Author's Notes: I'm so happy that stupidsexymustang asked me to write some Havolina and then I randomly came across some post on tumblr talking about "spite dates". After mentioning it to her how perfect it would be for these two, I couldn't help but write it and it worked out for the prompt anyways. The prompt was Jean/Rebecca + "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"

Disclaimer: Not mine!

Date Night

It wasn't very often that Jean went out on his own. Normally, he had at least one of the boys with him, Breda usually, but sometimes he was able to carouse Falman or Fuery into coming out with him, even the Colonel every now and then. After all, Jean was a social person by nature. He genuinely like people. He was the kind of guy that could walk into a crowd of strangers and end up talking to four of them in an hour about various topics. Now, he knew that he wasn't as charming as Mustang, strong as Breda, adorable as Fuery, or smart as Falman - but he knew his strengths.

Jean knew that he was a good person. He was cheerful and cheeky and people tended to gravitate towards him. It took him a little longer than it did Mustang, but it happened. Hawkeye had actually been the one to point that Jean was simply a good-natured man and that was one of his greatest strengths. He typically smiled and he laughed often. He held doors open for people, treated his bartenders and servers with unfailing kindness, and helped out others when he could, even when he was off-duty.

Sure, he was a little down on his luck when it came to romance - and he couldn't see why if he was as nice or good as Hawkeye said he was (and she was the toughest critic) - but he liked that goodness about himself. It was never false or a ruse. He might pine hopelessly after a girl for a bit, but if she didn't return his affections, he didn't bother her and he didn't become resentful towards her. That was just plain rude and stupid, and he wasn't that dumb.

Tonight, however, Jean found himself alone. He didn't mind. For however social he was, even he needed some time to himself every now and then. He just didn't like that alone time being in his small apartment. This particular bar was one of his favorites. It served some of the best pub food in town and it was inexpensive. Sure, it wasn't in the best part of town, but for all the dinginess outside, the inside looked pretty nice. Next to no bar fights, great music, bartenders that knew when you wanted to chat and when you didn't, different beers on draft, and pretty girls all about. Jean couldn't really ask for more on his night off.

That was until the only other empty barstool next to him was occupied by a gorgeous brunette.

Jean knew who the new bar patron was the next she sat next to him. He caught a whiff of her familiar scent of rose perfume and strawberry shampoo, and spotted her curly brown hair in the corner of his eyes. Upon turning his head slightly, he saw her profile, pale skin, cute nose, rosy cheeks, and slight frown. Yup, it was definitely her. Even better she didn't seem to have noticed just who she'd sat next to at the bar. Of course, he was out of uniform, had a hat on that was covering his eyes, and was sitting by himself.

Sitting next to him was none other than Rebecca Catalina, Hawkeye's best friend and perhaps his worst enemy, although he hadn't a clue why. (It could've had to do with what had happened the last time they'd crossed paths at a bar. But he'd been drunk and he had tried to apologize later on. No, being drunk wasn't an excuse, but then, she hadn't seemed terribly off-put by his actions.)

From the way she was sighing and huffing, he could tell that she'd had a rough day at work. In fact, she hadn't even changed out of uniform. She wore similar clothes to Hawkeye, though her undershirt was brown and she wore a thin gold necklace that looked like it had been a gift. Jean frowned at that. Did she have a boyfriend or something? He could've sworn Hawkeye grumbled about Rebecca dragging her out last week on a "manhunt".

"I'll have a double whiskey, neat, and your strongest beer on draft," Rebecca told the bartender when he arrived.

Jean raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing and continued to sip on his beer. When the bartender returned with her drinks, she thanked him and immediately downed the whiskey like it was nothing. Both men seemed surprised by that, but she didn't even bat an eye. It must have been more than a rough day.

As Rebecca started to fish some money out of her pocket, Jean waggled a finger at the bartender. "You can put it on my tab and another round for me, please, thank you." The bartender, James, gave him a studious look, but Jean just grinned back at the man. He shook his head, but did as Jean asked. Of course he didn't know that Jean knew her; he just assumed that he was trying to pick up a lady that may or may not be hazardous to his health.

Oh, she was definitely the former, but he couldn't seem to help himself.

Rebecca, for her part, jumped up in shock at his voice and turned to gape at him. Jean took his hat off and set it on the hook underneath the bar at his knees. Immediately, she scowled at him, which somehow made her look even cuter. She made such a pout whenever she scowled. "You. What do you think you're going to accomplish buying my drinks?"

Jean shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing, I assume, except lightening my wallet a little bit more."

"Well that's all you better expect," Rebecca proclaimed as she spun back around and picked up her beer. She took a sip of it defiantly. "Why are you here anyways? This is my bar."

"Your bar?" Jean looked around the place. "I wasn't aware you owned the place. What are you doing in the military then if you own such a fine establishment?"

Rebecca turned even more pink in the face. "That's not what I meant and you– Never mind. I live a block over and I know for a fact that you don't live in the area, so this is my neighborhood bar and you're invading my space."

"How do you know where I live?" Jean asked pleasantly. "Stalking is illegal, you know."

"I–" Rebecca gripped her beer tighter. He knew that he shouldn't try to get her worked up, especially if she'd had such a rough day at headquarters, but he couldn't help himself with her. She was just so cute when she got like this. So much for being a good guy, right? "The same could be said of you since you showed up here mysteriously. I always come here on Thursdays."

"What's so terrible about Thursdays?" Jean rather liked the day himself. There were plenty of drink specials.

Rebecca huffed. "General Grumman has meetings with any other General in the area, and they're always so annoying. Plus, not only do I have to do with his usual antics, but then I'm forced to deal with the others'. How such piggish men can climb so high in the military ranks…"

This time, Jean actually frowned. "Piggish? With everyone or just you? What do they do?"

"They're just unseemly, and it's only with the women," Rebecca explained as she nursed her beer. She drank it much slower than she had the whiskey, especially now that she was talking. "The higher up a man is in the military, the more dismissive he is of the female officers, even more so if they're pretty. Do you know what Brigadier General Foch told me today?" Obviously Jean didn't, so he shook his head. Rebecca would've told him anyways even if he had. "The man actually had the gall to tell me that someone so pretty shouldn't worry about guns or the military - that I was going to ruin my chances of getting a man if I was intent on masking my attractiveness in the uniform - that I might emasculate a man. He even laughed and said that my looks probably didn't hurt my recent promotion!"

Honestly, Jean didn't know what to say to all of that. He couldn't believe that anyone, especially a higher up, would be so unprofessional and say such outrageous things. Mustang might go on about wanting female officers to wear mini-skirts, but he didn't for a second believe that they were second to male officers. It was impossible to think that when one shared an office with Riza Hawkeye.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Jean scoffed, unable to hide the aggravation in his voice. How dare anyone say that to her? For all the times they got into it with one another and how he might tease her about finding a man, he knew that she was an excellent soldier and was dedicated to her duty. "Your marksmanship scores were nearly the same as mine and I'm in the top percentile. You're passionate about being in the military. And I don't care how stunning your looks are, they damn well didn't have anything to do with your promotion. Grumman can be kind of a creep, but he doesn't put in for anyone's promotion. Besides, if a man is going to feel emasculated by how incredible of a soldier you are instead of admiring you for it, then they're an asshole and not worth it."

Jean was so worked up himself over the idea of some asshat General saying such ridiculous things to Rebecca that he didn't even notice the way she was gawking at him and blushing. He merely held his beer tightly and stared over it unseeingly, grumbling under his breath. Why, if anyone had ever said anything like that about Hawkeye, Breda and Falman would've probably had to hold him back. Unless it was a lower-ranked officer. Then that man would've been running for the streets. And that wasn't even thinking about what Mustang would've done. He was protective of his subordinates, but none of them came anywhere near to how protective he was of Hawkeye. It would've taken all of them to convince him to put his ignition gloves away.

Clearing her throat in an attempt to bring him out of his thoughts, Rebecca held out a hand. "How about this? For tonight, we have a truce. We don't get into an argument and we attempt to enjoy our time here."

That managed to jerk Jean out of his complaining thoughts. He arched an eyebrow at her hand. "Oh? So you're not going to try to kick me out?"

"Don't tempt me," Rebecca replied.

"Good," Jean said, shaking her hand, "because I'm not leaving until I eat some chili cheese fries."

"Neither am I."

"That settles it then." Jean waved at James. "A large order of chili cheese fries, my good man!"

Rebecca choked a little. "I didn't mean together!"

Jean grinned at her again. "Well you're sitting there and I'm sitting here - we're pretty close together - so it makes sense that we'd share them. It's cheaper that way."

She mumbled something under her breath that sounded a lot "stupid lummox," but she didn't make any further complaints and finally nodded her head. Jean thought himself rather accomplished. And so began the night of their first not-really-a-date. He knew that she would get up in arms about it if he even suggested the thing and he would never call it that unless she gave him expressed permission, but it was still kind of funny to him. Here they were, typically unable to spend five minutes with each other without bickering over something, and now they were having drinks and sharing food at apparently their favorite bar.

But it was most definitely not-an-actual-date.

As far as non-dates went, it was actually a pretty decent night. They spent the night talking on and off and only arguing every once in awhile, but it was nothing major. It mostly came up when he started to tease her again and she would get flustered and smartly snap back at him. There was even some laughter and he managed to make her blush a few more times and she made him smile as well. It was a decidedly strange but good night. At some point in the night, a few other female soldiers from her office showed up and she moved on to hang out with them. That was fine by him. She was under no obligation to stick with him the entire night and he was content to go back to being by himself. It didn't anger him at all.

Just when he was about to settle up his bill, someone sidled into the seat next to him. Jean moved to tell Rebecca that he couldn't possibly afford another round unless she was willing to let him spend the night with her when he realized that it was not Rebecca sitting next to him but a rather gorgeous blonde-haired woman. She was leaning against the bar and smiling at him dazzlingly, her bright blue eyes shimmering the barlight. Wearing a tight-fit black dress, she looked the very definition of tempting, the kind of woman all the guys would've been clamoring over to talk with. He would've admittedly been one of those guys, except for some reason, tonight, he didn't feel in the mood at all.

"Leaving so soon?" the mystery woman asked. "And without talking to me at all?"

"Well, I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting before," Jean pointed out, though not flirtatiously. What was wrong with him? Here was this gorgeous, leggy blonde very willing to be in his company and he could barely the muster the desire to talk with her.

"Alexandra," she replied as held out her hand.

"Jean."

When he took her hand, somewhat awkwardly, she immediately gripped it and stepped closer to him, putting her other thin hand on his arm. "Oh, you're so strong! Are you in the military?"

"I am," he responded without a hint of pomp. "Second Lieutenant."

"My," Alexandra said breathily, "that's very…enticing."

What was wrong with this woman? What was wrong with him? "Er, right." He slowly started to extricate himself from her, but she didn't seem intent on letting him go. The prettiest pout appeared on her face, her eyes damn near begging him to stay. "I really should get going though and I–"

"Excuse me," a furious voice interrupted. Jean turned to find Rebecca standing before them, her arms folded across her chest and a very deep frown on her face. It looks could kill, Jean wasn't sure whether he or Alexandra would be the one to drop dead. Alexandra gave Rebecca a bored and uninterested look before returning her attention back to Jean, who did not look away from the very angry-looking Second Lieutenant. "Excuse me."

"What?" Alexandra demanded.

"You're in my seat," Rebecca pointed out flatly. "Now scram. You can come back to jump Second Lieutenant Havoc's bones when I'm done with my drink."

Apparently the look on Rebecca's face was enough to convince Alexandra that she meant business and the other woman did indeed scram. Jean was surprised that he didn't feel a hint of regret in her leaving him alone; in fact, he felt queerly relieved. That was odd. Rebecca took up her drink that she had left on the bar next to him and plopped down in her seat, angrily drinking it.

"What was that all about?" Jean asked curiously.

"She was in the way of my drink," Rebecca mumbled.

Jean looked back to where Alexandra ran off to, then to Rebecca, and back and forth one more time before it finally hit him and he started to laugh. "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"

"What? No!" Rebecca cried out. "I am not– I would never be–" She slammed her drink down on the bar. "Why would I be jealous?"

"I don't know," Jean said, "except you were having a great time with your friends until you decided to come back to reclaim your seat right when some pretty woman threw herself at me. And I thought for a second you were going to punch her in her face."

Rebecca floundered for a moment, unable to come up with a good enough response. She looked like a fish out of water, sputtering out words and half-assed denials. Really, she wasn't the best of liars. He knew that she was great on field missions from what Hawkeye and a few others had said, but when it came to herself, she couldn't lie for shit. She wore her heart on her sleeve all the time. Finally she managed to spit out, "Well, if you think she's so pretty, then why don't you go follow her?"

Jean finished his drink and handed the bartender his cash. "She's not my type. I'm more into dangerous brunettes."

He left Rebecca with that, not bothering to look back as she gaped at his retreating figure. By the time he stepped outside of the bar, he was full on laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. As he got into his car though, he realized that he hadn't just been teasing her. That Alexandra woman really hadn't been his type. Maybe for a bit of fun, but she hadn't interested him in the slightest. Now Rebecca Catalina, a woman that he was sure could do some damage to him and drove him up a wall half the time, now she was interesting. She was definitely his type.