Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and its affiliates are © Arakawa Himoru & BONES, etc. etc...

Author's Notes: ...I have no excuse. Rolf got me to admit my mind's in the gutter 24/7. Guess I'm proving him right with this thing. Um... My inspiration came from ep. 3 of the Full Metal Alchemist anime series: "Let's do that thing we used to do, Al." Or something to that effect. I know the plot's terribly overused but I couldn't get it out of my head, so there ya have it. WARNING!! This fic contains sexual innuendo between Ed and Al and it's implied Roy is fancying Ed. If that's not your thing (even though I meant it all in good fun =P) I suggest you steer clear right now. If not... Hope you enjoy!

Special Thanks: To Dr.Ko for beta-reading this for me. And to the people of FreeFMA.com for having done a splendid job, regarding the site. Love you guys.

"Let's do that thing we used to do, 'Niisan."

The fleeting rustle of cotton against leather. "Al... You can't be serious!" The alto voice lowered to an urgent whisper. "We're on a train."

Clanking of metal scraping against metal. "I know that, 'Niisan. But you were looking bored and I thought this would be a fun way to relieve that boredom."

"Well, what if someone comes in and sees us? Chances are word about it will reach Mustang's ears somehow and he'll never let me hear the end of it!"

Silence. Then...

"We never got disturbed during these train rides before. Maybe this car has been rented out especially for us."

"But what if it hasn't?" A frustrated exhale. "Look, I'm sorry Al, but I don't feel like taking that risk. Mustang's been on my case ever since day one and I don't think adding fuel to the flame (excuse the pun) will make matters any easier."

Uncomfortable silence. Which stretched. And stretched. And stretched.

Big sigh. "Al... what am I going to do with you?"

A distinct smile in the boy's voice. "'Niisan..."

"Yeah, yeah. Just tell me how you're going to..." Rustling of cotton again. "I mean, you don't have your..." Slump. "I... I'm sorry, Al..."

"It's okay, 'Niisan." Reassuring. A soft creak, before leather tapped against metal. "I can always use this horn, see?"

Quick gasp. "Y-your horn?! Al, that's--"

"You can always use Alchemy to soften the point. It wouldn't be fair to you otherwise." Air of suspicion. "You didn't think I would--"

Splutter. "O-of course not!" Mumble, mumble. "So what do you propose to use anyway? I've got nothing on me and I bet you don't either."

"Mmmmm... Ah! We can use those spare oil tubes Winry gave you for the maintenance of your arm!"

"Oh, forgot about those." Rustle, rustle. A soft grunt afterwards. "Here they are... they're both still filled to the brim."

"Un."

"...but where are we going to do this? These seats-"

Clanking and creaking.

"The aisle?"

"Un. That way we can chose between doing it on the floor or standing."

Resigned sigh. "OK, Al. Let's do it and get it over with... But I swear, if Mustang gets wind of this--"

"Too late, Hagane no." Snap!

Sergeant Fury couldn't keep from wincing as Colonel Roy Mustang viciously fried his equipment to cinders. A puff of black smoke circled the air around the unrecognizable heap of black dust, spiraling in the air until it dispersed and eventually disappeared. The young soldier barely managed to swallow the cry that wanted to be let out so badly. It had only been a prototype sent from HQ to be tested afterall. If word got out...

"Sergeant Fury."

Fury jumped and managed a stiff salute. "Y-yes, sir!"

"The listening devices were plagued by a bug. Dispose of this mess immediately." Without waiting for a response, ("Sir!") Roy turned and took his leave. An onimous sign of a thundercloud could almost be made out directly above the man's head if one looked closely enough.

The bespectacled soldier slumped in his chair, far too rattled for the moment to begin the task of cleaning up the junk his superior had left behind. "Whe... ah..."

2nd Lieutenants Breda and Havoc popped up from behind the listening device (or rather what was left of it). "Wonder what crawled up the Colonel's shorts all of a sudden..." Breda asked no one in particular.

The tall blond next to him smirked around his ever-present cancer stick. "Trouble in Paradise, what else?"

A dark chuckle escaped the robust man. "If that's the case I really don't envy Edward at the moment."

Meanwhile, on a train headed for East City, Edward sneezed, thereby officially losing an innocent little game of who could balance the Oil Tube on their nose the longest.

"That's not fair, somebody talked about me behind my back! I demand a rematch!"

"But 'Niisan if that's true than you would be constantly sneezing all over the place."

"Don't tease your big brother, Al!"

"'Niisan..."

The End

In a dark room, fingers snapped and a little flame burst to life. A photo-frame with the picture of a certain golden-haired, golden-eyed boy was lit up by the fire. A low chuckle could be heard.

Or is it...?