-

"Oh, Alphonse, it was so heroic of you to come and save us!

"With what you were doing for me, it only felt right."

That morning, Top U.Z.Z. Agents Victor Volt and Anita Knight had been sent down into the lair of what Professor Professor liked to call "The Imitators" ; they were a group of Imposters who were rejected by the Imposter Civilization for their incompetence; they failed miserably at most of their duties and even ruined some of the master plans for world domination. Now, in an attempt to revolt, they tried to kidnap the President of Italy, but instead they snagged Alphonse's replica of the man, somehow thinking it was the real thing despite it being made entirely of the sculptor's nose hairs. Victor and Anita were meant to retrieve the..err, "art piece", and stop The Imitators before they realised their mistake and carried on with their evil scheme.

After traveling down 89 miles under the surface of the Earth, the duo found that the Imitators had settled into a large underground cave, decorated with the remains of many machines. However, the pair couldn't possibly figure out whether the contraptions had originally been sent down by scientists or merely things that the monsters had stolen from the human civilization, as they were so heavily yet poorly altered that you could barely make out their original purpose. It was clear that the creatures had attempted to rip apart some of the machines and rebuild them into gadgets that would suit their purpose, but the being's poor craftsmanship left them looking like something a very young child would make as a craft. Other appliances had been simply dismantled, the metals and other pieces used to cover the walls of the base or simply lie around on the floor, as though thrown there long ago in frustration. The twosome of agents eventually managed to find the statue, but The Imitators finally spotted them when a certain someone tripped over a stray pipe. The agents were then forced to run as the Imposter rejects chased them relentlessly down a long string of rocky tunnels, until finally the spies bravely leapt down into a large hole in the ground,(or, at least, one leapt; the other simply fell). This managed to shake off the creepy creatures at last, as they were all too frightened to follow the humans on their very long and potentially dangerous fall.

Thankfully, before either agent could hit the ground, both were saved by long, loosely hanging wires, likely leftovers from an invention that The Imitators had trashed earlier. However, the man clad in blue didn't see it as much of lucky strike; while his partner had merely been caught around her ankles, leaving the rest of her body to move freely, he was completely tangled up from head to toe, leaving nothing but his face in the open to desperately resist blushing as the woman laughed at his predicament.

When it seemed like the two were going to have to work their way out of another sticky situation, wouldn't you know it, the sculptor for which they were working for somehow appeared from a corridor below them. After they had both gotten down, Alphonse claimed he knew the way out. Taking his sculpture in one hand and Anita's arm in the other, he led them through a tunnel that was slanted upward, seemingly leading them back to the surface, while he and the woman in violet had a little compliment contest between each other.

Conveniently, the cave just so happened to open up into a seemingly endless meadow, stuffed to the brim with flowers like an ocean of flora. Butterflies leaped from the plant beds and soared above them like majestic little fairies as they marched through the blossoms. The sky was painted with purples, pinks, yellows and oranges as the sun gently began to set behind a row of tall hills, the occasional bird fluttering through the colors above as it let out a perfectly tuned song. The strong yet enjoyable scent of fresh wildflowers seemed to be the perfectly matching perfume for the growing atmosphere of romance between the artist and the female spy, who were so distracted by one another that they were completely unaware of the annoyed male desperately trying to up with them.

Special Agent Victor Volt struggled to hop along behind them, caked in the lover's shadow. His arms were tightly bound to his body by thick, black wires; his legs were pressed together by the technical ropes, which forced him to effortfully bounce like a bunny. Of course, Alejandro over here just haaaad to save Anita, but not him. As if hanging helplessly upside down wasn't embarrassing enough, but since Allonso the Sculptor could only busy himself with saving his little blondie girl, that left Anita to cut him free with a shot of her laser gun, leaving him to fall and clunk his head while they were busy cannoodling. And now, no "Are you okay, Victor?", no "Need some help, Victor?", and certainly no "Oh, Victor, you were so brave back there with those baddies!". Nope, the lovebirds were far too occupied cooing compliments and gazing into each other's eyes. It was so adorable it made him sick.

As if to finally end the American man's torture, an U.Z.Z. helicopter landed in front of the trio. Special Agent Raymondo and several of the others were there, inviting the artist and the agents onboard. As Kowalski and Todd carefully began cutting Victor free of the wires, Ray explained how Alphonse begged them to bring him here, as he somehow "sensed" that something was wrong, and couldn't allow Anita to suffer any injury. As the blue-haired man continued to ramble on about Alphonse "adding" to his record of saving Anita, (of course, not giving any consideration of all times Victor had rescued her), Victor could only glare at Anita and Alphonse. Anita was now sitting comfortably in Alphonse's lap, allowing herself to wrap her arms around him as the two continued to converse, still giving absolutely no caring to anything going on around them. This time, Victor allowed his face to blush. As he stared at the couple, he thought of how he had been feeling differently about Anita for some time now; in the beginning she was nothing but his partner, the girl who was assigned to help him take out bad guys and make the world a safer place. Then, she slowly became more than that; a bond was formed between the two, until finally they realised a friendship, began calling each other "best buddies". Lately, however, Victor seemed to get a new reaction when he got close with her; something in the way his heart leapt and his stomach turned told him there was something more than just a tight friendship going on. However, it seemed that the American had had trouble putting it into focus, or even realising it was there until Alfonso showed up. While Anita's whole world seemed to light up when the dark-skinned man was with them, Victor felt nothing but unexplainably deep irritation when he saw him. Perhaps it was the idea that a man could realise Anita's greatness and attempt to make it his own much faster than he could. Maybe it was the fact that Victor was so inexperienced with romance that he could barely find the courage to talk to Anita about how he felt.

Or maybe it was just the fact that Victor simply wasn't her first choice.

-

Later that night, Victor found himself pacing back and forth in his bathroom. He was in a panic; Anita and Alphonse were obviously growing closer, which meant soon the already slight chance he had of starting a real relationship with her would soon fade into nothing. It was clear he had to take action. He wasn't the type of man to just sit back on the sidelines and let his prize slip away from his fingers. But, he had to take a second to return back to the hard reality; whilst Alphonse was certainly a strange man with disgusting taste in art materials, he still possessed many qualities that Victor did not; he was artistic, a great singer, graceful, knew all the right things to say, and very romantic. Anita's words from the time of the incident rang in Victor's ears; "He has style, charm, a great smile...". Why would Anita ever want him? He was NONE of those things! At the end of the day he was nothing but a clumsy, lazy, stupid, childish little nerd who somehow managed to be in the same agent class as her. Anita clearly liked men with class and sophistication; she needed a top of the line fella! And if he wanted her that badly, which he did, he was gonna have to step up his game. It was official; the time had come for Victor to Alphonse-ify himself.

First things first; Alphonse was a man of Italy, a land bursting with romantic elements, while he was born and raised in the infamous country of America. Victor turned towards the mirror, looked himself straight in the eyes, and allowed himself to speak:

"Hi, my name is Victor Vo-"

Nope. That accent wasn't gonna cut it. It would be the first thing to go.

Preparing himself for a second attempt, Victor took in a large breath that caused his chest to puff out, and once his eyes locked with those of his reflection, he gave it another try:

" 'Ello, ze naimeh isa Victer Vrolteh."

It was perfect! In only a second, Victor had transformed himself from an Average Joe American to a riveting, cultured Italian man! However, all he had off the checklist so far was his voice. There was still much more work to do.

Victor squinted his eyes shut tight as he tried to brainstorm over Alphonse's traits. Then, it hit him; the beard! His eyes burst open with excitement, only to droop in sadness as he recalled how facial hair would take quite awhile to grow into the shape and size he required, and he needed results ASAP! Oh well, for now he'd have to settle for an articial facial hairdo. Swinging open the door to his bathroom closet, he began to rummage through the contents lining the shelves; towels, extra soap, some hidden comic books,(what a strange place to keep them...), until he finally gave up on finding anything to help create a facade beard. However, Victor was too desperate for a manly chin to give up just now! Details were important in a situation like this! Persistent, he went to the kitchen. When he pulled open one of the cupboard drawers, his eyes widened with happiness as he found the solution to his problem; a black marker! Of course, it WAS permanent, but that meant it would hold over until his real beard grew out; when that happened, he was sure he could get Professor Professor to conjure up something to wipe away permanent ink.

Snatching the pen away from the disorganized drawer's many other contents, Victor raced back to the bathroom and quickly began coloring around his lips. Finally, after a few minutes of sketching on his skin, Victor had created a completely realistic, dark, attractive beard around his lips; it was just like Alphonse's, but better. As he gazed at his new facial accessory, he had a sudden flashback to the patch of hair he wore on his chin during that phase in highschool...-UEUGH! Shaking away the bad memories, Victor mentally prepared himself to think of the next thing he had to change about himself.
The first thing to pop into his head was one of Alphonse's most striking features; his outfit. The Italian male was always draped in a long white shirt and pants, with a large golden necklace and pointy black shoes. Well, the footwear was already taken care of, as a part of his U.Z.Z. uniform was a pair of black, heeled shoes. He swore, whoever's idea it was to put heels on shoes for a secret agent has clearly never tried running or jumping with them before, even if they were small...anywho, at least this time the shoes would actually be helping him for once. As for the white garment and gold jewelry piece...well, a thorough inspection of his closet proved that he had nothing even close to that. Except, maybe...

Rushing back into the bathroom, Victor opened his bathroom closet back up and pulled out the white bathrobe he had set aside earlier. Twirling back around to the mirror and holding up the robe to his body, his heart skipped a beat over how perfect it was. There was even a low cut down the chest, so his chest hair would be exposed; of course, the patches of orangish-brownish hairs living on his chest were much thinner than Alphonse's, but...oh well. Chest hair is chest hair, right? To see if his assumptions were correct, he stripped off his U.Z.Z. suit, leaving on the shoes, and put on the bathrobe. A smug look grew on his face as he glanced himself over in the mirror. Uh-huh, he was lookin' SMOOTH. Now, if only he had a replacement for the shimmering jewelry to complete the look...

The next idea struck Victor like a brick to the side of the head. But a good brick to the side of the head, of course. He was hit with the memory of receiving some yellow paper flyers in the mail earlier that morning. He sprinted into his kitchen, then shifted through the rubbish bin until uncovering the bright-yellow advertisements for the new pet groomer's down the street. Digging out some glue and a pair of scissors from the same cupboard drawer that the black marker used to call it's home, Victor sat himself down at the table and quickly got to work making a long paper chain, as he had been instructed on how to do so many years ago in Kindergarten. Sure, it wasn't exactly the same as a heavy gold necklace, but this would still look good and show Anita how he was creative too, just like Alphonse!

A short while later, Victor had managed to make a rope of yellow paper loops, all hanging on to one another with help from bottled glue. The bright sun-colored craft was just big enough to sit around his neck and dangle a short ways down his chest.

After proudly donning the makeshift neck ornament, Victor returned to the mirror to assess his appearance once more.

It was during this inspection that it finally came to light, the last big feature that was naked of any change: Victor's hair. Victor and Alphonse's dos were so immensely different, they practically screamed out how unalike the two were in personality; Alphonse's mane was dark, the color of the night sky, and it majestically swayed back behind his head. Victor, on the other hand, had a mop of hair that sat messily atop his head, it's color so peculiar he couldn't even compare it to anything; was it brown? Was it orange? He could never really tell. Well, now it was time to finally give his locks a needed upgrade.
Searching through the medicine cabinet like a small animal digging around for food, the man failed to find any dye or black paint; oh well, even if his hair color had to go without altering, at least this tube of hair grease he uncovered in the back of the cabinet would give him what he needed! Excitement and determination speeding up his movements, the agent quickly squeezed out a large amount of the thick goop. Taking large chunks of his hair in hand, he glided the gel through his hair. A humongous smile burst onto his face when he looked in the mirror; his once sloppy hairdo was now slicked back like a large, shiny orange wave. It seemed like his quest to become a new man had finally reached an end. That is, except...

Of course! His personality! He couldn't just walk up to Anita the next day as the same exact idiot but with a different look, expecting her to suddenly fall for him! No, if he wanted to capture her heart, he had to do what Alphonse would do. But that was just it: what WOULD Alphonse do?

Well, let's see; although Alphonse was skilled in many art forms, he was best known to make sculptures and give them as gifts to Anita, usually made out of something that would make Victor want to throw up, but Anita would always be simply bedazzled by the little knick-knack, even if it was completely made up of boogers or ear wax or something else from that family. Victor knew then and there that he had to dedicate himself to building something for Anita, something gross, but something so artsy that she wouldn't care, just like Alphonse. But the medium he would use for the piece couldn't just be something revolting, it had to be something from his own body as well. What could he possibly use? It couldn't be something Alphonse had already done, that would just be tacky, but Alphonse had used just about everything you could possibly steal from your body to make art with! He let out a short sigh of frustration. He was going to have to think this over for awhile...

In hopes of truly making sure that he had left no stone unturned in his physical makeover, Victor took this time to think over all the little details he could remember about Alphonse; thankfully, possibly the one thing they had in common was their dark eyes, so he could just leave those alone. If he recalled correctly, Alphonse nose was pretty normal, if not somewhat long; Victor felt a wave of disappointment and some embarrassment as he looked in the mirror and was greeted by his abnormally gigantic honker. Unfortunately, there was simply nothing he could about that; at least, nothing that wouldn't cost him thousands of dollars he didn't have.

Victor's eyes began to travel downward along the path of his mirror reflection's body. The makeshift outfit and matching jewelry still hung from his body, fitting nicely, if not the tiniest bit large, but that only made it more comfortable for him. It was only now that he took into account his body's form, which was perhaps the only thing that, if left unchanged, could actually be an advantage he had over Alphonse. Alphonse was a plump fellow, his large stomach failing to match up with his unusually skinny legs and arms. Victor's figure, on the other hand, was built well, which he was quite proud of. His arms and legs were thick with muscle, and his six-pack had brought him great pride for years, (of course, if you asked anybody else they would say it was more of a two-pack, just barely a four-pack, but Victor had a bit of a habit in allowing his pride and high expectations to slightly blind him). Of course, there WAS always the possibility that Anita was one of those gal's who simply preferred more meat on the bones of her men, but sadly his body image wasn't something he could change overnight, and even if he were to change it over a long length of time, it would come at great risk for both his health and career...so, yeah, he decided to just leave that alone and hope desperately that Anita was more into beasts than buffalo. Along with his body weight, he had to give up the concept of changing his skin tone as well. Even if he were to visit some sort of late night tanning booth, it wouldn't look nearly the same as Alphonse's naturally-earned, sexy, lightly-toasted Italian skin. He would just have to pray that the great changes he already made to his appearance and mindset would distract Anita from his pale, pasty, white American skin.

Almost on autopilot, his eyeballs ripped themselves from the mirror dangling on the wall and focused on the lower half of his body that he couldn't see in the mirror. That's when the most fabulous idea of the entire night charged it's way into his brain. Sure, the ideas he had one after another before may have hit him with quite some weight, but this one came on to him like he was hit by a speeding train head-first. But, you know, hit by a speeding train head-first in a good way, of course.

Slamming the medicine cabinet's door wide open with a cheetah-like speed beyond any speed he had achieved that night, he speedily ripped a small, slighty battered pair of tweezers off their resting place on the very lowest shelf in the cabinet. Without even stopping to properly close the cabinet's door, he plopped himself down onto the toilet seat and got to work ripping apart the small forest of dark, brownish-orangish hairs that had rested peacefully on his legs for so many years. Some shamefully un-manly tears may have been shed from the pain he caused himself that night, but he knew it would all lead up to the best idea he ever had in his life; the idea that would finally win him the greatest woman he could ever possibly earn.

-
At 6 A.M. the next morning, U.Z.Z. Agent Anita Knight was enjoying her early morning private yoga session. However, her peaceful morning world was shattered as her Communicator began ringing loudly across the room.

Groaning in frustration, the blonde took her leg out from behind her head and raced over towards the screeching electronic.

As she reached the small table where her light purple Communicator rang, she noticed the dark blue letters spelling out "Victor" on the phone's screen, implying that her partner was the one calling her. This was very peculiar; Victor had told her before that he was a late sleeper, not at all an earlybird like she was, and this fact was made even more clear by all the times Victor had shown up late to work, out of breath from hurrying and constantly spewing out excuses for why he was tardy. A look of confusion painted on her face, she picked up the Communicator hoping for an instant explanation of his weird behavior; sadly, things would only get more confusing from here.

"Gode morzienga', Uhnieza!"

"Um..hello?"

"Howur yuw zis faine moranin'?"

"Uh, Victor, are you okay?"

"Nezar ben bettah, mah sweret derlahng werndahfu' swathurt Aneightuh! Anezoo, I neyed yue to cum ovah to ze U.Z.Z. bahase; I hayavah suppris fer yo!"

"Victor, what are you doing at work already?! We're not supposed to go in for another two hours, you must be all alone! What do you mean a surprise?! And what on Earth is with that ridiculous acce-"

"Don' werreh 'bout nuttin', mah lettle cremtart. Jus hed oveh hera righta nou, u vont regrate nutzi'!"

Before Anita could interrogate her best friend further, he hung up. She had to take a few seconds to stand there in complete befuddlement. It was almost like some kind of horribly strange practical joke was being played on her, or rather like she was having an incredibly peculiar dream. Absolutely nothing about this situation added up whatsoever. However, rather than standing there and continuing to question it, she quickly changed from her yoga outfit to her U.Z.Z. suit, and, after equipping her precious ray gun, ran outside onto the city streets and used her Communicator to call her Skybike over from the base, where it rested safely and securely during the night hours. After only a few moments, the dark green vehicle leaped from the orange and pink morning sky and parked itself onto the sidewalk. She mounted it and sped off through the cool, early morning air towards the U.Z.Z. base she had called her place of work for so many years.

After only a few minutes of speeding above the urban streets of London, she brought her automobile to a somewhat sudden, slightly screeching halt upon one of the smooth silver landing decks that jutted out from the thin stalk of the U.Z.Z. base. She bounded off her Skybike and raced inside the building, her heart beginning to pound faster and faster with urgency and fear over the sake of her dear friend. At the high speeds at which she ran through the halls that morning, she surely would have tripped and fell many times had it not been for the fact that she were so incredibly well balanced and carefully footed. As she began to near the main pod, she started slowing her pace. Eventually she was moving through the main rooms of the building with extreme caution, her ray gun raised high near her face, ready to protect her against the trap that she highly suspected this whole scenario to be. She was surprised to make it to the briefing room door without any trouble, but she didn't let her guard down any bit; as her hand slowly positioned itself around the golden doorknob, careful not to make even the slightest sound, she began to mentally prepare herself for what could be behind the door. She believed it would most likely be an arch nemesis of the U.Z.Z. corporation, such Doctor Doctor or the Imposters, or maybe even a brand new foe. However, it wasn't WHO was setting up the trap that really bothered her, but WHAT they could be potentially doing in the room before her. She wondered why the call she received earlier that morning still sounded like Victor, but in an accent so distorted she couldn't even relate it to any culture; Was it a poor impression of Victor by an Imposter or another dastardly villian? Had they captured Victor, forced him to speak, and he figured the goofy accent would be a way of subtly communicating to her the danger and/or unusualness of the situation? Or, was it the absolute worst case scenario; was Victor in there, captured by some brute(s), so painfully battered and bruised in his facial or neck area that he couldn't even speak correctly? Anita couldn't stand the thoughts in her own mind anymore. Deciding she had to act immediately for the sake of her partner, she sprang the door upon in a flash and pounced into the room with catlike reflexes, her ray gun instantly raised high in the air and pointed towards whatever danger could be awaiting her. However, she found no Doctor Doctor, no Imposters, not even a small-time rookie evildoer; No, what she found was much more innocent and harmless, but at the same time, much stranger than she could have ever dreamed.

"Ah! Mah-ay durh Aneytia! I vwaz wattin' foi youa ti shur ryup!"

Sitting in the plushy velvet throne usually claimed by Victor Volt was a man who appeared to be Anita's partner and long-time friend, but nearly everything about him seemed completely...off.

Although the American male wore a very bright, wide and almost smug smile across his face, the genuineness of the happy gesture was impaired by his eyes, which wore sloping eyelids, dark circles and slight redness and puffyness like clothes, implying that it had been awhile since the man slept last. His hair shone brightly with greasiness, but not in any natural way; it appeared as though some sort of artificial slick substance was shoved through it. However, if Victor had done this to improve the appearance of his hairdo, he clearly failed; aside from a large, 50's greaser style wave in the center, chunks of sticky, orange-brown hair stuck out all over his head, giving it a ruffled and unkempt look, as though his hair highly disagreed with the substance. The clothing and accessory that draped off him were completely ridiculous, even for his fashion standards; Anita had simply no idea what could compel any man to willingly decide to wear a puffy white bathrobe and a children's paper loop necklace into a serious place of work. As her eyes climbed their way down the mountain of his body, she also noticed that his legs were completely bare, aside from the occasional dark orange-brown hair that stuck out here and there. She had honestly never focused upon Victor's legs before, so for all she had known they could have always been like that. She never had any idea that he liked to...ah, well, either way she wasn't going to judge him for enjoying something like that. Can you really blame a brother for desiring some smooth skin? Anywho, the man she had seen nearly every single day of her life for the past several years looked so entirely different that she could only tell it was him from his familiar skin tone, hair color, body, nose and just the general look upon his face, even though it was heavily plagued with exhaustion, no matter how much he tried to hide it with that big dumb smile of his.

"Victor...are you alright?" Anita questioned. She began to relax her muscles and slowly bring the ray gun toward her side, but she refused to lose all tensity and preparedness to strike, as she still wasn't completely convinced that this wasn't a trap. Although, seeing what truly seemed like her best buddy in such a state, she was starting to wonder if he was sick in some way, that is, if this even was him.

"Wai oh curs jah aim!" the man exclaimed. "Nawha, aruh jo rudzah fui yora serpriisa?"

He leapt from the plush seat like a bouncy baby bunny, and swiftly dove behind the large chair. The energy in his motions and speech gave off the impression that he was excited, despite the obvious tiredness that hung over him. After a second of rustling behind the giant red recliner, he bounced back up from behind the seat. With an expression on his face that matched the giddyness of a small child, he pushed the item that he had retrieved uncomfortably close to Anita's face.

Upon the very first second that the warped Victor clone shoved the peculiar little sculpture unnervingly close to the blonde's face, she instantly wanted to barf. Inches away from her rather pointed nose, a 12-inch tall "art piece" stood up upon the American's palms. Made entirely from what appeared to be dark, orangish-brownish hairs, the small statue took a slender shape, with four smaller stalks poking out from the sides and bottom of the "art piece". Sitting atop the slim body of the mini structure was a shape that Anita couldn't really give a name; it was like if a circle and a rectangle had a one night stand and ended up with some completely unknown shape for a child. From one end of the weird shape, long strands of hair hung loosely down the sculpting piece's back, while on the other end of the shape, a clump of hair stuck out, crudely cut with scissors into the shape of a rather pointy triangle. Forced to make an assumption off of her first wild guess, Anita could only assume that, somehow, this strange little thing that barely even qualified as "artwork" was intended to be a replica of her. She felt a small pang of appreaciation in her chest, for the gift was admittedly a thoughtful one, but ultimately she was ready to be sick at the revolting atrocity. In a desperate attempt to shield themselves from the eyesore, her deep purple eyes crept down towards the long, somewhat heavily-built arms that continued to lift the sculpture so close to her head; it wasn't until now that she noticed that Victor's arms, much like his legs, were almost completely bare. Upon jetting her eyes back towards his face, she now noticed how much thinner his usually rather thick black eyebrows looked. The smart blonde woman easily put two and two together, and she instantly felt an urgent need to remove the object from her personal space bubble, as the realization of what it was truly made of made it about a million times more horrifying.

Trying hard not to look too disgusted, Anita quickly and delicately scooped up the small, hairy ornament and swiftly placed it onto the seat cushion of Victor's chair. Lifting herself back up towards Victor, she felt a pang of guilt as Victor's facial expression turned from one of cheerfulness and delight to one of confusion and some oncoming shame.

"Victor...what is going on?"

"W-wh-wh-what du zou mea-ean-ean?"

As the man began to stutter his speech, his female partner noticed his traditional American accent beginning to poke through the thick cloud of the made up accent he had been using all morning.

"I mean, this isn't like you at all. Dressing up in a bathrobe, showing up to work so early, making this...'gift' for me..." Anita gestured towards the small sculpture. "...Victor, what's wrong with you?"

"N-n-n-nothing's wrong! Nothing at all!"

After he finally completed a sentence without using any fake accent or voice, Anita realized she had finally cracked down on her partner; he was obviously incredibly nervous, but he seemed to be becoming more honest, and what she needed so badly right now was the truth.

"Victor, please..tell me what's going on."

The man paused for a moment, his eyes darting around the room, until he finally took in a deep breath and let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Well...I was just...trying to, well, you know, just..."

It was now that Anita's eyes began giving Victor's new appearance another quick once-over, and then everything started making just a little more sense. How could she have been so stupid?! She couldn't believe herself for not realizing this before.

"Victor, are you imitating Alphonse?"

The very minute Anita said this, Victor's dark brown eyes dilated like a wild animal spotting a hunter, and his face began to flush like a middle school student who's crush was just revealed to the whole entire class.

"I...no, I mean, why would I-I mean, well, I, I sorta, I, was just trying to-I just wanted to-I-I-I-"

A quick, angered sigh escaped from the man's light pink lips, and he finally erupted with, "YEAH!" "Yes, I was, okay?!" "I-I was just-"

"Victor, why on Earth would you try and imitate Alphonse like this?!"

"W-well, I-I I just...I had to, okay?!"

"But WHY?!"

The next string of words exploded from Victor in a very fast, and very emotional fashion: "B-b-because I had to, alright?! I did it because you like him, and I need you to like me!"

"But Victor, I already like you so much! You're so funny and sweet; we're partners, best buddies, remember? You don't need to try and be like anybody else. I love you!"

No. That may have SOUNDED like what Victor wanted to hear, but he felt no accomplishment or satisfaction from her words whatsoever. He could tell by the tone in her voice, her body language; she didn't love him. Or, at least, not the way he wanted her to. When she said that she loved him, she meant it the way she always has; as a friend. A brother, even. But these feeling's he had been having lately...they craved so much more than just a simple friendship.

"I know you do..." Victor said, looking dejected at the floor as he flopped down onto Anita's chair with defeat. "But...lately, i've just felt weird. Different. Like, when I look at you, I get this...smile. Different from any smile that i've gotten from looking at anybody. You just make me so happy, but a new kind of happy, a happy i've never felt before."

Those deep, dark purple eyes that Victor loved to look into for so long just stared down at Victor on the chair, their owner completely speechless and making no attempt to interrupt his monologue; if anything, she seemed to be listening with no distraction, and waiting for him to continue. So that's just what he did.

"I get this 'happy'...like you get, when you look at Alphonse. Your eyes glitter and sparkle when you're around him, your face gets all pinky, your breathing gets light...like i've been getting, when I look at you." Victor now made no effort to stare at some point in the room other than where his love interest stood; he just focused his attention right on her. And she made no indication of discomfort when he did. She just stood there, looking right at him, patiently waiting, because she knew him well, and she knew that he had more to say. "I love to see you get that happy, but I hate it too, 'cause I get that happy when I look at you, but you get that happy when you look at Alphonse. And, well...I just really wanted you to get that happy when you looked at me, like you did for Alphonse, like I wanted our 'happies' to meet, or something." Victor looked away from the blonde for a second, swallowing slightly hard before bravely making the effort to look back at her and finish his confession. "And, so, well, I, I just thought that maybe if I changed myself to be more like Alphonse, then you would get that happy when you look at me."

Now that Anita knew that her partner was finally done with his emotional ramble, a whole storm of different feelings swelled up inside of her. She felt sympathy, great pity for the poor boy sitting in front of her, so broken hearted in so many ways. She also felt a great sense of shock, surprise; she always knew he loved her, but she didn't know he LOVED loved her...she always adored the bond they had. She thought it was a deep connection between two partners, between two best buddies.

...Between her and the greatest friend she ever had.

Now, a completely different set of emotions sprung out through the storm of feelings she already had like a raging, bright hot sun. The feelings she felt in that very moment on that very morning are ones that she still can't properly explain to this day. They were by far the strangest, most confused feelings she had ever felt and would ever feel from then on. All she knows for a fact is that somehow, for some reason, those feelings compelled her to pull the broken man from the velvet throne she usually sat upon and gently grace his cheeks with her own lips.

After pulling away from the short kiss, she smiled, a new, light feeling of fuzziness beginning to spread through her. No, she knew this wasn't the start of any kind of love. However, now that she finally had this new information on how her partner felt, she honestly didn't really mind the idea of trying something new.

"T-this Saturday..." Anita began, surprised by how anxious her own words sounded. "This Saturday," There, much better. More fittingly confident. ", would you like to see a movie with me?".

Anita had to do absolutely everything in her power to keep herself from bursting into a fit of laughter over the face Victor was wearing. The goofiest, silliest smile she could have ever imagined was creeping it's way along his face, getting wider and wider by the millisecond. His now thinner than usual eyebrows were higher than she knew the human eyebrows could travel up a person's forehead. But, man, those eyes; until she was lieing on her deathbed many years from then, she swore she would never, ever forget how his eyes looked right then and there. They started out so small, so dilated, and then got wider and wider and brighter and brighter, sparkling and fizzing fireworks like a small child on Christmas morning. In every single way, he looked like an "over-the-moon" cartoon character.

"Y-yes...that sounds great."

"Alrighty then."

Anita released her grasp on the man, not making an effort to help him when he nearly fell over from light-headedness, as she was too busy trying not to laugh.

"You should really head home and fix yourself up. The boss'll have a fit if he sees you in the base without your proper uniform. If you want, you can ride on my skybike, cause you seem a tad tired."

"Y-yeah, that sounds great."

This time, Anita couldn't help but let out a small giggle. Stopping herself before her laughter grew too powerful, Anita began to stroll out of the briefing room, expecting her best buddy to follow her lead. Instead, the poor, incredibly dizzy fellow collapsed onto his chair. The poor thing took a hard blow to his back, but as dozens of hairs, the obvious debris of the sculpture he worked so hard and now crushed littered the air, he could only smile with pure and absolute delight like that of a child's storybook character in a heavenly wonderland.

He won the girl at last.