Yeah, I'm about to give one of those "I just haven't had the time to update anything" excuses. I'm sorry about all this, but I've also been having some writers block I'm afraid.
So I figured, what the hell? I'll jump on the bandwagon and start a series of oneshots to get back in to fanfic mode. RoyEd, of course. Anywho, I hope you like this one- it's based on an inside joke I have with one of my friends.
Dance Princess"Ed? What the hell is that?" Roy said, pointing to a small square object in Ed's hands.
Ed and Roy had just woken up from another one of their "sleepovers" at Roy's apartment in central. After cuddling with one another for a short while, Roy pointed out that it was almost time for work and that they should start getting ready to leave. After a few well-placed kisses and very long, very well-placed squeeze, Ed obliged, although somewhat reluctantly. Roy went to make coffee, as usual, while Ed got dressed and groomed himself. The taller man sometimes believed that Ed was more obsessed with his looks than he was, and that was saying something.
When Roy had finished preparing two cups of very strong coffee, he went to the bedroom and knocked on the door.
"Hurry up, Ed, or we'll be late again," he said.
No answer.
Mustang began to grow impatient. "You could at least say something; grunt, whistle, sing…"
No answer.
Roy looked as if were about to incinerate the door, but instead kicked it open and began to yell, "ED, WHAT-"
Roy froze, looking onto the bed. Ed was perched on the edge of it, peering into a small, very fuzzy, very pink, handheld mirror.
Ed turned around to look at Mustang, and turned a deep shade of red.
Almost speechless, Roy spluttered, "What the hell is that?"
Ed, at a total loss for words, handed the mirror to Roy.
Roy stared at it stupidly, and read a word that had been embroidered in purple at the top edge next to a pink ballet slipper. "Dance…?" he said, with an incredulous look on his face.
Pausing before he answered, Ed pointed at the bottom edge of the mirror where another word had been inscribed in purple embroidery floss and said, "No… no, it's dance princess."
Needless to say, the "Dance Princess" mirror didn't last very long in the Mustang household. By the time the couple had left for work, all that remained of Ed's object of vanity was a charcoaled frame, and a few bits of melted glass.