A/N: I am a bad, bad person. You probably don't care. You're probably thinking something along the lines of "oh, poor person with no life, I shall click on her story out of pity and then I shall sue her for a million billion dollars when my eyes bleed and explode." But I'm going to say it anyway.

See, I shouldn't even be writing this. I already have two stories that I should be working on in the Tales of Symphonia fandom. Stories I haven't even touched for, like, a month. Or two. Plus, I'm participating in NaNoWriMo. But I'm gonna write this anyway.

Wanna know why? Of course you don't. But I'll tell you anyway. It's because of the plot bunnies. The evil, terrible plot bunnies. Yep. Plus, now my profile won't say "this author is so freakin' lame, she's only written stories of ToS hahahah looooooser." Nope. Because I will now have ONE STORY in a different fandom. I am just that badass.

Anyway. Lengthy author's note. If your eyes bleed, please don't sue me. You have been warned.


A certain colonel known as Roy Mustang had a problem.

Yes. You see, a certain short (or not so short, it depended on whether or not you were the size of an ant) and blond alchemist hadn't showed up to work. In five days. Now, this would not usually be a problem, but this certain colonel was bored, and he needed something other than the demonic paperwork (work of the devil, surely) to amuse him. Because, really, demonic paperwork was not amusing.

As such, Mustang was now contemplating calling Edward Elric's home phone. Yes. Because this would be much more interesting than paperwork. And would probably end in a snarling, swearing alchemist coming to his office. Which meant that he wouldn't have to do paperwork, at least for awhile.

Cheering silently, convinced all his problems were solved, Roy dialed with renewed vigor.

"What."

The familiar voice that answered the phone was decidedly grumpy. Swallowing most of his cheerfulness and joy, Roy said, "Good morning, Fullmetal. Care to explain why you're not in the office?"

"What the—what the fuck's the time?"

"One twenty one," Roy said, joy diminished quite a bit. If that Fullmetal brat had been sleeping…

"Too early," came the sigh on the other end. "Go back to sleep, Mustang."

"One twenty one in the afternoon! Get in here!"

There was a pause. "Well, don't you know it, but I just came down with a cold."

Roy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Oh, you did, did you."

"Oh. Yeah. It's really bad. Everything's really colorful and spinning and stuff. I think I have a fever. I could die."

"Drugs aren't good for you, Fullmetal."

"Oh, and I'm sure you'd know."

"Look, unless you've got some terminal illness, get over here!"

"It's very terminal."

"Uh huh."

"I really need to get back. To my roommate. Or report, or bed, or research, or, you know, all four. Bye!"

"Now wait a—you have a roommate? Does Al know about this?"

"Of course he does," Edward scoffed. "What, do you think he's stupid or something? They actually get along quite well. In fact, they're making me homemade chicken soup right now, and I really should—"

There was an explosion in the background, a scream, and a snarled "Fuck, it exploded!"

Roy frowned. He could have sworn he'd heard that voice before…

"So use a fire extinguisher!" Ed shouted.

"What fire extinguisher?"

"I don't know! I assume we have one, but—"

"Aaaaagh! I'm on fire, I'm on fire!"

"Stop, drop and roll, Al! Stop, drop, and roll!"

After a few minutes of screaming and yelling in the background, Edward returned to the phone. "Sorry about that. Env—uh…Env…Envita! Yeah. That's her name. She's not a very good cook. Anyway, I'm feeling faint, and I think I might die, so I'm just gonna go now. Bye!"

"Now wait just a minute, you—"

Click.

Roy glared hatefully at the phone in his hand.

That just settled it.

He was going over to Edward's house and demanding that the obviously-not-really-sick idiot get his butt over here and keep him from his paperwork.


"Envita? Envita? What the hell kind of name is that?"

"Hey, you try coming up with a name that starts with 'Env' on the spot! It's not that easy!"

"Envita? You made me an Envita?"

Envy was scowling—seething, actually. Edward shrugged.

"Just think of it as payback for setting my brother on fire."

"I'm okay now, brother…and I'm sure he didn't really mean to. Right, Envy?"

"Oh, sure." Envy snorted. "If it had been that idiot colonel, though, it would have been on purpose."

"I wouldn't have made up the name 'Envita' for you then."

Al gave them both a very disapproving look. "No setting the colonel on fire."

Edward and Envy exchanged a look and sighed.

Alphonse never let them do anything fun.


When the knock came on the door, Al and Edward had already gone off, to the store or something. Envy hadn't really been paying attention. He vaguely remembered them saying something along the lines of "Don't burn the house down" and "Don't cause any disasters at all, actually." Which sounded like a fairly good plan.

Envy stood on his toes and glanced through the peephole in the door. He almost squealed with excitement upon seeing that it was Roy Mustang. He had the perfect, perfect thing for this situation! Besides, Alphonse and Edward hadn't said anything about torturing (figuratively, of course; they'd already forbidden him from torturing or killing anyone) a certain colonel.

Skipping (yes, skipping), Envy picked up a vial of liquid, squinted at it, then grinned quite evilly. Yes, this was definitely the right one.


When Edward entered the house, the first thing that caught his eye was the toddler on the couch.

"Um…Envy…would you happen to know anything about the toddler on the couch? You didn't kidnap anyone, did you?"

Envy's grin was a bit too happy, and a bit too wide. "Nope!"

"Is that a nope to you knowing anything about it—um, him—or about you kidnapping anyone? Please say both."

"Oh, I know who it is," Envy said offhandedly.

"Okay, who is it?"

"Roy Mustang."

There was a moment of silence. Then Ed pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Now, see, that's really funny. Because I could have sworn you just said—"

"He's Mustang."

Alphonse, sensing his exit cue, hummed a little tune and picked up the groceries, mumbling, "Well, gosh, you know, I think I should go put these groceries away now…"

"Okay, Envy. Okay." Edward had learned that it helped to stay calm when Envy presented him with a ridiculous situation. Taking a few extra deep breaths for good measure. "So, you're saying that that toddler, right there, is Mustang."

Envy nodded cheerfully.

"Which is a bit impossible, considering he's definitely, like, twenty-five years older than that."

"Nope," Envy said. "I used a magic potion on him."

Now, most people would laugh and call this ridiculous. Of course, those people didn't really know Envy. Edward, however, did know Envy, and did know that this was probably not a joke of any sort. No matter how hilarious it would seem later.

"Oh, really? Where did you get the recipe for this magic potion? Or did you just make it from scratch?"

"Of course I didn't make it from scratch. Do I look like a wizard to you? I made it from this." Envy then held up a book titled '101 easy black magic spells and potions: for beginners! Third edition.'

Ed stared at for a moment. "I don't suppose you made an antidote?"

"Nope."

"I don't suppose there is an antidote?"

"Uh huh. Page 301."

Ed snatched the book from Envy and flipped through the pages. 284…306…303…299.

He stared. "There's no 301."

"Well, of course not. I tore it out."

Edward's head collided with the book. "Okay, where did you put it?"

"In the paper shredder."

There was a moment of silence as Edward stared at his boyfriend. "You put it in the paper shredder?" he all but screamed.

Envy nodded cheerfully. "Uh huh."

"Why? Why in hell would you think that this could be even remotely a good idea? Well, Envy? I'm waiting!"

"I didn't think I'd ever need it."

Edward took several deep breaths. Envy sounded too…too…too reasonable about all this. "So, let me get this straight," he said calmly. "You basically poisoned my superior officer—"

"It was pretty much an accident."

"Pretty much?" Edward repeated, looking skeptically at Envy. "How so, 'pretty much?'"

"Well, I admit I might have made myself look like his mother, knocked him out with a frying pan, and forced the vial down his throat, but…"

"You knocked him out with a frying pan?"

"Only after I messed with his head a little."

"How did you mess with his—no, never mind. I don't want to know." Edward massaged his temples. "Envy, this is a problem. You see, when my superior officer is a toddler, he can't do his work."

Envy nodded. "Which would be a problem if he actually did any work."

"He does do—okay, whatever, fine. You're right. But you see, tomorrow we're getting an inspection done. When he doesn't show up—or, worse, shows up as a toddler—do you know what's going to happen?"

"The gun lady's going to have a hissy fit?"

"Yes, Envy. She is. You know what else will happen?"

"You'll get shot?"

"No, Envy, I will not. I will get fired. Now, this job pays for food. Food that I happen to eat. Do you know what happens when I—or Al—do not eat?"

"You complain loudly?"

"No, we die. See, that's the funny thing about being a human. If you don't eat, you die!"

"Well, that's a problem."

"Yes, it is. Also, I won't be able to mooch off my coworkers—because I will not have coworkers. Do you see the problem now?"

"Oh." Envy considered this. "Well, that sucks."

"Yes, it does."

"Well, it should wear off in a week or something. He'll age or whatever, so…"

"Meaning tomorrow he won't be a toddler?"

"He'll probably be ten or so. No big deal."

"Yes, I'm sure no one will notice that!"

"You worry too much. I'll just pretend to be him. Relax. I've got it covered." Envy grinned. "I think I deserve a kiss now."

"Let me get this straight—you basically poisoned my superior officer, messed with his head, could be responsible for me getting fired, you intentionally destroyed the antidote, you think that it might be a good idea to pretend to be said superior officer and just hope no one notices how much more capable he suddenly is, and you think you deserve a kiss?"

Envy nodded enthusiastically, still grinning.

"You are so sleeping on the couch tonight."

"Aww, Edo, you don't mean that."

"Don't mean that? How do you figure?"

Envy grinned. "Because I know you don't want to sleep with your superior officer, even if he is a toddler at the time. And there are no extra beds."

Edward considered that. "Fuck," he said.

And at that exact moment, Roy awoke, looked at himself, and screamed in a rather hilariously squeaky voice, "Why the hell am I a kid again?"


A/N: All who review receive toddler!Roy cookies. Or maybe cupcakes. Mmm, cupcakes. Or cakes. Ooh, or, or a cake with cupcakes on top and cookies on top of the cupcakes. Yeah. It'll rock and be badass. Reviews are love. Also, I no own.