Title: Dreams Never Come True
Summary: Fuhrer decides to throw a masquerade for the military! Riza is determined to prove her feminine-ness to Roy by then. And Roy's team is determined to stop Roy from attending, or he'll steal the ladies (as usual)! And when Hughes is involved-- UH OH...


CH1: HEARTBURN

What a beautiful morning! The sun was shining, the grass was green, the birds were chirping and the flowers were blossoming-- spring was here. Sadly, the military located in Eastern Headquarters barely took notice of nature's radiance. Two by two and three by three they trailed into the large gray building in their identical uniforms, ready for another long, paper-filled day. But their gloom was broken when they each recieved an extravagantly decorated notice, a lavish notice declaring...

"A masquerade! The perfect place to meet new girls!" Jean Havoc whooped. He tossed the gold trimmed official looking document in the air and jumped on Fuery, his face lighting up in excitement and in aspiration. His cigarette spewed little black ashes on Fuery's blue uniform. "I have a chance! I have a chance!"

"That's only because they won't see your face," Farman grumbled sullenly from his book. He scratched his stubbled chin with the end of his pen. A masquerade? Of all the useless, meaningless activities...

Havoc whipped around, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Uhh..." Too late. Farman had underestimated his colleague's hearing. He slowly edged toward the end of his chair with a nervous chuckle. "I said... Fun are masquerades?"

"Let's not fight!" Fuery squeaked from under Havoc's iron grip. He tried to pull himself away, but to no avail. "If we get badly hurt, we won't be able to go..."

"Won't make a difference," Breda said from under a magazine in a tone of careless despair. He propped his legs on the wooden table and sighed despondently. "If the Colonel goes, all the girls will be all over him."

"All?" Havoc squeaked, loosening his grip on Fuery (who sighed from relief and tiptoed away). He diverted his eyes to the carrot-haired man. "All?"

"Uhuh," Breda raised his eyes from the magazine. "With a snap of his fingers, just like that," he snapped to emphasize, "and no matter how close you were, they're gone. Outta here. In a split second."

"You never know," Fuery said with a note of well-needed hope. He clasped his hands and looked at the ceiling dreamily. "Maybe there's a girl out there, waiting for a sensitive master sargeant who wears black rimmed glasses who knows how to fix things and is an adept radio operator... A cute girl with a brilliant smile that can light up the darkest of nights... A cute girl who knows how to cook lasagna... and will go to the park with me-"

"-No, we know," Farman sighed, cutting Fuery's daydream off before he started drooling, "unless we do something about it."

A loud slam on the table made all of them jump. Breda yelped as his chair tipped back, hung in mid-air for a precious second and then... inevitably fell crashing to the carpeted floor. Three pairs of eyes glared at the culprit- at a goofily grinning Havoc.

"Farman, you're a pure genius. We have to do something about it!"

"Do what? It's not like we can force Mustang to not go..."

"Or... can we?"

"Can we what?" There was a new voice behind Havoc. He gulped at the sound, his eyes widening as large as dinner plates, his mouth hanging open, and his shoulders slightly shaking.

"Ehh... good morning, Colonel..." Farman was the first to recover from the shock. He scratched the back of his head innocently, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

"G'morning. Can we what?" Roy Mustang looked at each of his subordinates from confusion.

"Can... we... uh... have... ...brunch?" Fuery squeaked.

"And force me not to go where?" Mustang counter-asked, blinking in confusion.

"To... the... mess hall?" Breda asked helpfully. Breda felt the Colonel's suspicious eyes boring down on him. He gulped. He didn't do well under pressure. Give him a gun and an enemy, and he'll fight to the death. Hell, he'll use his fists and legs to get the job done if he had to. But peer pressure was not his cup of tea- no, sir.

"Because you have a lot of work to do," Farman saved Breda, and gestured to the high stacks of paperwork on Mustang's desk. Mustang innerly winced. The sight twisted his soul painfully. Ughh...

Mustang sighed in defeat as he made his way to his desk and plopped down on his chair with a heavy 'poomf.' "Fine, have your brunch, but make it fast. And bring me back a cup of OJ and a burrito."

His subordinates blinked at him in shock.

"Sir," Havoc said, "Did you say... orange juice and a burrito?"

"It's brunch, is it not?" Roy said, twirling around his chair while twirling a pen around his gloved fingers. He glanced down at the gold leafed invitation that sat innocently in front of him. ...A masquerade?

"Uh, yes sir," Farman said hurriedly. He dragged an awestruck Havoc out of the room.

"But Farman," Havoc whispered, "OJ and a burrito-- it's a taboo. It'll give him an extraordinary amount of heartburn!"

"He's digging his own grave," Farman answered hoarsely, shaking his head.

"Well, he deserves it for taking all the girls," Fuery sighed.

"Then," Havoc said with a maniacal glint. "This is the perfect time for some revenge."

The other three leaned in covertly, blocking the hallway.

"Instead of one burrito... we get the Colonel two burritos!" Havoc finished triumphantly, a finger raised in the air.

Farman, Fuery, and Breda fell to the ground. Breda groaned intensely.

"I thought it was an acceptable idea," Havoc said with a pout. He crossed his arms childishly. "It's worth a shot."

"What's worth a shot?" A feminine voice echoed behind him. Havoc shrieked and spun around, calming after he saw who it was.

"God, Hawkeye! Don't sneak up on people like that! You and Mustang both--" Havoc clutched his chest, "Trying to give me a heart attack..."

"Maybe you should be more alert," Hawkeye said calmly, shifting the pile of papers from one arm to the other. "You can hardly blame me for walking down the hallway." She glanced at the three. "Aren't you supposed to be in the office?"

"We're grabbing OJ and a burrito for the Colonel," Fuery supplied.

"For breakfast?" Hawkeye raised an eyebrow. "That combination gives intense heartburn."

"I know," Fuery moaned. "But he wanted it..."

Hawkeye sighed. What could she do? The Colonel had to learn from his own mistakes sometimes. "Well, carry on."

A masquerade? Riza read and reread the letter. What was the Fuhrer thinking? The land was still restless and the military had to constantly squash numerous rebellions and dissenters; did they have time and resources to squander on a ball?

"I guess King Bradley wants to have some fun," Roy said with a grin. He had seen the annoyed look on Riza's face while she read the notice. He felt the same way at first. Damn, military events were always a snore- not to mention that they a huge waste of his time. He could be spending that night doing a million other things, like say, go on a million other dates with a million other women... ahem. It wasn't his fault that he was so attractive. He was blessed with many talents. It would be a sin not to put them to use.

"Sir, we don't have to attend, do we?"

"We do," Roy said grimly. "It's mandatory. Unless you have personal clearance from the Fuhrer himself. And..." his eyes quickly skimmed the letter again, "It says we can bring a guest."

Hmm. A guest.

"THAT'S RIGHT!" The door slammed open wildly. "I'm having such a hard time picking who to bring! Gracia or Elysia? Gracia would be more appropriate, right? But I want the military to experience the joy of being in the same room as Elysia! She lightens your heart! Oh, I have a new pictures of her- wanna see? It was her little friend's birthday party--"

"Hello Maes," Roy grumbled. No baby pictures, please, please tell me you left them at home please please please-- "What are you doing here?"

"Official business!" Maes Hughes chirped, adjusting his glasses, "And I decided to pay a visit to my favorite man! And hello, Hawkeye... You haven't met Elysia yet, have you?"

"Uhh, no sir..." Riza blinked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Roy wildly gesturing, though she didn't understand what he was trying to say...

It was as if a bomb exploded.

"HERE YA GO!" A blonde toddler, dressed up in pink ribbons, was shoved immediately into Riza's face. "This is a year ago, and she's on her first tricycle! Ain't she a cutie? And oh, you'd love this one-"

Riza glanced at Roy in a silent and desperate plea for help. He shrugged in response, and mouthed, "It's your fault." Riza shot an angry glare and a promise of death at her superior before she drowned under the roaring sea of Elysia photos. Roy sighed. It was better that Riza suffered than he did.

The door opened again to reveal Fuery, Farman, Havoc and Breda. They glanced in the room suspiciously at having heard Hughes' rapid talking before taking a cautious step in.

"We have your brunch, Colonel. And... hello Lieutenant Colonel..." Farman sweatdropped. He thought he saw a tuft of blonde hair poking out of a large pile of baby pictures, but he must be seeing things. There was no way that someone was buried under that mountain.

"Good job," Roy accepted the OJ and (two) burritos. He began to say more, but was cut off by his best friend.

"You know what I realized? None of you have seen Elysia! You poor men... join the First Lieutenant in her adoration of my daughter!"

Farman's eyes widened. So there was someone under that hill of a father's obsessive love for his child. On cue, Riza popped her head out of the pile, her eyes swirling. She twitched, having been completely overwhelmed by the Elysias. Farman choked. With a look of absolute desperation, Hawkeye mouthed, "Save me!"

"Maes, my men have to get to work," Roy intervened for his subordinates' sake as he munched down on his second burrito. "Maybe you can uh... comebacklater?"

"Aww, fine," Maes sighed. He patted Breda on the shoulder. "I'm sorry you can't really enjoy the pictures right now. I'll give you a private showcase later."

"Uh, th-thanks," Breda blinked and slowly shied away. Maes gave Breda and Fuery the job of cleaning up and organizing the pictures. Riza took her place at the table- they had a lot of paperwork to complete, and they were already behind schedule. She sighed, glancing at Roy, who was finishing off his brunch. Someone had to get things done around here. Maes settled himself cross-legged on Roy's desk.

"So who are you inviting to the masquerade?" Maes asked, clasping his hands. Riza's grip on her pencil tensed.

"I met a girl," Roy said quietly. "She's my type. Maybe things'll work out."

"Finally! What's her name?"

"Jenna. She works in a bar."

"Jenna?" The shrill ring of the phone disturbed Maes' thoughts. Jenna... who works in a bar... sounded awfully familiar...

"Colonel Mustang," Roy picked up the phone. A woman's high-pitched voice squealed from it. You could hear her from miles away. Breda and Fuery glanced up from their task, looked at Roy, looked at each other, shrugged, and went back to work.

"Royyyy!"

"Hi, Jenna."

Maes winced. The voice was ear-splitting. And it was... JENNA! Maes blinked. He remembered her, that slut! She worked in a bar! She flirted with high ranking military men even if they were engaged... he growled, remembering the times Jenna tried to bring him away from dear Gracia; how he hated her guts. It was almost the end of his and Gracia's relationship, due to Jenna. An involuntary growl rose from Maes' throat. And now, Jenna was tying her long and greedy fingers around Roy's throat. He had to put a stop to this.

"Royy... we must go out again! We had so much fun last night..."

"I'm at work..."

"Oh, you can take off some time for your love, can't you?"

Maes winced again as there was a loud crack behind him, followed by the small thump of something hitting his backside. Maes turned around to see Hawkeye's broken pencil. She had pressed too hard on it. She looked up at Maes impassively and curtly said, "Sorry, sir."

But Maes was sharp. And he didn't miss the flash of fire in the Second Lieutenant's calm eyes. He glanced back at Roy, who was still talking to Jenna. He glanced at the composed Hawkeye. He glanced at the nib that had hit him and was now innocently littering the floor.

Hmm.

Maybe there was something he could do.

But there was one thing for sure: Jenna was not Roy's "type." Maes wondered who planted that disgusting idea in the colonel's head. He shook his head. Jenna, Jenna. She had worked so hard to ruin his life. He wasn't about to let her conquer his best friend.

"Yeah, I know Jenna," Maes said innocently after Roy hung up the phone.

"You do? How?"

"She tried to separate me and Gracia."

"I'm sure it was a mistake," Roy carelessly waved his hand, "She's sweet. And not a bad looker."

"And deceptive," Maes continued darkly, "I'm serious about this- completely serious. And you know that's not normal for me. I'm just watching out for you."

Roy sighed. He hated being treated like a child. He glared in annoyance at Maes and said testily, "Thanks, but I'm fully capable of taking care of myself. Besides... you know me. I'm never serious about a girl."

"Suit yourself," Maes disguised his inner turmoil with a casual tone. Inside, the wheels of his mind had already started turning, forming a devious and foolproof (not really) plan. He may not know many things, but one thing was for sure:

Roy Mustang. Needed. A. Wife. He had to settle down. He was twenty-eight! It was time to get serious.

Maes uncrossed his legs and leapt off the desk. "Hey, are you guys all finished cleaning up the pictures? I hope you didn't steal any... though I wouldn't blame you for wanting to keep a piece of my lovely baby!"

"Ugh..."

"Sir!" Hawkeye jumped from her chair and ran to her superior, concern etched over her features.

Maes turned around in time to see a pale Roy gasp, clutch his chest, and roll off his high backed chair. "Roy!"

Havoc grinned evilly.

Roy winced and looked up, barely able to spit out one word: "...Heart...burn..."

Hawkeye sighed and shook her head. "Sir, you should never eat burritos and orange juice for breakfast. I'll go get medicine."

"It... hurts..."

"You'll live."


A/N: I have no idea if OJ and burritos in the morning give you heartburn. ...Does it? Sounds like it! I hope you enjoyed...