Work Text:
Alfons Heiderich glanced at the ticking grandfather clock in the corner of their Munich apartment, his hands slightly trembling as he adjusted his suspenders for the third time. The hands pointed to 7:22, leaving them precisely eight minutes before their train to the rocketry facility would depart without fail.
"Edward!" Alfons called toward the kitchen, his voice tight with anxiety. "We must leave immediately if we wish to catch the 7:30 train!"
A lazy response drifted from the kitchen. "Relax, Alfons. There's still time to properly enjoy breakfast." Edward Elric sauntered into the hallway, holding a half-eaten piece of toast with jam dripping down his fingers. "German trains are efficient, but even they aren't so rigid as to leave at exactly 7:30."
Alfons's eyes widened in horror. "Exactly? They leave PRECISELY at 7:30! Not a minute after! The German railway prides itself on punctuality, Edward! It is the foundation of our transportation system!"
Edward took another leisurely bite of his bread. "You say that as if it's a religion. In my world, being five minutes late wasn't exactly a disaster." He glanced at Alfons's twitching eye. "Though I suppose in Germany, it might be considered a federal offense."
"It is a matter of order! Of discipline!" Alfons wrung his hands. "If we miss this train, we will be late for the rocket alignment calculations with Oberth. He specifically requested our presence at 8:15 sharp!"
Edward rolled his eyes. "I'm sure Oberth won't collapse into a heap of despair if we're a few minutes late. Plus, I'm not even dressed yet." He gestured to his nightgown.
Alfons felt a vein pulsing in his forehead. "Not dressed? Edward, it is 7:25 now! We have FIVE minutes!" He began pacing the small entryway, his polished shoes clicking anxiously against the wooden floor. "I set my alarm precisely 45 minutes earlier than necessary. I allowed for possible delays. I calculated the optimal route to the station considering morning traffic patterns. Why? Because punctuality is not merely a habit, it is a moral obligation!"
Edward casually walked back toward the kitchen. "I need more coffee. You Germans and your neurotic relationship with time. Everything must be organized, everything must be precise, everything must happen according to schedule. Don't you ever just want to... be?"
"BE?" Alfons practically shrieked, "We will BE late if you do not put on your trousers immediately!" He checked his watch again. "7:27! Three minutes, Edward! THREE!"
"You know," Edward called from the kitchen, "in Amestris, we had a saying: 'Better late than never.'"
"We have a better saying in Germany!" Alfons retorted. "'Better dead than late!'" He immediately regretted his exaggeration as he heard the water running.
Edward emerged finally buttoning his shirt. "Alright, alright, I'm coming. But I'm telling you, if we run all the way to the station and the train hasn't even arrived yet, I'm never listening to you about timing again."
Alfons grabbed their coats, practically throwing Edward's at him. "The timetable is sacrosanct! The train arrives at platform 3 at 7:28 for boarding and departs at 7:30! It has been this way since the line was established!"
They rushed out the door, Alfons checking his watch every three seconds as they hurried down the cobblestone street. Edward, despite his earlier complaints, was keeping pace reasonably well.
"We can still make it!" Alfons panted as the station came into view. "The clock tower reads 7:29! Thirty seconds!"
They sprinted up the stairs to platform 3, just in time to see the train doors closing and the conductor blowing his whistle.
"NEIN!" Alfons cried out, dropping to his knees in theatrical despair. "We have missed it! By a mere matter of seconds! This is a catastrophe!"
Edward leaned against the station post, catching his breath. "Well, look on the bright side."
"There IS no bright side!" Alfons wailed. "My reputation! Our timing! The fundamental order of the universe has been violated!"
Edward shrugged. "At least we can go back and finish breakfast properly. I was still hungry." He checked his pocket watch. "When's the next train?"
Alfons looked at the schedule posted on the platform, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Eight hours."
Edward's cheerful expression evaporated. "Eight hours? Are you serious? They only run one train every eight hours to the rocket facility? What kind of efficiency is that?"
"Special service line," Alfons mumbled, sinking onto a bench. "For research personnel."
"Well that's just ridiculous," Edward grumbled. "So we're stuck here for eight hours because you had a panic attack about being exactly on time?" He sat down heavily next to Alfons. "I'm going to need a lot more coffee to get through this."
Alfons glared at him. "If you had been ready on time, we would not be in this predicament!"
"If you weren't so wound up about German punctuality neurosis, maybe we could have enjoyed a normal breakfast and caught the next train which I'm SURE would have gotten us there eventually," Edward retorted.
They sat in silence for several minutes as Alfons internally calculated how much work time they would lose and Edward grumbled about German absurdity.
Finally, Edward stood up. "Well, since we're trapped here for eight hours, I'm going back home. At least there's food there."
Alfons looked at him with narrowed eyes. "And what about Oberth? He specifically requested our presence!"
Edward shrugged. "I'll send a message via the telegraph. 'Train missed. Will be late. Blame German time obsession.'"
As they walked slowly back to their apartment, Alfons found himself reconsidering perhaps adjusting his morning schedule to include a small buffer for Edward's more relaxed approach to time management. Perhaps just a five-minute buffer. Or ten. Definitely not more than fifteen though, that would be excessive.