Jean Havoc, Matchmaker Extraordinaire
Cephied Variable
"Fury, I'm going to find you a girlfriend." Havoc slammed his hands on the mess-hall table with an alarming measure of resolve, causing Fury to flinch noticably and drop his sandwhich. He adjusted his glasses shakily and slowly raised his eyes to stare at his superior officer (and friend) with a somewhat nervous bewilderment.
"W-why Second Lieutenant. What brought on this... sudden decision?"
Havoc fell back into his seat with a typically exhausted slump to his shoulders. He took a exaggerated drag of his cigarette and pointed an accusatory finger in Fury's direction, "Look at you! Those wide eyes! That unassuming nature! Your boyish looks! Fury, my dear man, you are what is commonly referred to as a 'chick magnet'."
Fury blinked in shock, "A-a chick magnet?"
Havoc nodded resolutely, "Totally. I'd bet you anything that women simply flock to you. I mean, you're adorable. I'd bet that we could find you a girl in... hell, less than a week."
Fury picked up a napkin and began twisting it between his hands tensely, "But why would you want to? I don't understand what's in this for you."
Havoc put his cigarette back in his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. Wouldn't do to explain his latent frustration with the female species to someone as charmingly naive as Fury. He doubted the younger man would appreciate being subject to some sort of sick social experiment designed solely to prove that Colonel Roy Mustang was not the only man in town women were willing to date.
It especially wouldn't be wise to tell Fury that he only wanted to play Matchmaker to prove that he did indeed, despite all contrary evidence, knew what women wanted. Instead, Havoc grinned lopsidedly and reached over the table to give Fury a friendly pat on the shoulder, "Hey, buddy. I just want to do something nice for you."
Fury twisted his mouth as if he were about to say something, but instead sighed and went back to eating his sandwhich.
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The first woman was named Margaret. She had bushy red hair and a face full of freckles, but she was still very pretty in that quiet, unassuming way. She liked rare flowers, large dogs and classicalqliterature. Havoc supposed that she might have been his type, but he'd been so desperate these days that practically any woman could be considered his type.
When asked what he liked in a woman, Fury shrugged meekly, turned his gaze towards the ground and proceeded to engage in unnervingly awkward body language. Havoc decided that he would simply have to try every sort of woman he could get his hands on before Fury finally figured it out.
Although Margaret may not have been Fury's type, Fury was certainly hers. She gushed over his hair, over his humble intelligence, over his military uniform. Havoc ghosted around them at the appropiately fancy restaurant and even caught her laughing (sincerely! Havoc knew a sincere laugh when he saw one- which was never) at his understated (and purportedly lame) sense of humour. With a smug sense of satisfaction, Havoc decided to catch a cab home and celebrate a job well done with a tall shot of vodka.
The next day when Fury entered the office, closing the door gently behind him, Havoc leaned over and elbowed him in the side.
"Soo, how'd it go kid?"
"How did what go?"
"The date. With Margaret."
Fury furrowed his brow, "Oh. That. Uh... it went."
Havoc raised an eyebrow, "Did you kiss her?" Fury shook his head, "Do you have a second date at least?" once again, the answer was negative, "What did you do? Make her pay the bill or something?"
"N-no! Of course not!" Fury replied, mildly offended.
"Then what went wrong?" Havoc demanded.
"Uh, not my type?" Fury smiled softly, as if he were keeping a secret. Havoc made a vaguely frustrated noise in the back of his throat. So Fury didn't like quiet, delicate women. That was fine- next time he'd go for the exact opposite. Even if it didn't work out, it would at least narrow the playing field.
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Juniper was loud, boisterous and bossy. She had a long tail of golden hair that she kept in a loose braid and a curiously refined dress sense. She liked fine wines, Ishbalian music and military history. Havoc didn't bother to shadow this date, but he did tackle Fury the moment he walked in the door the next morning.
"Sooo..."
Fury frowned.
"Let me guess. She didn't want to see you again."
"Oh no. It wasn't that. She tried to kiss me and everything. I just-"
"Nevermind," Havoc waved dismissively, "We'll just go back to the drawing board. It's only been two days- we've got the rest of the week, right?"
Fury laughed weakly, "Yeah. Right."
Ursula was an opera singer with a head full of chestnut curls and a creative way of doing her makeup. Primera was small, frail, white blonde and an utterly brilliant civilian alchemist specializing in biological chemistry. Ruth was a fiery redhead who owned a bakery downtown and had earned nation-wide fame for her culinary creations. Fury didn't seem to appreciate any of them for the elegant, rare creatures of beauty and poise that they were. These were, afterall, the kind of women Roy Mustang would date.
Lilandra was a proffesor of modern history at the Central University. She liked everything that Fury liked (machines, adventure fiction, animals) and managed to be outgoing enough to keep conversations afloat while still remaining relatively unthreatening. If she wasn't the perfect woman for Fury, Havoc was going to shove his head in the nearest public toilet and flush several dozen times until God saw it fit to put him out of his misery.
Just as he was about to leave for his (sixth) date, Fury paused in the doorway of Havoc's apartment and stared at the floor. Havoc halted and watched him curiously before asking, "What's wrong?"
"Uhhh..." Fury began apprehensively, "Second Lieutenent... er... Jean... there's probably something I should have mentioned before you... well... before you set me up on all those dates. Something important."
Havoc frowned, "What?"
Fury giggled anxiously and folded his hands behind his back, "W-well, it was very nice of you and all but I... uh, I kinda.." and here he trailed off into a murmer. Havoc's frown deepened and he leaned forwards, narrowing his eyes at the younger officer.
"Sorry, Sargent, didn't quite catch that."
"I like men!" Fury exclaimed suddenly, snapping his head up and immediately blushing as he met Havoc's gaze.
The second Lieutenant took this with a deadpan expression and a slow exhalation of smoke, "Ah." he said quietly, "I understand."
"So, you see. You don't really need to find me a date because-"
"In that case," Havoc interrupted, "I'm going to find you a boyfriend."
Fury didn't say anything for a moment. When he did speak, it was a mortified sputter accompanied by an absolutely scandalized facial expresion, "You can't be serious."
"I don't break promises." Havoc replied smoothly.
"Don't you think this is a little far to go for a simple favour?" Fury wondered helpessly.
"Oh, this isn't a simple favour, Fury." Havoc muttered cryptically, adding a silent ammendum, This is war.
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It proved a more difficult task that Havoc would have imagined. Sure, people were more liberal about this sort of thing than when he was young, but it still didn't seem like a terribly wise idea to go up to a random man on the street and say: "Good day sir, I was just wondering if you happened to have any homosexual urges you were determined to act on anytime soon, and if you would be willing to express them with my dear friend who also has similar urges" Especially not if those men happened to be proud members of the Amestris military.
So, here Havoc was presented with the problem of finding Fury a male date by the end of the day (it was, afterall, not yet the end of the week) without getting himself killed.
Fortunately, he was (when he wanted to be) a surprisingly clever man. Through many vague questions and (hopefully) subtle hints, Havoc's search led him to none other than Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist.
Havoc probably never would have guessed that Ed was gay (something about his rampart attempts to prove his inherent "macho-factor" despite his small stature and girly hairdo probably should have tipped him off), but once he heard the illustrious tale of Psiren and Ed's magical indifference to the female anatomy, Havoc was convinced.
It took him a while to track the boy down and when he did, Edward was, predictably, with his brother. Havoc looked back and forth between them blankly before saying, "Hey boss, I was wondering if I could speak to you alone for a minute."
Ed leaned back on his heels and shot Havoc a look dripping with incredelousness, "What in the world would you need to talk to me about that's so important Al's not allowed to hear it?"
"It's... a manly talk." Havoc provided, lamely, "For... men."
Ed looked unimpressed. So unimpressed, in fact, that Havoc could not remember seeing anyone look more unimpressed in his entire life, "Al's only a year younger than me, you know." he commented dryly.
"It's military man talk." Havoc added hopefully. Ed sighed, a heavy, displeased sound, but Al placed a hollow hand on Ed's shoulder and said:
"I understand, brother. I'll meet you in the mess hall later."
When he was gone, Ed placed his hands on his hips impatiently and muttered, "Make this quick. I've got a report to issue with that bastard in an hour and I haven't had lunch yet."
Havoc swallowed and nodded resolutely, "So, boss, how would you like to go on a date with a man tonight." tact was never his strong point in situations like this.
Ed's eyes widened and for a moment he dropped the smart-ass-intellectual veneer and looked like nothing more than a teenager shocked-senseless. Finally, he regained his composure enough to glare.
"Do you want me to punch you? Didn't I mention that I hadn't had lunch yet? I'm hardly in the mood for dumb jokes."
"No, I'm serious." Havoc insisted, "I want to set you up on a blind date. You seem kind of stressed out lately. It might be good for you to loosen up and have some fun."
Edward's scowl melted away and his tipped his head thoughfully, "Well I guess you... hey wait, how the hell did you know I was gay!" he clamped his hand over his mouth with a gasp, "I-I mean..."
Havoc decided that this wasn't the time to mention Colonel Mustang's name in conjuction with this subject, since Edward's reaction to the man was hardly a congenial one even on his good days. He shrugged and replied, "Eh, I heard it around." Ed glowered.
"So, uh, ya wanna go?" at this point, Havoc figured he had nothing to lose.
He suffered under a long, sulky and well nigh evil look from the teen before Ed relaxed, and sighed out a surrender, "Eh, depends. Who are you hooking me up with?"
"Well, uh," Havoc shifted awkwardly on his feet- this had to be one of the most uncomfortable conversations he'd ever had in his life, "What's your type?"
Ed pursed his lips thoughtfully for a moment. The twist soon turned into a devious smile, which shifted into a frown, which twisted back into a disgusted expression, "I like men with... strong hands." he said finally.
Havoc blinked, "Strong hands?"
"Yes!" Edward snapped, "Geeze- what's so strange about that?"
Edward was nearly a decade younger than Fury and yet he already knew what he wanted in a man? Havoc shook his head and tried to stop himself from chuckling, "Nothing." he could work with this- Fury was a repair man- an especially talented one at that. His hands were certainly... nimble Nimble could theoretically translate into strong.
"How about... a military man-" Ed made a face at that, but Havoc continued anyways, "An older man, dark haired, good with his hands. Intelligent, quickly rising in the ranks," well, Fury had gotten a promotion a few months back, "And, uh... um... popular with the ladies." this week had proven that at least. By the time he was finished, there was something peculiar about Ed's facial expression. His ears were burning red, his fists were clenched and there was an odd tremble in the boy's lip. "That sound like your type?"
Edward nodded stiffly, as if the action were causing him indescribable pain, "Yeah." he said darkly, "That would be it. Exactly."
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"Say, Second Lieutenant. Fullmetal seemed to be behaving strangely during debriefing today." Roy noted conversationally on the drive home, "I saw you talking to him earlier. You wouldn't have, perchance, noticed anything."
Havoc was still too drunk on his own brilliance to really register what the Colonel was saying, "Nope, sir. The boss seemed right as rain."
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"You know you really don't have to do this, Havoc." Fury made one last ditch attempt to escape his inevitable fate. Havoc stuck his tongue out as he finished knotting Fury's bowtie.
"No, kid. I really do."
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It was by far the shortest date of the week. Edward stepped out of the car, having been oddly quiet and pensive for the entire trip, took one look at Fury and calmly asked, "What the shit is this?"
Fury took one look at Edward and exclaimed, "Havoc! He's only fifteen years old!"
Edward continued, "This is embarassing! When you said dark haired military man, I thought..."
Fury wrung his hands together, "Isn't this technically illegal?"
"You said that he was 'good with the ladies'! I thought..." Ed's words were swallowed by his howl of incoherent rage, "Oh, screw it. I don't even want you to know what the hell I thought. I'm going home!" and with that pronouncement, he did so.
Havoc watched him stomp off furiously and suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks, "Oh." he said aloud, "He has a crush on the Colonel."
Beside him Fury smothered a titter. He was blushing when Havoc looked at him, "Why are you looking at me like that?" the younger soldier wondered, lacing his fingers together nervously, "I mean, who wouldn't have a crush on the Colonel. He's just so-" Fury noticed the twitch that was forming in the corner of Havoc's left eye and wisely cut himself off with a cough, "I mean, I should probably head home. We have drill practice at five AM sharp tommorow!"
However, Havoc had stopped listening, "It just can't be true..." he muttered under his breath as he followed Fury to the Taxi stop. Not only did all the women love him, all the men did too!The moment he got home, Havoc was going to pour himself an extra tall glass of vodka. And then he was going to seriously consider leaping out the window. Hopefully, the four story fall would mercifully end his suffering.
the end.