*insert disclaimer here*

Roy Mustang was having the best day.

He had woken 3 minutes before his alarm (A.N: luv wen that happens) content and refreshed. On his way to work he discovered the bakery down the road from him was having a bake sale and was able to pick up a muffin and coffee before work. The sun was out, not a cloud in the sky, and according to the weather reports, it wouldn't rain anytime soon. He had finished his all his paperwork the day before so unless some idiot blew up some building he would have a fairly easy day. AND to top all of that off, the Fullmetal Alchemist was in some desert back-water town on the other side of the country on a current lead.

All in all, today looked promising.

After taking another sip from his cup, Roy slipped the secretary a dazzling smile (who, in response, blushed deeply and giggled into her hand) and opened the door to his office.

He fumbled in the darkness for a second before he found the light switch. He flipped it on and was almost blown away.

The room exploded in cheers and some sort of confetti. Officers crowded his room and streamers hung limply from the roof. At first, Roy thought maybe Hawkeye had decided to go on holiday again and his subordinates were merely overacting. When he saw Hawkeye at the front of the crowd, serious expression and all, that theory was left for dead. Next he thought, and desperately hoped, that maybe he had been given a promotion. That idea was rejected when some of the asshol- pardon, some of the HIGHER UPS, were there as well, looking strangely smug.

Before he could actually get the chance to ask 'what the hell?', Havoc (who was wearing a ridiculous pointed party hat) had sauntered over to his side and had thrown a relaxed arm over his still-tense shoulders.

"Havoc, wha-" he started.

"Happy birthday, boss," Havoc said, the same kind of smug smile sliding over his face.

Oh, Roy thought resentfully, that's what he had missed this morning. The date.

"Don't tell me he forgot his own birthday," Breda laughed, walking over to join them, "that's just sad."

"Probably in denial," Havoc replied, speaking as though Roy wasn't even present, "poor guy. I probably would be too."

"How old is he?" asked Fuery innocently, also speaking as though Roy was in another room, "Hawkeye never told us."

Havoc and Breda turned their twin predatory grins in Roy's direction before saying together, "old."

"He's turning 30, Fuery," Hawkeye told him.

Roy groaned, peaceful thoughts forgotten.

"And, sir?" Hawkeye continued, picking something up from beside her, "here."

Roy looked at the gigantic stack of papers in her arms and almost died.

"But Lt." he half whined, half begged, "I did all my paperwork yesterday."

"You did, sir, but Edward got into some trouble on his mission and-"

"Let me guess," Roy interrupted, "Blew up some important building?"

"Yes, actually," Hawkeye raised an eyebrow, "How'd you know?"

Roy grinned bitterly, shoved his half-eaten muffin into Havoc's hands and took the papers from Hawkeye, "Lucky guess."