This is good. [ Mustang busies himself with shoveling eggs down his throat. He lifts his fork like raising a glass for a toast. A piece of egg draped over its tines quivers and he smiles. ] Not bad, Lieutenant. Who knew you were this well-versed in the womanly arts?

[ As much as the Colonel wants the conversation to remain warm and relaxed, their unfortunate situation demands immediate action. ]

You’re right. And if you repeat that, I’ll deny ever having said it. [ Mustang dips down his head and looks at her through the veil of his lashes. ]

Since we’re keeping our association quiet, I need you to put out feelers in the community for those willing to fight for their freedom. In the meantime, we’ll transmit messages through the usual verbal ciphers and meet somewhere dark with very little traffic. Probably closer to my side of town. So. How does every other Thursday sound to you?