A/N: I really shouldn't be venturing into more fics than I can chew, but it's ROYAI. This is like, my first ever OTP and my love for it has been rekindled. I can't NOT.
The only thing is, I don't really know what this is. I was tossing the idea around for a little while, and then even had a semi workable plot on the way, then I drew a picture and had to caption it and the caption mushroomed into this. This thing. It's out of control. I don't know what's happening, but review if you wanna come along for the ride!
This will probably be a bunch of sequential shorts. Because I'm noncommittal like that.
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Join Me for a Coffee Break?
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Dr. Roy Mustang groans and shoves a pile of papers halfway across the break room table. Running a hand over his face tiredly, he mumbles, "If I have to read one more idiotic essay on the concentrations of acid-base solutions I might just burn all their tests."
A laugh travels across the room. Mr. Havoc, the 9th and 10th grade history teacher, has his feet propped up on another chair as he lounges, hands behind his head. "Well, if you didn't want to grade them, why assign them?"
"But they're all wrong! I haven't gotten a good essay yet! One kid even drew cats as his answer!" The weary chemistry and physics teacher slumps in the hard plastic lounge chair.
"Was it Alphonse? He doodles those on his homework sometimes," Ms. Hawkeye says as she walks into the lounge, catching the last part of Mustang's complaint and smirking.
Immediately, all the male population of the break room sits up and feigns attentiveness on their work. The English and Language Arts teacher is sharp, dedicated, and drop dead gorgeous. Every single guy on staff and faculty has been desperate to put on a good front and win her attention. It's almost laughable.
Mustang, however, has maintained his defeated and slouched position in his seat. "Yes, it was. Were yours fluffy and cute? He's really gotten into the fluffy ones recently."
"Fluffy, yes. Cute? Well, I'm more of a dog person myself, I admit," Hawkeye says as she flits through Mustang's chemistry tests to find the offending paper. In the process, she glances at a few answers from other students. "Hm, I'm not a science guru, but this looks a little pathetic." She raises one slender eyebrow at Mustang. "Typo on page five, Doctor."
"What?! No way," he scrambles to find the mistake, and sure enough, he left out a comma.
"What do you do during class time?" She wonders aloud. She finally comes across Al's cat essay and sighs.
Mustang throws up his hands in exasperation. "I teach! It's not my fault the kids don't learn anything!"
"Actually, Roy, that's incorrect. If the students haven't learned, the teacher hasn't taught," the economics and upperclassmen history teacher Mr. Falman calls from his position at the school's dinosaur desktop computer in the corner.
"Alright, Confucius, you can have my classes then," Roy rolls his eyes and stands up. "I'm getting coffee before I end up incinerating these tests accidentally. Care to join me for a coffee break, Miss Hawkeye?" He asks congenially.
After fixing him with what Breda has dubbed her Level 3 Withering Glare, probably because he's procrastinating, she softens just a tad and Roy can swear he sees her lip twitch into an almost-smile. "Actually, I could really use the caffeine."
With a triumphant smirk tossed over his shoulder, Dr. Mustang follows Miss Hawkeye outside the teachers' lounge.
"But keep that up, sir, and I'll tell Alphonse how much you love his chemistry essays."
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A/N: So I don't really care for this one a ton, but it was an accident anyway. It's my prototype. Now on to bigger and greater adventures! Can the suave science guy woo the Grammar Nazi? Will Mustang's students ever pass? Why does Falman use Windows Vista? Can Al overcome his love of cats to pay attention in chemistry? Find out next time, in our next episode of The Teachers' Lounge!
