A/N: Hello hello from the Crazy Staffers, Aly and Bizzy! Welcome to Life Will Change, another installment in the "Spinning Out" universe. This piece has been a very long time coming, with Aly and I returning to it time and time again to make tweaks over almost two years. If you thought our other fics turned into monsters, well...this one had to be broken up into chapters.
Enjoy!
Also, we don't own FMA. Alas.
To General Armstrong,
Colonel Hawkeye glared at the sheet of paper in front of her, and proceeded to scratch her work out once again. She'd started over her letter twice already, stuck in an awkward place between formality and friendliness. It had been quite some time since she'd last spoken with General Armstrong, and while she considered the woman a friend there remained a modicum of respect expected between two officers-regardless of whether one was retired.
Formal invitations were due to be sent out tomorrow, and she was still fuming at the stationary that Ellen had bought her as a birthday gift ('use it to send a special someone letters', the young nurse had said, when the then-Lieutenant Colonel had been working in Ishval while a certain then-Brigadier General was back in Central).
"You can't possibly see that letter you're working on."
Hawkeye's gaze shot up from her desk, amber eyes narrowed, just in time to meet General Mustang's. He smiled amicably, well aware of the ire he was about to receive. She stopped the growl that was forming in her throat, because she knew he took twisted pleasure in his ability to get a rise out of her, even if he knew it was going to be trouble. Both of his hands were up in placating self-defense, half a smirk on his face. "Don't shoot the messenger, Colonel. I'm the one stuck with you later when you'll have a killer headache," he quips.
She doesn't bother with any attempts at a witty retort, in large part because he is right. "I forgot—"
Instead, she's effectively silenced by the pair of reading glasses that Mustang produces from an inner pocket of his uniform jacket. The smirk on his lips morphs into a smile. "Someone taught me to come prepared."