"I hate you, you know that?" Ed asked, turning away from the older alchemist. "Seriously. Go jump in a lake."

"But then I wouldn't be able to enjoy the show, now would I?" Roy said, the dreaded smirk pulling at his lips.

"I repeat. I hate you."

Roy simply laughed and leaned back in his chair. This chair was like a large lounge compared to his other one. In fact, his entire office was top of the range mahogany and leather, all of it flashy and all of it brand new; it matched his new rank of Fuhrer. He had been ruler for a whole six months now. Something he liked to flaunt, just like he was doing at that very moment.

"Now, now Edward," he said, condescendingly."That's treason."

"Don't patronize me," she spat, " I'm not a child anymore."

"I can see that," he said, eyeing her.

"Bastard!" she hissed, blushing a deep crimson. When his smirk simply widened she feebly tried to pull the hem (which was much higher than she would have liked) of her skirt down, with little success. "Bastard!"

"Fullmetal."

"Sorry!" she said quickly, "Colonel Bastard. Better?"

"…but I'm the Fuhrer," he said. He refrained himself from pouting, he knew that would only egg her on further and then she would never call him by his proper rank.

"To me you'll always be a Colonel!"

"Fine," he groaned. "Better than nothing I suppose."

Her answering smirk had him frowning even deeper. He just couldn't resist adding, "but you still have to were the miniskirt like everyone else."

Her smirk disappeared, "…have I ever told you I hate you?"

Ed truly hated skirts. She wanted to find the idiot who came up with horrendous thing and introduce his brains to her fist.

Roy Mustang (automatically she thought about the 'Fuhrer' that was missing. Damn, she had spent far to much time with that man ((AN: Captain jack Sparrow, anyone?)) ) was a sadist. That had to be it, he just liked seeing her in pain! Well, and he was a pervert but we, ladies and gentlemen, already knew that.

When she left his office to head back to hers (one of the advantages of being a Colonel now) she ran into a particularly greasy General.

"Nice legs," he breathed down her neck, far to close for Ed's comfort, before running into Mustang's office.

Ed clenched her teeth, having to physically stop herself from following the pervert and introducing his face to her fist. Military officers could be so disgusting!

Just as she was about to leave the angle of the closing door caught her eye and she frowned. If the door was open seconds ago, did that mean the Colonel (Fuhrer- damnit! Why did she keep reminding herself?) saw the whole thing?

Yes. Roy Mustang was a sadist and was probably in there laughing his ass of at that very moment.


Ed was very confused the next morning to find a notice stapled to everyone's door. It was not the notice itself that confused her; there had been many similar ones over the last six months, but what was written on it. Several decrees sat on neat even lines, each very reasonable. It was the fourth one that made her head hurt. It read:

'Whilst all other female officers are required to wear a skirt with their uniforms, all state alchemists are exempted from the rule.'

And even more confusing was the signature at the bottom. It was signed: Fuhrer Roy Mustang.

"Hey, boss," Havoc said, coming up behind her. "You reading the new notices?"

"I think…" she began slowly, "… my brain just broke."