light_a_spark | MCA #7

"You've said," she agreed easily. "But what's alchemy in one world is magic in another? Maybe."

"If gods are actually real to you," Roy said with a shrug, he didn't like the idea, though. Alchemy was a science and that was all there was to it.

She raised an eyebrow. "If."

He glanced up at her. "Force of habit," he said. "And while they may- While they're real in your world, they still very much aren't in mine. So I suppose that alchemy might very well be magic in one world, it doesn't change that it's a science in mine."

"Never said it did," she said with a grin. "Just that this is about as dry and dense as Thom's tomes of magic."

Roy grinned and held out his hand to take the book. "Most alchemy books are to someone who doesn't use it."

Aly handed over the book, just getting more curious about his obvious lack of interest in letting her see them.

"Written in code so the uninitiated can't read?" she teased.

"Sometimes," he allowed as he put the book beside the others on the shelf. "Is that something commonly used for magical books?"

"It's something used for many kinds of books," she pointed out.

"I've only really heard about it in relation to alchemy," he admitted, picking up the rest of the books on the ground and putting them away as well.

"You can take a seat if you want," he offered. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Truly? You only ever used codes for alchemy?" Aly was almost bemused at the thought.

She smiled, making a move towards the chessboard, but not yet sitting down. "I would, thank you."

"No, but those weren't exactly books," he nitpicked. "Coffee? Water? Juice? Soda? Whiskey," he added the last one with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes, making a face at him. "Juice of a type that comes from a fruit, please?"

Roy laughed. "No potato juice," he nodded and finishing putting the books on the shelf, he headed into the kitchen to get their drinks.

"Thank you," Aly said, running her finger along the books in the shelf until she came to the two framed pictures. Looking at them both, she picked up the picture of his staff, studying the faces carefully.

Returning from the kitchen with two glasses of orange juice, Roy couldn't say he was surprised to find her still near the bookcase.

He put the glasses down, but stayed on the other side of the table as he watched her. "My staff."

"I thought so," she said, glancing up at him then back at the picture. "Are they all alchemists?" She sounded doubtful.

"Only Armstrong," Roy replied, then smirked a little. "He's that one that didn't quite fit on the picture."

"Has he ever gotten a complex about his head getting cut off?" she asked with a grin.

Roy laughed and finally moved around the table. "The Major is very hard to give a complex," he assured her. He could go on about how the man would probably just say that anyone would be able to recognise his nice physique, but decided to spare her that bit of his personality for now.

"Probably lucky for him," she replied. "Who are the others in the picture?"

Because nothing said you couldn't ask questions even if you doubted they'd be answered.

Maybe talking to Hawkeye had put him in a more benevolent mood as he moved beside Aly. He paused for a moment, very much avoiding looking at himself on the picture.

"Breda, Falman, Fuery, Havoc, Hawkeye and Hughes," he indicated them on the picture as he summed up their names.

She didn't ask where they were now. It was a dangerous question after there'd been a war.

"And that's Hughes too?" she asked, nodding towards the other picture. She smiled. "He's cute."

Roy raised an eyebrow, easily able to imagine exactly how Hughes would take a compliment like that. It might have involved pictures of a certain little girl. Then his shoulders sagged and he moved back to the table.

"Yeah, that's him."

Aly picked up on the change of demeanor and set the picture back on the bookshelf, following him over.

"I don't mean to pry," she said quietly. She totally did.

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