Slight AU(?) or rather just edited the time line to suit my fancy. After reading Incendiary Relations by GreyLiliy, I was mused to write this comical story, I guess also inspired by a particular episode of FMA –which I didn't watch until after I popped out my first 3 chapters. Reviews and any constructive criticisms are welcome! 4-23-09


Order. Discipline. Unity. Power.

The pristine sharp folds of his uniform, the undeniable shimmer of brass and boot shine were testament to his lifestyle. He was a man of control and organization, power reigned in beneath his taught smile, and despite his superior skills in Lieutenant Colonel Office Jockey Frank Archer. Efficient, critical, ambitious and always right on time like a precision instrument that could execute any action given.

That was until fate brought him a great challenge that one day.

Déjà vu.

Archer snapped the folder shut and tucked the pen away in its rightful place before standing up from his desk to take the files next door. Had he known better, he would have questioned why it had been difficult to roll the chair back under the desk, but at the time it was something he could attend to later. A dysfunctional chair was the least of his worries when heading the Intelligence of the military.

"Lieutenant Colonel!" Saluted the sergeant, jumping to his feet and saluting with a click of heels.

"At ease, I just thought I'd return the forms for you asked me to review. Everything looks in order." What a fast worker indeed.

"Thank you, sir!" Unexpectedly, the solider cautiously reached out to his superior and dared to pull something from the lower sleeve of uniform. The death glare he received pounded him into the floor.

"Excuse me?" Archer inquired, his voice threateningly low. No one touched him without a reason, and sure as hell did anyone mock his habits.

"Oh I, I'm s-s-sorry sir! Th-there was just something hanging off there. I didn't think you-" His voice squeaked, dying off to stop himself from making a bigger blunder.

Like a machine, Archer apprehended the soldier's arm by the wrist, bringing it to his face to see what was so god damn important to do such a thing in the first place. His upper lip twitched in very expressive annoyance, his steel glare focused on the small culprit that inflicted deformity upon his blue coat. As if he were disgusted, he took the think strand from the bound hand of the servant, looking it over as if it were an infestive pest and let go of his arm. Not for a single moment did either man relax.

"Good luck with your investigation sergeant." Was all Archer could manage as he prowled out the door, transfixed on this interesting piece of evidence.

He would get to the bottom of this.