A/N- This was originally written for Live Journal's fma_fic_contest: Subject: Prompt 71, Fake. (I'd be a fake if I alleged owning FMA.)
This is a MOUSTACHE-FREE fic! Yes! Even Grumman has shaved.
l====l
Roy sat in his study, fingers pressed against his temples, willing the percussion section in his head to be quiet. He's been Fuhrer for six months now, and it feels like he's been trying to swim upstream through molasses. Grumman had spent his term as Fuhrer reunifying and rebuilding Amestris, so the old man hadn't had a chance to develop a democracy. Roy wanted to get the democracy rolling and establish a health care system, as well as continue his Ishbalan projects. However, the council delegates were not cooperating at all, probably afraid that they'd lose their !#$% jobs if the people had their say. Well, that could happen to Roy, too! Tough darts.
"You are a worthless idiot. A good example of someone who has risen to his highest level of incompetence," he berated himself. He didn't notice the study door open.
"Who are you yelling at, Daddy?" piped the squeaky little cartoon voice of young Maes.
Roy took a breath and smiled at the little fellow in the doorway. "Sorry, Maes. I was just yelling at myself."
"Were you bad, Daddy?"
"Well, not exactly bad, but I am cross with myself for not being able to get some things done."
"I'll help you, Daddy, but Mommy says for you to come out now. Pop Pop is here. He brought me a new book."
"That's nice, son. I'll be right out."
A relaxed General Grumman stood up and shook Roy's hand. When Grumman sat down, Maes took advantage of his great-grandfather's lap. "Read it to me, Pop Pop," he said with a cadence that indicated he had spent a lot of time around army officers.
"That wasn't polite, Maes. When you want someone to do something for you, you should ask nicely and say please," Riza admonished her son.
"Pleeease read it to me Pop Pop."
"I would be happy to, my boy. Just let me talk to your daddy for a minute," Grumman laughed and stroked Maes' hair. He smiled (possibly smirked) at Roy, who had settled on the sofa next to Riza and put his arm around her. "How is it going with you and your job, young man?"
Roy rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I must have been insane to want this position! I'm so overwhelmed that I almost feel like I'm still blind! I don't know what I'm doing," Mustang groaned. "I never thought that it would be this difficult to implement projects that are beneficial for virtually everyone! I am so lost. How did you do it? Any suggestions? What does a real Fuhrer do?" he asked the man who had held the position before him.
Grumman laughed. "I can't speak for Bradley – who knows how a homunculus operates- but I was totally lost, too."
"You could have fooled me," Roy remarked.
"Heh. Nothing can prepare a person to lead a country. My best advice to you is to do what I did- act like you know what you're doing. Fake it!"
l====l
A/N- "Pleeease review ssadropout's fic," requests Maes Mustang, very politely. "That's a good boy," says Riza.
Thanks for reading. Take care.