Disclaimer: Don't own Full Metal Alchemist. Making no money. Please don't sue. See Author's Notes at the end of the chapter. Anime-based ONLY. Spoilers through Conqueror of Shamballa.

This is the third and final story in this arc, a sequel to my never-ending one-shot Perfect After All, and its spawn Perfect After All: The Fusing Alchemist. It could possibly stand alone, but I would recommend you read Perfect After All first, if not both of them.

- x -

Two Years Ago

The stillness was unnatural.

He couldn't help but notice it. After the sky had darkened with the woodland birds, there was nothing left to make noise. No squirrels, bickering animatedly at each other as they fought over seeds. It was too early for the crickets to begin serenading their lovers, but the absence of the chittering, shade-loving beetles was almost painful, like a low-grade headache. It wasn't something you noticed at first, but once you had, there was no ignoring it.

There was not a breath of wind under the canopy, and while the heat of the late spring was only just enough to make running a sweaty affair, the silence made it seem oppressive and humid.

Something had scared everything away. Everything with sense.

Everything but them.

Then again, momma said they didn't have the sense given a dung-bug, but that was just because of Finn. Finn and his preoccupation with naked women.

Arei glanced at his next-door neighbor, forgoing apprehension for flat-out dissent. "This ain't right, Finn."

The older boy was still, shoulder against an ancient pine and eyes up. He had his head cocked, as if listening to something, but Arei was pretty sure that was just for show.

"They'd have to be powerful ugly folk to scare off the birds," he tried again, barely about a whisper. Naked or not, he didn't think a body, or even a dozen, were capable of causing that mass flight.

Finn waved a hand in his general direction, letting it flap uselessly at the end of his wrist. "Shh. I hear something."

The hell he did. He'd been hearing 'chants from their weird rituals' for the last two miles, supposedly, and 'smellin' smoke from the bonfires.' The only thing Arei could smell was the damp green ferns and the soft black earth. No smoke, no chants, and most noticeably, no naked women.

Or men. There'd been some men in the group that had headed out. He wasn't looking much forward to seeing that.

"You don't hear nothing," he scoffed, but he stayed crouched behind the yew anyway.

There wasn't any doubt; something had frightened the wildlife. And whatever it had been wasn't a loud noise. They hadn't heard anything. Hadn't seen anything.

Finn flapped the hand more emphatically at him. "Hear it? Crashin' through the brush like that?"

Admittedly, he was surrounded by thick brush, so he really wouldn't have heard anything even if a herd of deer were headed their way. Which wasn't unlikely; their wood had its share of large creatures, and it seemed as if something that would scare away so many birds and squirrels would spook the larger animals as well.

Cautiously, Arei poked his head above the brush, scanning the thick trunks and undergrowth. At first that just made the quiet all the more stifling, but after a moment, he was quite sure that he heard something. It wasn't a herd of deer, either; it was missing that low rumble that came from sheer heaviness. This was something large, but something light . . . something that pounded but didn't have the right weight. Whatever it was, they could hear that the woods were trying to hold it back.

And it was coming closer.

Finn remained just where he was, eyes intent on the north-east. Probably he wasn't sure that was where it was coming from, but that was just Finn's way.

Momma was right. He didn't have the sense given a dung-bug. The thing was weaving wildly, not traveling in a straight line.

But it was still heading for them.

Arei flinched back a step as another thought hit him.

Or it was heading for the village.

Anything with a nose and ears could find that. They were celebrating the coming summer solstice in their own way, with clothes and food and fireworks. He could smell the sausages on the many grills, and while his other bits had been more attracted to the 'weird rituals,' his stomach was reminding him that if he, a lowly human, could still catch that scent on the air, there was no doubt something that ate birds could.

He'd walked these woods all his life. He knew there wasn't anything outside a bear or two that might threaten the village. But what if Finn was right? What if there had been some kind of weird ritual? What if the others had done something –

Something unnatural.

Like the silence.

"Let's go back." He said it much more quietly.

The crashing was getting louder. Whatever it was, it wasn't used to the trees, the roots, and the underbrush.

It was like the woods were trying to contain it. Like the very trees were trying to give them more time to get away.

The more he thought about it, the more certain he became.

This was dangerous. They needed to warn the village.

Arei took a few steps back, not surprised to see that Finn was still waiting where he'd been, behind the large, shedding pine tree, eyes fixed on the north-east.

"Finn!" he hissed.

He got another wave. "Stay hid! It's almost here!"

Arei was pretty sure he could outrun it; it was moving pretty slowly, all things considered. The weaving wasn't helping it. He knew the path to the village even blindfolded.

His sister was there. His momma.

And all the other men in the village, too. Whatever it was didn't sound too big, but nothing that sounded like this thing sounded could have scared so much wildlife.

What if it only sounded light?

A heavy sound, punctuated by snapping wood. It was close enough now that they could hear it breathing. It was a harsh sound, a terrified sound.

A human sound.

And it was real close.

Arei glanced at Finn, then dared to poke his eyes out above the brush.

He could hear it scrabbling to its feet again, could hear a tearing sound. The gasps were more pronounced, and then a cough –

It wasn't just human.

It was a woman.

Another few seconds and movement caught his eye. To the north-east. For a moment, Arei wasn't sure she was human. Her face-

Blood, he realized, slowly straightening.

She was so pale, the blood made it look like her chin was missing, her neck was missing. It had dripped down between her bare breasts, and her arms and torso bore thin black stripes like a badger, telltale signs of unforgiving branches and thorns. Her dirt-colored, fiber-woven skirt was still on, though it was torn and stained in many places. Her feet were bare, and from the amount of dried pine needles and mud stuck to them he was sure they were torn to ribbons.

And while her eyes were almost black with fear, they were able to pick him out of the brush.

Arei forced himself not to bolt as she tore exhaustedly towards him. Despite the fact that she was naked from the waist up, as promised, he found he couldn't have cared less. He didn't know her, but she was one of them, no doubt. The hard-woven skirt, the long hair –

Why was she bleeding? What had happened?

She seemed determined to reach him, and he stepped around the bushes lest she cut herself further on them. She stumbled, falling again as her skirt caught around her feet, and let loose with a wail such as he'd never heard in his life. It chilled his blood, and the oppressive silence was suddenly warm and welcome in comparison. Finn, who was closer, didn't twitch a muscle in the crying woman's direction, and Arei hesitated only a moment more before rushing to her. The cry didn't abate, though it became a scream the moment he touched her.

"M-ma'am?" he tried, awkwardly laying a hand half on her shoulder before withdrawing it. He was afraid to help her up; he'd never touched a half-naked woman before, and he didn't really know where to put his hands. He settled for her upper arms, trying to drag her into a sitting position. Her face was completely hidden by long, tangled blonde hair, and she was shaking so hard he was barely able to keep his light grip on her.

All the while, she continued to babble. "Ifbawaughf! Ifbawaughf!"

He forced her to sit upright, and when she picked up her face to look at him, still half-screaming nonsense, he found himself fighting not to do the same.

The blood was from her mouth. From inside it.

Her tongue was gone.

- x -

Amestris, 1922 (Present)

"I find it quite disturbing, personally."

He didn't allow his expression to change, merely inclining his head as his attendant placed the cup of tea by his right hand. The speaker, sitting opposite him at the small, round wooden table, had already been served his tea, and was likewise ignoring it.

Probably thought it was poisoned, he thought wryly.

It wouldn't be the only poisonous thing in the room.

"It reassures me to hear that, your Eminence," he responded smoothly. It wasn't reassuring in the least. He hadn't missed the man's meaning, but he was wondering just how blunt the dignitary across from him was going to get.

For his part, the Supreme Commander of Drachma snorted indelicately. "Don't misunderstand. You may be young, but you've proven you're not an imbecile."

Well, that was pretty direct.

"I understand that you may not yet have complete control of your Parliament," the older man continued, in a thickly accented voice. "You've been in the position not even a year. A seasoned leader could hardly do better."

Roy Mustang leaned back slightly, appearing to take the words as a compliment. His posturing elicited a barely concealed smirk from the foreign commander. "However, continue allowing this propaganda to spread, and I will have to take steps."

Roy chuckled softly and reached for his teacup. "How ominous. And what steps might those be?"

The smirk was finally unveiled, though it turned out to be a bit more like a small, challenging smile than anything else. "You must understand, Minister. These aren't merely nasty rumors to my people. It's a matter of national pride for us. Every Drachman knows, if any of these assassins had truly been our people, they would have succeeded."

Mustang took a sip of his tea, found it slightly too hot, and gently set the cup back in its saucer. This meeting would have been better over a bottle of cognac and they both knew it. Had it been hosted in Drachma, rather than Amestris, he was certain that was how it would have been handled.

That and possibly a fistfight.

That he probably would have lost. The tea, like the intimate setting, lent a cordial air of camaraderie to something that was swiftly becoming anything but.

"To be honest, the fact that we haven't wiped you off the map should be enough for your people." Roy folded his naked hands neatly on the table and met the other man's gaze squarely. "As I understand it, this morning you were made privy to our investigative efforts. The evidence points overwhelmingly towards Drachma. To the point of ridiculousness, really," he added as an afterthought. "I've never personally known a Drachman to be that sloppy."

It was both a backhanded compliment and a warning. He couldn't actually state he felt that the Drachmans were being framed. The ambiguousness of his words afforded them both some protection. Mustang was fairly certain his Eminence Shurik Tolya was well aware of the implication, but at the same time, they both had secretaries copying down the conversation verbatim. Those records could be used in legal proceedings against the other, from embargo to all-out war. Since Mustang answered to the Parliament, he had to be more conscious of what he promised and what he merely insinuated.

Tolya, on the other hand, answered to no people's government, and thus didn't have to show the same caution. In fact, he threw his head back and laughed.

"So I did, son, so I did." Somewhat irritatingly, the man had both the age and experience to address him so; Shurik Tolya was over fifty, stocky and bearing the slight paunch of a once-muscular man gradually surrendering to age. His hair was still quite dark, his skin both pale and hardened from the harsh northern winters. Like most of his people, his eyes were a deep brown flecked with blues, and they were clear. His mind was as agile as it had been when he'd been only a major himself, leading a guerrilla campaign against the Briggs base.

He was dangerous, but not reckless. He didn't strike Mustang as a general that was eager for war.

Of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't take an opportunity when he saw one.

"I see you've recovered fully from the poison. Do you know what it was?"

Mustang leaned back further in his straight-backed chair, reaching again for his cup of tea. "It appears to have been a new concoction. Possibly from Xing."

Tolya didn't bat an eye at the lie. "I was interested in the link to your famed State Alchemists. Tell me, now that they are falling under scrutiny, will it be as convenient for you to mobilize them?" The Drachman leaned forward, still ignoring his tea. "I understand that military force alone is totally under your control, and it would be unfortunate if you couldn't trust them."

Unfortunate didn't really cover it. If Parliament didn't want to go to war, there really wasn't much Mustang could do about it. He could command the army, under General Hakuro, for up to thirty days while Parliament deliberated. That was their one concession to him; they had specifically created the Prime Minister's role to allow swift and decisive military action, the one thing the Parliament, due to its design, could likely never accomplish.

Once those thirty days were up, if the Parliament and the people disapproved of the move, the troops could be recalled. The National Alchemists were truly the only force he could command without explicit permission from Parliament.

A force he'd promised he would never send to the front lines.

Of course, he didn't really need to worry about it, in this case, and he allowed himself a relaxed and pleasant look. "Please do not worry yourself. Parliament is more than willing to commit Amestris' forces when the party behind the assassination attempts is rooted out. Our previous administration was too hasty in militaristic matters, and the people find it refreshing that their current government is more thorough."

The older gentleman grunted. "To lean too far in the other direction is the same error. Don't be so timid."

Mustang fought back a laugh. Hadn't they gotten past simple baiting? "As I said, do not concern yourself. I will keep you appraised of anything significant we turn up in our investigations. I hope for both our sakes that further evidence does not point northward."

He really wasn't going to keep Parliament under wraps forever.

Tolya merely grunted again, finally dropping his eyes to his teacup disdainfully as the Prime Minister took another sip. "See that you do. Honesty between us could help us both."

Now that was an odd thing to say. It was the first time during the conversation Mustang could recall the Supreme Commander insinuating that his country had anything to gain by continuing peaceful relations with Amestris.

"In fact, as a token of my trust, I will place three diplomats in your care."

Or there was that . . .

Mustang merely raised an eyebrow. "You're proposing opening a embassy here in Amestris?"

He received an icy smile. "Such a thing would require a concession of land, of course, for the building."

Mustang considered that a moment. "A staff of three would likely not have need of an entire building. While I understand it would be impossible to declare sovereign soil in one of our government buildings, please accept an offer of temporary offices here in Central until you determine the duration and permanent staff of such an embassy."

It wasn't a no, per se. Even if it really was. Conceding land, particularly in Central, no matter how small the tract, would be a huge mistake. Particularly if done to a country that was widely believed to be responsible for attempt after attempt on the Prime Minister's life. The Speaker had nearly had apoplexy when Roy had suggested the visit in the first place, and had been forced to sit in a cool, dark place for several hours when they received word that the Drachmans had actually agreed.

Tolya continued to smile. "That is an adequate offer. Please give them what information you would like to come directly to me."

Roy merely inclined his head, giving no indication that he caught the underlying meaning of those words.

He was right. The Drachmans were being framed. Or at least, Tolya was out of the loop.

Or he wanted Mustang to believe that.

"Of course, your Eminence."

"I don't suppose you have anything to liven up this dirty water you've served me?"

Mustang paused a moment, as if running down a list in his head, before casually reaching into his uniform jacket. He was on his third, and it had an upgrade the first two designs had lacked; an inner pocket that perfectly fit a small flask. It wasn't his flask, either; it was not initialed or otherwise marked, but it was of obviously fine craftsmanship, and elegantly designed to hold the maximum amount of alcohol with the slightest profile. It was, for all intents and purposes, completely invisible to anyone observing his profile, even when filled with liquor.

He'd found it the second he'd tried the jacket on, but per her usual, his seamstress had just poked him hard on the shoulder to ensure she'd gotten the breadth of his back correct, growled at him to keep it in good condition, and tottered out of his offices. He'd been too bemused to thank her, though he expected his surprised and pleased expression had done that for him.

So the old bat wasn't all bad.

And in this case, he'd had the foresight to pre-fill it. Sheska had done the research, and he was fairly certain his choice had been a good one.

Without a word he freed the flask, choosing to toss it at the opposing commander rather than stand and hand it to him. The other man caught it as if he'd been expecting it, and raised an eyebrow as he turned the flask over in his hands. He then unscrewed the top, passing the flask beneath his nose in a manner not unlike a chemist might waft an unknown and possibly dangerous vapor.

. . . in fact, he did it exactly like a scientist might.

Filing the observation away, he continued to watch the older man contemplate the scent for a moment before barking a laugh. He poured a generous portion into his teacup, which had only been three-quarter filled, and capped the flask. He turned the container over in his hands again, eying it appreciatively before tossing it back. Mustang caught it and pocketed it as the other took a long draught of his 'improved' tea.

Neither man said anything, but Mustang figured it was probably as informative for Tolya as it had been to him. Roy had done his research, thought ahead, and come prepared. A man that operated that way for a meeting of this nature would operate the same way on a battlefield.

And either poisoning was a big problem in Drachma, or Tolya had been working as or with scientists of his own, probably in response to that damned uranium bomb threat almost a year ago.

"You look like him," the older man said shortly, swirling the liquid around in his cup. "A little younger. A lot prettier. But basically the same."

Mustang just watched him silently. Obviously they were taking about Bradley.

"Don't be him. Don't be afraid of him, either. And before you burn his book, take another page out of it. Get married." He downed the rest of the contents of his cup before placing it back down on the table, rather than its saucer. "It could have a bigger impact than just to your love life.."

Roy allowed his eyebrows to crawl for his hairline. "If you're insinuating I have any desire to abolish a people's government and become Fuhrer, let me assure you nothing could be farther from the truth." Most leaders would scramble to ensure they had a nice, legal line of heirs to their throne; Amestris intelligence reported Tolya had no fewer than seven sons of his own, each the blood of his current wife. His only wife; like all Drachmans before him, he also chose not to clutter up the line of succession by divorcing his wives. Or killing them. Some of them had probably needed the latter.

Tolya shook his head, standing to signal that the meeting was over. "You aren't the only one that does his research, son."

Mustang also got to his feet, not allowing any of his body language to be construed as offensive. As near as he could tell, this meeting was as close to a total success as he could have hoped for. It had been a good move to get Tolya away from Parliament, and he was certain nothing he'd said could be misconstrued by them. Some of the things Tolya had said would possibly alarm them, but that was to be expected. He'd defended them without alienating a personal relationship with the Supreme Commander of Drachma. Which was more than the Speaker was able to do.

He'd bought himself a little more time. Parliament would be sated, at least temporarily, and he didn't expect that Tolya would do anything more alarming than he already was, which was occasionally 'knocking' on the Briggs' base front door to see what the response would be.

He'd need to make sure these diplomats didn't run into Major General Olivier Armstrong during her stay in Central. Sighting her outside of his control could undo some the shaky trust they'd just reached.

"It was a pleasant way to spend the morning." It wasn't even a total lie. Considering his next appointment was going to be with Hakuro, regarding some 'plan' the general had hatched to accelerate efforts to capture the assassins and parties responsible.

He wasn't dragging his feet on purpose; the fact was that they simply had little intel he could really trust. He didn't really know whether another of their neighbors was trying to incite a war or the efforts were coming from within Amestris. And despite how useful it had been at the time, Roy Mustang was this close to dragging a certain State Alchemist out onto the parade grounds and reminding him – heatedly – why lying on record was universally a bad idea.

Johann Irving, and what had transpired thereafter, had had nothing to do with the parties intent on starting a war. But it couldn't have been more inconvenient. And while there was no doubt Edward Elric's off-the-cuff fib had saved that situation, and possibly thousands of lives, Roy was certainly paying for it now. Hawkeye had nearly died, and he'd been in the hospital quite some time himself. It had made it appear that the assassins, rather than being something the government could shrug off, really did have the power to end the Prime Minister's life. If they could do that, the people reasoned, what was to stop them from killing members of Parliament as well?

Unease was being further fueled by the 'radiation' feedback that was still affecting parts of the city. That, at least, couldn't be tied to the Drachmans - Edward had effectively made it a separate issue. Not that they weren't still paying for it, even if that truth had remained intact; Fuery and Breda were still being kept on light duty only, and Dr. Patterson wasn't sure Kain would ever completely recover.

He needed something hopeful, something positive to report on the Drachman front, and this was as close as he was going to get. It certainly could have been worse.

"Likewise," Tolya replied, extending a hand once they had walked around the round table. The shake was brief, with the older man trying to crush his hand, and Roy responded with force. That show of dominance done, the two proceeded shoulder-to-shoulder for the door of Mustang's office.

"I assume you'll be keeping to your travel plans for the day?" As far as he knew, this was to get on a train and head due north until the trains ended, then take a car to the border. Mustang had stationed his people carefully, and had sent Havoc and Falman along to the next station, to accompany the Drachmans plainclothed. The last thing he needed was for a gung-ho citizen to 'save' his country by trying to assassinate the enemy.

The elder man nodded, falling back a stride to allow Mustang to pull open the door for him. "Minus the diplomatic party I will be leaving in your care. Mistreat them and I'll hear of it."

There was that trademark bluntness again. Mustang was slightly surprised by the comment but he let it pass, following the other man into his secretary's office, where Hawkeye and Brooks were waiting with the rest of the Drachman party. It was fairly small, consisting of six large and expressionless bodyguards, three equally unimpressed attending ladies, one colonel serving as an advisor, and two of the colonel's subordinate lieutenants.

It wasn't difficult to pick out the three he was meaning, and Mustang almost shook his head. Of course Tolya wouldn't send three specially trained diplomats to represent Drachma in Amestris, not when he could use Roy's promise to allow the Drachman military to have access to his government buildings instead.

Not that Mustang would. It was just another part of the process of feeling each other out. Shurik wouldn't be bothering unless he was preparing for war or preparing for peace. For better or worse, it indicated Drachma was looking to change its relationship with Amestris.

They came to a stop by the party, and he made sure to make eye contact with every member of the visiting group. "I'll see that your men are given sufficient lodging and facilities immediately."

Shurik gave him an odd look. "The formality is unnecessary. They're not officers."

Mustang gave the Drachman a politely puzzled look, and he received a wide – and significantly warmer – smile, as well as a strong pat on the back. "Don't look so frightened! They're quite used to it. No need to pamper them." He cast a very direct look towards the head of Mustang's security detail. "I can see you treat your women similarly. They should feel at home here."

Mustang stared at the other man a moment, and as the supreme commander's grin widened, he realized he'd been unable to keep his sudden look of understanding to himself.

Oh.

Of course.

He did manage to keep the sigh to himself, with effort, and instead half-bowed at the waist in their direction. "My apologies, ambassadors. I will personally ensure the facilities will be to your liking."

He received three sharp nods in reply, all in unison.

And one equally sharp glance, though not from the Drachmans.

She didn't say anything, though, and he ignored her for the moment, extending an arm before him to indicate the party should proceed to the main hallway. The Speaker and a few choice representatives were waiting to escort the Drachman Supreme Commander and his entourage to Central Station. This particular business was, at least for now, concluded.

He waited until they left his outer office, including the three 'diplomats,' before relaxing, placing his hands in his pockets and rolling his head on his shoulders.

Okay, so it could still have been worse. At least now he understood the other leader's comments.

"General Hakuro is waiting in the Blue Room."

He nodded acknowledgement, glancing as his secretary extended a thin manila folder, containing whatever outline Hakuro had submitted when he'd requested the meeting. He began walking immediately, and as always, Riza was just a step behind him.

But not for long. She extended her stride to catch up, walking side by side with him, through the complex internal corridors that linked the Prime Minister's office to the seven adjoining conference rooms. He had never had more than two pre-filled and could not fathom anything that would require him to have all seven full simultaneously.

"Ambassadors?"

She was pretty blunt, too, all things considering.

He felt himself smile. "Shurik's concerned that the rumors of failing Drachman assassins will hurt his country's image." He'd left the three women, and the message that marrying one of them would be sufficient to smooth relations and overlook the assassin rumors. Not only was the man giving him a time limit, he was also giving him an out.

Surprisingly generous, in fact.

"Informants?"

"Potential wives," he replied, glancing at her reaction out of the corner of his eye.

Riza took this information in stride, as he knew she would. Her eyes shifted slightly to her left as she considered.

"Shall I house them in the west suites?"

Putting cold-blooded Drachmans into the warmest suites in the building would certainly make them uncomfortable – but if they were here to seduce him, that could also encourage them to wear as little as possible. It would also be a move Shurik would be expecting.

"No need. But take First Lieutenant Ross with you. Give her an opportunity to make nice."

Maria Ross was very good at appearing exactly what she was; sincere. These Drachman women wouldn't warm up to Hawkeye, knowing she was his chief of security. They'd be suspicious of all military personnel, female or not. But the clearly subordinate Ross might be able to strike a chord with them that other officers couldn't. It wasn't terribly likely, but it didn't hurt to try.

Hawkeye accepted the command with a nod. But rather than move to carry it out, she continued to walk with him a moment. She really had no business in his meeting with Hakuro; both knew the other man wasn't behind the attempts, and would move as fast as any other officer to stop an attack, if only for the credit of saving his life. Clearly something else was on her mind.

"All three are your type," she observed mildly, stopping with him just outside the Blue Room.

Roy glanced at her, this time really studying her expression. That was a good point; all three women were varying shades of brunette, all with striking features and smoky eyes. None were taller than he was, and they came in varying degrees of curviness.

Tolya said he'd done his research, but that wasn't really the point Hawkeye was trying to make.

It wouldn't have been impossible for a well-trained intelligence officer to determine Roy's 'type.' There were enough in the military that had girls he'd stolen away at some point, and his current position meant it would be relatively easy to get that kind of information out of jealous officers. It didn't necessarily mean someone close to him was betraying him.

It did indicate, however, that Drachma had a well-trained intelligence officer placed within or with easy access to the Amestris military. Such an officer would also be able to determine the types of foods he liked, his schedule, his old habits, and the names of his most trusted subordinates.

A prerequisite, if you wanted to successfully depose an enemy.

"You noticed," he commented dryly, and she gave him a flat look before spinning on her heels and returning to his secretary's office. Tucking her warning away, he glanced at the folder in his hand a moment before pushing open the conference room door. He hadn't had time to brief himself, but he was pretty sure Hakuro would get straight to the point.

That was one thing he could count on the good general to be. Nice and predictable.

- x -

Author's Notes: Due to the wonderful and overwhelming feedback of readers both here and in email, and several more plotholes being dragged into the light of day (not mine, thank God), I have decided to write this third and final fic set in this little miniverse of mine. It also promises to be a twenty-chapter one-shot. ; ) After all, I barely even mentioned Edward in this first chapter. You know it's going to be a long fic if the Elrics don't even appear until chapter two.

A couple warnings, now that you've read this far: this fic is significantly more complicated than its predecessors, and significantly darker. It will not be updated at the breakneck pace of the first two. This is for two reasons; I am no longer pushing myself to see how long it takes me to write a cohesive novel-length work, and I am not composing this as a present for any one person.

And now that I've scared you off, remember – no matter how dark it gets, the title does include the words Perfect After All. That does not, however, apply to my grammar and spelling. This is posted with no beta, and I apologize for any mistakes I didn't catch on a readthrough! Hope you guys enjoy this one as much as the previous two!