This is a one-shot that I've been playing around with in my head for a few weeks.

Rated T for sexual and drug-related themes.

Takes place three years after the Promised Day.

The man laughed, in hysterics, as Edward punched him across the face again.

"Brother, stop!" Al pleaded. "We still need to find out-" Edward's elbow collided with Al's face as he brought his arm back for another swing.

"He's a villain, Al! A terrorist!"

The man laughed again. "Don't even try to reason with him! Now that the powder is in his system, he has no choice but to mindlessly act on his most aggressive impulses!" Edward's fist made contact with his mouth, sending blood and a tooth onto his frayed military uniform. "Soon, all of the military higher-ups will be ripping each other apart! Even that newly-promoted general you always seem to be working with, Fullmetal!"

Al was beginning to panic, looking for a way that would distract Edward without harming him. He spotted a hose in the corner of the warehouse and ran over to grab it. Pointing the nozzle at his brother, he prayed that the rush of water would distract Edward for a long enough period for Al to restrain him. He twisted the faucet.

Edward sputtered as a stream of water hit his face. "Al! What the hell are you doing!" He turned to face Al, still holding the man by his uniform collar. He paused for a moment, his eyes widening as realization dawned on him, before another stream of water hit his face again. He held up his hand to block the water. "Al, stop! Turn it off! I'm not going to hit him anymore!"

Al lowered the hose.

Edward turned back to the former military officer, who was no longer laughing. "Water?" Ed smirked, triumphant. "You bring a powdered drug all the way back from Xing so that you can have your revenge on the military for exiling you, aiming to have officers literally rip each other to pieces, and the way to stop it is water?"

The man pressed his lips into a thin line. "It's too late to stop it; I've already sent it out. Once they've breathed it in, there's no way they'll figure out how to rid themselves of what's come over them." He grinned. "Chances are, the members of the upper brass have already succumbed to the powder by now! You'll never get to Central Command in time. It's going to be a bloodbath!"

Edward threw him down against the wall. "Al, can you restrain him with alchemy? We have to get to headquarters."

Al nodded, clapping his hands together and forming a cage around the man. "Are you worried about what General Mustang might do? He is the Flame Alchemist, after all. That could be pretty dangerous."

Edward scratched the back of his head as they walked out of the warehouse. "Nah. The only thing I can see him taking out his aggression on is his paperwork. So, he'll either set that on fire, or the whole building. But I don't think he'd go after a particular officer. Sure, he wants to be Fuhrer, but I doubt that the thought of hurting Grumman has every crossed his mind. They're pretty close. Honestly, I'm more worried about Captain Hawkeye."

"Why? Because a fire would put her in danger?"

Edward shook his head. "Nah, she can take care of herself. But she usually goes through Mustang's mail before handing it off to him, and there's a risk that she'll be the one to inhale the drug."

Al's eyes widened. "And if she's suddenly overcome with mindless aggression, then…"

"Then hopefully Mustang hasn't done anything to piss the Captain off recently."

The two started running toward headquarters, shielding the setting sun from their eyes.

Captain Hawkeye walked into General Mustang's office, mail in hand. She shut the door behind her and approached her commanding officer.

Mustang slid a stack of papers toward Hawkeye as she walked toward him, leaning back in his chair with a smirk on his face. "That's the last of it. Can we go now?"

"Not yet, sir. There were some forms in your mailbox that should be filled out." She set the pile of mail down in front of him.

Mustang sighed. "It's bad enough that we had to stay so late after the rest of headquarters left at noon for the holiday weekend." He picked his pen back up, resigned. "If I had known that they were going to pile even more work on, I wouldn't have let the rest of the team go early." He fingered through the envelopes in front of him, all already carefully opened by Hawkeye. She knew him too well; there was no way he could conveniently "lose" any of the forms if she already knew their contents. He paused at one of the envelopes. "You didn't open this one?"

Hawkeye nodded. "It seems to be more of a… personal letter. I thought it more appropriate not to investigate it."

Mustang could see why - it looked like a love letter. The "O" in "Roy" had been replaced by a heart, the handwriting curly and feminine. A secret admirer, perhaps? He grinned as he slid his letter opener under the seal, eager to see its contents. He pulled out the card, his eyes briefly registering the flecks of powder that fell onto his desk as he did so. He caught the whiff of a floral smell, and sniffed the card. It had been sprayed with perfume. He read the message out loud, knowing Hawkeye would want to know what it said despite her feigned disinterest.

"'Your move, Flame Alchemist.'"

Panic seized Mustang as he hastily dropped the card, finally processing the presence of the powder.

"Sir, is something wrong?"

"Stay back, Hawkeye!" He wiped at his nose, but the room was already spinning. He sneezed, dropping out of his chair and onto the floor. His eyes lost and regained focus; colors became more vibrant. Everything became sharper, more angled.

Captain Hawkeye rushed over to him, dropping to his side. His eyes focused on her face, something soft in a world of harsh edges. "Tell me what's wrong, General!"

He reached up and touched her cheek. "Captain… Riza." He smiled, flicking his eyes over her crouched form that hovered above him. Then he frowned. "Where's your skirt?"

"What?"

Mustang grabbed her shoulders, forcing her onto the floor with a shove. He quickly straddled her. "Where's the miniskirt I asked you to wear today?"

"In my closet, where it will stay. Sir, this is highly inappropriate! We are still at headquarters!" She struggled beneath him, trying free herself.

Mustang leaned down, pinning her shoulders to the floor. His eyes had taken on a gray haze, reminiscent of his former blindness. "I don't care." He firmly pressed his lips against hers.

Hawkeye bit him. As he recoiled, shocked, she pushed him off of her and tried to stand. "You're not yourself, Roy!" Strong arms clasped around her waist, trying to pull her down again. She grabbed hold of the desk, boosting herself up. She reached for anything on the desk that she might use to defend herself, knocking the papers off in the process. A rain of powder fell onto her head as she accidentally grabbed the phony love letter. She sneezed.

It took her half a second to process that this must be the source of the general's strange behavior, and to realize that she likely didn't have long before she was likewise affected. She had to get out. With a surge of strength, she broke free of Mustang and rushed across the office. Her fingers only brushed the door handle before she collapsed. She watched dizzily from the floor as Mustang slowly stalked toward her, one step at a time.

Once Mustang crouched beside her, she pounced. Her lips met his as they hungrily drank each other in, her on top and him beneath her. She hastily clawed at the front of his uniform, releasing the buttons and spreading it open. She ran her fingers down the front of his thin undershirt, making him shudder under her touch.

Mustang reached up and ripped the clip from Hawkeye's hair, causing her to cry out. Her hair tumbled down around them, framing their faces in gold. He flipped her over, interrupting her struggle with the buttons of his undershirt. He grinned down, catching his breath.

"I thought you said, 'Never in the office?' That you wanted to keep our business and personal lives separate?" He yanked her uniform open, letting her push it the rest of the way off before tossing it across the room. He leaned down and sucked at the hollow of her neck, right below her jaw.

"I lied." She dragged her nails against his scalp, enjoying his silky onyx hair between her fingers.

He moaned as he felt for the bottom of her turtleneck. He broke his face away from her to pull it over her head. He brought his lips back to hers, nipping at her bottom lip until he tasted blood.

Hawkeye pushed his face away, their hazed eyes meeting. "My desk first. Then yours." She hooked her legs around Mustang's waist as he stood, carrying her over to her desk across the room. He brushed off the neatly-stacked piles of finished paperwork that they had spent the day on, sending them flying all over the room. He set her down, beginning to fumble with the buttons of her pants as she ripped his shirt the rest of the way open, pushing it off of his shoulders and on top of the fallen paperwork. Mustang pinned Hawkeye back against the top of her desk, still struggling with the button of her pants.

At which point Edward Elric stormed in.

"General, don't open any mail that looks susp-!" The three looked at each other in shock. It took Edward three seconds to fly across the room and punch Mustang in the jaw, sending him crashing to the floor. "Stay away from the Captain, you monster!" He turned to Hawkeye, speaking quickly. "He's being influenced by a drug that was in his mail! It makes people act on aggressive impulses." He noticed her shirt on the floor and went to retrieve it. "Al's getting water right now to undo the effects. Mustang didn't hurt you did he?" Edward turned back to Hawkeye to hand back her shirt, and found himself looking down the barrel of her pistol. "Captain?"

"Get out, Edward." Hawkeye stood, forcing Edward back toward the door of the office as she held her gun steady with his face. Mustang had returned to his feet, and moved to stand beside Hawkeye.

Edward's eyes flickered between the two of them, still trying to process what he had walked in on. He nodded to himself. "There are multiple forms of aggression," he commented. "It figures that the two of you, pent up together all day, wouldn't have violent urges toward one another." Guided by Hawkeye's gun, they had almost forced him out of the office.

"Out, Fullmetal."

"You'll both regret it if I let you continue."

"We're consenting adults. We can handle ourselves." Mustang reached for the door, preparing to shut it in Edward's face.

"You're both under the influence of a drug - there's nothing consensual about this!" Edward spat back at the general. "Somehow you both breathed it in, but what if only one of you had? This is bad!" Edward took half a step out of the office.

"This doesn't concern you."

Edward took a deep breath. "Now, Al!"

Cold water splashed across the faces of General Mustang and Captain Hawkeye, their eyes widening in shock. Al immediately followed the first bucket of water with a second.

Hawkeye dropped her gun, horrified. She hastily grabbed the shirt that Edward held out to her as he carefully averted his gaze. She glanced up at the general as she pulled it on, who still stood there in shock. He slowly turned his head to look down at her.

"I almost-"

"But you didn't, sir."

"But-"

"I would have shot you in the leg if I hadn't fallen victim to the powder as well, sir."

Mustang sighed and pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her hair. "I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

Edward shifted awkwardly where he stood. "So, the powder…"

Mustang released his captain. "Yes, the powder. How did you know?"

"Well, it's a long story. Al and I saw this guy in a raggedy Amestrian military uniform as we were leaving a pub, and decided to follow him. He just didn't look like he was up to any good, and he had this weird smile. So we followed him to this abandoned warehouse in the warehouse district. He immediately put a mask on when he walked in, and we thought that was odd. Thinking back on it, we probably should have put masks on, too." Edward frowned. "But he had these four small crates, all filled with this powder. A giant warehouse, empty except for the small crates."

"Well, did you find out who he is?" Mustang rubbed his chin, processing the story.

"A former general of Amestris, exiled by Fuhrer Grumman for being involved with the homunculi during the Promised Day ordeal. He planned to send the powder out to the military higher-ups and let them rip each other apart." Edward shrugged. "I don't think he knew that the government would get out early for the holiday."

"So he's a crazed idiot hell-bent on revenge?"

"Pretty much."

"How did you find out his plan?"

"I accidentally breathed the powder in and wailed on his face. He revealed everything while I beat him up. That he smuggled the drug in from Xing. That it causes people to act on their most basic of aggressive urges in the most extreme manner." Edward coughed as he looked at the two officers in front of them, remembering what he had walked in on.

"Where is he, now?"

"Restrained in the warehouse."

"And you thought to immediately rush to my office why?"

Edward and Al shuffled their feet. "We thought that Captain Hawkeye might inhale it while checking your mail and then shoot you to death, General," Al muttered.

Mustang nodded, noticing the smile that Hawkeye was attempting to hide. He looked back at the Elrics. "Retrieve the man and take him to Central Prison, where we will deal with him after the weekend. Captain Hawkeye and I will hunt down the envelopes containing the powder."

"What about the crates?"

"Throw them in the river."

"Right." Edward and Al both nodded. "We'll see you again on Tuesday, then." They turned to leave. "Oh, and one more thing."

"What is it, Fullmetal?"

"Put a damn shirt on! People will think that you're taking after Major Armstrong!" Edward snickered and ran, Al close behind him.

Mustang rolled his eyes. "He never changes."

Hawkeye smiled, turning back into the office to track down her uniform jacket and hair clip. "He cares about us." She picked up her hair clip, which had snapped into two pieces. "This is the second one this week that you've broken, sir." She tossed it into the wastebasket.

Mustang grinned and rolled his eyes again, pulling his undershirt on. He let it hang loose, noticing that half of the buttons were torn off. He pulled her into a hug. "I can't wait to go home and not have to call each other by military titles for three days."

Hawkeye pulled away and began to pick up the scattered paperwork. "There's still a lot of straightening up to do here first, General Mustang. And then we need to track down those envelopes. We can start in the mail room, but some of the officers have mail delivered directly to their offices."

Mustang let out a groan as he crouched down to join her in picking up the forms. They straightened the office up silently for a few minutes.

"You know, we came pretty close to breaking your rule today."

"I can think of many rules that we almost broke. To which one are you referring?"

"No sex in the office. Keeping our personal romance out of our business lives."

"We were drugged."

"But maybe in the future?"

Hawkeye stood, her brow raised. She set the gathered papers down on her desk. "We'll see."

(Please tell me if you thought it was bad/good!)