(I haven’t stopped writing CatCF : BaBB, but I have placed it on hold for a while.)

These are a series of One-Shots (I cannot write drabbles, they are too short for me). I don’t want to post all of them separately so, I have decided to post them as one big Fan Fiction. I highly doubt any of these will have RoyxEd, EdxRoy or any other Slash paring… but if you somehow translate what I wrote as Slash… I guess I can’t stop you.

I’m using these as practice on how to begin a novel that I want to write for NaNoWriMo (Look it up and join!), and since I’m all obsessed with Fullmetal, a series of One-Shots would be nice to do. Plus, I’d be able to space out updates, because all of the stories would end and there would be no evil cliffhangers.

What? No EdxRoy or RoyxEd. Possibly Parental!Roy if you squint. Based on the Anime or the Manga. I’m not trying to be too specific.

Warning: This may (and this does not mean it does) contain non-intentional or intentional spoilers for the Anime series. Read at your own risk. If you do not like spoilers, watch the Anime and the Movie then come back.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist… Yadda Yadda Yadda… So, don’t sue me and all that Jazz. Savvy?

Summery – Is there a reason behind Edward animosity towards short jokes? (Other than the fact that he really is short.) And what happens when Edward finally snaps? But this time, it’s completely different…Shortness

Shortness

Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist was indeed short. It was an obvious thing, something noticed upon first meeting the teenager, something emphasized against his metallic brother, something that Edward was plagued with ever since his growing seemed to have slowed. It didn’t help to be compared to his nearly seven foot tall brother, Alphonse.

Edward certainly had what most called a ‘short-complex’, and he always seemed to have one part of his brain on the lookout for anything that even slightly implied that he was below average. If he ever detected a possible breach of his height security, whether intended or not, he seemed to blow the entire thing out of proportion and make more of an idiot of himself than the original comment (or implication) was supposed to make.

Most of the military, and anyone else who knew him, enjoyed making slight comments against Edward’s height, to provoke him. His reactions were beyond entertaining and were definitely much more creative than anything they could have possibly thought up. With him slightly hunched over, teeth clenched, fists as well, and looking like a deranged bull trying to keep himself from impaling the offending person. Never once had he physically managed to ‘impale’ the offenders, he only served entertainment.

Never once had they stopped to think of why he acted that way. Sure, during the first or second outburst they witness from the small teen then stare at him in shock, or horror in some cases, wondering ‘what that kid’s problem was’ and that they never said that he ‘was too small to reach the cupboard even with a ladder’. But after so many, the questions leave their mind and they continue their daily lives without another thought. Never once even thinking about why he acted that way.

They held up their hands, defending themselves, saying why they didn’t mean it like that. But not asking why he reacted like that.

Of course, everyone knows how the saying goes, “It was the straw that broke the Camel’s back.”

Edward Elric leaned back on a chair in the room where all of Colonel Mustang’s subordinates seemed to conjugate. His arms were crossed angrily, his cheeks were red from the blood that had only moment’s before flooded inside his face, and his eyebrows were furrowed, glaring at the offending person that sat innocently across the room.

“Geeze Ed,” Hughes said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, but he spoke in a dismissive matter. “I never said that. You know, I really think you should listen to what we say more. I didn’t say that you ‘were so small that a speck a dust could crush you’, I merely said that you are the perfect height for my little Elicia to hug!” Mae’s words were at first serious, but drifted off to lovey-dovey land as soon as the mere thought of his daughter had entered his head.

Hughes lent forward holding a picture of a very distraught looking Edward with Elicia’s arms wrapped around his waist. “I mean, look. Don’t you see how adorable that is? Doesn’t it make you wish you were even shorter so you could do the same?”

Edward growled. “WHO ARE YOU CALLING A MIDGET, HALF-PINT, PINT-SIZED, DWARF, PIPSQUEAK, BEAN SPROUT?” He spat the words venomously glaring at Maes deeper than before. If he were a teakettle, steam would have been spewing from his ears. Hughes had been the fifth person that day to imply that he was ‘undersized’.

‘Spoil sport,’ Maes muttered under his breath, then he sighed, shoving the picture back into his breast pocket that he kept all of his other Elicia related photos. “Not me Edward… I didn’t say that.”

“Good.”

Hughes looked at Edward for another moment, shaking his head; over the fact that Edward didn’t want to be shorter for his daughter’s sake, rather than the outburst. Maes scooted off the top of the table.

“Well, see’ya later Edward. I got loads of work to do, and if I don’t do it, Riza will kill me!” He gave Edward his signature smile, waving before shutting the door behind him in a swirl of military blue.

That’s the sixth time! Edward shook his head and was about to push all thoughts of his height deficiency out of his head, when Havoc came bursting through the door.

“Oh, boss! I’ve been looking for you.” Jean walked over to where Edward was, leaning his hands on the table. “You see, I was wondering if you could help me with something…”

Edward cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

Havoc rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “There’s this girl…”

Of all the things that Jean could possibly ask the Fullmetal for help, and he was asking about a girl? Since when did Havoc care about what Edward’s opinions on girls were? Wasn’t Edward one of the few males of his age that somehow managed to not have a girlfriend?

“And?”

“… I like her …” Okay, seriously weird; Havoc wasn’t joking around with him, he was asking him for his advice!

“So?”

Havoc swallowed, he pulled at his collar as if he was anticipating something horrible, maybe death.

“… But she’s taller than me and – “

“- And…” Edward pressed, possibly knowing where the question was going to…

“I was wondering what you would do if you like someone taller than you? I mean, since most girls are taller than you.” Havoc said very quickly, both hoping that Edward understood, and at the same time, didn’t.

Seven. Seven in two hours! What are they planning this?

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT WOMEN WOULD RATHER BABY-SIT THAN EVER DATE?”

Havoc put up his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean that, sir, I meant – “

Edward was standing, his fits in tight balls. He managed to somehow loom over the taller man in radiating anger. “What exactly did you mean?” his voice seething with the demand for an intelligent answer or something really bad was going to happen.

Havoc swallowed and tried again, “I was just wondering –“

Before Havoc could continue, and it most likely was a good thing, Riza came through the door, holding a stack of papers. She gave Havoc a harsh glare, which silenced him, and made him promptly rush back to the work that he was supposed to be doing rather than bothering Ed.

She then turned her attention to Edward; Edward gulped, all rage towards Jean drained, he knew that look.

“Edward,” she began, approaching him. “I would highly suggest that you refrain from yelling so loudly. You’re distracting people from their work.” She then proceeded to plop the entire stack of papers into Edward’s arms.

“Since it seems that you have nothing better to do. Please take these papers to Colonel Mustang. He needs to sign them.”

Edward numbly nodded and walked out of the room with the papers in hand. It was a wonder that he didn’t have any bullet wounds. He thanked her in one respect, he wouldn’t have to explain to Havoc that he wasn’t small… an argument that Edward always seemed to loose.

Why didn’t anyone understand? Weren’t his outrageous outbursts a big enough sign that he didn’t want people to bother him about it? He tried being subtle, he’d tried asking nicely, he tried beating their heads in with blunt-pointy things, but nothing worked. Nothing he tried got them off the subject that his was only 4”11 and that he most likely stopped growing.

Edward sighed. He supposed that it was a loosing battle, to be forever short and have people bother him about it. He hoped that Havoc would be the last of the people that day that would try to remind Edward of his obvious deficiently, but there was just one more straw left…

Edward pushed open the door to Mustang’s office, not bothering to knock, holding the stack of papers in one arm so he could maneuver with the door better.

“Hey, Colonel, I’ve got some paperwork for you.”

Mustang looked up tiredly from the stack of paper that he was already working on, and watched Edward as he approached the table and slapped the new stack down.

“Riza will kill you if you don’t finish these today.” Poor man, Edward almost felt sorry for the Colonel. He was a state alchemist that seemed to be tied to an eternity of doing paperwork after paperwork after paperwork. Mustang should go out and do things more, at least in Edward’s opinion, before he rotted away from lack of fun things to do once and awhile.

But a glint arose in Mustang’s eyes that spoke that Mustang was having fun, or was about to…

“Ah,” he started casually, as he always did when someone came in, “I didn’t see you there Fullmetal, the stack of paper work was obscuring you from view.” Then the look on the Colonel’s face was one of expectance as he waited for Edward’s signature outbursts. He was waiting for entertainment. “You know, with you being so small and all…”

Edward boiled inside, his face went hot and his hands clenched. That’s it. That’s just, damn, -it-. I can’t take this anymore.

“I came here to give you god-damned papers not to receive insults,” Edward’s voice was dangerously low. “Why can’t you people just give the short jokes and insults a rest? I’ve already tried to get you to stop but you won’t god damn listen!” He wasn’t aware of the hot tears that began to well in his eyes.

Mustang’s amusement quickly left his face and it twisted to one of concern.

“How do you think I feel when all of you make your ‘witty’ remarks? Hmn? Do you think I burst out like that because I enjoy it, because I want to entertain you? What the hell do you want? You want me to emit it or something? Fine. I’m short. I’m only bloody 4”11 and I don’t think I’m going to be any taller!” Edward was sounding more agonized as he continued and the tears began falling freely down his face.

Mustang looked at Edward, frozen.

Edward’s knuckles turned white and he stood perfectly straight, tears still rolling down red cheeks. “Have a nice day, sir.”

Mustang stood up, mouth open to say something, but Edward turned and all but dashed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Mustang slumped back into his chair, running a gloved hand through his hair.

He murmured, “It was the straw that broke the camels back. No matter how much he tried to tell his friends that he couldn’t carry any more, his foolish friends never listened…”

- End -

I’ve had days like that… where you just can’t take anymore then you inexplicably cry and you really don’t know why. Yeah… happens to me once an awhile…

Haha. This story is a little dorky, I tried to write something moderately serious with some humor thrown in. Ah well… I dunno if I managed it at all. I Also apologize if there are any mistakes. I tried going over it thousands of times…

Comment if you want.

Next Story : Edward's first word. Sometimes the single word of a child can be worth one thousand pages of a book.

(No flames. Mustang will just make them into big explosions, which will fire back at you, or he will toast marshmallows and we will eat them…)