All C&C gratefully recieved.  Please enjoy!

Ripening

by Raye Johnsen
raye_j@yahoo.com

----

"Fullmetal Alchemist" is copyright Arukawa Hiromu and
associated parties, not me.

This fic is an AU and is set after the end of the TV
series and movie, containing mild spoilers for both. 
If this is not to your taste, please go no further.  

This fic features a shounen-ai couple and homosexual
sex is both alluded to and implied in this story.  If
this offends you or is illegal for you to read in your
locale, please hit the 'delete' key NOW.

----

	It was quite the party, Russell Tringham thought,
looking around at the people gathered to welcome
Edward Elric back home to this side of the Gate. 
There was a majority of military personnel, of course,
but a fair few non-military alchemists, several
assortedly-decorative young ladies and various other
people.  Watching Ed drift from person to person,
greeting each as non-effusively as every other,
Russell was suddenly, unwelcomely convinced of one
thing: *Ed wasn't acting*.  He was as happy to see
Commander Hawkeye and General Mustang as he was to see
a girl with pink hair named Rozei and, yes, Russell
himself.

	/I guess this answers that question,/ Russell thought
glumly, hiding behind his cup of punch.  He had
thought... but if this didn't prove that he'd been
achingly *stupid* to think that he hadn't read too
much into a few caresses and a stolen night, then he
didn't know what would.

	At least he hadn't completely embarrassed himself. 
He was the only one who knew how deeply he felt.  Even
Fletcher only thought he had made good friends with
the Fullmetal Alchemist.  

	Talking of whom... Russell quietly walked up behind
his younger brother, surprising him in mid-yawn. 
"Hey, Fletcher," he said. "Ready to call it a night?"

	"Nnn--" Fletcher yawned again. "Well..."

	"Let's go say goodbye, then."

	But they couldn't get close enough to Ed to do that. 
The only ones they could speak to were other guests,
Alphonse Elric and General Mustang.  The Plant
Alchemists bade both a pleasant farewell, and Russelll
said to Al, "We'll be leaving on the 11 o'clock train
tomorrow morning.  We'd really like to see you and Ed
again before we go, though, if that's all right."

	"Sure," Al replied.  "If I can get Brother up in
time, we'll meet you and see you off at the station."

	"Don't short yourself on sleep, Al," Fletcher told
his friend.

	"I won't," the older boy assured him.  "You're
yawning badly.  Better go!"

	"All right, you worrywart," Fletcher said, and both
Tringhams left the room quietly.

*^*^*^*^

	The next morning, both the Tringhams stood on the
platform until the whistle went for the last
passengers for the train.  Both boys were silent as
they climbed aboard and took their seats.

	"They didn't come."  Fletcher's voice was low and
quiet.

	Russell looked over at his brother.  "We did tell
Alphonse not to get up if he hadn't had enough sleep,"
he pointed out.  "It's a bit much to tell him to take
care of himself and then complain when he does!"

	"I know," Fletcher replied, "but..."

	"He's probably kicking himself for missing you,
anyway," Russell added.  /The way I wish Ed would and
I know he won't,/ he added to himself.

	"Yes, he would," Fletcher agreed.  "Still..."

	"Still?" Russell prompted.

	Fletcher blushed.  "I just... Al had all these really
cool stories, you know?  Of the places he'd been and
the things he'd done, and I just... I wanted to hear
more."  He sighed.  "We're stuck in Xenotime..."

	That was when Russell was struck by his idea.  In
later eras, when scholars came to study the
intertwined lives of the four most influential and
renowned alchemists of the age, opinion would be
eternally divided between it being the wisest and the
most foolish thing the Evergreen Alchemist ever did in
his life.

	"We don't have to be," Russell said slowly.

	"What, brother?" Fletcher said, puzzled.

	"This train... this train stops at other towns
between Xenotime and Central," Russell told his
brother, feeling a strange fizzing rising up along his
veins.  "We can get out at one of them and send a
telegram to Belsio to tell him we're all right, and
then I'll get a short-term job.  We'll do research in
the local library in the evenings, and then after a
while we'll go on to somewhere else, I'll get another
job, we'll do more research... it'd probably be better
for our research too.  We don't *have* to stay in
Xenotime."

	"Could we do it?" Fletcher asked, the excitement in
his voice rising.

	"Why not?" Russell asked, the fizzing reaching his
ears.  "If the Elrics could do it, we can."

	Fletcher began to smile.  "So, where shall we go,
Brother?"

	Russell spread the rail map out on his lap.  "Pick a
town, Fletcher."

*^*^*^*^

	A week later, Russell looked up from where he was
sitting, bent over the treatise he'd found on the
medicinal uses of poisonous plants.  Fletcher had
stood up and was staring out of the little window that
was set in the wall of the small library.

	There hadn't been much in the town library of
Whitesands that was of much use to an alchemist, so
Russell was encouraging Fletcher to do some general
reading as well as studying the few alchemical texts
there.  They were mostly the classic herbals every
plant-specialist knew by heart, but there were a few
based around the local plant life that the two boys
had fallen on like ravening wolves.  Russell estimated
that he and Fletcher would probably stay another week,
and then move on.

	The short-term job he'd found, as barman at the local
public-house, was proving an education in more ways
than one.  In five days he'd learned to mix thirty
different drinks, had his shoulder sobbed on four
times by heartbroken lovers of both genders, had his
vocabulary expanded in a way he was not very
comfortable with, and been hit on more times than he
wanted to think about.  Still, the money was good, he
and Fletcher were getting free board above the bar,
and he was allowed to brandish a club at the drunks.

	He'd always kind of wanted to do that.

	But Fletcher was staring out the window, and as an
older brother it was his job to support him and jolly
him out of his funks.

	"What's up, Fletcher?" he asked.

	Fletcher jumped.  "Um, nothing," he said.  "I was
just taking a break."

	"Yeah, Fletch," Russell said, "I know.  But you're
distracted, too.  What's wrong?"

	"Nothing's wrong," Fletcher said, and Russell could
hear the lie.  He also could hear the determination
not to tell the truth either.

	"All right," he said, letting it pass.  He decided to
take a break himself, and pulled out a half-finished
letter.  Dipping his pen in the inkwell, he asked,
"Anything you want to say to Belsio?"

	Fletcher spun to face Russell, his eyes wide. 
"Belsio?"

	"Yes, I'm writing him a letter," Russell said.  "A
telegram's all right, but I think he might still worry
a bit.  Besides, what's a journey if you don't write
to the people back home?"

	Fletcher glanced from the pen and paper to his
brother, and back again.  "Could I write a letter?"

	"Sure," Russell said.  "We can buy stamps for them
when we post them.  Who are you going to write to?"

	"Alphonse Elric."  Fletcher grinned.  "I want to tell
him *I'm* having a journey too!"

	Russell pushed a smile onto his face, ignoring the
sudden pang in his chest.  "Sure thing.  He'll
probably love to hear from you."

*^*^*^*^

	The Elric brothers were turning into the small house
they were staying in while they were staying in
Central when they noticed the small metal flag on
their mailbox that indicated when they had mail was
up.  Ed stalked over to the box, pulling it open
stiffly.

	He hadn't been in a bad mood the past ten days, no
way.  His current annoyance was due entirely to That
Bastard Mustang and his incessant twitting.  It had
nothing to do with the way Russell Tringham had
slipped away, almost unnoticed, from his party and
then out of Central.  Nothing at all to do with the
way that boy-shaped will-o'-the-wisp had drifted in
and then tracelessly drifted out again.

	He had not hung over Al's shoulder when he telephoned
the Tringham's guardian in Xenotime to find out if the
boys had gotten back there safely.  He had been in the
room, yes, but he'd been sitting quite far in, and it
was entirely a coincidence as well.  So there.  And he
had *not* been worried when Belsio had told them that
Russell and Fletcher had decided to stop off in
another town on their way back home.  He was *not*
fretting over the sort of dangers two innocent boys
who hadn't ever even been out of their hometown or the
safer parts of Central could find themselves in.  He
was *not* concerned about the Tringham brothers *at
all*.

	Al had no idea what he'd done during their long
quest.  He wasn't ashamed of himself -- he'd needed
touch, affection, reassurance that he was still alive,
still human.  He'd not taken any unwilling lovers, and
he'd made sure he neither promised anything nor
implied he'd meant anything other than a night of
pleasure.  Still... the single night he'd spent with
Russell Tringham stood out among tens of others,
marked with a sense of honesty and a strange purity. 
He'd looked forward to seeing the boy again, away from
a group of well-wishers and casual lovers.  

	And then he'd blinked and Russell was gone.

	The letter was addressed to Al and it was in a
handwriting that Ed didn't recognise.  Al accepted
cheerfully and slit the envelope open as Ed unlocked
the door.

	"Brother!  It's from Fletcher!"

	Ed swore in German as his flesh hand slipped and
banged hard against the lock.

	"I don't know what those words are but I'm sure
they're not nice," Al said serenely as his brother
massaged the side of his hand against his chest.  Ed
pointedly said Nothing At All until they were both
safely inside.

	Al unfolded the three pages of paper.  "Fletcher says
that they're staying in a little town called
Whitesands... Russell's got a job serving drinks in
the local bar in the evening... You all right,
Brother?"

	"I'm fine," Ed replied, forcibly dismissing the image
of the drunken regiment all hitting on the shy and
awkward Russell from his mind.

	"He says Russell has got lots of people chasing him."

	"I'll bet."

	"But he hasn't got a boyfriend or a girlfriend yet. 
They're spending all their time researching."

	"Well, they are alchemists."  Still, Ed felt a sudden
lightness.  How much trouble could Russell get into in
a library?  He conveniently ignored all the memories
that rose up to point out that actually, Russell could
get into quite a lot of trouble in a library, after
all *he* had, hadn't he?  Russell was an entirely
different kind of person.

	"There isn't that much in Whitesands's library,
though, so they're not going to stay much longer."

	"They'll probably be glad to get home."

	"Um... they're not planning to go home, Brother."

	"WHAT?"

	Al hastily stepped back.  "Um... Fletcher says this
is a research journey and they're not finished yet, so
they're going to go somewhere else and study there a
bit."

	"If they need to study, WHY DIDN'T THEY STAY IN
CENTRAL?!?"  Ed felt the momentary calm conferred by
the presence of the letter, and its implicit
reassurance of its writer's and his brother's safety,
vanish.

	Al blinked and ducked.  "I -- I don't know, Brother!"

	"Humph!"  Ed stalked over to the stairs.  "Well, come
on, Al!"

	"'Come on'?" Al echoed, in a confused tone of voice.

	"We can't let the Tringhams get ahead of us!  We have
to pack!  We're leaving for Whitesands in the
morning!"

	Al grinned, and beat his brother upstairs.

*^*^*^*^

	"Ready to go, Fletcher?"

	"Yes, Brother!"

	Russell looked around the tiny platform of the
Whitesands train station as the train chugged in. 
"Goodbye Whitesands, you've been nice," he murmured,
and climbed aboard.  "Farenlicht, here we come."

*^*^*^*^

	"So they were here and now they're not."

	"Yep, that's what I said.  Shame too.  Pair of cute
boys like that, need to get married and settle down
afore every girl in town starts getting strange ideas.
 Or some of the boys."

	"Some of the *boys*?  How does that--"

	"You don't need to know, Al.  So, mister, where'd
they go?"

	"Dunno.  They didn't say.  Just that they were
goin'."

	"Brother?  Brother, are you feeling all right? 
Mister, have you got a paper bag or something?"

	"Hit him on the back, laddie.  That's how you fix a
purple face."

*^*^*^*^*^

	Farenlicht was a town noted for its turnips, its coal
and the lack of height among its residents.  Russell
felt like a giant amongst the short miners,  and like
a pretentious lordling with lily-white skin when
confronted with the grimy appearance that the coal
dust from years of coal mining ground into the miners'
skins.

	It didn't take long for the Tringham Brothers to work
out that the height problem (or rather, the
lack-of-height problem) was due to the long hours the
miners were forced by the mine's owner to work,
causing the men to go underground before dawn and not
letting them out until well after sunset.  The vitamin
deficiencies caused thereby were quite fascinating. 
If Russell hadn't been dedicated to healing, he could
have spent years studying the effects.

	Because he *was* dedicated to healing, though, it
took he and Fletcher five weeks of solid work (in
between bartending shifts; the pub had been hiring and
Russell was experienced and preferred dealing with
drunks than mine owners) to devise a self-perpetuating
compost formula that would put the needed vitamins
into the turnips the town subsisted on.

	Seeding the town's vegetable gardens took another
week; neither Fletcher nor Russell were willing to
break into people's backyards to deliver the compost,
so they had to convince the goodwives of the town to
accept the stuff themselves.

	It was only after another week, and several sudden
cases of growth spurts among the younger miners, that
Russell and Fletcher began to seriously think about
leaving.  Believing there was no more need for them
and their research at this point, the Tringhams caught
a train out of town.

	Before they left, Fletcher wrote to Al and described
the whole situation and chain of events.  This letter
would later prove invaluable as motive evidence when
the case of the Farenlicht Riots came up and the
military hierarchy began to ask such questions as,
what was the Fullmetal Alchemist doing haring off to
Farenlicht, and why on earth had he been a primary
organiser of the initial strike anyway?

	But this account is of the Evergreen Alchemist and
the Greenleaf Alchemist and not the Farenlicht Riots
(of which many full books have been written, several
examining the catalystic nature of their role), so we
shall move on, as they did.

*^*^*^*^

Dear Al,

	Here we are in a town called Pinegroves.  It is, as
you'd imagine, surrounded by pine trees.  The conifer
forests are really lovely this time of year, but the
sort of animal life they support is really limited. 
Brother says it's an effect of monoculture and that
diversification in support structures is necessary for
healthy plurality further up the food chain and has
been going around planting acorns and chestnuts
whenever he doesn't think I'm looking.

	Things here have been pretty quiet.  There hasn't
been much going on here, if you don't count the town
picnic where Brother was guilted into running the
kissing booth for an hour (it was *amazing* how
popular it was, but it seemed to slack off into the
afternoon; Brother just gets a funny look on his face
when I say that).

	There's been a rash of thefts all through the town. 
Some people say that it's the work of the famous thief
Psiren.  Others say it's someone local.  Brother says
it's a bloody nuisance, and that I am not to say that
word to anybody.  (But I'm not saying it when I write
it, am I?)  Personally I think that's because of what
happened a couple of nights ago.  He's joined one of
the volunteer squads to track the thief down and his
squad actually managed to find her.  But just as they
did, she jumped down into the middle of them, kissed
Brother full on the lips and then dashed away while he
was still in shock.  He went after her but she managed
to get away again.

	Brother didn't tell me any of that, by the way.  I
got it off the other squad members.  Brother just said
that they'd almost got her, and blushed a bit when he
said it.

	A couple of other squads are asking about borrowing
Brother or I now, or maybe some of the handsomer boys
in town, to use as Psiren-bait.  Brother however says
"No!" and that he's not going to let me give my first
kiss to a thief.  I asked him about the kissing booth
and he just blushed and said that hadn't been his
first kiss, but when I asked him who his first kiss
had been he blushed harder and said that *that* was
private.

	So, do you have any ideas on how I can worm it out of
him?

	In other news, Brother is learning how to play the
guitar!  One of his admirers gave him one and he got a
book out of the town library on how to play it.  The
constant scales are boring but he was able to plunk
out a couple of nursery rhymes by memory yesterday, so
he's getting better!

	We'll probably stay a couple more weeks, until this
thief is behind bars.  Brother is determined to catch
her.  I'm not going to think about why.

	I hope everybody in Central is in good health. 
Brother says to tell your brother "Hello" from him,
and NOT to show him the rest of the letter, and that I
don't need to know why he just said that.  Brother is
weird sometimes.

	Your friend,
		Fletcher Tringham

^*^*^*^*^*

	"SOMETIMES?!  How about ALL the time?!  And what the
hell does he think he's playing at, kissing every girl
in town?  That Tringham boy is going to... AAARGH! 
Al!  We're --"

	"Going to Pinegroves, Brother?"

	"EXACTLY!"

	"We can't, Brother.  Remember what General Mustang
said about haring off on wild goose chases after last
time?"

	"But if Psiren's on the loose in Pinegroves --"

	"It probably isn't her, Brother.  And you're not
after her anyway.  The one you want to catch is
Russell Tringham, isn't it?"

	Ed stared at his brother.

	"I looked it up in the Central Library after we got
back from Whitesands, why the old man said some of the
boys wouldn't get strange ideas if Russell was
married," Al continued.  "Lieutenant Schiezca was very
helpful.  She pointed me at the right section and
explained some things the books didn't.  After I
realised what that old man meant, it explained quite a
bit about you, too."

	Ed swallowed convulsively.  "Um... Al... you weren't
involved.  It wasn't meant to affect you --"

	Al smiled serenely.  "It didn't, Brother.  But," and
here the smile slipped away, "you've got to start
being honest with yourself.  You know why Russell is
doing this, don't you?"
	
	Ed blinked at this sudden turn of direction.  "Huh? 
What?  He's off on a research journey.  He and
Fletcher said so, remember?"

	Al shook his head.  "Oh, Brother.  He's off
researching because he's finding a place for himself. 
You didn't see him at your welcome-home party, did
you?"  Al didn't wait for Ed's reply.  "He was
completely out of his depth!  Everyone was nice to him
but nobody knew him and he didn't know anyone.  *I*
didn't know anyone there except the military personnel
and the Tringhams!  They were all people you'd met on
your journey through Amestris.  It wasn't your fault,
but you see, don't you?  He felt like he was a small
and unimportant part of someone else's life, so now
he's trying to build the foundations to becoming
important himself."

	"But he IS important!" Ed burst out.  "He gave us the
key to real breakthroughs in our research!  And what
he was doing in Xenotime was necessary!  He was --"

	"The Tringhams were *our* support," Al broke in. 
"Who was theirs?"

	He was met with a blank stare.  "Eh?"

	"Who reads their research?  Who talks about them? 
What's their reputation like?  Do either of them have
a title?  How good are they really?"  Al shrugged. 
"We can't do anything for them until they finish their
journey, Brother, but after that, I think we should
start pulling strings.  Get them to write some
monographs and get them published and then openly
reference them.  We know they're good.  It's time we
told the rest of Amestris, don't you think?"

	Ed slowly nodded.  "Yeah.  Yeah, we can do that.  And
you're right, we'd really undermine them if we showed
up in Pinegroves and caught Psiren for them."  He let
his frown twist his lips.  "But I really don't like
it.  It'd be easier for them to both research and
publish here in Central.  We really need to tell them
that and get them back here."  He shot Al a glance
from under his eyebrows.  "You don't like Fletcher
being out there starting revolutions and kissing girls
any more than I like Russell doing it, either."

	Al blushed.  "BROTHER!"

^*^*^*^*^*

	Russell was strumming away on his guitar, picking
notes at random and taking turns with Fletcher at
making up lyrics on the fly as the Tringham brothers
waited for the train.  It wasn't grating on the ear,
but both were well aware that they were much better
off sticking to their day jobs.  They'd managed to
attract a small group of equally bored travellers at
their end of the platform who were not unhappy for the
entertainment.

	"*I've been all over/picking fruit in
Farenlicht,/buried seed corn in Sarensa/and from
Hatrick done a-flit,*" Fletcher sang softly.

	"Does that scan?" asked Russell, breaking into his
own verse.  "*They still miss me in Marinta/and think
of me in Daricall/I wandered through Wardell/and left
friends behind in Vall.*"

	"Really?  You never write to them," Fletcher shot
back.  "*Don't know where I'll be tomorrow/All I
really own's my hat/Maybe next I'll visit
mountains/See if there's one that's flat.*"

	"Ha very ha, Fletcher.  *When you've got itchy
feet/guess there's nothing else to do/but to put a
pair of boots on/and wander off into the blue.*"

	"Do you think this is the smartest thing to do,
Brother?  *I've never been to the ocean/they say it's
really rather nice/I'll see if I can learn to swim/or
if I'll drown in a trice.*"

	"Don't you want to see him again?  *I've got sand in
my fingers/sand in my toes/sand in my hair/and where
else do you suppose?*"

	"Bro-THER!"

*^*^*^*^*^*^

	The Elrics were sitting down to dinner when the
doorbell clanged.

	"I'll get it," Al said, putting his napkin down
beside his plate and getting up.  Ed sat back,
resigned to waiting an extra five minutes to start (he
might like his food, but Tricia Elric had raised her
boys to have good table manners).

	"FLETCHER?  Russell?" Al's voice shrieked from the
foyer, and Ed raced to the front door to see the
Tringhams standing there on the front doorstep.

	"Come in, come in!" Al declared, and swiftly ushered
the Tringhams in.  As they were stripping off their
coats, Ed hung back and drank in the first sight he'd
had of Russell in six months.

	The other boy was still slender, but stockier than he
had been; his chest had broadened and his shoulders
muscled up.  His skin was not as tanned as it had
been; Russell's succession of indoor jobs had let the
sunkissed tint fade until he was more pale than Ed
himself.  He was still taller than Ed, but not by
nearly so much anymore.  Still, he was still
recognisably *Russell* and Ed felt half the twanging
tension he'd been carrying leach away.

	"We're not sure where to go next," Russell was
saying, in response to Al's query.  "We thought we'd
come by, see you and everyone else we met here in
Central, and make up our minds what to do from here."

	"You'll stay here, of course," Al said firmly. 
"Hotels are expensive and we have the room.  In fact,
you're just in time for dinner.  Come and eat and tell
us everything."

^*^*^*^*^*

	Fortunately for all four, Al had not only cooked a
stew for dinner that evening, he had deliberately
cooked a double quantity, intending to put half of it
into the alchemically-chilled cupboard the Elrics kept
their perishable foods in, for the next night's meal. 
So there was more than enough for all four young men
to eat, and as they did for the Tringhams to fill in
the details from Fletcher's letters.

	After laughing at the account of The Great Cat Hunt
(they had come away with the moral that when a little
old lady asks you to help her hunt for her cat, make
sure said cat is not actually a still-mostly-feral
feline creature that isn't actually a housecat), which
absorbed the attention and meal time, Al took Fletcher
up to settle in his room, announcing that Russell
could stay with Ed.  Both the older boys were left
with the washing up, which was done in an awkward
silence.

	As they were starting the wiping up, Ed began, "Russ
--" while at the same time Russell said, "Ed --"

	Both stopped and Russell said, "You first."

	Ed nodded.  "I'm glad you're okay."

	"Yeah, so am I.  And I'm glad everything here's okay,
too."

	Ed swiped at a pot with his teatowel.  "Central has
the best research library in the country.  If you
needed to research, why didn't you stay here?"

	Russell sighed, rubbing a glass dry.  He'd known this
question was coming.  "Because that's not an
adventure."

	Ed dried a plate, the control needed to keep from
cracking the china allowing him to keep a rein on his
temper.  "An adventure."

	"Yeah.  I don't know if you realised it, but your
stories - they sound really fun.  *Really* fun. 
Fletcher and I -- we never really got to have much fun
like that in Xenotime, and the chance was there, so we
took it.  We didn't use anybody's names but our own
and we didn't start any trouble --"

	"Fun.  Trouble."  Ed carefully put the plate down. 
"IT WASN'T THE LEAST BIT FUN! AND I BET YOU NEVER
HEARD OF THE FARENLICHT RIOTS!"

	"The... what?"

	"Your little vitamin formula made the people of
Farenlicht realise just how badly the mine owner was
treating them!  I arrived and I had to calm them down
from an all-out attack on the mine owner to a simple
strike, and then the mine owner hired mercenaries and
the army was called in and it was all a freakin' mess
AND WHOSE FAULT WAS IT DO YOU THINK?"

	"What?  But it was just a supplement meant to make
them healthy!  You should've sent word that you were
coming.  We must've just missed each other.  Although
it might have been harder to see you... shorty."

	"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT YOU COULD MISS HIM IN
AN EMPTY ROOM??" Ed roared.  "The point is, you idiot,
that your actions have consequences.  LOTS of
consequences!  You provided the cause of the
Farenlicht Riots.  Sarensa's having a boom year thanks
to your field treatment.  Daricall has had to begin
public alchemy contests after that stint you did as a
substitute teacher in that primary school - do you
*know* how many people for how many years have been
calling for an academy of alchemy outside of
government supervision?  With those kids you gave them
a focus and now it looks like it might actually
happen!  I'm not even going to go into what's
happening in Wardell because of you!  It's getting to
the point where the Evergreen Alchemist wanders into
town and the local government breaks out the riot
gear!  Did you know there was one senator who wanted
to put a price on your head?!"

	"What?"

	"Don't 'what' at me, it's true!  You -- you --" Ed
gulped.  "You just left and you didn't tell me where
you were going and the way you've just wandered in and
started things off, how long before something went
boom in your face?  And I wouldn't be there to protect
you or help you, because you never tell me where you
are."

	Russell put down his teatowel, turning to face the
other youth.  "Ed, listen.  You don't have to protect
me.  I'm a grown-up -- I'm seventeen now, I'll be
eighteen in two weeks.  If something happens to me,
well it's my own fault, isn't it?  You're not
responsible for my decisions.  So you have no need to
shield me from anything and you have no need to feel
guilty about me."  He grinned suddenly.  "So, the
'Evergreen Alchemist', huh?  A bit better than
'Fullmetal', I suppose.  Now, how did I get it?  They
only give titles to State Alchemists, and I've only
ever impersonated one."

	"It's what they were calling you in Sarensa when I
turned up," Ed said sulkily.  "I *stupidly* mentioned
it in my dispatches back to Central and when I got
back it was all over the place here, and it's spread
from there.  I blame That Bastard."

	"Hmm."

	"And I do have to protect you.  If you'd never met
me, you'd still be safe in Xenotime. You were only
travelling because you'd seen me do it, so it's my
fault and my responsibility.  Besides, I'm older than
you, I'm supposed to look after you."

	Russell picked up the teatowel.  "You know," he said
conversationally, "I could tie this into a noose
around your neck *right now*."

	Ed picked up the big knife Al had used to chop the
vegetables.  "You could *try*."

	Both boys looked at each other, taking a step closer.

	Neither would remember, later, who had taken the
first step - whether Ed had stood up on his toes or if
Russell had bent his head down.  The fiery words
became a fiery kiss and all the tension between them
suddenly slipped from its position and wove around
them instead, till the only place where either could
be was in the other's arms.

	The kiss was not long, because Russell was too
inexperienced to have the trick of breathing through
his nose yet.  Ed felt obscurely pleased by this as he
demanded, "My bedroom.  NOW," and Russell nodded.

*^*^*^*^*^

	Al and Fletcher flattened themselves against the wall
just outside the kitchen door as their older brothers
rushed past.  Neither of the two looked back and saw
their eavesdroppers.

	"Well, *that* went well," Al said with satisfaction.

	"How did you know that they were, um, interested in
each other?" Fletcher asked quietly.

	Al blinked and looked at him.  "You didn't?"

	"I knew Brother admired your brother," Fletcher said
in a small voice, "and I knew Brother didn't really
think about girls very much, but I always thought that
was because he was so busy looking after me and
whatever it was that we were doing at the time.  I
never really thought it was because he already loved
someone."  He drew patterns with his finger on the
wooden table.  "I feel awfully stupid for missing it."

	Pulling the bread and a block of cheese out of the
chilled cupboard, Al plonked them down in front of
Fletcher.  "I know what you mean.  I felt like that
when I worked it out too."

	"You did?" Fletcher asked, beginning to slice the
cheese.

	"Yep.  It was only a few months ago.  After we went
to Whitesands to try to see you, one of the old men
there said some of the boys of the town had crushes on
Russell, and Brother went absolutely spare.  I felt so
dumb when I first worked out why.  On the other hand,
they *were* trying to not let us find out."  Al
finished slicing off eight pieces of bread and started
rewrapping the remaining loaf before putting it and
what remained of the cheese back.

	Fletcher began assembling the sandwiches.  "It seems
odd -- I mean, I know how sex works for a boy and a
girl.  Brother told me and there was this book, too. 
But how does it work with two boys?"

	"There are books on that, too," Al told his friend,
feeling a blush unaccountably begin stealing up his
cheeks.  "I could tell you, as well."

	"Would you?" Fletcher asked, through his sandwich.

	"Um.  Yeah.  Sure," said Al.  He thought of what he'd
read in the book, and where before he'd always vaguely
pictured his older brother and Russell in the
positions described, he had a sudden, clear image of
Fletcher, nude and slender, proudly erect and sweating
heavily, crying out as Al's touches brought him
pleasure -- and wondered if this sudden rush of heat
through his body was anything like what his brother
was feeling right then.

^*^*^*^*^*

	The next morning brought four bleary-eyed boys to the
breakfast table.

	Ed and Russell had gotten very little sleep the night
before, for obvious reasons.  Al and Fletcher had also
slept poorly.  After Al had explained the mechanics of
what Russell and Ed were doing next door, the two
younger boys had tried to settle into sleep. 
Fletcher's mind was awhirl with new information and
possibilities, while the concept of certain
possibilities with his new roommate unsettled Al
enough to make him too restless to sleep.  At that
point, Ed appeared to have taken it as a personal
mission to make Russell scream as long and as loudly
as possible.  Sleep had not made an appearance till
some hours later.

	"So what are you going to do?" Ed asked, dispensing
hot tea to the table.

	"More research," Russell said.  "For starters, the
rate of healing under non-hospital conditions can be
improved dramatically -- look at the rate of healing
*in* hospitals -- and we're going to find a key to
it."

	"Why not write up some of the things you've done, as
well?" asked Al.  "Publish the formula for that
enriching compost, or the education techniques you
used with those kids.  The reports say they were doing
quite sophisticated repairs by the end of that
fortnight."

	"I like that idea," Fletcher said.  "Let's publish
the compost recipe.  Then nobody will be able to take
it away from the miners or anyone else."

	Russell nodded.  "All right."  He looked over at Ed
and Al.  "Do you mind if we stay with you a while?"

	"No," the Elrics chorused.

	"This'll be fun," Al said cheerfully.

	"You can assist me in my researches," Ed said
magnamaniously.

	"Like hell," Russell replied.  "You can help in mine."

raye_j@yahoo.com
livejournal: http://windtear.livejournal.com
http://www.thejohnsens.com/index.html

"It 'went away'?  'I dwell in darkness without you'
and it WENT AWAY?"
  -- Sorcha, 'Willow'


 
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