Perverts Anonymous

A/N: this was due……oh dear, two months ago. sweatdrop Coco, this one's for you; sorry it's so late! Also, this probably isn't my best work. Sigh.

The two men stood face-to-face, surveying the other with identical narrowed blue eyes. Blue uniform……check. Short straight black hair that fell over their foreheads……check. Slanted blue eyes in a pale face……check, though one was covered with an eyepatch. Devastating cuteness……check. Tall and lean……check. Gloves……check, although they were in different colours. Current adorable frown……check.

Eh. What?

'Impossible,' they both breathed at the same time and then backed cautiously away from each other, falling onto their bar stools.

'I think I've had too much to drink,' Roy said unsteadily.

'Oi, bartender!' Miroku called out. 'Get me a taxi, I'm seeing two of me!'

The bartender came over. Looked at the two of them sitting in identical postures on adjoining stools and did a double-take. 'Actually, I think you're not seeing things.'

Warily, Miroku looked over at his double. They peered closely at each other. There were some differences, now that he looked closer; other guy had a wider mouth, a sharper nose, and there was a guardedness in his eyes that Miroku didn't have.

'You look like me,' Miroku said.

'Cuter,' Roy corrected. So modest.

'……I'll let that pass. What's your name?'

'Roy Mustang.'

'Mine's Miroku.'

'No last name?'

'Take it up with the mangaka.'

Roy nodded. 'Terrible what they do to people sometimes. Like me, I'm the only half-Japanese character on my show.'

'That's sad,' Miroku said commiseratingly.

'Yeah, it is.'

They nodded in perfect understanding.

'Like I'm probably going to die in a couple of volumes.'

'And my best friend was killed off for no reason whatsoever.'

'And every so often I get poisoned by wasps.'

'And I'm supposed to be borderline suicidal, and I never got to be Fuehrer.'

'And I'm not the leader of my group even though I'm obviously the smartest of the lot.'

'Being leader isn't all it's cracked up to be, you know. I've had to babysit some idiots in my time. Not to mention a maverick blond with a suit of armour for a brother.'

Miroku arched a slender eyebrow, but continued. 'My girlfriend likes to hit me with a seven-foot youkai-bone boomerang.'

Roy shuddered at the thought. 'Mine uses a gun.'

A tsk. 'Some women just shouldn't be handed a weapon. Although,' Miroku added with the hint of a leer, 'that skin-tight exterminator's outfit……'

'Riza in a miniskirt……' Roy said in blissful meditation. 'Almost makes it worth being shot at.'

'She pretty?'

'Stops traffic at twenty paces. Yours?'

'Hotter than a furnace. And oh, her luscious behind……'

They both sighed.

'I'm more a leg man myself.'

'I see.'

'Interesting-looking glove you have there. Why are there beads on it?'

'That,' Miroku said wryly, 'is the main reason I'm on a bender here.'

Which set off the conversation. After a while they stopped drinking and started talking in earnest.

Three hours later, they were even further on the way to being utterly sloshed than they had been, which, Roy thought fuzzily, was something he hadn't really believed was possible. They'd also been kicked out of the bar when the bartender noticed him pulling on his ignition gloves with an air of purpose.

Really, he'd only been trying to demonstrate. It wasn't like he'd burn down the bar or something.

So here they were, on the road, staggering gently towards an unknown destination.

'The thing,' Miroku said, trying gamely to point at Roy, 'is that anime characters have far too little say in what happens in the series. They should make it a cooperative effort.'

Dimly, Roy wondered how the man could pronounce words like 'cooperative' after drinking the amount they had.

Of course, anime characters had an infinite capacity to hold their liquor if necessary.

'Yep,' he said. 'Have to ask us before they kill us.'

'But if they asked,' Miroku said, blinking owlishly, 'we wouldn't want to die.'

'Or maybe I'd get Riza in a miniskirt–'

'Naraku dead–'

'And Riza in a miniskirt–'

'You're really into miniskirts, aren't you?'

'It's a thing.'

'Better than skin-tight leggings that go up all the way?'

'Can't see the legs with leggings,' Roy pointed out.

'True, true.'

'You know,' Miroku said, 'another thing that really bugs me about this whole anime deal is how pat the whole thing works out. Like whenever I'm doing something I shouldn't, Sango always finds me.'

'I feel you,' Roy replied with heartfelt emotion. 'It's terrible, the way we always get caught doing something bad.'

'In fact–' Miroku began, but whatever fascinating insight he had on the matter remained unspoken that night, and the monk fell silent as he caught sight of a very familiar green-and-white dress emerging from the dark, gloved hands on hips and an expression a valkyrie would envy.

'So this is where you are,' the girl said ominously. 'Do you have any idea what time it is?'

'Now, Sango, dear,' he began nervously.

'This is Sango?' Roy inquired. 'Well. You weren't exaggerating.'

'Not now, Roy,' Miroku shushed.

'I don't even want to hear it,' Sango hissed. 'You're coming home immediately!'

'Sango–'

Another anime character popped into existence beside the slayer.

'Roy Mustang!'

'Riza?' he yelped incredulously.

'I warned you about getting drunk with strangers, didn't I?'

Simultaneously, the slayer and the soldier clamped a painful grip on the hapless men's ears. 'Hey, Riza,' Sango greeted calmly.

'Sango. It's a pleasure to meet again.'

'Tea tomorrow at the café?'

'Four o' clock.'

'Wait, you two know each other?' Roy said.

'Of course. We've been friends for years.'

'But you never introduced us!'

'Look at the result of that,' Riza commented.

Miroku had to admit that she had a point there, but it was getting hard to think with Sango trying to pull his ear off bare-handed. 'Seeya,' he managed to get out before she pulled him away and back to their dimension.

The Aut-Hor laughed evilly, the controls for the portals in her hands. 'Mock the mangaka, would you?'