"Hiya boss!"

Havoc's voice was bright and cheery as he clapped Ed on the shoulder. Daggers were glared at the source of positivity - as usual. (When wasn't Ed glaring at somebody?) It didn't (couldn't!) damper Jean Havoc spirit, not today. After all, he'd gone two weeks and counting with his new girlfriend.

"Why so happy, Lieutenant?" A new voice drawled.

Havoc jumped, his face drained of color while Edward looked surlier than before (if possible).

"Colonel!"

Jean jumped to attention, shoulders stiff and eyes adverted, hoping someone would come to his rescue.

They didn't.

Roy dismissed him lazily, prowling in front of Havoc, a shadow of a smirk etching its way onto his face.

"Now tell me, does this happiness have any involvement with - persay - a woman?"

Havoc's once smiling face had morphed into a frown, "Yeah, Chief." he replied glumly, "but... she's a - a redhead!"

Colonel Mustang broke into a full-fledged smirk - his trademark.

"Ah, I see. Yes, I do prefer blondes anyway."

Was it just Havoc, or did Edward look a little pink?

"Hey boss, you okay? You look a little... flushed."

"I'm fine!" Ed barked, fidgeting with the front hem of his coat.

Still smirking, Mustang continued,

"How tall is she, Lieutenant? I do enjoy my women short."

"BASTARD! WHO ARE YOU CALLING SHORT AS A WOMAN?"

"..." Havoc's ever present cigarette hung precariously from his lips.

Did the boss just imply...? He and the Colonel? Nah, no way.

Havoc must be imagining things.

"Actually Edward, technically you're shorter than most women."

Havoc winced, knowing that if he started running now, he could be at the other end of the building with minimal damage to his person. Sometimes things were thrown (things that were flaming, mind you.) Havoc did not want to be caught in the crossfire.

Again.

It was a wise decision, Havoc thought, because when he reached the door to the outer hallway, he heard various crashes, and a retort that sounded suspiciously like,

"And technically, bastard, something of yours will be shorter than average once I'm through with it!"

Halfway through his sprint/speed walk to the other side of the building, Havoc stopped to fish out a pack of cigarettes kept handy in times like these. Of course, as fate declared, there weren't any in the box. So, Havoc dutifully turned foot and made his way back to the never-ending war in Colonel Mustang's office. He was a soldier, he could handle it.

He hoped.

When reaching the door to what could be certain death, Jean Havoc made a decision to go stealthy, lest he be noticed and perhaps get all the anger turned towards him. After a shudder at the thought of what could happen and a hopeless promise to himself that he'd get his cigs, Jean opened the door a crack and peered in.

And the last piece of his cigarette promptly fell from his mouth.

Colonel Mustang had Edward pinned in a very awkward position. His back was pressed against the wall, trapped between solid concrete and the Flame Alchemist himself. Mustang had pinned the automail hand and held the other hand above Ed's head. Surely Ed had the strength to pull away from the man's grip! Unless... maybe he didn't want to hurt the Colonel? But he tried to hurt the man every day!

Strange.

Actually, Ed was acting very strange to begin with - breathing erratic, face intensely red, and some dark, heated thing lurking in his eyes. Now that Havoc thought about it, Mustang looked a bit odd himself. He was leaning closer and closer to Edward, removing any personal space the boy had left until their bodies were flush against each other.

Why wasn't Ed yelling insults or screaming rants? How had Mustang gotten the upperhand? And - why were they kissing each other! Quickly slamming the door, Havoc sprinted to the break room, eager to tell the rest of the team what he just witnessed.

But first, perhaps a small detour to the bathroom. He needed to get some tissues to stop the blood coming out of his nose.