Story of my Life
Summary: What happens when Mustang catches Havoc enjoying himself while doing paperwork? Why did Havoc join the military anyways? And what does Human Resources have to do with it?
A/N: This is dedicated to my friend James, who wanted me to write something that didn't involve romance. Pssh Where's the fun in that? Well, I did it, and did it with class. Although he claims there is something going on between Mustang and Havoc. Jeeze, James, what do I have to do? It's a songfic written the same way I wrote 'Best of You', with the lyrics used as characters' dialogue. The song I'm using is 'Story of My Life' by Social Distortion, who – by the way- totally rock. Also, so no one flames me, I know there's no mention of 7-11 in Amestris (or any other variety store, to think of it), but it fit so well that I had to include it. On to the fanfic! Oh yeah -- lyrics are in bold. I love Havoc!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the FMA universe. Or the song 'Story of My Life' while we're at it.
"You can't spell 'who cares' without HR."- Catbert, Dilbert: Thriving On Vague Objectives
Scratching his head in boredom, Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc leaned back on his chair, balancing it on just the back two legs. He lit up another cigarette.
So… bored… he thought, looking up at the ceiling. He almost wished he had more paperwork to do. Almost.
He glanced to the front of the room. The Colonel seemed to doing more or less the same as he was; except he did have paperwork.
Havoc switched his line of vision to where First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye sat.
Weird, he frowned noting Hawkeye's absence. I wonder where she is?
He didn't worry though. The pretty officer was bound to burst in at any moment to nag Colonel Roy Mustang about his unfinished paperwork. He cringed. An aggravated Hawkeye was not fun. Images of her losing it one day and shooting Mustang in the kneecap flashed through his mind. He grinned this time.
"What seems to be so amusing, lieutenant?" Colonel Mustang's voice travelling across the room seemed deafening compared to the near silence before.
Havoc nearly fell over along with the chair his was so carefully balancing on.
"Gah!...Excuse me, sir?"
"Well, I noticed you were smiling and I thought you might have something humorous to say."
At this Breda and Fuery moved in their chairs to look at Havoc. His eyes widened. What had he gotten himself into?
"Oh. Uh, well…" he started, hoping Riza wasn't about to walk in just now and that the Colonel would find this as 'humorous' as he expected it to be.
"I was just thinking how it would be slightly comical if First Lieutenant Hawkeye lost it at you for not doing your paperwork-"
"And?" Mustang prompted him, sensing there was more.
"And I pictured her shooting you in the kneecap."
Breda snorted. Soon the Colonel was laughing as well.
"That is funny," he commented.
The First Lieutenant entered the room as if on cue and Havoc paled, hoping that she hadn't heard anything.
She made a confused face- probably due to the snickers emanating from Breda- but didn't say anything. Instead, she started handing out what looked like more paperwork.
Breda and Havoc groaned.
"What's this?" Fuery inquired, looking up at his blond superior when she handed the papers to him.
"An assignment from the Human Resources department."
"We actually have one of those?" Breda commented as she handed the last one to the colonel and paused at his desk as a familiar sight greeted her. She glanced at the pile of paperwork, then at him. He looked back at her, onyx eyes daring her to say something. After a moment of tension, she sighed dejectedly.
"Is it really that hard?" She asked him, indicating the paperwork.
Not answering her pointed question, but breaking away first from her glare, he replied, "It'll be finished."
Havoc read over the paper twice before he spoke. When he did, it was in disbelief: "An autobiography?" He made a face at Breda, and the other man chuckled and shook his head. "Are they serious?"
"It kind of sounds interesting," Fuery commented, adjusting his square framed spectacles. "I mean, it's more fun than paperwork, right?"
Havoc mumbled something about anything being more fun than paperwork, but Breda had already started scribbling ideas down. "Should I go for a third person point of view…?" He muttered to himself, obviously getting into the project.
The colonel watched his men's individual reactions. He propped his head up on a hand and sighed. This is worse than paperwork, he thought, eyeing Havoc, who had frown on his face, confusion apparent in his bright blue eyes.
So they basically want my life's story, Jean figured, picking up his pen and licking his dry lips subconsciously. Then that's what I'll give them.
At the stroke of noon, everyone automatically rose for lunch. As Havoc stood, his name was called.
"Lieutenant Havoc, I'd like to have a word with you," his superior told him. Jean prayed this wasn't about the comment he'd made earlier.
"Er, yeah chief?" Havoc answered, bracing himself for whatever was going to happen next, somewhere between Mustang's calling out of his name and Fuery's closing the double oak doors, he'd convinced himself that this wasn't going to be about anything good.
"What do you think Mustang wants with Havoc?" Fuery asked Breda, concerned- as always- about his comrade. Breda just shrugged and ran a hand through his short red hair. "How am I supposed to know?"
"I was wondering," Mustang started, leaning back in his chair and plopping his feet on the desk. Havoc relaxed a bit, sensing that the colonel was in a good mood and probably wasn't going to yell at him in such a laidback position.
"Have you finished the assignment from HR yet?"
"Huh?" Jean was caught completely off guard.
"That autobiography thing? Have you finished it?"
"Uh, well, I guess. I might make some changes to it still though…sir," Havoc told his commanding officer.
"Well then, let's hear it."
"…You want me to read it to you?" The second lieutenant suddenly wished he could change some things he had written.
"Of course I do," Mustang smirked slightly, "I like your sense of humour."
"Alright… Just gimme a second," Jean moved to get his papers.
"You can't remember your own life?" Mustang asked, sounding innocent enough, but at the same time he made Havoc feel like an idiot. Of course he could remember! It was just that he felt kind of nervous about the odd request.
Jean leaned against the desk behind him (which was, incidentally, belonged to Lieutenant Hawkeye). "Where should I start?" He asked his superior.
"Hmm, any where that could potentially inspire my own autobiography," Mustang told him, finally revealing why he had kept him. Havoc smiled, he knew exactly where to start.
"High school?" He inquired.
"High school." Mustang agreed.
"Well high school seemed like such a blur," Jean began truthfully. "I didn't have much interest in sports or school elections. In class, I dreamed all day, about the rock n' roll weekend." Fuery was right; talking about yourself was fun. "And the girl at the front of the room- so close yet so far- you know she never seemed to notice that the silly school boy crush wasn't just pretend." Roy smiled openly at this. "I had someone like that too, I still remember her name," he admitted. Jean ran a hand through his mess of blond hair and chuckled a little. "Yeah, her name was Ashley- I remember telling her that she was the 'most kick ass chick I knew'. That earned me a black eye." Roy realised that he could never connect with any of his other men the flawless way he did with Havoc. He thought of something he always wanted to know from people in their line of work, since everyone seemed to have a different answer.
"Why'd you join the military?"
"It's not really that exciting a story…It just came to me; during my last year of high school while I was looking at what I should do for possibly the rest of my life the only thing that really appealed to me was the military. There was only one problem- my parents were adamant that I do something else- anything else, really just 'don't go getting yourself killed for no reason'. But I was convinced that this was what I was supposed to be doing…So I compromised with them and agreed to wait a year." Havoc had never really told anyone this before, but he liked opening up to Mustang. He absently flicked the unlit cigarette that was in his mouth with his tongue, thinking about what to say next.
"So what did you do for a year?" Mustang questioned, watching the cigarette's erratic movements.
"Well at first I really like the prospect not having to do anything for a full year, but that grew old within the first month. I got dead bored, since most of my friends had either gone off to college, or were too busy with work. Then my girlfriend, Sharon, broke up with me to go to university…"
"Ouch," the raven haired man opposite of him felt the need to interject.
"Everything started- well I guess you could call it evolving. For instance, I went down to my old neighbourhood; the faces had all changed, there was no one left to talk to, and the pool hall I had loved as a kid was now a 7-11."
"Gods, don't you hate it when things change on you without your permission?" Mustang commented, giving Jean a lopsided grin. Leaving Havoc guessing as to whether or not he was being serious. Meanwhile Roy silently pondered when it was that the taller man in front of him had started smoking. He wasn't about to ask though; some thing were better told, not asked.
"I kind of fell into a routine to keep myself sane. I ran and worked out a lot, and keep my mind on how my life would be once I went to the military academy. But my parents, convinced that they could make me forget about my aspiration, sent me out job hunting, to which I foolishly agreed to, if only to shut them up." Mustang stifled a laugh. Havoc tried to look offended, but couldn't quite pull it off. "So I went downtown to look for a job; I had no training, no experience to speak of since I wasn't that interested in a part time job when I was in school, and my parents never pushed me since they wanted me to focus on schoolwork. So there I am, walking around, ready to drop off résumés and this elderly woman gives me this look…"
"Look?"
"Look. It was one of those 'damned hooligans what is the world coming to' looks. It kind of knocked some sense into me. I looked at the holes in my jeans, and I turned and I headed back home…"
"And then you stuck out the rest of the year and joined the military?"
"Exactly. My parents eventually got over it- it was easier to get over than some of my other-" he raised his hand and made the air quotations with two of his fingers on each hand, "-'flaws'."
"Smoking?" Mustang guessed, now leaning against his own desk.
"Heh, yeah," Havoc said smiling, removing the unlit one from his mouth. It was strange, but whenever he smiled, Roy felt the need to make him do it again. It was almost greater than his desire to annoy Hawkeye whenever she glared at him. Jean's smile was one he didn't see often enough. There was a hesitant knock on the door, and Fuery popped his he in the room.
"Hate to interrupt whatever's going on, sir, but lunch is over. Can we come in?"
"Of course," the colonel straightened up from his slouch. "Thanks for sharing that information with me, lieutenant."
Havoc returned to his desk, sat down, and resisted the urge to light his cigarette that was back to it's usually position. Talking with Mustang had inspired and ending from him:
Life goes by so fast, you only want to do what you think is right. Close your eyes and it's passed- story of my life.
That's it people...hope it made you giggle at least! I do appreciate reviews hopeful grin