told him, however her eyes were saying something else entirely. Havoc looked away, thinking that maybe that was a conversation he didn't actually want to be a part of.

"I'll go pay my tab then," he said as Riza gave a huge, fake yawn. Within minutes they were strolling out of the bar, Mustang's hand at the small of Hawkeye's back. Purely for balance, Havoc thought snidely. Breda took a large swig of his beer.

"Why did we facilitate that?" he asked, as Fuery stared out the door after them.

"Because we're optimists?" Jean replied, finishing his own drink.

"Philanthropists," Breda corrected him. "Trying to keep a little girl from growing up in a broken home." There was a sudden gasp from Fuery.

"They're together together, aren't they?"

It wasn't really his fault he couldn't hold his liquor but this still earned him groans from the other three. A beat, and then:

"I mean, of course not," Rebecca said, half-muffled by Jean's shirt, which felt distinctly warm, like she'd been talking directly into the fabric.

"Strictly professional," Breda agreed.

"Eh I don't know," Havoc said, looking out the open door where he could faintly see the two still walking down the street, now unmistakably hand in hand. "I think those two crazy kids will work it out someday."

"You're drunk," Rebecca slurred, tugging at his sleeve. "Come on, let's go home and I'll let you make me some toast."

-x-

As it happened, married life was so similar to unmarried life it was virtually impossible to tell the difference. It was nearing 11pm on a Tuesday and Jean's blushing bride was yawning widely next to him, hair akimbo and face shiny with something she kept in a small glass pot by the bathroom sink that was, in his opinion, exorbitantly expensive when one considered the amount that was actually in the container. The only real difference, he mused, was that the expensive face cream was now half his.

"Stop that," she instructed, and yawned again.

"What?' he asked, blinking. He just realized he'd been completely ignoring the book in front of him.

"Staring at me, it's creepy. I know I'm radiant but seriously, I can get you a picture so you stop bugging me while I'm trying to read."

"But the picture would lack your natural charm," he said, grinning, setting the open book down on his lap. They were propped up side by side in bed, him with a fairly dry history book he was trying to get through just to say he had, and her with a trashy periodical she was genuinely enjoying.

"True," she agreed.

"And a picture wouldn't smell as nice," he said, leaning in to plant a kiss on her jaw, careful to avoid the parts of her face coated in the excretions of some-bug-or-other, he tried not to think too much about it.

"Also very true," she purred, setting her magazine down on her lap and turning her face towards his. He brushed his lips lightly against hers, shifting to turn his body inwards, one hand running through her hair. God he loved her hair. Once a year she threatened to cut it all off because it was so unmanageable but that was precisely what he loved about it. He ducked his head to trail kisses along her shoulder as she tossed the magazine aside.

The doorbell rang.

"Is there even the smallest chance that's not incredibly important?" He asked, mouth still pressed to her skin. She sighed and it was a moment before she replied, sounding as though it was taking great force of will to get the words out.

"No, there isn't," she muttered, irritated. "Tell you what, if it's my best friend, I owe you a favor and if it's yours, you owe me one." And with that she slid out of bed, heading for the door, leaving Havoc dazed and blinking.

"Wait, who's my best friend?" he asked as she headed out of the room. In response she turned and cocked an eyebrow before turning back around and marching towards the door. He guessed she had a point; you didn't make a guy your best man for no reason. But if it was Roy at the door, he swore to himself, he'd make sure he paid for it in paperwork.

He meandered out to the front room after his wife, tugging on a t-shirt, to find the answer to their bet sitting in her arms. Mae was dressed for bed, in a bright purple onesie, a stuffed bear in her arms. She was also yawning and from the looks of it had been plucked out of her crib.

"I'm so sorry to do this," Riza was saying. She was in uniform, and Jean wondered for a moment why he hadn't gotten a call if they were on a case. But she was on a case; he wasn't. He'd actually been loaned out, in a sense, to a general currently without a sharpshooter, and while he was still technically under Mustang's command, he wasn't in the office this week. "Fuery just got the intel; it's probably going to be an all-night stakeout I'm afraid. If I'm not done in the morning you can drop her off at the military childcare; they have both your names." Becca's arms were full of toddler so Havoc relieved Riza of the massive duffel bag.

"Anytime," Becca said, stroking Mae's small black pigtails. "We love our niece don't we?"

"Yeah of course," Jean replied.

"Thank you so much, I'll call in the morning if I can," and like that she was gone, racing off into the night towards her parked car which, Havoc noted, didn't appear to be empty. He set the bag down and looked at his wife, who yawned hugely, seeming entirely unbothered.

"Well I'm going to bed, wake me if you set something on fire. Or don't, whatever."

"Wait, aren't you going to help-"

"Nu-uh, I'm calling in my favor early. Sweet dreams." She headed down the hall and he realized she was serious.

"What do you mean favor, it was your best friend! You lost!" His indignant squawking was causing Mae to wake up further, and he swayed slightly in place as a countermeasure.

"Nope," Rebecca said triumphantly, pointing at Mae, who was now gazing wide-eyed between the two of them. "It was yours." And with that she vanished, leaving Havoc holding the little girl, who was already squirming to get down. He adjusted his grip so he was holding her under one arm and she giggled.

"Uncle Havoc!"

"Guess it's just you and me, kid. Now, what story do you want to hear before bed?"

"The stabbing lady," she replied instantly, naming a very watered-down version of the time Havoc had been paralyzed by a homunculus in the Fifth Laboratory. Ironic because he had faced death again when Riza caught wind he'd told that story to her toddler. In his defense it had been very late and they were out of children's books.

"The stabbing lady it is."