"Fullmetal, there's been a complaint about you."

Mustang's voice was strained and vaguely annoyed. Edward Elric straightened from tying the infernal laces on his boots and frowned at his superior. He absently flipped his long braid back over his shoulder.

To everyone's surprise, Ed had renewed his military contract, despite the years of complaints about every little detail of military life. When questioned, he had shrugged, revealed a wicked grin, and commented that he "couldn't let Mustang off that easy."

"When isn't there a complaint about me," Ed asked wryly, sitting on the couch facing Mustang's desk and resting his ankle on the knee of his automail leg.

"Yes, well," Mustang admitted. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Ed was faintly alarmed at this reaction. Mustang did a lot of things, but he never showed this amount of weakness in front of Ed. Never.

"Okay, so what's different about this one," Ed pressed, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. He still may not like Mustang very much, but he had known the man for eight years now. Time and proximity breeds familiarity, after all.

He pushed back off the couch and crossed the office to stand in front of Mustang's desk. It was Ed's greatest pleasure that he was very nearly the same height as the other man, and as he leaned over the desk, he smirked inwardly at the ability to finally look down on Mustang. His long braid, now reaching the small of his back, slipped back over his shoulder to pool on the surface of the desk.

"I'll just let him talk to you personally," Mustang said finally. He straightened and restored the expression of calm superiority on his face. Despite his irritation, Mustang was somewhat looking forward to this confrontation.

Ignoring Ed's startled sound of inquiry, Mustang pressed the button on the intercom that had recently been installed on his desk. "Go ahead and send him in," he commanded, releasing the button and ignoring the response.

"What in the world is going on here, Mustang" Ed questioned, his tone low and irritated. It had been years since the older man had strung him along like this and Ed definitely did inot/i like the reminder of his teenage days.

Mustang said nothing as he leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk hovering around the corner of his mouth.

The door swung open and Ed spun around to see who was causing the fuss. His brows furrowed in confusion as he laid eyes on the young man who entered the office. He was about the same height as Ed and he was dressed in a pair of black pants and a black top that had a collar vaguely reminiscent of the priests that Ed had occasionally encountered in his travels. The young man was glaring at him with angry violet eyes and a long chestnut braid swung behind him as he strode forward.

Ed was too surprised to react as the newcomer strode angrily right to his face and grabbed a handful of his red jacket. "What the…"

"You asshole," the young man cut off Ed's question with an angry epithet. "You may not understand how things work around here, but the position of handsome young man with a long braid has already been filled by me."

Ed's jaw dropped in shock and he hardly even registered Mustang's choked laughter. He regained his senses quickly and brushed the other man's hands off his jacket. Scowling, he took a step back to regain his personal space. "Okay, crazy guy. Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you talking about?"

Violet eyes flashed in anger and the young man jabbed a thumb at his own chest. "Duo Maxwell. I was around a full six years before you came on the scene, and I'm telling you, we don't need another handsome braided guy milling about. So you either need to get a haircut or go die."

Ed felt like he must have been dreaming as he stared in amazement at the self-proclaimed Duo Maxwell. Maybe he had died all those years ago. Maybe the Gate had eaten him and this was its insane idea of a joke.

"Don't give me that confused, innocent look! You won't believe how many fans I've lost to you over the years. I won't stand for it anymore, do you hear me?"

"Fans…" Ed echoed faintly. He glanced at Mustang out of the corner of his eye. The highly respected Fuhrer was doubled over, tears streaming down his face as he tried to hold in his laugher. Ed quickly realized that he was getting no help from him and he turned back to analyze Maxwell.

The young man was obviously not in his right mind. Ed's irritation softened as he realized that Maxwell was apparently very ill. "It's okay, I understand," he soothed gently. "I'll make sure to set things right. Why don't you just head on home and relax, eh?"

Maxwell narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "If I have to come back here, you're going to regret it. I'm a Gundam pilot, you know."

Ed had no idea what a Gundam was, but apparently Maxwell thought it was something important. He nodded solemnly. Maxwell seemed appeased. He spun on his heel and left the office with a flourish, long braid swinging behind him.

There was a flash of brilliant light in the hall that spilled into the office. Ed rushed to the door and peered out in concern. His question died on his lips at the sight of the shocked, but unharmed, military personnel in the hallway. There was a slightly sooty spot on the floor.

Ed finally found his voice and demanded, "what just happened here?"

"Sir… the young man… he just vanished!"

Ed narrowed his eyes at the speaker but was satisfied with the honest surprise on his face. He nodded and retreated back into Mustang's office. The older man had calmed himself by this point and was mopping his face with a handkerchief.

"I don't suppose you understand what in the hell just happened, do you?" Ed asked helplessly.

"I have no idea, Fullmetal. But that was the most entertaining thing I have ever seen," Mustang grinned. At the sight of the fury that was darkening Ed's face, Mustang withdrew a pair of large silver scissors from his desk drawer. "Would you like to borrow these, or should I take care of it for you?" He rested his middle finger on his thumb, preparing for a quick snap of sparks, and smirked wickedly.

"Why, you!" Ed was at a loss for words as his anger rose to dangerous levels. He kicked the couch viciously at the Fuhrer, who dodged laughingly.

The severely confused staff in the hall relaxed at the familiar sounds of destruction coming from their leader's office. All was well if Roy Mustang and Edward Elric were at each other's throats.

A/N: Hi all! Enjoy my re-entry into the writing fanfiction world! I've been writing challenge fics with a friend of mine (SpecialBlendFanfics on deviantArt, if you are curious) and it has worked to inspire my personal writing. This little bit of crack sprang from watching Endless Waltz and FMA: Brotherhood.

The universe is obviously AU… Ed still has his alchemy and his automail… because I like it that way.

Hope you enjoyed!