i dont own FMA. not at all.

so this is crack-ish, so please, dont read it if u dont like.

Everyone is realllllly bloody ooc in this sorry. Yeah.

The Day Riza Hawkeye Lost her Mind

Riza was tired, oh so very very tired. All she wanted to do was crawl back into her warm soft bed and maybe get some real sleep unlike she had last night. As her mind wandered back to the lovely nest of sheets and blankets that awaited her at home ( which was probably now being invaded by Hayate) her eyelids dropped and she began to wander through her conscious. It added to the already extraordinarily disheveled look that graced her bedraggled visage. Large bags smeared themselves under her eyes, her hair sticking out at odd angles not in its usually pristine condition. There was simply something wrong with the first lieutenant. And it was most definitely NOT for the reason that the four rather perverted men she worked with seemed to think. She was NOT hung over (well… that hung over). And there was most definitely NOT a male in her bed. Hayate totally didn't count, he was a dog!

"… lieutenant? Riza? Helllllooooooo?" Riza's attention snapped back to the situation at hand, the rather large stack of paperwork on her desk, her pen which had fallen to the floor, and the eight rather inquisitive eyes now settled on her. Oh god, this is totally not what she needed today!

"What?" She snapped not looking up from her papers. She honestly didn't remember who had been calling her, so she didn't know who to address. Today was going to be murder. She wanted her guns. Bad.

"Way to bite their heads of Sleepy Jean…" It was Roy, of course, mocking his underling. He seemed to take great pleasure in making those who worked under him feel inferior. Maybe it was his god complex…

"So, Riiiiiiiiiza, whachya been up to lately?" Breda leaned on his hand sneering at her while she squirmed under his gaze. He was obviously insinuating nasty things about Hawkeye's sleeping habits but she was too exhausted to notice… or to come up with an appropriate comeback.

"Shove it Breda!" She snarled at him, literally lifting one side of her lip in a feral and angry sneer to rival his. Usually they didn't receive such a rise from the imperturbable woman, and the small victory encouraged the men to continue with their 'game'.

"Awwww don't be so hard on him, Ri-ri" jeered Fuery using one of her lesser known childhood nicknames which Mustang had been kind enough to share during one night of drunken debauchery… not that any of them remembered much else from that night… "he's just having some fun!" He lifted himself up to sit on the table, no longer interested in his work and Mustang didn't seem particularly inclined to argue either. He was having too much fun watching the woman whom he had always wished he could piss off, be in fact pissed off. Hawkeye rolled her eyes. Men were just too predictable! She thought.

"Yeah, fun, right…" Riza mumbled attempting to satisfy their odd craving for her emotional upset.

"Mhm, you would know something about fun right?" Havoc intoned, gesticulating lazily in the air, possibly suggesting something rather disgusting, or possibly tracing the loose outline of a duck.

"Please, let's get some work done shall we?" She gestured to her papers which she promptly began to scribble on furiously. There was a chuckle from the far end of the office where Mustang's desk resided.

"Aw, lieutenant, why don't you simply answer their questions, they'd leave you alone after that." The man didn't even look up from his papers when he shot the comment at Riza. That was the final straw, being mocked by her equals was one thing, but when a lifelong friend and superior officer decides its ok? That was another. She had had it up to there with all their derision and blatant disrespect of her rank, and even for her as a person.

"Thank you Mustang, for your much appreciated advice. However I think it might be more beneficial to us to hear of your midnight exploits due to the fact that there are many many more, and I'm sure that you have far more interesting stories that would be informative for the awkward bumpkins who are asking me these questions." She glared at Mustang who was now giving her a rather shocked look. She stood. She wasn't near done yet. "And furthermore, I would request that if you're going to be vulgar and act like grade school-ers, you all start to look for another lieutenant, because I may just have to take up the offer of being promoted up to and possibly beyond your rank, Roy. Thanks for the fun guys, but I think I'm going to go home and try to not kill anyone on the way. If I do, I will simply blame it on you, and plead insanity. I'm sure the jury will agree." With that she picked up her coat, pushed back her chair and promptly stormed out of the office, leaving a bunch of chastised and slightly more than terrified men in her wake.

"Roy?" Fuery's voice cracked a little.

"Yeah?" The usually eloquent Roy Mustang seemed to be at a loss for words. He even ignored that one of his underlings (not Hawkeye) had used his first name!

"We're screwed aren't we?" Fuery asked quietly. All Mustang could do was nod.


The next morning dawned bright and early with a wondrously clear sky and a beautiful warming sunshine. The birds were singing, the flowers blooming and all in all things seemed like nothing could possibly be going wrong to the happy outsider. However there was one oddity that no one missed. Every member of Roy Mustang's office crew was at work on time if not early, even Roy himself. They seemed skittish and frightened, odd for the high powered and well respected group of men. Havoc didn't even have his customary wasting-time-before-work cigarette.

Riza on the other hand, trotted in at her normal time, looking tired, but not violent, much to the crews surprise and delight.

"M-m-m-m… morning Lieutenant!" Fuery stuttered. He raised a shaking hand in a salute.

"Hello, Fuery, Havoc, Breada, Mustang." She nodded to each man in turn, saluting when she came to Mustang and continued with her morning as if everything were normal. The men were needless to say stunned. Yesterday she had bitten their heads off like no other mother, insulting each and every one of them. Today she was normal Riza, if not, dare they think it, downright nice.

"Alright, well, there is a significant amount of paper work to get through so let's get going." Mustang had been thrown for a loop by her attitude switches and returned to his paperwork for once without complaint. She was just too happy!


It was lunchtime. Usually the entire office was empty an hour before they were supposed to leave, but today the dutifully stayed in their chairs until the clock struck noon.

"Well, I'll be at the shooting range if anyone wants me!" Hawkeye announced grinning a little bit. Wait, DID HAWKEYE JUST SMILE? Mustang thought. Something was up and he was determined to find out what. He looked up in time to realize that she was just about to leave. He walked to the set of double doors and caught the swinging one just before it shut. Riza was already going down towards the ranges, and Mustang decided to drop by the café before dealing with her. He let the door bang shut behind him. It seemed to create an exceptionally loud bang that day, but maybe it was just Roy's imagination…

Riza was shooting more rapidly than usual today, Roy noticed, indicating that she was not quite as fine as she seemed. Another indicator was the fact that if the human-shaped target were in fact human, one would no longer be able to tell if they were male or female. He gulped. He couldn't help but imagine himself strung up being massacred by the angry woman. He approached her anyway.

"Riza…" He poked her shoulder causing her to whirl around, bringing the gun with her. Immediately she lowered it.

"Roy. What are you doing here?" She had an almost incredulous look on her face…

"I came to check on you. Are you all right? We may have overstepped our bound yesterday." His voice was very quiet as it always was when he was truly apologetic for something.

"I'm fine! Really!" The funny part was, she actually seems fine! Mustang thought. "Well, I was angry yesterday, but, haha, I exacted my revenge and now I'm positively cheerful!" Oh that was good, she was feeling bett.. Roy paled… REVENGE?!?!?

"Riza, what are you talking about revenge?" She gave a feral grin.

"Well, I put dye on Fuery's glasses cleaner, weakened Breda's chair, put explosives in Havoc's cigarettes and fixed the door so it locks from the outside when you release the latch on the way out." She gave him another grin.

Not so surprisingly at that moment, three very annoyed male specimen were attempting to break down the office door, as all other methods of opening had failed, they were left with using a battering ram on the confounded contraption. One of them, Fuery, wore glasses that were distinctly tinted pink. When he had attempted to clean then earlier, as he always does when he gets up from his chair to go to lunch, he had found that where ever he rubbed turned a neon pink. There was apparently dye on his cleaning cloth. Upon this revelation he had burned the cloth and tried to fix the damage. He only succeeded in spreading the dye. His glasses were now entirely pink. Another of the men had ash all over his face, and was without his usual accessory. The man in question, Havoc, who was always smoking, had no cigarette in his mouth. The last four he had tried all blew up in his face as soon as he lit them. Breda on the other hand had nothing wrong with him, besides a healthy blush. The proof of Hawkeye's handy work came with a pile of wood scrap on the floor where his chair had been. When Hawkeye had left, she had kicked his chair lightly, snapping the last support beam. It had quivered until the door slammed where it had given out, plopping the unsuspecting Breda into a pile of splinters, but only wounding his pride. It had not taken them long to realize what had happened, and then to deduce by their lack of luck turning the door knob, that she had also locked them in.

Back at the shooting range, Hawkeye stopped smiling. "Wait. The door locking was supposed to be your punishment… being locked in their all night with a group of embarrassed and angry men… but you weren't there…" Hawkeye chewed her lip as Mustang began to back up, producing a large anime sweat drop. Hawkeye sighed. "Well then, I guess you escaped my wrath… so this'll have to do!" With that she hoisted the rifle she was firing up to her shoulder taking aim at her commanding officer. Roy paled significantly and began to shake.

"Riza, please, come on, don't… don't shoot me!" He squeaked as she locked the gun and squinted.

"If you don't wanna end up like swiss cheese, I suggest you run, Sparky!" She too had an embarrassing childhood nickname to drag up. And with this, Mustang decided it was a good time to start running for his life. And it was.

About an hour later, a panting Mustang had been cornered by a still smiling Hawkeye. She delivered one final shot, a little too close to his manhood for comfort, and then unlocked her gun, and put it away. Mustang, who looked a lot like a Betty Spaghetti, and felt a lot like jelly, shot her a confused look.

"Where are you going?" His voice cracked before he cleared it, and regained a minimal amount of composure.

"The doctors." She answered, sniffling in an endearing manner.

"Why?" Mustang finally peeled himself off the wall.

"I'm sick dumbass!" She slapped him upside the head, causing him to flinch. "Why do you think I've been so out of it lately?" She gave a final flip of her hair and walked from the building. Needless to say, Mustang spent the rest of the day banging his head against the wall in the corner muttering something to himself that sounded mysteriously like 'wow we're ducking glass moles'.


haha! yay!

i will give cookies to anyone who can tell me where the ducking glass moles refrence is from! ;)

reviews are loveddddd!!!! :D

- im out -