Disclaimer: FMA is not mine, oh woeful day.



"Wait a second, boss," Havok grinned over the top of a cigarette, scanning the paper he held in his hand. "Just what do you mean 'I'd like to see you collared and chained'?"

Ed looked up from his slouched perch on a nearby stool. "I meant," he snapped, "that if Mustang calls me a dog of the military one more time, there will be bad things."

Havok gave a low whistle, and Ed raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "What?"

"Nothing, chief. Though I'd rephrase it if I were you."


"No reason." An absent look, as he rolled his smoke from one corner of his mouth to the other. "Hey, Fury! Edward wants to get it on with the Colonel!"

Passing by, Fury spewed coffee over a stack of reports. In the office Ed jumped, let out a loud, outraged squeak, and clapped a hand so hard over Havok's mouth as to make him swallow the cigarette. Oh; there would be vengeance.

"Where in the hell did you get that?"

Havok mumbled something, dribbling damp ash and spit over metal fingers and Ed pulled his hand away, glaring.

Deadpan: "I said," he smiled, belaying his tone, "you wrote you'd like to see the Colonel gagged and tied to a bed."

Ed exploded.


And it is hard, very hard, to tower when you are five feet three inches tall, but Ed managed. Havok took a moment to wonder where he got the accompanying backdrop of flames, but then decided it wasn't important. The boss was an alchemist, after all.

"Fury?" Sneaking down and away to the other end of the hall, Fury winced. He'd been so close to the door, so close. He could measure it with his eyes; two inches, maybe. He wondered if it was too late to run.

"FURY!" Edward's voice bellowed in succession.

And Fury just knew turning back would be a bad idea.

Tossing the ruined reports in the trash, the Sergeant Major had to wonder why he never listened to his intuition.


Farman was ferrying a stack of papers past the office doors when the hand reached out and grabbed him. A metal fist forced a paper in front of his face and then another one plucked it up and away.

"Here," nodded Havok, a new cigarette – not yet lit – dangling from his lips.

Farman blinked. "What is it?"

"A love letter" said Fury as Havok stated, "bondage note", and Ed howled, "Official complaint!"

Farman blinked again.

"Let me see… "Dear Mustang" …."

He paused. Blinked a third time. "It's….to the Colonel?"

Havok cackled; Ed was a nice kid. He really was. Havok liked Ed. But Ed had made him swallow his cigarette, which – besides involving an uncomfortable process – had also been his second to last. He took a long, dry pull on the final one carefully; it would have to last him the rest of the day, thanks to Edward. Oh yes. He liked Ed. But there were other things to consider. Like how to make him suffer.

Cain merely nodded while Ed squirmed, his face turning a blazing bright red mostly caused by anger. He snarled, "It's meant as an objection!"

"Objection to –" Havok was cut off.

Farman's eyes were still on the paper. "…Dear?"

"It's how you begin letters!"

Havok just whistled as he held a flailing, yowling mass of red coat away from his fellow official. "It's how you begin loveletters."


"What's not how you begin love letters?" Hughes tilted his head and grinned, stepping into the room. "Ah, love. I remember my first one to Gracia." Gush, sparkle, and glowing pink hearts. "There has never been a more perfect woman. Here, I have pictures; she and Alicia in the garden. See?" A grin, and kissing sounds, as Hughes reached for his wallet. "Aren't they angels? Oh, see? See? There they are with the flower, and then again with the other flower, and then the flower at a different angle." He passed the collection around, commenting on each with a beaming, moonstruck smile. Practically melted as he waved one beneath Ed's nose – Alicia biting off the head of what looked to be a daisy. "So, Edward? Who's the lucky lady? Surely, she cannot be as talented or beautiful or lovely or smart or divine as my Gracia, but if you write your letter right, perhaps you too can know the slice of heaven which comes from –"

"Having sex with the Colonel?" Havok offered.

Hughes nearly dropped the pictures. Didn't. Still, it was close.


"I said, Ed wants to –"


Well. It wasn't what Hughes was expecting.

"Now boss, you know we don't care about your sexuality…"

Fury gave Farman a comforting touch on the arm. Farman handed the letter to Hughes.

"I AM NOT –"

"… 'Dear Mustang'," Hughes read, and Ed's mouth snapped shut, allowing a glare to wash over the room instead.

"I'm not." Steam was wafting from his ears in great swirling tufts, and the vein on his head was beating out the chorus of Jingle-Bells. "I wasn't even going to give it to him. It was just about letting. Off. Stress," he screeched out the last between clenched teeth. Havok patted him on the shoulder.

"That's okay, boss. We still love you. But not in that way. You'll have to ask the Colonel about that."

When Hawkeye walked in, Ed was still working on gnawing his arm off.


Riza Hawkeye heard the shouts two hallways down, knew one to be Edward, and headed off immediately. She had experienced first hand the destruction an unsupervised and enraged Elric could create and knew also she'd much rather stop the devastation before it began than fix it up afterwards. When she reached the small office, it seemed most of the Colonel's personal staff had already been crammed in. She had to push past Fury to fire her warning shot, and then stood a moment, registering the expressions on various features. Havok appeared just a little put out, Fury attentive, Farman a touch relieved. His face, however, had nothing on Ed's, which seemed to melt in pure joy at the sight of her. Hughes was reading a paper, and didn't even bother to look up. She fired again. He did.

"What's going on?"

Five mouths opened, and the group was collectively silent.

"I wrote…" Ed finally began, incredulous indignation creeping into his voice.

"A thing," supplied Havok.

Riza raised an eyebrow, prompted, "About?"

"Stuff." Farman nodded hastily.

"And things," Fury mentioned.

"Havok already said that," put in Hughes. He offered up a picture, "Isn't Alicia a darling?"

Hawkeye fingered her gun. "Should I get the Colonel?"

That got a reaction; the entire room surged forward in an overwhelming cry of NO.

Hawkeye smiled. Hughes handed her the paper. She took it with a nod, cleared her throat, and read.

" 'Dear Mustang,'" pause. " 'It has come to my attention that you are a greedy, smug, highly ungrateful bastard. Therefore, on behalf of your staff, I would like to suggest the following…'" And Riza read, voice a perfect monotone, changing only slightly on very few, choice lines.

"…'And if you do, I'll kill you.'" Hawkeye paused about halfway through, looking up.

"What is it?" Ed fidgeted in his seat.

It came with a small sense of wonder, almost motherly.

"You're writing a love letter, Edward."

People could hear Ed's howl at the other side of the building.


Colonel Roy Mustang was just stepping out for coffee when he heard the sound; a thunderous bellow that cracked a little on the last note. It was Fullmetal – at that decibel, had to be Fullmetal – and Roy wondered just what it was this time. For a moment he felt almost strange not knowing, because infuriating Ed was something he did and, while it wasn't hard, he took smug satisfaction in the fact that he was one of the best. No matter; Hawkeye could handle it, he'd just go, have his caffeine, and get back to work.

"…not in love…!"

Or not.


"Look, Ed," Fury was saying, "It's really not so bad."

"It's not at all." Ed had fallen off his stool somewhere in the course of things, and now sat slumped on the ground beside it, arms thrown over its seat. When no one responded, simply stared at him in accepting tolerance he growled, "It's not. Look. I didn't mean it as anything, and I don't know where you're getting any of this but I swear I do not, nor have ever, desired to…to…" He trailed off, eyes widening and tongue tripping over itself as it registered the figure silhouetting the hall.

In the doorway, Roy smirked. "Desired to what, Fullmetal?"

Five faces took on guilty rose tinges, and Ed turned a sickly green-white. Eventually, Farman dared a hesitant salute, spoke first,

"I…um. I. Have papers. Which. Need to be delivered." He flashed them all a too-wide false grin and grabbed Fury. "Come on Cain. We have to get the reports to the one place. With the stuff. Because. You know. The people." Nodded to Roy on his way out, and took off running, dragging his coworker behind him.

Roy let them go because the room was too crowded as it was, and it's easier to get information out of a smaller group than a larger one.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye?"

"Sir?" She almost hesitated, and that was enough to make him wonder.

"What's going on?"

Somewhere near the back, Havok cleared his throat. "Sir…"

And Ed jumped up, knocked down the stool, and took to looming again, teeth gnashing, eyes darkening, and screaming in a voice Roy could already hear going hoarse.

"Don't you dare! I don't. I DON'T! It's not! I AM NOT!"

"Not what, Fullmetal?"

Ed glared at him, and Roy watched in a sort of removed amusement as the pallor was slowly replaced by a creeping crimson color. Hawkeye was holding a piece of paper; he grabbed it, eyes never leaving Fullmetal's.

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

Dear Mustang…

He had a pretty good idea where it was going.

"Lieutenant, Hughes, Havok; would you give me a moment with Fullmetal?"

They did, Havok closing the door and mouthing, "Good luck, boss" after them. A vein on Ed's temple ticked. Roy smirked, not entirely sure what to say.

"It's a complaint," Ed snapped harshly, eyes flashing.

Roy knew.

"Yes, it is."

Ed gaped. "You don't…don't think…?"

"Don't think what, Fullmetal?"

Clicked his mouth shut.

"Think it's…."


Ed sighed in perfect respite. Even managed a, "Nothing, Colonel…. Can I go?"

"Of course." Ed ambled to the door with the stunned-happy ease of a man removed from death row. He reached the door, and Roy couldn't help himself.

"Ridiculous notion."

Ed's hand froze over the doorknob, and he couldn't quite keep from asking,


Roy felt his smirk deepen as he gave Ed a meaningful look; eyes slowly sweeping him head to foot. Didn't really answer, but drawled in a way that let them both know what he was talking about.

"You're far too short."

And that was it for Edward Elric. That was it and someone died and died now. He'd screamed, he'd threatened, he'd made one (semi-successful) attempt at physical harm and it had all come to naught. Was there nothing to be done?

Roy was ready for anything.

Ed kissed him, and he was even ready for that. Not completely, no, but was prepared just enough that he didn't do something stupid. Didn't let Ed pull him down (too far), push him back against the desk (too much), and only kissed back, sliding his tongue into Fullmetal's mouth (cracked lips and wet heat) simply to prove that this was just another thing he could do better. Really. Was expecting it enough that when Ed pulled (violent, clumsy, flooded with a spark of something that tasted like alchemy but wasn't) back he could merely hang up his smirk, a little off-center, and comment,

"Still short."

And Ed might have growled, but Mustang's hair was all mussed from where he had held him at a more reasonable height, Mustang's breath was slightly faster than it should be, and Mustang's chin had a little wet spot that shone – most unprofessionally – when caught by the light.

"Not enough." He grinned. "Watch your back, Mustang."

Walked out.

It was the closest Ed had come to winning all day.


A/N: Not my best. But it was fun to write, which is all that really matters. On a side note, I've never seen Fury, Farman, or Havok in an actual episode, so their personalities were all rather sketchy. Pheer? Reviews are lufferly.