"Bradley's office was buried in the middle of this building," Mustang pointed out. "Mine faces out over the city. And by standing at these windows, and being seen here, I say that I trust the loyalty of the people around me. Soldiers and civilians both."

"This," Maas wiggled the carafe in his left hand, "is Gracia's special blend, which she presciently gave me a stash of in case I ever really needed to get Roy's attention at work. My wife is brilliant. Now," he repeated, "what got them going?"

"All right. I can deal with her fixation on healthy food, Sensei was the same way. It's probably a female thing." Ed paused to glance suspiciously at Mustang. He could have sworn the man who terrorized hard-bitten generals every day and twice on Sundays had just squeaked.

"Nii-san, you're not our father," Al murmured.

"But what if I am?" Ed slumped. "I mean, what if this was how it started with him, too? A few trips to the city to pick up something for Mom, and then some trips further away to find some interesting books or talk to scholars, and then he got into something bigger than he could understand, and the next thing you know he's creating monsters and destroying cities and not giving a damn about his family."

Hughes gave him a brisk shake. "Stop that. I'll always support you, and you know it. And your people will follow you to Hell as many times as you choose to go there. But is there anyone else who can do what he did? Ed the Amazing, Traveling Trouble Magnet, Problems Solved at No Extra Charge?"