Title: In Sickness And In Health.
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist.
Characters: Mustang, Hawkeye.
Notes: Ah, finally something to relax a bit. Promp by Mara.
In Sickness And In Health.
Roy Mustang had a cold, one that came from behind the gate to bite him in the ass and make him miserable. He had a cold... and the most frightening bedside companion. Ever.
"Stop sulking at me," Hawkeye intoned patiently, arching an eyebrow at him, "Sir."
"This is the most aggravating situation I have managed to land myself in," Seeing the glint in her eyes that told otherwise, he added hastily, "Havoc's birthday party doesn't count."
"And why, pray tell, does it not?" Arching an eyebrow, the blonde looked amusedly at her commanding officer.
"Because I wasn't sober enough to remember it," Came the grudging reply. Mustang sulked.
"But I was, enough to deal with the mess," Hawkeye pressed the plate of soup in front of him and scowled, "As per usual."
Grimacing as he took the soup, Mustang said no more, and Hawkeye left the building. A few hours later, a stack of paper was dropped into his lap, startling him awake. Blinking owlishly, he focused on the face of a serious looking Hawkeye and scowled.
"Oh, surely, sir, you haven't forgotten what work looks like?" Damn the woman and her risen eyebrow.
"That's not-" Roy glared at her, "I'm sick! I'm not supposed to be working now."
"Really," And damn her stupid flat tone.
"Yes! I'm dying here!" Roy waved his hands in the air, as if to demonstrate his point.
"Due all respect sir, you can hold a pen? You can sign forms." Hawkeye gave him a vicious looking smile. A nasty one, too, one that said the gun in her belt was loaded.
"But... but..." Roy Mustang was sick... and close to start whining.
"Your own fault too, for not scheduling this." Waving a dismissing hand, the blonde woman arched an eyebrow at her superior, scowling a bit herself.
"Oh, so now I should have schedruled a cold?" Incredulous tone aside, Mustang made an amusing face as he sniffed disdainfully.
"Yes," Riza smiled condescendingly at him, "Falman does."
Roy stared at her for a long moment, before sighing in defeat. There were things, he had come to understand, that he would have to deal with, in sickness and in health.
He just wished paperwork was not one of them.