As always, I don't own this stuff.
As sleep deprived as he was, the Colonel made a point of rushing into his office that morning. He blurted out half-apologies to anyone whom he might have bumped into or otherwise disturbed. He practically flew over the puddle the janitor had carelessly left in the main corridor. And when he finally reached the door embellished with his name and rank, he slammed it shut. The last thing he needed was a group of nosy subordinates pestering him with questions he wasn't quite sure how to answer. He headed first for the mirror hanging to the left of his desk, and unbuttoned his shirt
Something had to be done about this.
There were tiny red bumps dotting his collarbone, continuing up his neck and across his stubbly chin. He had purposely not shaved that morning to camouflage those bumps. There were scattered patches of itchy redness all over his body, and it felt like there was sand all over. Even after he scrubbed himself vigorously in the shower, the maddening feeling never really went away.
He began itching and picking at a spot on his chest, seeking some tiny amount of relief, and felt something lodged under his fingernail. It appeared to be some type of tiny, red metal disk. He was slightly relieved that he hadn't contracted a rash, but still concerned that this might be some form of poison. He called Warrant Officer Vato Falman into his office and instructed him to shut the door.
"What exactly is this?" Mustang held his finger almost directly under Falman's nose, and the man had to step back to get a closer look. "These… things are all over my body!" Falman squinted his eyes and stared at the object.
"It appears to be glitter, sir. Tiny pieces of plastic, glass or metal, polished to reflect light. It's often used in cosmetics and clothing, as well as toys and children's school projects."
Mustang looked closer at the dot on his finger and flicked it to the floor.
"Well, how do I get it off?"
"Have you tried scrubbing, sir?" Falman arched his brow and folded his arms over his chest. It was very uncharacteristic of his commanding officer to be concerned with something as trivial as glitter. He could have asked any one of his thousands of lady friends about it. No doubt the glitter came from one of the ladies' dresses at the New Year's party Major Hughes had thrown the previous night. Many of them had taken advantage of the opportunity to dress in attire more flattering than the standard military uniform.
"Yes, Falman. That was the first thing that came to mind this morning."
"Well, Sir, there's nothing more that you can do. You appear to be having an allergic reaction to whatever material this particular glitter is made of. The most you can do is go to the infirmary and ask them how to remedy it. They'll more than likely give you a lotion made of both zinc and iron oxide…"
"Thank you, Falman. That's all I needed," Mustang cut him short and headed out the door, buttoning his collar. He was just leaving the office as his Lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye, was coming in. She stopped and saluted the Colonel.
"Good morning, Sir." She waited for him to return the salute before dropping her right arm and taking a seat at her desk. He took his time before reciprocating. There was something wrong with the way the Lieutenant looked today. And then, he saw it.
"Hawkeye, you have something right… there." Mustang pointed at a spot just above Riza's collar. She touched her neck without thinking and looked at her finger. The small speck barely warranted a second glance as she shook it from her fingertip into the trash.
When the Colonel returned from the empty infirmary still itching, there was a small bottle on his desk. A folded note was between the bottle and the rest of the paperwork Riza had brought for him to sign.
Roy,
It's just a little glitter. Next time, I'll wear something else.
Love,
Riza
This is the end result of weeks of writers' block on Steel. I hope you enjoyed it! REVIEW!
Qualy