Disclaimer: I do not own the rights for FMA. This is a fan fiction. Nothing more, nothing less.
Prologue
"General Mustang! How pleasant to finally see you!"
"Fuhrer Grumman," Mustang replied with a strict nod. "I was wondering when I would have the pleasure of seeing you again."
"Well, aren't you polite as always," Grumman said, a smile grazed his lips as they shook hands. "I think you know what this is about, don't you General. Please follow me inside so we can discuss the matter over a cup of tea."
"Yes sir," the reply came in a perhaps unnecessary stern tone as the two men walked into the drawing room where tea had already been served in silver cups.
"Now then," the Fuhrer said as he closed the door after his subordinate. "This is a highly secretive matter, would you mind giving us some privacy Mandy dear?"
The maid quickly exited the room with a curt nod.
"Haven't you gotten stiff," Mustang joked as he sat.
"Well, being a Fuhrer forces you to take on a certain role," he explained in a tired exhalation.
"Am I here on official business then?" Roy asked.
"Straightforward as usual, Mustang" the old man commented. "Let me be equally straightforward and tell you that you are here because I am considering filing a transfer of one of your subordinates."
"What's the occasion?" Mustang asked quietly as he slowly sipped his Earl Grey.
"Nothing really, nothing official at least. Just the request of a concerned grandfather."
"A concerned grandfather? So you want Breda then?"
"Always a joker," Grumman stated grimly. "No, I have called you here so I would be able to be as frank as possible without any eavesdroppers. I may be old but I am not dumb. I have this far accepted your and my granddaughter's professional and, well, unprofessional relationship, and I do like you General might I add, no… it's not that. The fact is, as I am sure you are well aware of, the Lieutenant is turning thirty this following month."
The younger man looked down as if considering something before sipping his tea yet again.
"I see," he said in a surprisingly dry but steady voice. "You want her to get married."
Grumman laughed. "Yes, in matter of fact I do, and to be frank again, I want great-grandchildren before I hit the bucket. I think we both know that Riza wants kids too, even if she never would admit it."
"Sir," Mustang said when the Fuhrer stopped talking. "How does this concern me?"
"Mustang, you see, though my granddaughter almost never calls me," he sighed, "As I said, I know very well about your relationship with miss Hawkeye from my talks with 1st Lt. Rebecca Catalina and I have gotten the impression that you might be holding her back in the search of a husband."
"I am sorry you feel that way" Mustang said in his usual nonchalant manner. "And may I add that miss Hawkeye and myself are colleagues and friends. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Haha, that's your opinion and, yes, I have to agree since I too know about the law very well," Grumman said, "and I have tried to change it… but it is almost as if it was written in stone."
"Yes," Mustang said seriously, his eyes tracing the portraits of her ancestors that hung on the walls. "I know you really have tried," he admitted, "and I thank you for that."
"You know, I am not only considering her feelings in this matter," Grumman sighed. "Maybe you too would be better off not being around when the inevitable happens. That is the reason for me calling you out here."
"And are you planning on informing the Lieutenant about this meeting and the issue discussed?"
"No, I think you should do the honor as her direct superior."
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you fear her."
"Think what you want, but may I advise you of telling her when she is unarmed. The transfer would be to West and take place the month after her birthday."
"I see."
"So, now that you have been informed, how about a game of chess for old times sake?"