AN: This will be a collection of short-to-long pieces centred around various characters from Briggs, both the infamous and the lesser-known ones. They won't necessarily be in chronological order, but beware of spoilers for the whole of Brotherhood. Rating will be from K-T. It's mostly only nakamaship, but because this is me there'll be the occasional Olivier/Buccaneer, but you can skip those if it's not your cup of tea.

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and its characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa; I own nothing. The title of this particular piece is shamelessly borrowed from Robert Palmer's 'Bad Case of Loving You'.

Children of the Northern Cold

by Miss Mungoe

–Doctor Doctor, Give Me the News

Characters: Doctor, Neil, Random Soldier
Rating: K+

She didn't look like the Major General.

Actually, on second thought, saying that was a gross understatement; she looked absolutely nothing like the Major General. Of course, that was neither here nor there, but sometimes Doc wondered if her life wouldn't perhaps be easier if she just let her hair grow long. Then again, no matter how long she grew it it would never have the same flair that Major General Armstrong's mane had. It would probably just end up looking awkward, the way it had when she'd tried growing it out in medical school. And it would just get in her way, really, and with all the field work she did, she couldn't have her hair flopping around, falling into open wounds and the like.

She wondered sometimes how the General managed.

Running a hand through her hair, Doc muttered under her breath as she concentrated on the neat row of stitches she was making, though her thoughts kept drifting. It was the handsome soldier – the one who'd transferred from East last month, and who had the prettiest eyes she'd ever seen on a grown man. And really nice, long lashes, and thick, auburn hair that never seemed to be out of place. It was distracting, to say the least. Of course, in her line of work she was used to seeing men of all types and in various, distracting states of undress, and she'd learned to manage. But Nice Eyes was making it difficult, and he wasn't even looking at her, which made it worse, really. Because if there was one thing of which Doc was pretty damn certain, it was that most men in Briggs were rather oblivious to the fact that she was, in fact, a woman.

"Hey, Doc, would you help me with this? I think something's gotten knocked loose in my automail." The tightening of a screw later, and she'd get a grin and a rough slap on the back, and, her favourite:

"Thanks, Doc! You're a right pal!"

It wasn't that she wanted to be seen as a woman first. Quite the contrary, she prided herself in her profession and her skill and was glad not to be met with the same prejudice a lot of women in her line of work were neck-deep in. She was a Briggs bear to the marrow of her bones, and that meant doctor first, woman second. The others just didn't seem to have gotten that last part.

At all.

Officer Nice Eyes had one automail leg, and so it was only natural he'd drop by for check-ups with Neil, and in which case Doc was often called for a consult.

Today she'd found it written on a sticky-note stuck to her morning coffee, and was proud she'd only spent a minute in front of the mirror trying to make her hair lay flat before blatantly giving up the whole endeavour as she made for Neil's automail shop on the lower level. And because she was a little late, she caught the mutterings of a conversation from down the corridor as she rounded the corner, but she wouldn't have thought anything about it, if she hadn't heard them explicitly mention her name.

"–East is pretty different, yeah. But Briggs has got to have the best women."

There was a snort from Neil. "Better watch what you say there, or the General will want to have a word. And by 'word', I mean she might chuck you off the side of the Fort."

Nice Eyes laughed, in that bashful way that was just a little too boyish for Briggs. "Ah, no, that wasn't what I meant! East doesn't have a lot of female soldiers, and the few we've got are pretty silly. They're nothing like the women here, was what I meant. They're strong as bears!"

Neil barked a laugh. "Yeah, you've got that right. Our Queen runs us all hard, regardless of gender. Ain't no easy way here, only the Briggs way."

"But it's quite something, though. From the rumours I'd thought the General would be something else, but she's an incredibly fair leader."

"No truer words spoken, mate."

"And then there's Doc."

"Yeah, Doc's a treasure. Won't find a medic who can stitch a wound faster this side of the Wall. Would be a lot more casualties in our ranks without her, that's for sure."

Nice Eyes was quiet a moment, and Doc lingered awkwardly in the corridor, but decided that it would be pretty rude of her to barge into their conversation now. She could...wait a moment, until an opening presented itself. "She's very professional. It's almost a little hard to get to know her personally."

Neil hummed. "Well, the General's the same. It's got a bit to do with keeping up appearances, I think. Not always easy, being a woman in the military."

"Yeah, I guess. But they're doing alright, I think. Hard to think of them as women, sometimes, but I guess that's the way you do it in Briggs, huh?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up. The Boss Lady isn't overly fond of the whole gender issue – she prefers to think of us all as soldiers first."

"Ha, so I've gathered. Doc the same way, then?"

"I dunno – why don't you ask her?" And there was a smile in that voice, Doc realized just a little too late, before Neil called out, "What do you say, Doc? Are you a soldier first or a woman?"

Stepping into the shop, she caught the twinkling in his eyes that told her he'd known she'd been there all along, and resolved to find some way to make his life a little harder. "You already know the answer to that, Neil," she said, as she put her empty cup of coffee down on the table with a little more force than strictly necessary. The mechanic only grinned back shamelessly, and Nice Eyes watched the silent stand-off with that innocent-but-oh-so-endearing look on his face that would probably see him dead before the year was over. Poor cub. She silently lamented the inevitable loss of such striking good looks – it was a rarity in Briggs, to be sure. The pretty ones were always the first to go, and the ones who stuck around, the veterans, couldn't hope to claim much in the appearance department.

But he was looking at her now, she realized, with the kind of admiration that told her he was more than certain that if he ended up on her operating table he'd make it out alright, and it rubbed her pride exactly the right way. And there was a gleam of the awestruck sort of respect that followed the Major General around in those unfairly gorgeous eyes, and she found that it didn't really matter that she didn't have the General's hair – she could turn eyes just the same, as it appeared. What do you know.

Ignoring Neil's knowing look, Doc set about checking Nice Eyes' automail-socket, taking her sweet time and answering all his eager questions with a patience spurred on by the admiring smile on his pretty face. It was perhaps taking advantage of things, not to mention it was the kind of shameless self-indulgence she'd never been one for partaking in. But then again, she wasn't the Major General, and it wasn't often those kind of looks were directed at her, and so Doc indulged. Shamelessly. And when she was done and he shyly asked her if she wanted to grab a cup in the mess, she grinned sweetly–

–and politely declined the offer, and when she strode out of the shop, fingers tapping a jolly tune against the side of her coffee mug as she left the two sitting in her wake, she wasn't sure who was gaping the most.

But seriously, she had patients today. Damn fine eyes or not, she didn't have time to just grab a coffee in the mess when there were soldiers bleeding all over her medical wing. Men, honestly. Thinking with the wrong heads half the time, it's a wonder most of them are still alive enough to bleed. She shook her head with a fond snort. Then she ran a hand through her hair, adjusted her glasses on her nose and grinned. She was a woman, make no mistake, but she was a Briggs bear before anything else.

And the prettiest eyes in the world couldn't hope to change that.

AN: I find it immensely interesting that the only name found for this woman is 'Briggs doctor lady', but I've settled for calling her 'Doc', as it seems a plausible nickname.