Madam Christmas

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The small, tidy little bar was incredibly clean and lacking of smoke hanging in the air that other bars carried like a staple on their menu. Behind the counter stood a tall woman, one who looked strangely unlike Roy. She hasn't noticed us, but looks over as Roy leans down to whisper in my ear. "She's raised me since I was just a boy, so she might say some embarrassing things."

As the woman's eyes land on me, I jump slightly, scared of her scrutinizing eyes. She must not believe I'm good enough for the man now holding my shoulders as he stands behind me to push me forward. Her demeanor changes as we get closer, becoming teasing of the boy she raised, a bit confrontational.

"Roy, who might this young woman be? You know, he never calls me, just turns up every once and a while moping about a girl." I glance behind me to see a grimace upon the man.

"Madam Christmas, this is Emma, my girlfriend."

Shock laces me at the brunt explanation of who I am, though happiness surges between us. She eyes me slightly, before pulling out a rather large binder from under the counter. "Wanna see baby pictures of Roy?"

"Madam!"

A giggle erupts from my throat, nodding enthusiastically at her offer. I feel Roy's embarrassment ease slightly at my excitement, as he shuffles me further, taking my jacket before I sit at the bar, his aunt opening the book in front of us.

I feel Roy's eyes on me, examining the changes in me. A memory of the first attack from Scar replaying in his mind, the cuts and bruises that covered my skin as we sat in the office. Thinner, the crop top sweater, dark pants and combat boots. I knew he was remembering me in a different light, thinking of how I am now covered to hide away the scars and my automail, comforted by softer materials now.

We spend most of our visit talking about Roy when he was younger, before she asked about my family. At first I didn't know how to respond, Roy squeezing my hand. I knew now that his parents were dead, something he didn't like talking about, but how to I explain my family.

"I have a twin brother, Edward, and a younger one, Alphonse. Our friend's grandmother helped take care of us, our mom died when we were young." I brace myself for the question of where my father is, the one that I'm unable to answer.

But Roy interrupts the conversation, "it's getting late Madam Christmas, and we have to be at the office early tomorrow." He stands, hugging her from across the bar, before I'm pulled into one by the woman too.

As we head out the door, I hear her yell one more thing to the man holding the door open for me. "Roy! Treat this one right, she's a keeper. I'll start the wedding plans!" Giving me a wink, I send a smile her way as the door closes between us.

"She's nice. Very forward."

Happiness and pride fills his being as he pulls my arm into his own, leading me down the street to his car. When we get there, I lean against the door, his body close to me.

Pressing his lips against mine, I tug him closer by his jacket. Though he pulls away with three words, ones that freeze me in place for just a moment. I know he is genuine and honest with his words, though I kiss him again, saying them back against him.

"I love you."

-------

Shelves lined with feminine products stood in front of me, chewing my bottom lip in contemplation. It's been three months since Roy and I spent our first night together, my birthday falling somewhere in the mix. I'd learned of my brother's whereabouts in the Briggs Fortress up North, though they still hadn't contacted me.

Now though, my mind ran with needing to pick the best brand to figure out if my intuition was correct. My body had been acting strangely, and searching for answers, I've changed my diet, cut back on coffee, and felt as if a test was in order.

A pregnancy test.

I return to an empty home, Roy conducting some business and Riza at the market. The tiles of our bathroom are cold to the feet, and my mind spins as I do my business.

As I wait, I scrub my hands clean. Nerves strung out, I think of all of our moments together over the few months.  Thinking of each touch, every kiss. Remembering each gasp of pleasure.

Even the conversation of this topic.

Snuggled together in his bed, his fingers play with strands of my hair. "Roy, do you want kids?" I don't know why I brought it up, my own curiosity causing his thoughts to freeze.

"One day. When we're more stable, our future more defined and unblurred. Why do you ask?"

I shrug slightly, happy with the answer, content with the idea of creating a future with this man. "How many of them?"

His smile and chuckle causes me to lean up on his bare chest, our naked bodies pressed together comfortably. "Two or three, boy and girl. She'll look so much like you."

"But they'll have your eyes."

"Is there something you want to tell me, Emma?"

I giggle, rolling off of him just for him to turn towards me, eyes rolling down to my stomach, wide. "No, there's no baby."

And then the two little pink lines appeared.

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