"Romance novels?"
Havoc cranes his head around Hawkeye's shoulder, deciphering that the pink-bound book he'd glimpsed atop her papers that morning was, indeed, of the heaving-breasts-and-burning-loins variety.
"You?"
Hawkeye tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and crosses her legs at the knees, settling her book on her lap. She looks at him through her eyelashes, brows raised.
"Something wrong, Lieutenant?" she asks.
It sounds like a challenge. It looks like a challenge. And it's one challenge Havoc isn't particularly eager to press his luck with.
"She's still a woman, Jean," Mustang drawls from the doorway, and both sets of eyes snap up to meet their superior officer. "Sometimes women like that sort of thing."
Havoc rolls his eyes and grins the grin of a man who's just escaped a bullet in the ass. "Well, gee, Boss, that's news to me."
Mustang appreciates the sarcasm, smiling out of the corner of his mouth, but a sharp look from Hawkeye sends Havoc back to his desk muttering something about leave request forms needing filing.
The colonel leans against the wall beside her desk, peering at the couple on the pink-edged cover. "That's a new one."
"It's actually rather good." The First Lieutenant runs her finger down the page, finding her place without looking up. "It's very imaginative, as romance novels go."
"That good, eh?"
"I could lend it to you, sir." The corner of her mouth twitches. "I'm sure those girlfriends you're never quite able to hold onto would appreciate it."
The colonel twists his lips out of a smile, feigning authority. "Why, Hawkeye, do I detect a hint of insubordination?"
"Oh, no, sir," she glances up from the book, completely deadpan. "Just speaking from observation."
"You wound me, Lieutenant," Mustang laughs and claps her on the shoulder, striding back into his office. Hawkeye stares down, unseeing, at her book, and smiles.
