Title: cooking fun with Ed and Roy

Rating: pg-10 for Ed's 'vocabulary'

Pairings/characters: Edward, Alphonse, Roy, Breda, Havoc

Word count: 498

Warnings: none, except for my slightly twisted sense of humor.

Summary: Ed, Al, Mustang, Breda and Havoc need to learn to cook.

Dedication: Ookami. 'Cause it's her birthday present :D

Prompt: 'cooking lessons'

A/N: err… the prompt was 'cooking lessons' but I have a feeling this didn't actually end up sounding at all like what the prompter meant. But it's still kinda funny.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal alchemist

"You know, you look really stupid in that apron."

Mustang glared balefully at Ed, before glancing down self-consciously at the offending garment draped over his front. The worst part was that he actually agreed with the Fullmetal alchemist; he looked like a complete idiot. But then, so did ed. and havoc and Breda who were also present and very, very unhappy. The only one who didn't look odd was Al (and why that was, nobody really knew. For some reason he could just pull off wearing an apron.).

"Hey chief, do you want to tell us again why we're in the kitchens wearing a type of clothing way beyond 'un-manly'?" havoc whined as he dug out some random pots and pans from a drawer.

Mustang sighed. "It is to learn a skill needed to survive in case we find ourselves separated from any outposts or military bases during service." Like they were going to have access to a fully furnished kitchen if that happened.

"Yippee." Breda muttered from the pantry.

"Heh. If that's all we here for, then me and Al are out of here!" Ed crowed, immediately beginning to untie his apron " we learned how to catch and cook our own food years ago!"

"It's true." Al admitted, "I don't think eating is really a problem"

Mustang grimaced as he pulled out the recipe book he'd been looking for "yes, well, I don't think it's finding food that's a problem for any of us. It's the 'cooking' part that they're making us learn."

The other three soldiers (plus one civilian) stared. Mustang glared back.

"Look, I didn't come up with it! Havoc, switch on the burner, will you? Ok, I was instructed to use this recipe… to teach us all… how to make a flambé."

"Wait a second. You want us to make a FLAMBE!? When th' hell are we ever going to need to make something like that?" Ed burst out.

"Never." Breda said calmly. Al seemed to frown.

"Not true. I mean, something like this could come in handy one day. Like, let's see…ummm… you could…"

"You could have a hot date and impress her with your amazing cooking skills!" havoc answered, suddenly much happier. Breda rolled his eyes.

"Pfft. I bet Colonel Bastard chose that specifically because it sounds like it has the word 'flame' in it." Ed growled.

Mustang felt indignant at that. Just because it was slightly true didn't mean he'd let Ed get away with it.

"Hey Fullmetal, can you grab that sugar off the counter? Or do you need a chair so you can reach?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A GRAIN OF SUGAR SO SMALL HE"D GET LOST IN THE TREADS OF YOUR BOOTS!?" ed screamed, lunging forward to attack his superior. Mustang calmly pulled on one of his ignition gloves to singe the edge of Ed's (very stupid and un-manly looking) apron.

In retrospect, turning on a gas stove ahead of time was not so good an idea.