Sniper: Hey, it's me again. This "story" was co-written by me and my good friend (Asdf) whom is crying at my flattery over my shoulder. Please excuse any OOC-ness, this was basically just a whim.
SORRY! I realized that there were some things that needed to be edited, so I redid it (yes, I'm that much of a perfectionist).
Asdf: Your flattery is much appreciated cheesy smile
Sniper: No problem. Now, on to the evilness!
Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. If I did, Roy would blow more stuff up.
When 2nd Lieutenant Havoc had said the words "Halloween Party" the immediate reaction was shock, shortly followed by large grins all around Central HQ. When Edward Elric heard about this little "get together", he immediately went to his CO's office.
"Mustang! I challenge you!" Ed cried after bursting through the office wall.
"What are you talking about, shrimp?"
There was a small twitch to Ed's eye, but he ranted on-
"What?" The Colonel was incredulous.
"What do you mean, "what"? You not man enough or something?" he taunted, stressing "man" in the sentence. Now Mustang was getting irritated, gaining a twitch of his own.
"Fullmetal, what is going through that petite brain of yours?"
"Simple, Colonel Bastard. I get your costume, you get mine," Ed said with an evil little smirk that rivaled Roy's. Ed had thought this through long and hard and had even gotten advice from an anonymous source. There was no way this plan could go wrong; it was perfect, no, beyond perfect. Roy got kicks at Ed's expense on a daily basis, the least Ed could do was humiliate him.
"Fine," was the quick and to the point response.
"Just one more thing," Ed smirked, reminiscent of Envy's trademark, "You're not allowed to look at the costume until you have to put it on."
Ed's grin could have creeped out Barry the Chopper.
"Are you sure this is going to work?"
"No worries, Lieutenant. He won't even be able to hear the word "miniskirt" for the next twenty years."
The party was is full swing by the time Edward got through the door that night. A few of the people he knew smirked when they saw his costume. As had been expected, Roy had played off of Ed's height… or lack thereof.
The shrimp costume was, needless to say, abhorrently pink and extremely uncomfortable. Ed got chafed in places he never thought he could get chafed and the piece that fit around Ed's head was uncomfortably heavy.
Fury was dressed as a dog suspiciously reminiscent of Black Hayate. Falman was a dentist, which was rather odd, seeing as no one associated him with dentistry. Breda was dressed as a taco, with several leaves of lettuce poking random people. Hughes was dressed as Sherlock Holmes. Havoc seemed to be dressed as a chef and Sheska (A/N: I don't know how to spell it. Sorry) was a magician. Along with those were a smattering of other people dressed from hairdressers to geeks. It was a menagerie of colour ranging from one end of the spectrum to the other. That was so even as Riza walked through the door. It was Havoc who first noticed her.
"H-Hawkeye! I never thought that I'd see you in Mustang's idea of a uniform!" he stuttered. There was Hawkeye in all of her irritated glory, in her uniform… with a miniskirt. Havoc blushed a deep red.
"Shut up, Lieutenant," came a disturbingly familiar baritone voice from underneath all the makeup. Havoc's blush instantly disappeared, and his face drained of all colour.
All eyes turned towards the happenings by the door. Several people choked on their cocktails, resulting in the Heimlich maneuver being preformed on the several unfortunate people who had swallowed the little umbrellas or an olive. It was then that Riza chose to walk in, dressed as a photographer, complete with a cardboard camera.
"C-Colonel!" she said, completely surprised to see a copycat of herself in the Colonel's infamous uniform. Little did anyone know that her surprise was feigned.
When Ed saw his prey, he smirked broadly. And when the Colonel spotted Ed, he raised his hand, flipping him a one-fingered salute before quickly changing it into his traditional snapping position. Riza quickly grasped his wrist, spun him around and pretended to take a picture. Hughes stepped up to the Colonel and, looking down, smirked and said-
"Geez, Roy, you've got a girl's legs."
Roy's scowl soon switched victims.
"Hey, he's right," was Breda's quick agreement.
"What did you do? Wax them?" Falman piped up. Roy's scowl soon turned into a violent twitch as people started to gather around his legs. Ed's satisfied smirk only added fuel to the proverbial fire. Riza bent down and pretended to take a snapshot of his legs. Somehow, by the mercy of some God, he made it through the evening with much twitching, snickering on Ed's part, shin kicking on Roy's part and imaginary-picture-taking on Riza's.
"Who would have thought that Roy was a shin kicker," Havoc mumbled as he rubbed his sore leg.
It wasn't until around 3:00 that the party split up, with many catcalls directed towards the tormented Colonel. Surprisingly enough, Riza accompanied Ed and Al home, stealing a last look at the Colonel while hiding a smirk behind her hand.
"Brother, are you sure this is a good idea?" Al asked, sounding worried.
"Of course it is! I finally get my revenge on Mustang for all his gods-cursed short jokes-"
"And he never passes that miniskirt bill," Riza interjected, smirking. Ed hadn't thought she knew how to smirk. Al shuddered.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side… either of you," Al mumbled, backing away slightly. Riza smiled.
"Now all I have to do is send these negatives in for developing," she said, taking the cardboard casing off of the camera. Both she and Ed shared one last smirk before she left for the night. When she had gone, Al turned back to his brother. If he had been human, a worried look would have been plastered on his face.
"Brother, where is she sending those negatives?"
Ed smirked evilly, "You'll see tomorrow."
When Colonel Roy Mustang walked into the office the next day, subordinates who had once respected him were trying to suppress smirks. Whispering broke out every once in a while, followed by quick glances over at him. The only one who had some semblance of pity was Hawkeye.
"What the hell is going on?"
"I don't know, sir. Why don't you read your newspaper. That usually takes your mind off of things for awhile."
Roy looked a little suspicious. Hawkeye wasn't usually the one to try to distract him. If anything, she usually had him at gunpoint to do his work. Still suspicious, he took the newspaper from Hawkeye's hands. Unrolling it, he glanced at the front page…
By the time the fire fighters had cleared away most of the debris, Roy had calmed down slightly. However, when a firefighter asked him whether he was the man on the front of the newspaper, he was twitching again and he raised an ungloved hand in traditional firing position. However, Hawkeye had managed to relieve him of his gloves before he caused any more damage. He cursed eloquently like the soldier he was and most of the firemen paled.
A small burnt piece of paper slowly floated to the ground. It bore two pictures of Roy in juxtaposition. One picture featured him in his traditional army garb, the other of his getup the night before. The headline read:
What kind of people run our country?
The story of the cross-dressing colonel