What sane person could live in this world and not be crazy?

Ursula K. LeGuin

They should have seen this coming. Roy Mustang was looking at the door to his office, making sure the arrays and mechanical parts did not show. He warned them so many times, he had been so very patient. But no, they would not listen. Every day the same routine: first, the door opens, then people barge in and then – as an afterthought - they knock, if knock at all. He's been polite, he's been strict - nothing worked. And how many times his poor door was kicked open or banged close so very unceremoniously by Fullmetal... Roy could not contain the groan of exasperation at the mere thought.

However, that was it. Not any more. He spent two weeks putting together a complicated mechanism powered by alchemy that would release the virtually undetectable door lock exactly 1.5 seconds after someone knocks or whenever he himself activates an array on the underside of his desk. If the door were to be pushed though (or kicked, or slammed into…), there would be a delay of about 3.5 seconds allowing the person on the other side to gather power for another push (kick, punch etc.) before the door would swing automatically open. The idea was ingenious - people who actually knock would not even notice that the door is locked. Everyone else, on the other hand... Roy could not help smirking. Just you wait, Fullmetal. Especially for you, the door now bounces forward if slammed too hard. Oh, the joyful anticipation!

The plan was absolutely brilliant if Mustang did say so himself.

***

Riza Hawkeye was genuinely worried. Colonel Mustang's behavior was alarmingly strange today. She sat down at her desk, rubbing her temples in a vain attempt to disperse an uneasy feeling that she missed something. She tried to recall anything unusual that could've provoked him. There was nothing whatsoever. No news – good or bad, no problems, not even too much paperwork. He left the office yesterday looking completely normal. He went straight home – she knew, because she had to call him to verify the time for today's stuff meeting. What happen between yesterday's night and today's morning? He did not look sick, troubled or hung-over. So, what could that be? Because surely something had to happen, for him to look so unnaturally happy. Maybe something she'd done? It was not possible. She was doing things almost automatically every morning and before her second cup of coffee there was not a chance she would deviate from the long standing routine pattern.

When she came to work, Mustang was already in, which was not so common, but not that rare either. She collected papers that she presorted yesterday for him to sign, walked to his office, knocked, entered, greeted him and put documents on his desk. Exactly as she does every day. However, instead of his usual scowl, he smiled (smiled!) at her and when she looked at him in confusion he winked!

"Wonderful weather today, isn't it!" he said with a cheerful note of insanity in his voice.

"It is raining, sir." Maybe he was sick or something. Maybe she should call for a medical team to check on him.

"Oh, I didn't even notice."

This strange announcement unhinged Riza even more. She looked around the room in a search for a suitable reply, but not the downpour behind the window, nor the still wet overcoat on a hanger and certainly not the umbrella, that stood drying in the corner, gave her any idea what to say. She knew, Mustang hated rain. It was not possible for him not to notice it. Deciding to ignore the small talk altogether, she pushed the papers slightly towards him.

"Please, sir, finish these before afternoon, I'll need to submit them today."

"No problem, you can come by in an hour, I'll be done by then."

That, Riza knew, was the most astonishing thing she had heard in the last decade, even including Armstrongs's drunken confession that he's been crossdressing as a girl to attend his sister's birthday parties. Still, nothing could be done, she will have just to watch him and pray it was a temporary lapse of reason. Hopefully, it'll last long enough for him to finish the paperwork on time for a change.

Couple more minutes Riza contemplated Mustang's strange mood, but there was no logical explanation of what she had witnessed. She shrugged and tried to concentrate on her own work, but as the minutes passed, Riza grew more and more apprehensive until she could not handle it any longer. Mustang did not go for coffee. He had not come out of the office even once to ask for something unnecessary, he did not fake any urgent business that would allow him to leave office for couple of hours, delaying his paperwork. It was highly suspicious.

She had to peak and make sure Mustang was working and not doing something stupid, like pointing a gun to his head. Quietly, she walked to the door and listened. Nothing. Careful not to make a noise, she clasped a doorknob and gave it the slightest push. The door did not move. She pushed a bit harder. Still nothing. Did he, perhaps, barricade it? She knew it, something was wrong! Quickly, she pulled and cocked a gun and then braced the handle and prepared to give it one final mighty shove, when unexplainably the door swung open, pulling her hand that was holding the doorknob and Riza stumbled inside Mustang's office, barely keeping her balance and accidently pulling the trigger. With a loud "BDZINGGG" the bullet got stuck in the doorframe.

Embarrassed, she looked at Mustang. He appeared to have been working when she interrupted him, pen in his hand and politely amused expression on his face.

"Something's the matter, lieutenant?"

"No, sir!" What else could she say? "I was just wondering if you are done with the documents I gave you." It's been less than an hour so the question sounded ridiculous, but she had nothing better to offer as an excuse.

Mustang raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at a gun in her hand, giving her a not-so-subtle indication that her clumsiness was duly noticed. She expected him to say something sarcastic, but again he surprised her.

"Well, you must have an excellent intuition, lieutenant! I just finished it." He signed the paper in front of him with a bit of a flourish and, stacking it neatly with the others, handed it to her.

It took Riza a whole of ten minutes and two glasses of water before she unscrambled her brain into a semblance of a working order. She was still half-dazed when wide-eyed Havoc ran past her, asking her without slowing down, "Is Colonel there?" Before Riza could say anything, before she even had a chance to open her mouth, Havoc collided with the door of Mustang's office with a resounding CRASH!

"What the...?" Havoc yelled, clutching his left hand and shoulder. He looked at Riza questioningly, but she could only nod.

Scowling, Havoc knocked.

"Come in," he heard Mustang's voice. Was the Colonel laughing? "It's open."

Riza observed with something close to detached amusement as Havoc repeated her previous mistake. As he was absolutely certain that the door was stuck, he pushed it really well, falling through and collapsing in the middle of Mustang's office.

Watching humiliated Havoc pick himself up from the floor, apologizing, Riza could not help noticing a hideously smug smirk on Mustang's face. The Colonel was very much enjoying his day.

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Disclamer: Just in case anyone does not know, Fullmetal Alchemist & all its characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa.

A/N: Please feel free to comment and criticize!