Disclaimer: FMA and all of its characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa. The song "Guy Love" belongs to whoever made the TV show Scrubs. Hughes' rap belongs solely to my sister and me.

(You can look for "Guy Love" on YouTube if you want the full effect. Roy is the black guy and Hughes is the white guy. lol)

By the way, I'm sure that microphones, baseball caps, and karaoke bars don't exist in FMA, but I needed them, so I put them there.

In A Drunken Haze

Roy Mustang and Maes Hughes were both on stage, mid-song. "Guy love! That's all it is. Guy love! He's mine I'm his. There's nothing gay about it in our eyes."

The duet was a strange one, yes, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Roy sang, "You ask me 'bout this thing we share."

And Hughes followed up with, "And he tenderly replies."

"It's guy love-" Roy sang.

"-between two guys." The finished the verse off together.

Riza Hawkeye was sitting in the crowd. Before the guys had gotten up on stage, they had been sitting in the booth with her. "This is getting weirder and weirder," she said, taking a sip of her drink.

Hughes was singing again. "It's like I married my best friend."

And then Roy. "But in a totally manly way."

"Let's go!"

"Oh God," Riza said as they linked arms and sang at the top of their voices.

Hughes was singing out, "And when I say, 'I love you Roy,' it's not what it implies."

And then Roy joined him as they finished the song. "It's guy love between two guys."

*PAUSE*

Roy walks out in front of the screen. "I guess you would probably like an explanation for this bit of . . . well, I guess you want to know what's going on here," he says, looking more than a little embarrassed. "I guess I'll start from the beginning. Here goes."

*REWIND*

*PLAY*

It was amazing that they had convinced Riza to accompany them to the bar. Without Hughes' quick thinking and the fact that Riza had had a long day and wasn't thinking entirely clearly, they never would have managed it. In fact, they had nearly failed in their attempt.

"No," she said firmly.

"Aww, come on," Roy pleaded.

"I'm not going to a bar with you two. I've heard too many stories."

"That won't happen this time," Hughes assured her.

"So they're true?" she asked.

"Well, some of them," Roy said, scratching the back of his head, half chagrined and half pleased.

Riza shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir, but I would rather not."

"Look," said Hughes, "It looks like you've got two choices. You can either go with us to the bar or you can play poker with the men."

"Bar," she said immediately. She'd only played poker with the men once. She had left halfway through when they suddenly declared that it was strip poker.

And that's how it came to be that Roy and Hughes' plan was put into action. Roy would finally ask Riza out tonight! He was nervous, but she had agreed to go with them to the bar, so maybe she was in a good mood. . . .

It wasn't until they were at the bar and had ordered their drinks that she realized that she had had a third option. Stay at home. She figured it was too late now that she already had a drink. Besides, there was no way they were letting her go.

Hughes watched as the Lieutenant ignored her drink and Roy ordered another. His best friend was nervous, obviously, and was trying to take the edge off with alcohol.

Maybe another drink will make me less anxious, thought Roy, draining his third beer.

"Three more drinks!" Hughes called to the waitress. Perhaps if he got drunk too it would balance it out in Hawkeye's mind.

"You're buying us all drinks?" the woman in question asked, glancing at the one that still sat, untouched, in front of her.

"You want one too?" Hughes asked. He turned back to the waitress. "Make it four!"

The Lieutenant stared at him incredulously. What on earth was with these two? Roy was getting drunk slowly and steadily and had not said a word to her since their arrival. Hughes, on the other hand, had not stopped talking and seemed to want to get drunk all at once. Maybe a little drinking on her part would help her deal with them. She took a sip of her beer.

It didn't take long before both men were up on stage, singing their hearts out, and not caring what the others in the bar thought of them. Riza took another long swig from her drink, hoping that the night wouldn't get too much weirder. As they finished their duet Roy came back and sat down after Hughes very obviously nudged him in that direction. Then the Lieutenant Colonel stole some poor guy's hat and wore it backwards, taking up the microphone once more.

"This is fer my dearest Graysha!" he slurred. He began to rap – yes, rap – as Roy slid closer to Riza in the booth.

"Gray-see-ah is my bew-ti-full wife. If you touch her, then you will lose your life," Hughes started.

"I love this song," Roy said happily.

"You've heard it before?" Riza inquired dubiously.

"No," he said. "He only just made it up in his head."

Riza opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it and took a drink instead. Roy put his arm around her shoulder and started playing with her hair, which she had let down for the informal occasion.

"Sir, what are you doing?" she asked.

"You're hair is so pretty and . . . yellowy," he said.

"How romantic," she muttered sarcastically, taking another sip of her drink.

At this time, a man walked up to the table, taking little notice of the fact that Roy was falling asleep on Riza's shoulder.

"Hey," he said to her, "You wanna dance?"

Her initial thought was that there was no way she could dance to the "music" that Hughes was providing. Then she noticed that Roy was glaring particularly intensely at the man, who suddenly seemed to realize who he was.

"Where are my gloves?" Roy asked.

"I didn't let you bring them, sir," she said. "Alcohol and fire don't mix well."

"Oh, it's okay. I don't need to dance," the man said, backing away like a frightened puppy.

"No, you don't," Roy said, nodding once in triumph. "Not with my lieutenant."

Riza sighed and took yet another gulp of her beer.

"El-ee-see-ah is my darling little daughter. If you go near her you will get shot . . . er."

"Wonderful rhyming," said Riza.

"It's such a beautiful song," Roy said, with none of the sarcasm that his lieutenant had displayed. Riza looked at him and then at the six empty bottles on the table in front of him, and made no comment. Roy knew that he didn't have too much time before the night was over. He had to ask Riza before he passed out. "Riza?" he started.

She looked up, startled by the sound of her first name. "Um, yes, sir?"

"I . . . . . . . . . need another drink," he said, withdrawing his arm from around her shoulders and reaching for one of the empty bottles. He tipped it upside down and nothing came out. "Why is the rum always gone?" he questioned. Then he began laughing to himself as if he had made some hilarious joke.

Riza didn't understand, but she decided against trying to figure it out. Hughes seemed to be finishing up the rap about his family, so she started gathering up her things.

"El-ee-see-ah and Gray-shee-ahh are my fam-ill-ee. I love them so much that it makes me need to pee."

"I'm sure they'd appreciate that," Riza commented dryly, helping Roy to his feet and handing him his coat, which he put on backwards. "Hughes," she called, "I'm taking you home to your wife."

The crowd applauded as he bounded towards her, throwing the hat and microphone off behind him. "Yayyy! My beautiful Grayshaaa!"

Riza pulled Roy's jacket off and helped him get it on the right way before holding the door open for the two drunken men.

When she showed up at the Hughes' door, Riza apologized to Gracia.

"No, it's okay," Gracia said. "I'm used to it."

"So, the stories are true?"

"Most of them," she said, taking her husband into the house. "Take care."

When they reached Roy's house, Riza almost felt bad for leaving him alone. She knew he had little more than a couch to sleep on and she doubted he would be able to make himself coffee in the morning.

"I don't waannaa," he complained when she asked him to unlock the door.

She fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door herself. She opened the door and said, "Okay, sir, it's time to go home and sleep on your couch."

"I don't want to go home and sleep on my couch. I want to go home and sleep on your couch."

"My couch isn't at your house, sir," she said reasonably.

"Then let's go to your house," he said matter-of-factly.

Riza pushed him forward, into the house, but he ran back past her and sat down outside, grinning up at her.

"You're such a child sometimes," she scolded, only half annoyed, if she was honest with herself.

After a few more minutes, she realized that there was nothing for it. She told him to get back in the car and he gladly obeyed her. She was amazed that he stayed awake for the entire ride over; she could tell he was fading fast, however.

As he settled onto her couch she tossed him a blanket. He didn't catch it and it hit him in the face. She started to walk away and he called out. "Riza, wait!" She turned back to him to see his was trying to twiddle his thumbs, but was too drunk to do it properly.

"What is it, sir?"

"Will you go on a date with me?"

The question surprised her. She reminded herself that he was extremely drunk. He probably won't remember any of this tomorrow morning, she thought. He probably doesn't even realize that it's me he's talking to. She could pretend though. It's not like it meant anything when he was drunk. "Sure," she said.

"Reallu?" he asked, sitting up straight and brimming with excitement. "How 'bout on Friday?"

"Okay, sir," she said, trying not to laugh. "Try to get some sleep."

He smiled and promptly passed out, having completed his mission.

The next morning, Riza and Roy both sat at the table, drinking their coffee. Riza was trying to forget the events of the previous night. Roy was grinning ever so slightly in a way that made Riza nervous. It was a triumphant grin caused her to wonder what he had done. She reminded herself that she had double checked the lock on the bathroom door when she had taken a shower that morning, so it probably wasn't anything to be too worried about.

"So," he said, finally. "About Friday."

"Friday?" she questioned, confused.

"Yes," he said. "You did agree to go on a date with me this Friday, remember? I remember. I don't recall too much of last night, though I'm pretty sure Hughes was rapping. Also I was singing at one point. But the most important thing is that I accomplished my goal." He grinned.

"You became Fuhrer and changed Amestris for the better?" she asked.

"Uh, no. Not yet," he said. "I meant my other goal."

"You never told me about another goal," she said.

"Well of course I couldn't tell you about that goal," he said. "That would have defeated the purpose. Anyways, that's not important now. The important thing is that I succeeded. And we will go to dinner this Friday night."

"I – um – are you serious?" she asked.

"I'm as serious as - well, let's see, what's something really serious?"

"A heart attack?" she supplied.

"No, no, more serious than that," he said. "Oh! I know! You!"

"Sir, are you still drunk?"

"You're pretty serious, right? Well, I'm more serious then you are when you're trying to get me to do my paperwork," he said. "And, no, I'm not still drunk."

"Just drink your coffee sir," she said. "We should get you home soon."

"Not until you seriously agree to go out with me on Friday," he said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"Fine," she said. "What time will you pick me up?"

Roy grinned victoriously.

The End

Yeaaaahhhhh . . . Sorry. We apologize for any damaged psyche.

-halledean and mdotaku