Roy Mustang/Jean Havoc + Charlie the Dog for 30_kisses [theme #25; fence]
Title: The Five Trials Of Charlie
Author: galuxkitty
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Roy Mustang/Jean Havoc + Charlie the Dog
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2517
Warnings: Alternate future, taking place after Episode 51, ridiculous fluff.
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is the rightful property of Hiromu Arakawa. This is a fanwork written purely for both your entertainment and mine. Charlie the Dog belongs to myself and raja815.
Five short vignettes. AU-domesticity-based Roy/Jean fluff including Charlie the Golden Retriever, whom you may have seen in my Christmas drabbles.
Also Theme #25 for 30_kisses, which just happens to be ‘fence’.
Puppy In The Snow
Roy has been expecting something more exciting when Jean had made him drag himself forcefully away from his afterglow contentment, dress and head out into the freezing snow, having insisted that he ‘had to see this’. Roy had grumbled, dressed and then chastised Jean for smoking in the house. The blond man shouted a hurried apology over his shoulder and headed back out into their front yard, and the older man had followed unimpressed with Havoc’s unjustified euphoria. Ergo, Mustang wasn’t all that ecstatic over what Havoc had to show him from the very start. When he actually found out what it was, he was even less impressed than he was initially.
“A dog?”
“Isn’t he cute, Roy?” Havoc was almost sparkling with unrestrained affection for the little gold mutt, quite possibly enough to put Armstrong to shame. The pup wagged its tail against the chain link fence.
“You dragged me out here to see the dog?”
“Yeah, but aren’t you happy I did?” Havoc grinned.
Roy bit his lip and said nothing. The puppy stood up and wobbled over to where Jean was standing.
“How did it get in the yard?” Roy questioned sharply.
“I don’t know, but he seems friendly,” Havoc said, bending down to pat the dog, who obediently licked his hand in response. Roy recognized the look on his lover’s face; he’d seen it years ago on his older sister, who had been picking out a kitten as a birthday present.
“Can we keep him?”
“He’s probably just lost. We can take him to the pound tomorrow.”
“No, he’s really thin. He hasn’t been fed for ages,” Jean frowned, rubbing his hand over the mutt’s belly, “That’s a long time to be lost. We would have heard something by now if he was from around here.”
“We don’t have the money to keep him.”
“Roy, even if we aren’t in the military anymore, I know perfectly well you still get paid to do alchemical research.”
“It’s too much of a responsibility,” Roy insisted; he was fast running out of excuses.
“Now you just sound like my parents,” Havoc snorted and picked up the puppy, “Come on, Roy. You used to love dogs. Loyal, hard-working, never begging for paycheques? Does that sound familiar?”
“It’s different when the dog’s begging off my paycheque.”
“Bastard.”
“I know... wait, what are you doing?”
“Taking him inside,” Jean retorted. From under the thick material of his jacket a black nose emerged, closely followed by a pink tongue.
“Why?”
“We’re keeping him.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come on, Roy. I’ve wanted a dog since I was a kid.”
Damn it. The dog’s adorable look couldn’t faze him, but one look at that hangdog puppy-eyed look of Havoc’s...
“Fine.”
“You’re the best, Roy,” Jean beamed, reaching down into his jacket to pat the dog on the head. Roy snorted and headed back into the house to continue his post-coital relaxation.
At least, that was the plan. Roy didn’t spare the ranting and raving when the pup crawled into his bed and pressed his nose against his lower back.
“Aww, Roy! He just wants to be friends!”
Roy scowled, and herded both of his golden-haired, dopey-eyed housemates out of the bedroom and locked the door.
... And I Shall Give You Mine
A week on a warm milk-like formula the vet had given them, Roy observed, had fattened the dog up. When Jean had first found him, he looked like a furry broomstick. Now he resembled a furry barrel. The pup finished his meal, licked his lips and toddled over to Roy, only to jump away and yelp to avoid the slippered foot that threatened to hit him.
“Roy!”
The dark-haired man looked up just in time to see his lover’s facial expression to shift from mortified to enraged.
“Did you try and kick him?”
“No, I was merely trying to direct him away from my personal space.”
“You’re a real asshole sometimes, Roy,” Jean snarled, before picking up the pup and cuddling him, “Are you alright, boy?”
“Are you ever going to name him?” Roy snorted as Havoc ruffled the dog’s ears affectionately.
“Of course I am. Once I find a good name. I can’t call him ‘puppy’ and ‘boy’ forever, obviously.”
“What about...”
“Roy, I already told you we’re not calling him Stupid Mongrel.”
“Your loss,” Roy smirked.
“Roy, I’m being serious.”
“Fine,” the older man sighed dramatically and ran his hand through his hair, “When my sisters had pets when we were young, my parents always used to tell them to go through the alphabet... and don’t even think it,” Roy finished, glaring at the pup who was poised, ready to lick his bare toes through the open front of his slippers.
“Alright then,” Jean said, frowning in concentration, “A is for Alpha...”
“Why Alpha?”
“Military alphabet,” Havoc grinned as the pup jumped up against Roy’s leg and wagged his tail.
“Jean, can you call off this damned dog?” Roy snarled as said damned dog sat himself firmly on Roy’s lap with tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth happily.
“He’s not hurting you, Roy,” Jean snorted, “B is for Bravo... Bravo? Nah, doesn’t suit him...”
Roy scowled some more as the little golden mutt curled up on his lap and closed his eyes, drooling contentedly on Roy’s knee and kicking out his back legs.
“Havoc...” Roy started, but received no response from his lover, who was apparently lost in thought.
“C is for Charlie... Charlie... hmmm, that’s not too bad...” Havoc grinned, walking over to pick up the sleepy puppy from Roy’s lap, “What about that, boy? Charlie sound good to you?”
The dog squirmed and writhed around as Jean picked him up, and craned his neck forward to try and lick the blond man’s nose. Havoc grinned.
“Charlie it is, then!”
Roy sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He really hoped Jean realized that the pup was only reacting to being paid attention. He really, truly hoped.
“Come on Charlie!” Jean called happily, and the newly named puppy jumped up and followed his master out of the room.
When The Dog Walks The Man
Roy had decided that Jean had definitely gone overboard with the idea of puppy parenthood. So far, he’d bought Charlie two baskets (the first one had been chewed to pieces), a collar complete with ID tag should the mutt ever get lost, a lead, four food bowls engraved with the dog’s name, what seemed like a billion toys and had received a few knitted dog jackets from his mother to keep him warm.
Roy’s incredibly fair assumption so far was that his lover had gone mad.
Said insane lover had gone back to the factory where he now worked today, after the winter holidays, and Roy was left to take Charlie for his morning walk. The pup bounded around his feet and tugged hard enough on his lead to choke any normal dog, and Roy had to loop the lead around his arm so Charlie didn’t slip the lead and escape.
He waddled along, nose to the ground and tail in the air while Roy trailed behind unwillingly, his left jacket pocket stuffed full of plastic bags in case of an ‘accident’ and his wallet and house keys in the other. The dog apparently needed more food, and they needed the basic essentials like bread and milk, so Roy needed to walk Charlie further than he’d ever been walked before, and somehow he didn’t think the pup would be half as energetic on the way back, especially since he’d just used up at least half his energy trying to chase a tabby cat. The cat had simply given Charlie a disdainful look and curled up on a patch of grass that was poking through the snow.
Once they got to the store, Roy tied Charlie up on the post outside and stepped into the shop. As soon as Roy disappeared from sight, Charlie sat down and started whining and howling, causing Roy to swear the dog wasn’t his to the shopkeeper, who looked at him sceptically. He was hoping the heat in his cheeks was just from the scarf wrapped around his face and not from embarrassment.
Roy had no idea what brand of dog food Jean usually bought Charlie, so he grabbed something called ‘Happy Woof for Puppies’, the bread, milk and a tin of cheap tea imported from Xing, paid for his purchase and left the shop. As soon as the door swung open, Charlie’s crying ceased and Roy knew by now that his lie was even more transparent than it had been back when he was in the shop, the only customer in sight.
About halfway back to the house, Charlie started lagging behind. By the time they were a block from home, Roy had to pull to keep the mutt on his feet. Stopping on the street corner, Roy sighed and looked over his shoulder at the puppy. Charlie was panting heavily, but still walking to try and catch up to Roy’s heels, his blue and red doggy jacket lopsided.
The dark-haired man sighed, leaned over, picked the puppy up and held him against his chest, carrying the small bundle of golden fluff to the end of the street where they lived, only putting him down to unlock the door. Charlie bolted under Roy’s feet to get to the water bowl Jean had left out for him in the kitchen, and Roy almost tripped and fell down the stairs leading up to the front door.
Grumbling, but sounding far madder than he felt, Roy shuffled inside and locked the door.
Dreamtime
Jean had come home late that night, and after sitting at the table reading over his notes while his lover sat opposite him eating his reheated meal, all Roy wanted to do was go to bed.
Havoc was curled up and asleep ten minutes after he’d crawled into bed, and Roy was just about done with reading over the notes he had to send out to Central Headquarters the next day. Quickly scanning the final page and making sure he’d signed everywhere he had to sign to prove it was him (although how many other experts on Flame Alchemy that could pretend to be him there were in Amestris he wasn’t sure), he placed the papers on the bedside table, placed the lamp on top of them so they wouldn’t scatter, and then switched the lamp off and wriggled down into the sheets.
Shifting across the bed to slide his arms around Jean’s waist, Roy pressed a soft kiss to the skin between Jean’s shoulder blades and then rested his forehead there, shutting his eyes sighing softly against his lover’s skin. Havoc snuffled a little but didn’t stir.
Roy was almost asleep when he heard a soft whining sound. Trying his best to ignore it, snuggled further down into the sheets, until the yelping and crying got so loud that Jean started to stir.
“Roy,” he mumbled softly, obviously still half-asleep, “What’s that?”
“Nothing,” Roy replied, trying his best not to sound aggravated, “Go back to sleep.”
“Wait...” Havoc hoisted himself up, and Roy grumbled at the loss of heat and tried to drag him back down, “Is that Charlie? Hey, stop it, Roy...”
“He’s probably fine,” Roy replied, knowing that it would fall of deaf ears.
“I told you not to lock him out, you know!” Havoc sounded absolutely scandalized. Charlie, apparently encouraged by his master’s distraught-sounding voice, started barking and scratching at the door.
“Excuse me for wanting a decent night’s sleep!” Roy snapped back. Jean ignored him, and Roy was suddenly reminded of when his parents used to fight; his mother always made a point of lavishing her attention on him and his sisters until she and his father had made up.
“Come on, boy,” Jean grinned as he held the door open, and Charlie trotted through into the bedroom, tail wagging and short claws clicking on the wooden floor in a way that Roy found genuinely conceited.
When Jean slid back into bed, Charlie jumped up onto the end of the bed and curled up into a ball, looking very much like an overstuffed cushion. Roy lay awake after Jean had drifted off to sleep, staring at the little mutt curled up at his feet.
“Just this once,” Roy said sternly, and then rolled over and shut his eyes. Charlie’s tail gave one lazy flick against the blanket.
Resolution
Standing at the front door, rugged up in four layers of clothing to combat the cold winds of early spring, Roy watched Charlie sniff around the fence line of the house in his doggy jacket (bottle green this time, with a large white ‘C’ knitted lovingly into the center of the back). Havoc’s mother, Esther, had apparently resigned herself to a life free of grandchildren, and now sent Charlie an assortment of little jackets every time she sent up a jumper for Jean, or a pie for the both of them to share (although Roy had become rather accustomed to Jean’s hands disappearing under the table and Charlie’s mouth suddenly being stained with gravy).
The dog, apparently having finished his daily inspection of the yard, had climbed back up the short set of stairs leading to the front door and walked back into the house, and Roy followed, shutting the door behind him. At least they had a small fireplace in the lounge room to keep the house warm. Roy stripped off two of the four layers of clothing he was wearing and sat down on the couch. Charlie slid under his legs and lay down; Roy had to tell Jean to stop slipping him scraps, he was really getting too big for all of it to be puppy fat...
Reaching over to the small chest of drawers next to the couch, Roy dug around in the bottom drawer until he found his gloves; he rarely used them for anything these days, as there was no need after he left the military, but he slid them on his cold hands anyway and concentrated, snapping his fingers. The fireplace opposite to him lit up, and Charlie jumped.
Roy chuckled and reached down to ruffle the dog’s ears; Charlie seemed to anticipate his moves and immediately arched up and licked the palm of his gloved hand.
“Stupid mutt,” Roy smiled, and he wondered just when he’d started liking the dog’s company. Charlie’s tail wagged so hard against the floor that it almost shook.
Later, neither Roy nor Charlie heard the door open, signifying Jean’s arrival home from work. The blond man walked into the lounge room to find Roy asleep on the couch near the dying fireplace, and Charlie with his head rested in Roy’s lap whilst he drooled contentedly and pedalled his legs against the couch cushion, obviously dreaming.
Grinning, Jean walked over and placed a kiss on Roy’s cheek, petted Charlie on the head and then went to wash off the day’s work.
END
This fic takes place in an alternate future where Roy and his subordinates were dishonourably discharged from the military after the coup. Roy kept both his eyes, but wanted to go into hiding to avoid the media and general public after the coup. He and Jean moved to a town up north. Hawkeye lives about three hours away by train with Black Hayate; Falman lives in the west, and both Breda and Fuery moved south. They’re all trying to settle into domestic life and keep in contact. The government still pays Roy to research alchemy, which isn’t surprising considering Amestris’s armed forces aren’t well known for their total lack of moral corruption.
Comments would be appreciated.
Author: galuxkitty
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Roy Mustang/Jean Havoc + Charlie the Dog
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2517
Warnings: Alternate future, taking place after Episode 51, ridiculous fluff.
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is the rightful property of Hiromu Arakawa. This is a fanwork written purely for both your entertainment and mine. Charlie the Dog belongs to myself and raja815.
Five short vignettes. AU-domesticity-based Roy/Jean fluff including Charlie the Golden Retriever, whom you may have seen in my Christmas drabbles.
Also Theme #25 for 30_kisses, which just happens to be ‘fence’.
Puppy In The Snow
Roy has been expecting something more exciting when Jean had made him drag himself forcefully away from his afterglow contentment, dress and head out into the freezing snow, having insisted that he ‘had to see this’. Roy had grumbled, dressed and then chastised Jean for smoking in the house. The blond man shouted a hurried apology over his shoulder and headed back out into their front yard, and the older man had followed unimpressed with Havoc’s unjustified euphoria. Ergo, Mustang wasn’t all that ecstatic over what Havoc had to show him from the very start. When he actually found out what it was, he was even less impressed than he was initially.
“A dog?”
“Isn’t he cute, Roy?” Havoc was almost sparkling with unrestrained affection for the little gold mutt, quite possibly enough to put Armstrong to shame. The pup wagged its tail against the chain link fence.
“You dragged me out here to see the dog?”
“Yeah, but aren’t you happy I did?” Havoc grinned.
Roy bit his lip and said nothing. The puppy stood up and wobbled over to where Jean was standing.
“How did it get in the yard?” Roy questioned sharply.
“I don’t know, but he seems friendly,” Havoc said, bending down to pat the dog, who obediently licked his hand in response. Roy recognized the look on his lover’s face; he’d seen it years ago on his older sister, who had been picking out a kitten as a birthday present.
“Can we keep him?”
“He’s probably just lost. We can take him to the pound tomorrow.”
“No, he’s really thin. He hasn’t been fed for ages,” Jean frowned, rubbing his hand over the mutt’s belly, “That’s a long time to be lost. We would have heard something by now if he was from around here.”
“We don’t have the money to keep him.”
“Roy, even if we aren’t in the military anymore, I know perfectly well you still get paid to do alchemical research.”
“It’s too much of a responsibility,” Roy insisted; he was fast running out of excuses.
“Now you just sound like my parents,” Havoc snorted and picked up the puppy, “Come on, Roy. You used to love dogs. Loyal, hard-working, never begging for paycheques? Does that sound familiar?”
“It’s different when the dog’s begging off my paycheque.”
“Bastard.”
“I know... wait, what are you doing?”
“Taking him inside,” Jean retorted. From under the thick material of his jacket a black nose emerged, closely followed by a pink tongue.
“Why?”
“We’re keeping him.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come on, Roy. I’ve wanted a dog since I was a kid.”
Damn it. The dog’s adorable look couldn’t faze him, but one look at that hangdog puppy-eyed look of Havoc’s...
“Fine.”
“You’re the best, Roy,” Jean beamed, reaching down into his jacket to pat the dog on the head. Roy snorted and headed back into the house to continue his post-coital relaxation.
At least, that was the plan. Roy didn’t spare the ranting and raving when the pup crawled into his bed and pressed his nose against his lower back.
“Aww, Roy! He just wants to be friends!”
Roy scowled, and herded both of his golden-haired, dopey-eyed housemates out of the bedroom and locked the door.
... And I Shall Give You Mine
A week on a warm milk-like formula the vet had given them, Roy observed, had fattened the dog up. When Jean had first found him, he looked like a furry broomstick. Now he resembled a furry barrel. The pup finished his meal, licked his lips and toddled over to Roy, only to jump away and yelp to avoid the slippered foot that threatened to hit him.
“Roy!”
The dark-haired man looked up just in time to see his lover’s facial expression to shift from mortified to enraged.
“Did you try and kick him?”
“No, I was merely trying to direct him away from my personal space.”
“You’re a real asshole sometimes, Roy,” Jean snarled, before picking up the pup and cuddling him, “Are you alright, boy?”
“Are you ever going to name him?” Roy snorted as Havoc ruffled the dog’s ears affectionately.
“Of course I am. Once I find a good name. I can’t call him ‘puppy’ and ‘boy’ forever, obviously.”
“What about...”
“Roy, I already told you we’re not calling him Stupid Mongrel.”
“Your loss,” Roy smirked.
“Roy, I’m being serious.”
“Fine,” the older man sighed dramatically and ran his hand through his hair, “When my sisters had pets when we were young, my parents always used to tell them to go through the alphabet... and don’t even think it,” Roy finished, glaring at the pup who was poised, ready to lick his bare toes through the open front of his slippers.
“Alright then,” Jean said, frowning in concentration, “A is for Alpha...”
“Why Alpha?”
“Military alphabet,” Havoc grinned as the pup jumped up against Roy’s leg and wagged his tail.
“Jean, can you call off this damned dog?” Roy snarled as said damned dog sat himself firmly on Roy’s lap with tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth happily.
“He’s not hurting you, Roy,” Jean snorted, “B is for Bravo... Bravo? Nah, doesn’t suit him...”
Roy scowled some more as the little golden mutt curled up on his lap and closed his eyes, drooling contentedly on Roy’s knee and kicking out his back legs.
“Havoc...” Roy started, but received no response from his lover, who was apparently lost in thought.
“C is for Charlie... Charlie... hmmm, that’s not too bad...” Havoc grinned, walking over to pick up the sleepy puppy from Roy’s lap, “What about that, boy? Charlie sound good to you?”
The dog squirmed and writhed around as Jean picked him up, and craned his neck forward to try and lick the blond man’s nose. Havoc grinned.
“Charlie it is, then!”
Roy sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He really hoped Jean realized that the pup was only reacting to being paid attention. He really, truly hoped.
“Come on Charlie!” Jean called happily, and the newly named puppy jumped up and followed his master out of the room.
When The Dog Walks The Man
Roy had decided that Jean had definitely gone overboard with the idea of puppy parenthood. So far, he’d bought Charlie two baskets (the first one had been chewed to pieces), a collar complete with ID tag should the mutt ever get lost, a lead, four food bowls engraved with the dog’s name, what seemed like a billion toys and had received a few knitted dog jackets from his mother to keep him warm.
Roy’s incredibly fair assumption so far was that his lover had gone mad.
Said insane lover had gone back to the factory where he now worked today, after the winter holidays, and Roy was left to take Charlie for his morning walk. The pup bounded around his feet and tugged hard enough on his lead to choke any normal dog, and Roy had to loop the lead around his arm so Charlie didn’t slip the lead and escape.
He waddled along, nose to the ground and tail in the air while Roy trailed behind unwillingly, his left jacket pocket stuffed full of plastic bags in case of an ‘accident’ and his wallet and house keys in the other. The dog apparently needed more food, and they needed the basic essentials like bread and milk, so Roy needed to walk Charlie further than he’d ever been walked before, and somehow he didn’t think the pup would be half as energetic on the way back, especially since he’d just used up at least half his energy trying to chase a tabby cat. The cat had simply given Charlie a disdainful look and curled up on a patch of grass that was poking through the snow.
Once they got to the store, Roy tied Charlie up on the post outside and stepped into the shop. As soon as Roy disappeared from sight, Charlie sat down and started whining and howling, causing Roy to swear the dog wasn’t his to the shopkeeper, who looked at him sceptically. He was hoping the heat in his cheeks was just from the scarf wrapped around his face and not from embarrassment.
Roy had no idea what brand of dog food Jean usually bought Charlie, so he grabbed something called ‘Happy Woof for Puppies’, the bread, milk and a tin of cheap tea imported from Xing, paid for his purchase and left the shop. As soon as the door swung open, Charlie’s crying ceased and Roy knew by now that his lie was even more transparent than it had been back when he was in the shop, the only customer in sight.
About halfway back to the house, Charlie started lagging behind. By the time they were a block from home, Roy had to pull to keep the mutt on his feet. Stopping on the street corner, Roy sighed and looked over his shoulder at the puppy. Charlie was panting heavily, but still walking to try and catch up to Roy’s heels, his blue and red doggy jacket lopsided.
The dark-haired man sighed, leaned over, picked the puppy up and held him against his chest, carrying the small bundle of golden fluff to the end of the street where they lived, only putting him down to unlock the door. Charlie bolted under Roy’s feet to get to the water bowl Jean had left out for him in the kitchen, and Roy almost tripped and fell down the stairs leading up to the front door.
Grumbling, but sounding far madder than he felt, Roy shuffled inside and locked the door.
Dreamtime
Jean had come home late that night, and after sitting at the table reading over his notes while his lover sat opposite him eating his reheated meal, all Roy wanted to do was go to bed.
Havoc was curled up and asleep ten minutes after he’d crawled into bed, and Roy was just about done with reading over the notes he had to send out to Central Headquarters the next day. Quickly scanning the final page and making sure he’d signed everywhere he had to sign to prove it was him (although how many other experts on Flame Alchemy that could pretend to be him there were in Amestris he wasn’t sure), he placed the papers on the bedside table, placed the lamp on top of them so they wouldn’t scatter, and then switched the lamp off and wriggled down into the sheets.
Shifting across the bed to slide his arms around Jean’s waist, Roy pressed a soft kiss to the skin between Jean’s shoulder blades and then rested his forehead there, shutting his eyes sighing softly against his lover’s skin. Havoc snuffled a little but didn’t stir.
Roy was almost asleep when he heard a soft whining sound. Trying his best to ignore it, snuggled further down into the sheets, until the yelping and crying got so loud that Jean started to stir.
“Roy,” he mumbled softly, obviously still half-asleep, “What’s that?”
“Nothing,” Roy replied, trying his best not to sound aggravated, “Go back to sleep.”
“Wait...” Havoc hoisted himself up, and Roy grumbled at the loss of heat and tried to drag him back down, “Is that Charlie? Hey, stop it, Roy...”
“He’s probably fine,” Roy replied, knowing that it would fall of deaf ears.
“I told you not to lock him out, you know!” Havoc sounded absolutely scandalized. Charlie, apparently encouraged by his master’s distraught-sounding voice, started barking and scratching at the door.
“Excuse me for wanting a decent night’s sleep!” Roy snapped back. Jean ignored him, and Roy was suddenly reminded of when his parents used to fight; his mother always made a point of lavishing her attention on him and his sisters until she and his father had made up.
“Come on, boy,” Jean grinned as he held the door open, and Charlie trotted through into the bedroom, tail wagging and short claws clicking on the wooden floor in a way that Roy found genuinely conceited.
When Jean slid back into bed, Charlie jumped up onto the end of the bed and curled up into a ball, looking very much like an overstuffed cushion. Roy lay awake after Jean had drifted off to sleep, staring at the little mutt curled up at his feet.
“Just this once,” Roy said sternly, and then rolled over and shut his eyes. Charlie’s tail gave one lazy flick against the blanket.
Resolution
Standing at the front door, rugged up in four layers of clothing to combat the cold winds of early spring, Roy watched Charlie sniff around the fence line of the house in his doggy jacket (bottle green this time, with a large white ‘C’ knitted lovingly into the center of the back). Havoc’s mother, Esther, had apparently resigned herself to a life free of grandchildren, and now sent Charlie an assortment of little jackets every time she sent up a jumper for Jean, or a pie for the both of them to share (although Roy had become rather accustomed to Jean’s hands disappearing under the table and Charlie’s mouth suddenly being stained with gravy).
The dog, apparently having finished his daily inspection of the yard, had climbed back up the short set of stairs leading to the front door and walked back into the house, and Roy followed, shutting the door behind him. At least they had a small fireplace in the lounge room to keep the house warm. Roy stripped off two of the four layers of clothing he was wearing and sat down on the couch. Charlie slid under his legs and lay down; Roy had to tell Jean to stop slipping him scraps, he was really getting too big for all of it to be puppy fat...
Reaching over to the small chest of drawers next to the couch, Roy dug around in the bottom drawer until he found his gloves; he rarely used them for anything these days, as there was no need after he left the military, but he slid them on his cold hands anyway and concentrated, snapping his fingers. The fireplace opposite to him lit up, and Charlie jumped.
Roy chuckled and reached down to ruffle the dog’s ears; Charlie seemed to anticipate his moves and immediately arched up and licked the palm of his gloved hand.
“Stupid mutt,” Roy smiled, and he wondered just when he’d started liking the dog’s company. Charlie’s tail wagged so hard against the floor that it almost shook.
Later, neither Roy nor Charlie heard the door open, signifying Jean’s arrival home from work. The blond man walked into the lounge room to find Roy asleep on the couch near the dying fireplace, and Charlie with his head rested in Roy’s lap whilst he drooled contentedly and pedalled his legs against the couch cushion, obviously dreaming.
Grinning, Jean walked over and placed a kiss on Roy’s cheek, petted Charlie on the head and then went to wash off the day’s work.
END
This fic takes place in an alternate future where Roy and his subordinates were dishonourably discharged from the military after the coup. Roy kept both his eyes, but wanted to go into hiding to avoid the media and general public after the coup. He and Jean moved to a town up north. Hawkeye lives about three hours away by train with Black Hayate; Falman lives in the west, and both Breda and Fuery moved south. They’re all trying to settle into domestic life and keep in contact. The government still pays Roy to research alchemy, which isn’t surprising considering Amestris’s armed forces aren’t well known for their total lack of moral corruption.
Comments would be appreciated.