Roy's New Secretary…

By claudius

Chapter 1: Miss Chase

I own none of this cast. Roy, Riza, and Armstrong are the creation of Himoru Arakawa. Cordelia is the creation of Joss Whedon.

A new visitor came to the halls of Central Command this afternoon. She could not be ignored, with her possession of nimble legs, slender form, long brown hair, sparkling beauty, and toothy smile. Every officer that happened to be a man could hardly look away or stay concentrated to other things besides her presence. And every officer that happened to be a woman froze with a hot jealousy at her presence.

"Excuse me, boys," this woman coyly confronted a group of officers. "Care to tell me where Mr. Mustang's office is?"

Every male officer immediately pointed left, each bearing the hope that this lady may need an escort. Indeed, they spoke such an invitation, in perfect synchronization.

"Oh, would you?" She smiled, not picking among the group. They all led her to the office of Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang.

This Lieutenant Colonel right now stood alone in the office. He noticed how spacious it looked. Once it was full of subordinates. On that chair Breda loafed around eating his potato chips (as if he himself was so innocent, Roy commented with a guilty smile). At the opposite side Havoc raised his legs onto the table (That image was carried with a sad rue). At one head of the table, Feury wrote his report with a mixture of determination and nervousness. And Hawkeye made hers in confidence. Now this room lay empty, bereft of its inhabitants. Bradley saw to that.

As Roy strode around the room, his cruel stare saw imaginary people. The Fuhrer, Raven. Men he once respected, icons of the military he followed all these years. And all that loyalty for who? For what? A corrupt circle of monsters both human and not. How blind he had been, Roy cringed. For years he, Riza, and Hughes gave the leaders their service, destroying souls and a thousand lives in the process. They were thanked with betrayal. And Hughes paid the ultimate price. And now he, the man who once thought he could succeed Bradley, was a pawn to a company of monsters.

Black Irony filled his lips. Was there ever a time when he wasn't a pawn? He could now see the lack of control from the moment he joined the army. To his present mind, the Ishval Massacre gained a diabolical theme to its already horrible reality. The subsequent years of thinking he was making progress was a lie. How quickly his confidence was destroyed in a matter of minutes! His plan to blackmail Bradley had blown up on his face. He threw his best hand, only to find out how impotent it truly was against the real enemy. But then again, how could it have succeeded? He ignored the fact that the Fuhrer's identity would definitely mean the government had knowledge of it. Stupid, stupid, stupid Roy, he called himself. Hughes, if he were still alive, would have vetoed his blackmail scheme at first mention. To come so far, and to ruin it blind arrogance. For someone who was trying to attain the Fuhrership, Roy was a work in progress. And how many more people will die before he reaches perfection?

Still, he was alive. That must count for something. And he was still a Lieutenant Colonel, though his influence now became very limited. Bradley's play was devastating. Suddenly all of his most trusted allies were transferred away to distant parts of the country. And his most important, Lieutenant Riza Hakweye had become Bradley's secretary. One wrong move…

Roy noted sweat on his face. He was losing his objectivity again. Don't give up yet. Too early for the Homunculus to call checkmate. There were still soldiers outside of Central; soldiers beyond the government's corrupt influence…

But despite this hope, the Flame Alchemist still felt the growing burden. The wounds of these months had made their effect on his determination. What was the point of such diligence anymore? Why not explode and let the entire room burn! That was his thought, boosted by the anger inside him. That emotion had been tapped many times. When new lands were targeted for war. Whenever he saw Elysia Hughes. Whenever he received a phone call that turned out not to be from him. When that bitch Lust joked about killing Hughes herself. What was the use of bottling it all up? He had swallowed enough bullshit from this place. He couldn't take anymore. He felt ready to rage. Ready to cry. No one was around to care. Comfort and consolation were tonics Roy had long refused. But as long as the potential existed in the sight of his subordinates, he remained strong. And now that was gone. First Hughes…

Roy thrust a pile of papers off the desk.

The door opened. "Hello?"

Roy may have shown his dark demeanor to this stranger, but he suddenly composed himself. He stood straight and cordial before this visitor.

"Seems to me like somebody's having a melodramatic moment." The woman made her entering comment. At Roy's first look, the woman appeared to be Mrs. Gracia Hughes. A boost of cruel emotion came, quickly shelved. For a better look saw this person to be different. She was younger and much prettier. Her lack of uniform lessened the possible importance of her appearance. "And how can I help you?"

"You are Mr. Mustang?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Mustang." Roy gave the correction.

The woman smirked with no military salute. "My name is Cordelia Chase. I've heard you are looking for a secretary."

Roy narrowed his eyes, taking the question with cynicism. He was not set on getting anyone else to this mad play. Why add another hostage to the Fuhrer, or worse a casualty? Or why risk giving trust to another minion of the Homunculus? This woman's presence fueled the latter consideration. "I'm afraid you have been deceived."

"Whatever," The woman ignored this refusal, as if by experience. "I need this job for my resume. I have references," the woman took out a folder. "One from somebody named Maes Hughes." She said knowingly.

The name of the Homunculus' first victim since this war started struck Roy's antagonism. Cool in person, the man quickly snatched the folder like an engine in exhaust.

"Ouch!" The woman cried, waving her finger. "You could have given me a paper cut from your bad day."

Roy coldly studied the recommendation. If this paper be a fake, then he would have more to hate these murdering devils! But the writing was in Maes' style and tone. Just do it, Roy, was written at the end, in the familiar handwriting. Roy coldly looked at the woman. "It looks solid."

"And you had doubt that it wasn't?" Cordelia snapped with an authority bellying her present position. "Thanks…"

Roy looked at the woman, deciding to play along. "Very well. Have you any experience in the military?"

"No."

Did not think so, Roy thought in judgment of her clothes. "Any experience in battle?"

"Yes."

Roy noted her sincerity in that reply. This served to strengthen his study (partially helped by her sex appeal). "Hand in hand combat?"

"Yes."

Doesn't look like it, Roy disdained to himself. "Education?"

The woman kept a deadpan face. "I…graduated from school."

The discretion founded in that answer was enough. "We shall look to your office abilities. I am a very demanding boss. How fast is your typing?"

Cordelia grinned. "Not good."

"Answering the phone?"

She made a toothy grin. "Good on that."

Roy made a sigh to himself. "What else can you do?"

Cordelia described her abilities with a chipper flow. "Oh, the usual. File, Research…The art of kicking demon ass."

That last remark left Roy silent with an ambiguous thought. Is this woman stupid…or is Bradley just pulling the leash? Some gravity was added to his voice. "Miss…"

"Cordelia Chase."

Roy arose. "Miss Chase, I believe I can handle my responsibilities on my own."

Cordelia was condescending. "Like you've handled things this last week?"

Roy raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry," The new recruit continued on with a smug authority, "But if I knew my president was a demon, that would get me thinking that maybe the entire government was in on it. So, telling the other higher-ups would be the last thing I'd do."

Roy's look hardened to a glare. The mention of that stupid act, coupled by this woman's audacity, made his tact harder to keep. "So you know?" He aggressively asked.

"Yep, which is why I'm here." Cordelia opened her beautiful smile. "I'm looking after you, Roy Mustang. Some people from above are rather worried about you. Now that your groupies are gone- once again, thanks to you!- the Powers That Be felt you need some help. At least from somebody who's had a little experience in this field! You can't find a better offer."

Roy stared at this woman's impudence. Who does she think she is? But at least she was being honest. Perhaps he can use this to his advantage. "You can start today."

"Goodie!" Cordelia clapped her hands. "Oh by the way, can I have an advance on my salary?"

"You haven't worked yet!"

"Details…"

Roy decided to give Cordelia a tour of Central Command. This served to give him a better study of this woman. One point he found, besides her beauty, was her proud taste. "Blue, blue…" she spoke boorishly. "Is the dress code always like this?"

"Yes." Roy was quick and short to answer.

Cordelia didn't hide her distaste. "Geez, well ugh to that! Would you see me in such a spinster suit?" She presented herself, getting a lot of attraction.

Even Roy was struck, despite his good poker face. "Why not mini-skirts?"

"Yeah!" She snapped with excitement. Roy's heart felt a lift from her shared idea.

"Anything for me is better than that Plain Jane over there!" Cordelia pointed to an example. Roy looked and received a greater pause. For the person in question was Lieutenant Hawkeye. What was she doing here? No doubt serving some errand by that monster Bradley. The lightness ended as suddenly as it appeared.

"Earth to Roy!"

Roy abruptly responded to Cordelia's call. "I think we should leave." He turned around, expecting his secretary to follow. Indeed, Cordelia too reversed her steps. And who should be in their way but Major Armstrong!

Cordelia stilled at his stature, sizing him up.

"Mrs. Hughes." Armstrong kissed the girl's hand. "Always a pleasure."

"Thanks, except for the Mrs. Hughes part."

"This is Cordelia Chase. My…secretary." Roy corrected. "Miss Chase, this is Major Alex Armstrong."

"A thousand pardons, Milady." Armstrong then went into a series of poses.

"Sure, Xander," Cordelia was gracious.

Xander? Roy repeated the nickname in his mind.

"Boy, you're rather big," Cordelia spoke her mind. "By the way, can you tell me something?"

"Anything Milady," Armstrong nodded.

Cordelia was wide eyed and honest. "Are you gay?"

The world of the two Alchemists completely stopped. "You are mistaken," Armstrong spoke first with a chuckle. "I…I am the most moral character."

"It's okay. I don't subscribe to the lifestyle, but I'm not against it."

"But I am not…"

Suddenly Cordelia leapt to Armstrong's mouth. Roy could only watch. The woman really put all her powers into it, and Armstrong looked shocked, and strangely cool. Then the release was made. Nothing changed.

"Knew it," Cordelia gave a soft tap to Armstrong's cheek. She stood triumphant. And then she touched Roy's lips with her own. What the hell? That was his thought, before the fire of his shock suddenly burned to a different way, with sudden reciprocation. At least for a minute. Then he quickly rebuffed the woman. "Stop that!"

Cordelia had her own interest, facing Armstrong again. "See? That's the right response any straight guy- like Roy here- would give."

Roy furrowed his brow to this nonsense. Or was it? Come to think about it, he never recalled Alex dating anyone, and his fascination of the human physique…

Oh what the hell was he thinking? Roy broke free from this disturbing curiosity…

And then he heard Cordelia's continuing accusation. "I bet you have fantasies of Hughes and Roy frolicking nude in a garden."

Entrapped again, Roy stared straight at the very nervous Armstrong, who was very silent. Say something! What fortunately freed him from a very disturbing realization was the rather unfortunate sight of someone watching. Riza…

The Lieutenant betrayed some concern. Did she see that kiss? The Flame Alchemist did his best to compose toward such an awkward situation. It did not help matters when Hawkeye walked over to them. "Good afternoon, Colonel."

Cordelia was more direct and defiant. "And who are you?"

"Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye." Her greeting cold, with eyes as potent as the gun in her holster. And Cordelia matched glare with glare.

"Oh," Cordelia nodded. "Your ex…secretary." She played her words carefully. "Well, Bradley sure cleaned up the trash in Roy's office."

"Roy?" The Lieutenant replied; the intimate use of that name, rather than the insult, the true strike.

"Lieutenant Colonel, Miss Chase," Roy corrected with his own maintenance of anger. Control yourself. He looked to see Armstrong suddenly missing.

Riza's eyes made a calculated study of the woman. "That skirt is a little too short for you."

"I like your clothes too," Cordelia grinned. "It definitely brings out your manliness."

And Roy's strong hand tightly pressed Cordelia's arm. "We must not keep the Lieutenant from her work," he coldly commanded, pulling the girl with her. This bad start was becoming worse.

Still Cordelia kept talking. "I once had a haircut like hers. Then again, at the time my body and mind was being hijacked by an evil higher being, so I can't be held responsible. What's Buffy's excuse?"

"Buffy?"

"Y'know…Erizabeth…Bethy…Buffy!" Cordelia acted like such confusion was unexpected. "Or, since she's using the R, Ruffy?"

Roy instinctively avoided the strangeness of these words. "I'd hold your tongue. I wouldn't get in the way of Lieutenant Hawkeye. She is an expert in firearms."

"Yeah, like that's really going to work on demons," Cordelia's sarcasm further strengthened Roy's worries. "She better pack a missile launcher."

"Missile launcher?" Roy repeated that strange word.

"Forget it."

"Do you always speak your mind?"

"Always."

Roy's misgivings increased.

And then the secretary got to work, under Roy's watch. The work assigned to many, now handled by two. Incredibly, Cordelia seemed very efficient, the typewriter clicking to the tempo of a rainstorm. That's what Roy recorded in his vigil. He also noted her long brown hair, smooth skin, and breasts, much to admire…until she got the phone.

"Hello? This is the office of Roy 'bottom bitch to bottom bitch' Mustang."

Then came another call. "Hello, this is Colonel Mustang's office. If your last name is Hughes, get out of the country."

Then another. "Hello, Colonel Mustang's office. Wish to use his round head for a globe?"

No matter how quick Roy grabbed the phone, or scowled at her, his secretary managed to get her word through. How she could say these things…and his head wasn't round.

Things like that hardened his distrust of her. But a wrong move could go back to Bradley. What a twisted irony: Mistreat your secretary and Bradley will respond in kind. So all Roy can do is hide his feelings and keep her occupied, like burying her with paperwork. (Miss Chase certainly bitched about that). Besides, it would also be beneficial to learn the Homunculus' plans through this underling, provided he treaded carefully. "So how did you come to know Colonel Hughes?"

"Oh, I have my connections."

I'm sure you have, Roy smoldered his anger. He wasn't altogether certain if her credentials were accurate, or a sick joke.

"He talked a lot about you."

"Do you know how he died?" Roy aggressively waited for the wrong slip of word.

"Yes." She didn't quite sound sad. Roy decided to have his play.

"The persons responsible must pay."

"Got that right. So…when are you going to do that?"

Roy's eyebrows lifted.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard about your little fight with Slut." She made a swift disregarding whisper. "One thing you have to say about demons: When they die, they clean up after themselves."

Trying to win my trust? Roy defended against it.

"You see, I've seen my fill of monster combustion. There was this vampire who fell on a piece of wood and then disintegrated into a skeleton in front of my eyes."

"Vampire?" Roy was uncertain of that term.

But Cordelia controlled the conversation. "Then there was this demon we fed a tank of nitrogen to. Smash!" She grinned. "And there was the time we fought this creepy guy who came apart."

"We?" Roy noted that slip of the word.

Unfortunately, Cordelia was not undaunted by this supposed mistake. She stood tall. "My friends." She took out her wallet, and revealed a picture of a man. "This is Doyle. Nice guy," she finally betrayed some emotion. "He loved me, but he was afraid I'd judge him for being a half-demon."

The word surprised Roy, adding to the spark. He sniffed.

"He was so wrong. I found out and still liked him. And then he died soon after," Cordelia admitted with a transfixed look. "But he left me something."

"Let me guess? Syphilis?"

Cordelia bounced back. "Maes Hughes sure left you zilch!"

Roy could not respond with silence. "Maybe you should find better pals, ones who aren't freaks."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Demons killed my wife-beating pedophile best friend!"

Roy arose, hit by that insult to Hughes. "So your true colors are revealed."

"More like you transferring your boot to the other foot? Now you know exactly how I feel when you insult my friend Doyle, not to mention my other demon friends. For all their scaly skin, weird-looking eyes, and blood diets, even the least kickass of them are the one thing you definitely aren't."

"Human?" Roy smiled.

"Heroes."

Roy's smile became a weight that could plunge through the underground of Central. "Less talk. More work." He strode away.

"Hit the nerve, didn't I?" Cordelia took the advance.

Roy made a turn without breaking his stride. "Less talk, Miss Chase!" In truth, his morale was snapping. Too many blows in one week…

"Is this what you do everyday, stand here like a big loser? What Hughes saw in you, I'll never know. Certainly would have lived a lot longer without being pals with Mr. Death Magnet!"

Roy's tact dropped as Cordelia performed a dark caricature: "This is you: 'Maes Hughes, I need your help! Great! Now let me seal your help with a contract!'" She grabbed some paper and read it in her view. "Let me see…Oh, here's a Death warrant. That'll do…warranty five years…" Then she grabbed a pen and signed it. "RRRoooy Muuustang."

The climax was made. Roy's rage found its release in a cruel whisper. "You're fired!!!"

The woman went silent in a stop. Her face drained of life, as if foreseeing some horrible thought. It gave Roy some joy.

"Roy!"

"Colonel!"

She grew impatient, her worry suddenly targeted on a different matter. "Colonel. Do you know of any buildings that has a sign of a lion?"

Midpoint of anger, Roy stared confused at this change of mood. "A sign? What are you talking about?"

"A sign of a Lion!"

Roy was silent.

Cordelia raised her voice. "Is there a place with the sign of a Lion?"

Still glaring, Roy played along. "There's a bar called The Lion's Mane."

"Great! Where is it?"

Again Roy was not quick to answer.

"Spit it out!" Cordelia shouted. "It's a matter of life and death!"

Roy's face hardly moved. "Down at Clarendon Street and East 5th."

Cordelia quickly ran to the door. "We gotta do something!" Speaking in more earnest than she had the last few hours.

"We?"

"Roy, some girl is about to be violently assaulted."

Inside, Roy was dumbfounded. Was this some trick or sudden madness?

"Fine! Forget it!" Cordelia gave up, looking to a sabre on the wall. "Can I borrow this?"

"No," Roy snapped. Cordelia went on her way.

Alone again. Roy would have breathed in relief, if not for this uncertainty. What was this all about? She was crazy. He should just leave the office and go home. But that girl's about-face touched his curiosity. What if she was telling the truth?

As soon as Cordelia took a cab, Roy followed her by car. Was this some rendezvous with her connection? Or were her questions legitimate? His ignorance had caused much grief; His certainty about Cordelia must be absolute.

He spotted her figure run out the cab, with the driver cry out for his pay. Roy stopped a street before her point of departure. He got out and ran to the alley of his pursuit. He heard a woman's scream. The owner of such a shriek ran out of the alley, completely terrified. She looked disheveled, her clothes torn. Roy froze to the horrible action. A bang of trashcans followed.

He entered the darkness, and saw Cordelia fighting two men. One lay on the floor unconscious. His companion was about to join him, judging by Cordelia's fighting skills. She was quick and capable in self-defense, not breaking a sweat. Quite a difference from the vapid girl of earlier. The mathematics of this meaning formed in his mind: Cordelia had helped that woman. He hasn't seen any underlings do that.

But Cordelia should have noted her fallen opponent beginning to rise again, brandishing a knife. Roy wore his gloves and snapped his fingers. The trash can near the man exploded into flame. Nothing else was harmed. Then Roy presented himself.

"The Flame Alchemist!" cried one of the assailants. The recognition sent him running the opposite direction.

"Where do you think you're going?" Cordelia tripped the man. That was it. The fight had finished. Roy came closer. The heroine faced him. "I was handling this."

Roy smirked.

A short time later, authorities arrived to take the assailants away. Cordelia took over the report. She and Roy were walking around, when suddenly they heard a scream. "Colonel Mustang could not stand to see an innocent suffer!" Cordelia proclaimed. Roy was silent. The authorities bought it, and took the men away.

"So some justice exists in this place," the girl remarked.

Roy ignored that remark. "And may I know why you came here?"

"I'm starving," Cordelia avoided the issue. "Got a place to eat?"

Roy took his former secretary inside The Lion's Mane. After she ate a sandwich, Cordelia got to the point. "I was saving a life. That girl was going to be raped and killed."

"But how did you know?"

The reply was ambiguous. "I just knew."

"You knew," Roy repeated.

"I have premonitions."

"Premonitions?" Roy repeated.

"Am I talking to myself here? The Powers That Be give me visions of people in trouble."

Roy shook his head. "And you expect me to believe that?"

Cordelia retaliated. "Let me see: Alchemy, Homunculus, a moving tin-man, you throwing fire…Yeah!"

Roy sighed to this twisted logic. "Are you trying to tell me this is true?"

"You're gonna have to believe it. That's why I'm here."

"Ah yes," Roy was condescending. "The Powers That Be…"

"What…Oh…I get it. You think I'm working for Bradley! As usual, awareness to the obvious is not your strong point, Roy."

Roy ignored that insult. "So you aren't against me?"

"Oh sorry for deflating your smug intelligence, but if I was working for the big bad, why would I bother saving that woman?"

Roy's intelligence did not ignore that logic.

"Believe me: I'm from the right side."

This was a lot to consider. Roy wondered about the absolute sincerity. This was not a time to put trust on strangers. "Well," with an uneasy demeanor, "whatever your story, I might as well take you to your home."

"Yes…" Cordelia was equally uneasy, making a forced chuckle. "About that…I'm right now living-impaired. Which brings me to the question: Can I stay with you?"

"What?" Roy was deadpan.

"Hey, I did you a favor just now."

"How?"

"You took out that creep, thus saving that girl...granted, you had a lot of help from me. But I was nice and gave you the full credit. Tell me, have you done anything good lately..."

Roy was about to speak.

"That didn't involve roasting somebody?"

The words came blocked from Roy's opened mouth.

Cordelia responded with serious expectation. "Like it or not, Roy, you're supposed to be the hero. And a hero's got to do good things. And that hasn't happened for you in a while. Were you going to wait until you become Fuhrer for that to happen? See! That plan went nowhere!"

"I will still become Fuhrer."

"But not by doing nothing. Remember what they say: Evil rules when good men do nothing."

Roy looked away at her courage to list his flaws. But he came to understanding. Cordelia's frequent assaults, for all its scathing points, did carry some truths (except for the shape of her head).

"I give you my visions, we save lives. You need me to help you. You got no one right now. It's me or it's solo. And you haven't done well by your lonesome."

Still, Roy wasn't completely convinced. "Even so, you could be in danger from this death magnet."

"Been there. Done that. Not caring."

That got some confusion, which was saying something. Understanding Alchemaic theories was easier than understanding this woman!

"Besides, Roy," she patted his hand. "I will be under your protection."

On a normal day, Roy would outfight such nonsense. But tonight, he surrendered. At least she wasn't a Homunculus…"Sure…"

Cordelia lit up with glee. "Goodie! You can have the couch."

Roy rolled his eyes. "I take it you want me to pay."

"You're so nice," Cordelia made her gratitude as if his choice was inevitable.

Grudgingly, Roy took Cordelia to his lodgings. The woman's confused face revealed her view of the place. "Pretty miserly on your State Alchemist salary."

"I'm rather generous with my money."

"Oh well, I've lived in worst places," the woman skipped around. "Oh, by the way," she took another expression of manipulation. "I have this friend. Can he bunk in too?"

"No."

"You'll barely notice him."

"No."

But Cordelia only cried. "Dennis!" And the door behind them opened. By itself. And then it closed. By itself. "As you can see, Dennis is a ghost."

Roy made a double-take. "A ghost?"

"You know, dead people forced to live metaphysically."

"I know what ghosts are," Roy felt a chill to that experienced knowledge. For all his knowledge, he didn't know how to deal with this unseen person.

"Look at it this way, Roy: here's one friend you won't have to worry about dying!"

Roy rolled his eyes at the straightness of Cordelia's ghastly point. For the umpteenth time, he rued.

To be continued