The history of this fic: My sister is spoiled (I refuse to think of myself as whipped), because as her birthday roamed around she kept asking things like 'what are you writing for my birthday?'. Most of which was smut. (For those of who you read outside of this fandom, and Oneiric Lies (KH) was a past birthday commission and alot of my TF one-shots featuring Starscream are from her mind.) This year, she read the iTorchic's list fic, and was like "Uni, expand this one! This one two!". To which I said, only if she actually did some work and PM iTorchic to get permission. Which she did. Which then meant I wrote this in a week.
Each section is based off a single list item in iTorchic's fic, but many scenes involve several of them that I weaved in after reading the entire fic and thus I'm not excatly sure which numbers to assign to which section, but the number aren't that important anyways. Plus, I found them to disrupt the almost narrative tone this piece took on. So, read and review this fic and then go check out the story iTorchic wrote. There's a lot of good stuff in there that I didn't elaborate on in this derivative work.
Pranks
By Uniasus
Based on the fic 333 and More Ways to Get Kicked out of HQ by iTorchic
When Edward Elric had joined the military at age 12, he knew he was going to be the youngest one in blues. That was to be expected, and he was prepared for any kiddie comments that might come his way. As it turned out, he may have been the youngest in East City Headquarters, but he didn't act like it.
Roy Mustang hadn't been too sure what to do with him, and so had him stay all day in his office and boy was he bored. He didn't even have a book to read and Al wasn't talking to him after boredom turned him into sour company. Instead, his brother was listening to the lieutenant with the glasses explain something or other about phones, pointing to this and that as he tried to repair it. Ed understood that fixing something with alchemy wasn't always the answer, but it was the quickest way and to be honest he had no interest in phones.
He had transmuted a rubber ball instead and played catch with himself, throwing it up into the air and catching it from his position of laying on the floor. Not in the middle of the room of course, he wasn't that stupid. Plus, it was filled with desks.
"There's a dead body in here!"
The shout came from outside the office and instantly Ed was on his feet, unsure of what exactly he should do. He'd seen dead bodies before of course, much too recently as of late, and he wasn't to eager to see another. On the other hand, if it gave him something to do…
"What's so funny?" Al asked, drawing Ed's attention to him.
Al was looking at the blonde smoker, Halic?, who was trying to stifle a laugh in his fist.
"No-nothing," he choked out.
"There's a dead body in here too!"
Halic, no Havoc, bit his forefinger while his shoulders started shaking.
"You didn't, did you?" The red headed lieutenant breathed. Havoc just nodded his head and another declaration of a discovered body was heard through the door.
There was the sound of a gun cocking, and they all turned their attention to the one female in the room. Ed knew it was a threat of some type by the way everyone paled and he slowly started inching sideways to put his brother between him and her.
"Havoc, explain." It was Mustang who spoke, his desk at the end of the room wasn't far enough away for him to not notice something was going on.
"Well…the guys in investigations were bragging about how they have so little work to do that they play games all the time, so…I thought I should change that."
"How'd you convince them?" The red head, Brenda – no, that's a girl's name, Breda? - asked.
"Convince who?" the telephone geek spoke up.
"The new recruits who came in last week." Breda supplied, turning to answer his co-worker and then resettling his gaze on the blonde.
"Just, a couple of pictures."
"Pictures, who'd do something like this for pictures?" Ed asked. There was a ruckus outside; heavy footsteps, yells, laughs.
"We'll tell you when you're older." Mustang smiled over his steepled fingers. Ed snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, not liking the answer.
"How many did you convince?" Breda laid his cheek in a hand.
"All twenty. Investigations will be busy all day with this one."
The door slammed open and everyone in the room blinked at figure in the doorway. Well, except for the woman, Hawkeye, Ed remembered. She had a gun pointed at him instead.
"Mustang! We know you're behind this! And rest assured, we'll get you back, even if I have to call Hughes for ideas!"
Mustang, to Ed's surprise, paled and before the colonel could respond the solider was gone.
Havoc was all out laughing now, head on his desk and face buried into an elbow. Breda was snickering too.
"And that was?" Ed asked, still staring at the open door.
"The head of Investigations," the glasses guy supplied.
"So, what? You guys starting a prank war now?"
"Maybe," Brenda finished snickering, and picked up his pen again.
"This, isn't exactly what I thought the military would be like," Ed said slowly.
"Neither did I," Hawkeye breathed out, exasperated at the whole lot. "But, enjoy it while you can Edward."
East City HQ was known among the lower ranked soldiers as ground zero for the longest, most hilarious (to outside viewers of course) prank war in the history of the military. Colonel Roy Mustang's crew had made an enemy of the Investigations department and knowing that Hughes in Central knew intimate details about Mustang, East City's Investigation's head – John Karr – had called him up asking for advice. The result was Hughes acting as a puppet master from afar, while Mustang's crew was trying to hold down two fronts: East City HQ where the units battled and the post system where Mustang and Hughes sent prank items back and forth in their own private two-man war.
Which was why, when Mustang was transferred to Central HQ that the base held it's breath. Hughes and Mustang could now go head to head.
"We need something really good," Mustang said, pacing between the desks of his subordinates. "Something he won't expect."
"Us," Ed called out, and the small group of soldiers looked up to watch him come in. Alphonse came behind him, arms full of cans. Behind him was Major Armstrong, bags over his shoulder. Long, flat, handleless, black bags.
Body bags.
"Fullmetal, I think I like this idea already."
##
There was a strange type of knock on the door, and being nearest to it Maes Hughes went to answer. He pulled it open just in time to see Major Alex Armstrong lift up his foot, most likely to use it to knock as his hands were full.
With bodies. Three on each arm, and a seventh draped over his shoulder.
Hughes shoved his coffee mug into the hands of a warrant office standing behind him.
"Major! What happened?" He stepped forward and tugged on the lone body to relieve Armstrong, bending his knees as he took the weight. Man, this body weighed a ton.
"Well, I'm not entirely sure. I was walking in the East Wing when one of the generals asked me to bring these to you. I'm sure you'll be getting a full report soon. Do you have a table I can set these down on?"
"Yes, yes, of course. Actually, the ME's work across the hall." Hughes shifted the body in his arms and then looked over his shoulder to catch the eye of a lieutenant. "Do you think you could get the door Zanders?"
"Yes, sir."
The long metal table in the room was mostly empty, there was an ME working at the far end who came over to them as soon as they entered.
"What happened?" He asked, taking a body bag from Armstrong and laying it on the table.
"Not sure yet, the bodies beat the report, but we'll know soon enough." Hughes laid his own body down, and went to relieve Armstrong of another. Armstrong gently placed the remaining four on the table.
"Do you even know who's in here, Major?" Huges asked, shifting the bodies Armstrong had laid down so they weren't on top of each other.
"No, I do not sir."
"Well, let's find out." He reached for the zipper on the bag in front of him and pulled it down. Hughes had just enough time to think I know that face before his glasses were covered in a sticky, ropy foam and a familiar laugh sounded in his ears.
"Roy Mustang," Hughes had just enough time to say before Colonel's staff all unzipped the body bags they were hiding in, aimed their cans of silly string, and fired.
"HA!" And that would be Edward, Hughes thought.
He took off his glasses and gave them a shake, hoping that would clear them, but the plastic string stayed on. Hughes glared at Mustang, fuzzy outline that he was.
"Good to see you, Maes," his friend said, pearly whites showing.
"Yes, yes it is. Cuz if you're here that means no one's guarding your office and that makes my plan a lot easier to carry out."
Maes made a point of reading the newspaper everyday. It was essential to his job, keeping up with information, so he had the fortune of beginning every work day with his feet up, a coffee in hand, and the paper in front of him. The only upsetting thing was it wasn't very enjoyable. Most of the information in Central Times he already knew before it was printed. What the paper was missing, he mused out loud to his staff, was a gossip column.
"My husband works at the Times," a warrant officer said, "and they're planning on starting one next week. Maybe you should write for them, sir."
"And focus on military gossip." Another one of his staff suggested.
"We could attack a different member of Mustang's crew each week," a third suggested and Maes couldn't help the gleeful look that took over his face. That, was an excellent idea.
Only, it hadn't had quite the desired result. They had run an article on the 'guilty pleasures' of Mustang's staff, complete with slightly suggestive photos of each of the soldiers Maes had taken without them knowing. Each guilty pleasure had been a relatively cheap, frou frou item that wasn't meant to be liked by the person attributed to it. The mailing address at the article's end was then supposed to encourage the general populace to send the 'guilty pleasure' item to one of Mustang's staff in an indirect prank.
Havoc was happy, as he actually received two gifts. Although they were of the one cigarette brand he hated, they had been sent by women and that was enough. But in typical Havoc fashion, he received the least amount gifts. Falman got couple of empty flower pots, one filled with pictures of the women who sent it. Breda ended up with sketches of fairies, ranging from amateurish to those of a master. Fuery had been listed as liking romantic novels, which the funny thing was apparently he did. Half the books he received he had already read.
It really wasn't that much of a surprise to see the amount of caramel candy Hawkeye got. No one in Investigations was willing to prank her as an individual as opposed to being part of a group, and thus her real guilty pleasure was caramels. And that picture was bound to equal at least 20 packages. She got 25.
What was surprising was that Edward got in quite a haul. Maes had made up the idea that he secretly indulged in honey flavored lollypops and childhood bedtime stories, and the alchemist received at least a hundred of the lollypops and 40 books of bedtime stories (many of which were duplicates of course). Apparently, Ed had never heard of honey lollypops before and found them tasty. He had also never been told the bedtime tales depicted in the books. He read through the entire collection that day.
However, Mustang was rightly peeved and frustrated. His guilty pleasure of strawberries was actually his secret hate, as he was allergic to the fruit. Which Maes knew perfectly well. Which is why it was funny to stop in to see his friend and find the couch and the small table in front of it covered with containers of the fruit. The strawberry hand lotion had been claimed by Hawkeye, though Falman and Ed had both claimed a bottle. Ed said it was for Winry, and Falman declined to answer.
Ed had always had his nose in a book. Whether it was in Resembool or Central's library didn't mater, what did was that he was studious. And studious people don't drink.
Under normal circumstances, he most likely wouldn't have touched a single drop unless forced to during his coming of age party. Finding the Stone was too important, and he knew what alcohol did to the body and mind. Even before the store owner in Lior had yelled at him to get away from the fountain of wine, Ed had discarded the thought of drinking from it.
But Edward Elric, State Alchemist at twelve, gold eyes, and a hollow suit of armor for a brother wasn't normal even by the skewed standards alchemists were held by. He was raised, partly, by a military unit. And military men (and women on occasion) liked to drink.
"That's…a lot of bottles." Short, tall, round, and square, they ran the perimeter of Mustang's desk with the left over ten or so forming a smiley face in the center.
"Well, it is the Colonel's birthday," Breda offered.
"So?" Ed crossed his arms, and then flickered his eyes towards the door, posture ready to run. "I wasn't supposed to get him anything or something, was I?"
"Don't feel compelled do to something you don't want to do Edward." Hawkeye placed another bottle on the desk, giving the face a nose. "He's not here anyway, he's got the day off."
Havoc picked it up and whistled. "This is good stuff! Why can't I have beautiful ladies send me scotch for my birthday! Or have my birthday off." He slumped to the floor, bottle chinking against the wood, and cried. Falman patted him on the back.
"I mean!" Havoc continued sobbing, "I bet he hasn't even seen most of these ladies in months!" More tears.
Ed gave him a disgusted look. "Get a hold of yourself Havoc. Come Al, let's go. If the bastard isn't here, we'll just come back tomorrow." He turned to leave, but Breda threw an arm over his shoulder and Ed stumbled under the unexpected weight.
"You not going to stay and help?"
"Help with what?" Ed snarled.
"It's tradition. We have to make sure none of this has been poisoned."
Ed gave him a bland look. "You serious? It's all sealed. And I don't want any. I'm underage remember?"
"But there's more than usual this year." Fuery pointed out.
"Look, I can test it using alchemy if you guys are really serious about this – "
There was a soft metal crack and Ed looked over to see Falman had opened the bottle Havoc had been holding. He had found five shot glasses and was filling them.
"Right, I'm leaving." Ed made to shake of Breda's arm, but his grip just tightened.
"Come on, Ed. Just one? You're not even curious?"
"I know all about what that stuff does to your brain –"
"But not directly, am I right?" Hawkeye was only polishing her gun, there wasn't a reason to be pointing it at him, right? Ed nodded, eyes wide and watching the gun barrel.
"You should learn, and at least here we can keep an eye on you." She picked up a glass and handed it to him. "Drink."
Ed sputtered, and Al looked shocked too. "You serious, Lieutenant?"
Hawkeye just continued to hold out the shot. With a grimace, Ed took it. He started gloomily down at it.
"Best if you drink it all in one go," Breda offered and Havoc nodded in agreement.
So he did, and promptly wanted to spit it back out but swallowed. "That tastes awful."
"Well, scotch is an acquired taste." Falman said, passing around the rest of the glasses. Being one short, he took a swig straight from the bottle.
Breda removed himself from Ed's body. "Well, that bottle isn't poisoned, let's try the next one."
A clear liquid this time, than an amber one. Not everyone tried every bottle, but at least two people did. Ed thought. To be honest, he only remembered pieces of the night. There was something about Fuery attempting to climb down from the wall and swing from the banner hanging on the main gate. And redecorating Bradly's office – complete with a gargoyle guarded door. He remembered learning a few new songs too, but sadly couldn't recall anything more than a few phrases: "that lass of mine" and "round and chunky".
But that was relatively early in the night. Later on, Ed seemed to remember yelling, running, and fighting. Had they been attacked?
With a start he awoke, hands already clapping and his arm forming into a blade to point at the left eye of the person his body had subconsciously knew was there.
"Fullmetal." That was Mustang's voice.
Ed blinked and found a blurry Mustang's face look at him, slightly tensed. Well, he did have a blade pointed at his eye.
"Colonel?"
"Care to tell me why you were sleeping under my desk? And why the door to my office was barricaded from the outside?"
"Not so loud," Ed whined, deweaponizing his automail and placing his hand on his forehead. He had a killer headache, but the cool feeling of metal was nice.
"I'm not lo- is that a bottle of vodka in your lap?"
"What?"
Mustang reached between his legs and retrieved the bottle Ed didn't even know was there.
"This. Where did you get this?"
"Um…"
"Dammit." Mustang stood up, and a bright shaft of sunlight spilled into Ed's eyes. The teen made a pained noise, and protested even further as Mustang's arm grabbed his wrist to pull him up. Ed's head hit the bottom of the desk and he collapsed back on the floor in pain, head pressed to the floor.
"Bastard." He spat out.
And Mustang actually apologized. "Sorry." More gently, he pulled Ed out from under the desk and moved him to the couch in the small office.
"Now tell me, where did you get that bottle?"
"From you."
"Me?"
"Um..it was one of your birthday gifts."
"What?"
"You know, the alcohol you get every year for your birthday? Havoc said we had to test it for poison." The look on Mustang's face would have been funny if his head wasn't pounding so and he could see it properly.
"I get alcohol for my birthday?"
"You are old, if you can't remember that. Oowww." Mustang swatted his head.
"So Havoc gave you some?"
"No…Hawkeye."
"Hawkeye?"
Ed just nodded, and then curled up. "Please don't hit me again."
"I'm not – " Mustang sighed. "Who did, by the way? That's a nasty black eye."
"I have a black eye? Oh, that explains the vision."
Mustang disappeared and Ed fell backwards on the couch, closing his eyes and hoping for a little rest.
"Here," there was a bag of ice over his left eye suddenly, and if he didn't know any better he would have thought Mustang's tone sounded soft. But his next words threw that thought out the window. "Now tell me everything that happened."
"We drank, stopped Fuery from climbing down the wall, decorated the Furhur's office, and then I think we got attacked."
"By who?"
"Do'no."
Mustang sighed. "Fine, I'll ask someone else once they come in. Don't know why I came in early today. Why were you barricade in here?"
"I was?"
"Yes, yes you where." Mustang sounded exasperated. "And where's your brother?"
"Al's…do'no." Ed muttered, really wanting Mustang to just shut up so his headache would go away.
There was the sound of soft clacks, heel footsteps, and Mustang moved towards the doorway between offices. "Hawkeye," Ed heard him call, "Why was Fullmetal barricaded in my office? And why is your wrist in a splint?"
"Sir, Edward apparently is an angry, angsty drunk. With genius alchemy skills. Did you not notice the holes in the floor throughout the building? There are a couple of melted statues too. We barricade him in your office so he wouldn't injure us, but as it is you won't be seeing Havoc in today."
"You are never, and I mean never lieutenant, to allow him to drink ever again."
"Understood, sir. I wasn't planning on it, sir."
Cars were a rare thing in Amestris. They were expensive for one, only wealthy families and the military could afford them. And two, the roads between towns were terrible to drive on. They were bumpy and the ruts from wagon wheels didn't line up with car tires. Considering how few cars existed, there was a surprisingly large percentage of the population who knew how to drive them. That's because it was a military rule that everyone know how to drive.
Once he turned sixteen, the military was willing to let Ed learn and Havoc had scheduled a day to have a car to teach him. The only trouble was, the blonde smoker was still using crutches to due his broken leg. Ed had apologized profusely, even though he did not remember anything from that night they 'checked for poison', but it didn't change the fact that Havoc wouldn't be able to teach him and who knew when they would be able to have the opportunity to use a car again.
"I'll teach you," Mustang offered after hearing about the problem.
"You?" Ed snorted. "I don't want to spend any more time with you than I need too."
"You just want to get out of paperwork for the day," Breda accused. Hawkeye wasn't in the room to threaten the colonel, she was out delivering files.
"Take it or leave it Fullmetal."
Ed gave on last look at Havoc and then threw his hands in the air. "Fine, I'll take it. I've been wanting to do this for ages."
##
"Okay Fullmetal, there are three pedals."
"I can count you know," Ed grumbled, but Mustang pushed on anyway.
"The one on the left engages the forward gears, the one in the middle the reverse gear, and the one on the right is the brake."
"I thought this lever here was the break." Ed poked said lever. It stood up from the floor of the car in the middle of the front seat.
"You have two brakes. That's the emergency/floor break aka the handbrake. The one by your feet controls the transmission only."
Ed huffed, but stayed silent and listened to Mustang explain things. "The lever on the steering wheel? That's the throttle. It controls the amount of gas that gets delivered to the engine. "
"How fast can these things go?"
"Faster than I'm comfortable with."
Ed stuck his tongue out at Mustang. "I'm driving, so I get to say how fast we'll be going."
"I doubt you could even get us moving on your first try."
"Oh yeah? I think you're forgetting something Colonel."
Mustang felt the beginnings of a frown on his face. "Really?"
"Yup. I'm a genius."
Before Mustang could prevent him, Ed pushed the handbrake fully forward and nudged the wheel lever as high as it could go. The car rolled at a normal speed for half a car length, then Ed took his foot off the left pedal and the vehicle took off. Ed had to quickly turn the wheel to prevent hitting the car parked across from them head on.
"Fullmetal!" Mustang roared, one hand on the roof and the other against the side panel in an effort to balance himself.
Ed just threw back his head and laughed. "Let's see how fast this thing can go!" He zoomed out of the parking lot, but was off on turning the corner to get on the street. The car ended up with it's right two wheels on the sidewalk, three men and a young women lying panting on the grass after having dived out of the way in time.
"You could have hit one of them!" Mustang craned around in the seat to look back at the civilians.
Ed glanced up in the rear-view mirror, then returned his attention to the road in front of him. "Nah, they're all pretty good divers. Now lets see. That's the gas, let's try the brakes."
The car screeched to a halt as Ed grabbed the handbrake and pulled it back suddenly, pressing down on the foot break at the same time. The engine sputtered, and the car spun on it's back wheels before stopping in the middle of the street sitting over the lane divider line.
"Fullmetal. I order you to get out of the car this minute. I'll drive back to HQ."
"What? No! I haven't even gone three blocks! And I think I got it now."
"No, you don't. You're a danger to everyone. Now get out of the car before I have to force you."
Ed didn't listen. He released the foot brake and pushed the handbrake forward, stepping on the middle pedal at the same time. The car shot backward, through the house behind them. There were screams and the sounds of glass and wood breaking. In a panic, Ed activated both brakes again and the car squealed to a stop in the same position it had been before, just, on the next street over.
There was silence, as the pair of them looked at the hole in the house in front of them.
"You know, maybe you should drive," Ed began in a small voice.
"A house. You destroyed a house Fullmetal!" Mustang gestured widely with both hands towards the sagging building.
"I can fix that easily you know," Ed replied meekly, sinking into his seat.
Mustang turned to glare at him, eye narrowed. He brought up a gloved hand. "You have three seconds to get out of car."
"Um Colonel, the gas this thing runs on is flammable."
"I don't care."
"UrrguGah."
They both froze, and then paid attention to the space between the ruined house and the front of the car. There was a body lying there, a young girl with pig tails. Ed blanched, and Mustang didn't breathe. "Fullmetal. You actually hit someone."
"Is, is she alright?"
Neither of them moved, though proper etiquette dictated that they both should have to help the child out. Instead, they just watched her push herself up with her arms, and then slowly get to her feet. She grew as she stood up, becoming taller somehow, and then with a slow rising flash of light changed clothes and sported long green locks.
"NO I AM NOT ALRIGHT!" Envy screamed. He pointed a finger at Ed. "I'm gonna get you, pipsqueak!"
"Drive! Drive!" Mustang yelled, pressing back into his seat. Who cared if Ed sucked at it, it was true he could fix any damage and if they gave plenty of warning the people on the streets could avoid them. It would take too much time to switch positions.
"I'm going, I'm going!" Ed turned the wheel before releasing the brakes and the car made a hairpin turn. It swerved from one side of the street to another as he kept over adjusting when trying to straighten the vehicle out, but it served to make Envy miss as he threw pieces of the road he ripped out at them.
"I'm never. Ever. Driving with you again Fullmetal."
"Fine with me! You're full of bad luck!"
One of the first things you are told as a new recruit in the Amestrian Army was that alchemists were dangerous. They should never be tried to be dealt with alone, and it was rare that anyone less than a rank of Major would be able to handle one. Even then, it was a bit of a task for some officers to control them. Example one – Colonel Mustang and Major Elric. The younger was certainly was not fully controlled.
Of course, just because you're told something doesn't mean the lesson will stick. Some had to learn first hand that you should never got against an alchemist unless you are one yourself. And the main reason is that they play dirty.
Bored, and lacking a driving instructor, Edward Elric the Fullmetal Alchemist, had transmuted go-karts in order to practice driving and did so on courses he created as he went along through Central HQ's grounds. Of course, races between multiple racers began and it quickly became evident that Elric liked to cheat. He called it using every advantage one could, but transmuting guns on his go-cart and creating sudden roadblocks for his opponents was determined to be a solid definition of cheating.
And so Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, was called in to beat the blonde's butt. Only…it didn't turn out that way. Mustang was a one trick pony, he could only shoot flames at Fullmetal, which the younger alchemist was proving quite adept at extinguishing with his car-side water gun.
The Fuhrer wasn't to pleased at the damage down to the command complex, but had been rather entertained while watching from the roof. He considered starting an Alchemist Go-Kart circuit, complete with audience participation by throwing things onto the track. Bananas would work well.
Considering the prank war going on between the two departments, Edward was never sure what to think when he spotted Hughes in the Colonel's office. Was Hughes there to gloat, was a prank going on he was about to walk in on, did he have more pictures, or was there something serious the two were actually talking about?
But this time was a little different. They were sitting facing each other across Mustang's desk, a board with figures on it between them. Ed came in just as Hughes pointed a finger at Mustang and declared "You killed him! With the knife in the ballroom!"
Shit. Mustang was a murder suspect. "Um, I'll just come back later, once you're done here Hughes."
Both men ignored him.
"Wrong." Mustang challenged. Hughes narrowed his eyes, and then turned in his chair to point at Ed.
"Then it was you. In the library with the letter opener!"
"WHO'RE YOU CALLING TOO SMALL TO USE REAL WEAPONS?" The words were out of his mouth before he could speak. "I mean, no! I didn't kill anyone!" He waved his hands front of his face, backing away.
Mustang snickered. "We're playing a game, Fullmetal."
"Oh. Does Hawkeye know?"
"I do now."
It wasn't something Havoc had expected to find in Central's newspaper. Heck, it wasn't something he had expected to find in any paper but there it was in the classified section, lacking any of the embellishments of bold or large letters like the ones around it.
Dublin pimp looking to take on students.
Just one simple line, but one simple line that promised to change his life forever.
And it did. Greed was a smooth talking guy with pointy teeth that always had a girl hanging off each fur lined, leather jacketed arm. Havoc never got that good, but he did manage to get the attention of a voluptuous woman by the name of Solaris.
But he felt cheated when he realized that both his girl and man coach were homunculi. Havoc was so bad, only the non-human ones would give him a chance.
"Wait, you never finished school? Of any type?"
Edward rolled his eyes at Fuery's question and left it to Al to answer. "I finished 3rd grade, and Brother finished 4th."
The soldiers just started at the pair of them. Ed gave a low growl. "What? We became apprentices to Teacher and stopped going to school."
"I always assumed you at least finished elementary school," Hawkeye said.
"I was with Tucker when the kids from Resembool would have finished."
No one said anything, and Ed felt they were probably lamenting over his and Al's lost childhood or something again. Which was stupid, as they still treated him like a kid so it wasn't like they saw him as having completely lost it.
"I thought it was required for all military personal to have completed at least eight years of schooling." Mustang's voice filtered in from his office, and soon enough the bastard himself was standing propped against the doorframe.
Ed gave him a level stare. "I thought that was just to make sure idiots couldn't get in. Plus, I'm pretty sure passing the written part of the alchemy exam is a lot more impressive."
"That may be, but rules are rules. I'm enrolling you in the elementary school down the street. You can start tomorrow."
"What? No!"
"Why? Don't think you can pass?"
Ed ground his teeth, and then crossed his arm and turned his head away, grumbling expletives under his breath.
##
Mustang actually walked him to the school the next day. Ed thought it would have been Havoc or Falman or someone else, but no~o it had to be the bastard.
"Look at that Fullmetal, the desks are your size."
"Who are you calling shorter than an infant?"
The twinkle in Mustang's eye screamed 'you, of course' but before Ed could punch him the principle showed them into his office.
"Now, I understand that you wish to enroll Edward here in the fifth grade."
"That's right." Mustang nodded. "And as he's a ward of the State, I'm here as his guardian."
"May I ask what took the State so long in enrolling Edward in a school?" It was obvious the principle didn't think much of Mustang at the moment, and that was perfect in Ed's eyes. He was starting to like this guy.
Mustang swallowed. "This was, the first opportunity I've had to do so."
"Uh-huh." The principle ran his eye's down Mustang's form with a disapproving frown, and then turned to look at the file on his desk – Ed's record.
"It's been a while since you've been in school Edward, do you think you could handle a fifth grade curriculum?"
He snorted. "Yes, it'll be easy."
The principle gave a 'we shall see' look and then stood up. "Well, if you two want to follow me, I'll show you to Mrs. Compton's class. She'll be your teacher."
Mrs. Compton was an old, gray, and wrinkly woman who saw the world through a pair of thick cat's eyes glasses. Ed suspected she couldn't see very well, but simply had memorized the books cover to cover and taught from that. Which wasn't that bad, it was slightly impressive that she had memorized the books, but he already knew his times tables thank you very much and had no desire to sit through a lesson on how to multiply.
So he stared out the window. And Mrs. Compton noticed. Though Ed didn't notice her standing next to his desk for a good ten seconds before she cleared her throat. "Care to tell us what's so interesting Edward?"
The class giggled and someone in the back of the room made an 'Ooo' sound. Ed gritted his teeth, but answered anyway. "Just the people walking around."
"Well, while we're in class I want you to pay attention."
"But I already know it all!"
"Oh, you're a know-it-all," A girl in the front of the class sing-songed. Mrs. Compton sent the child a harsh glare, and she turned her eyes to her desk.
"If you already know your times tables up to five, then you can start to memorize the sixes."
"I know those too."
"Then move on to sevens."
"Know it."
"Eights."
"Those too."
At this point, the class was holding it's breath, preteens leaning forward to see what Mrs. Compton would do.
"All right, how high do you know?"
"I memorized up to the 30s, but I can do any calculation involving numbers less than 1,000 in my head no problem. I also memorized the first twenty perfect squares and perfect thirds, not to mention –ow!"
"Don't lie to me young man!" Mrs. Compton gave another yank on his right ear lobe. "I do not tolerate fibbers in this class room."
"Fuck woman! I'm not lying! I'm a fucking state alchemist who passed the test at the age of twelve and the only reason I'm in this awful place is because my bastard CO signed me up based on some stupid rule he probably pulled out of his ass –"
At this point, Ed realized the entire class was staring him. Kids with open mouths, and Mrs. Compton was flopping her lips like a fish.
"I, well, I, I've never – GO TO THE PRINCIPLE'S OFFICE RIGHT NOW!"
So he did. And took a test to test out of fifth grade, passed, and the proceeded to take the test for every grade above that up to twelfth. Finished before the school was out, Ed decided to put his chemistry skills to good use. He built a Molotov cocktail and chucked it through a window in Mustang's house. Served the bastard right.
It was a tradition that people in Amestris linked to an old harvest festival, but in reality it was something not even twenty years old. The Fuhrer had just had a party to celebrate marring his wife and it got turned into an annual event. A party that Edward Elric have never been invited to. Not even now that he was legal.
That, he decided, wouldn't do.
So two hours into the party the north wall of the ballroom split open in a flash of light, a heavy skull and bone door appearing and swinging inward. And entering between them was none other than the Elric brothers, the short one in front.
"Right," Ed said, hands on hips as he took in the surprised looks of all the guests. "Al start the music."
"Okay, nii-san."
From the small radio tied to Alphonese's wrist came very distinctive music. And then came the sound of heavy footsteps as every statue and sculpture in the HQ grounds filed in through the doors and began to conga. The brothers had managed to get around the entire room once, with half of the guests joining the line before it got interrupted.
Colonel Roy Mustang gave both brothers a tremendous one armed push, forcing them through the doors they had entered and shutting it behind them. The conga line kept going for another half revolution around the room before it came to a halt as the animated art at the front of the line stopped moving. The ball's guests were rather disappointed.
"How stupid can you be Fullmetal, crashing the Fuhrer's ball?"
"What? It's cuz I'm never invited!"
"That's because you've crashed it every year since you were thirteen."
"That's cuz he's stupid enough to still not invite me."
Mustang fingered the bridge of his nose. "Tomorrow, we will have a long talk about this. But for now, I want you out of my sight."
Ed huffed. "Fine." He watched the colonel's retreating back. "But you can't deny you didn't enjoy it!"
Mustang didn't give any notice he heard, just walked around to the proper entrance to the ballroom to reenter the party. The thing was, for the past hour the guests had been talking in secret trying to guess when and how Fullmetal was going to crash the ball. It was consistently one of the more boring events of the year, aside from Fullmetal's entrances, and Mustang had a suspicion Fuhrer Bradley knew this and thus purposely didn't invite the teen alchemist as a source of free entertainment and incentive for guests to come.
Not that he would tell Fullmetal that.
Edward had decided from the beginning, his brother's lack of a body was his fault and thus his responsibility to fix. He would do anything, anything to return Al to normal. He had even proved that he was willing to sacrifice the lives of others. And in a world where all is one and one is all, was his own life really worth more than any of those convicts he had planned on turning into a Stone? But while they had all guessed that the thought travelled through Ed's head, had made little token comments here and there against such an action, they would have been completely blinded sided by Envy's ability to let bygones be bygones. If Ed ever told them.
"Well, if you're just so powerful that I can't beat you-" Ed gritted his teeth at Envy's sarcastic tone, but refrained from attacking, "and this is the third time we've fought without a clear winner, I guess there's just only one thing left: make you an offer."
"Like I'd accept a deal from you!"
"But, but, I'm part of the dark side!"
"Exactly!"
"Even though it means we have cookies?"
And Ed froze. "…cookies?"
Envy nodded. "Baked fresh every day by my dear old Mom."
"You have a mom?" Ed stared in disbelief, arms lowering.
"Yes, I do! And she was better than yours!"
Ed growled, and launched himself at the homunculus. Envy dodged with a twirl. "Okay, okay! Your mom can bake cookies too!"
"Wha?" In his confusion, Ed didn't notice Envy's stuck out foot and tripped over it. Wiping away the blood the welled up when he bit his lip as he hit the ground, the alchemist glared at Envy.
"Look pipsqueak, you join me and you get really cool clothes, some nice tats, and all the Philosopher's Stones you want."
And suddenly Ed felt really stupid. Because why was he going through all this trouble fighting people who had things he wanted? Catch flies with honey and all that. Be nice to those who can give you what you want.
"These cool clothes, can they include platform boots?"
Envy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."
"Then I'm in."
"Welcome to the family, Pride."
"That's a stupid name."
Envy poked him, hard, in the flesh shoulder. "Deal with it, we aren't giving you a choice. Plus, we're supposed to be a secret family, so don't tell anyone."
Ed glared at him. "If these cookies aren't the best I've ever tasted, I'm gone."
It hadn't been meant to work. Tying a sleeping Fullmetal to a chair, and the balloons to the chair in an effort to see how many were needed to lift him was supposed to be more of an attempted prank. They had expected the teen to wake up before there were enough balloons attached to the chair. And to be honest, they hadn't expected to actually be able to tie enough balloons to the chair to lift it and the alchemist into the air.
But Ed must have stayed up late the night before for he never woke up and they must of miscalculated Ed's weight because the balloons lifted the teen into the air. Mustang and most his subordinates watched as the contraption rose, not quite believing what they were seeing.
It was at this point that Alphonse and Hawkeye walked up.
"Have any of you seen Edward?" she asked, refusing to follow their gaze upward. Al had no qualms though.
"What's that?"
"Fullmetal." Mustang replied, and Hawkeye finally looked up. There was…something in the air, floating via balloon power about the height of the roof and still rising. "We tied him to a chair while he was sleeping and tied balloons to the back." He sounded flat, as if not quite believing what he was seeing.
He probably wasn't.
"What if he falls?" Al exclaimed.
"Well, we tied him to the chair," Breda explained, "So I'm more worried about what'll happen when he wakes up."
"He's asleep?"
Hawkeye contemplated shooting the balloons, but by this point Ed was too high and the growing wind was making things difficult. In fact, Ed was now rising and moving sideways. And judging the faint yell of alarm she had just heard the blonde alchemist was rather awake.
"You will get a car," she ordered the men in the unit, "And follow him. You will try to get him down safely, and if he falls you better do your damnest to make sure he lands on something soft. Even if it's yourselves."
They all gulped, but agreed.
And…failed.
Not twenty minutes into the mission, storm clouds rolled in and swallowed Ed and his balloon chair. They lost him over Central's main square, fifteen stories up in the air, and the seriousness of the situation really set in. It was raining hard, thunder rolled through the city blocks, and while no one saw lightening bolts the sky would flash from time to time. They gathered the assistance of a weather expert to have him help estimate where the wind might take Ed (Mustang said Ed had sent himself up, but a cock of Hawkeye's gun had him quickly telling the truth) and followed the probable path out into the countryside.
"What's that?" Fuery pointed out the window, stretching his arm across the bodies of Falman and Mustang to do so. Hawkeye didn't look, she was driving, but everyone else did.
"It looks like a giant parachute. A very colorful one." Falman offered.
"But what's it doing on top of a barn?"
"Miss Hawkeye, I think that might be Brother. If he knew he was falling, I'm sure he'd so something to slow his dissent."
Hawkeye nodded, and ignoring the lack of roads drove the car over the field of grass to reach the barn. It did hold Ed, who was unconscious and guarded by a flock of sheep. They had refused anyone to get near the teen, and Mustang was forced to walk in the rain to knock on the farmer's door to ask for help. When they finally retrieved Edward, his automail arm was smoking and his hair stood on end like he had been electrocuted.
Which apparently he had been. Ed woke up with the plan to commit bloody murder, but was unable to get out of bed. His right arm had been struck by lightening no less than five times, melting the insides and burning the skin around the port. The skin around his leg port was frostbitten, as it hadn't had received the warmth of electricity. With only two limbs attached, Ed hadn't been able to attack Mustang. Which, Hawkeye thought, was too bad.
Most people on used piñatas at children's birthday parties. They were small, usually cutesy, and hit with a stick while hanging from a tree. They were not supposed to be seven feet tall, resemble a real person, and hang from a wire strung between Central Command and the outer wall.
Usually, such a sight would bring the entire compound to the area for a closer look. But when the Fullmetal Alchemist is in the area juggling sticks of dynamite, most soldiers found out they suddenly caught a bug and needed to go home early.
"Fullmetal," Mustang asked as he slowly approached, "Why is there a huge piñata of Envy above your head? And TNT in you hand?"
"He fucking lied about those cookies, and as he's not nearby to blow up, this will have to do."
It wasn't rare for Mustang's unit to spend most of the time staring out the window, but it was pretty rare for them to have the time to spend being outside. Every once in awhile, in order to get it through her co-workers heads that paperwork wasn't evil, Riza'd organize an event they would want to participate in and only allowed it to happen if all the work was taken care of. It usually was in such cases.
And thus, on a hot August day, Mustang's unit was engaged in water balloon fight. Riza had expected the day to be memorable because of her in a wet t-shirt (black, as they were all in various degree of military dress and she wasn't stupid – she knew what would happen if she wore a white one), but the day stuck out in all of their minds for a completely different reason.
They found out Edward had a tattoo.
The blonde had taken his shirt off to wring the water out of it, and there, sitting on his left shoulder, was a rusty red ouroboros tattoo.
"Brother!" Al shrieked, running over and grabbing Ed's arm. Ed pulled it out of his grasp. "Does this have to do with how you were sneaking around all the time last month?"
Ed refused to answer, and Riza took the opportunity to take Edward's arm herself. This close, she could tell it was a real tattoo, but just to make sure she licked her thumb and rubbed the digit over the design. Nothing changed.
Well, the men in her unit went a little pale, frosty, and suspicious.
And Gluttony's sudden appearance didn't help matters.
No one had noticed the fat homunculus and so him jumping from the wall and landing between Edward and the rest of the unit had them all spring into action. Riza's gun, and the colonel's gloves, were on the ground a bit of a ways away. They had been placed there so they wouldn't get ruined by a stray water balloon, but it was a failed precaution. The only people able to fight at the moment were Ed and Al. If Edward wanted too.
As it turned out, Gluttony wasn't looking for a fight, just Edward.
"Miss you," the fat sin said, finger in his mouth. With a sigh, the teen patted Gluttony on the stomach and the homunculus took off just as suddenly has he had appeared.
Edward gave another sigh, and then collapsed into a heap on the floor as Havoc knocked him out with a shovel he had found.
"Sorry Boss, but we can't take any chances."
##
When one usually wakes up, they're in their own bed. Or a friend's couch if the night before was rather hectic. Or the office if one had to stay at work late / help set up a prank for Investigations. Thus, Edward was rather surprised wake up and find himself tied to a chair. He panicked at first, the last time he was in such a position he was a mile above the city, but quickly realized that there was a floor beneath his feet and there was no bone chilling wind running down his shirt. There was no wind at all. In fact, the air was a little stale due to the lack of windows. And the damp coolness that spoke of being underground.
He thought back to what he could remember to explain his situation: water balloon fight, the unit noticing his tattoo, and then Gluttony. Whose appearance killed any chance he might have had in explaining the tattoo as the result of a dare. Even though, it kinda was one.
He dropped his head forward to hit the table and bit back a wince when he realized it was a metal table. Ow.
A few minutes later the sound of a door opening reached his ears, and Ed turn his head on the table to see Hughes and Mustang walk in, serious looks on their faces. Fuck.
With a sigh, he pushed himself upright and forced himself to relax into the back of the chair. Hughes sat down across from him in the only other chair, and Mustang was forced to lean against the wall behind him.
"Let's start out simple, did you know had that tattoo Ed?"
"Yes."
"When'd you get it?"
"You know how the doctor misjudged the amount of drugs to give me after the bastard over there sent up me in a make shift hot air balloon?" Ed pointed his chin at Mustang, with his hands tied behind his back and far enough apart where he couldn't clap, he couldn't point with anything else.
The older two men snickered. Apparently he had been as high as a kite, talking to the trees outside, and absolutely convinced that his IV stand was a roommate who wouldn't stop hitting on him. He didn't remember that part; he just remembered the tail end of it. Where he was still pretty loopy and all his decisions were stupid in hindsight, but brilliant then. When Envy showed up.
"You know how I wasn't in for the first night check came around, and you guys searched Central looking for me?"
Both men nodded. "You know, I did find you passed out near a tattoo parlor." Mustang said.
"Well, there you go. I was high because the doctor gave me a dose for someone with four limbs instead of two, and decided to get a tattoo."
"Of an ouroborus?" Hughes raised an eyebrow.
"Well, not exactly. Envy was the one to convince me to go in the first place, and I didn't in particular care what I got, so he just said I should get the family crest and I was like sure! That works! But I had been thinking the cross and he had been thinking his family crest, since I was now a member, and I didn't find out I was wrong until the next morning, so I went to the church to kick his ass."
Mustang just stared at him blankly, but Hughes held up a hand. "Wait a minute, you were working with them?"
Ed squirmed. It had been a brief stint, not long enough to count. "Well, Envy promised a lot of things."
"Like Stones," Mustang guessed, and Ed lowered his shoulders in defeat.
"Yeah, among other things. But he never delivered, so I changed my mind and left after a few weeks."
"Does this have anything to do with that giant piñata of Envy you exploded?"
"Maybe…"
"Look Ed," Hughes began. "Even you joining for a brief time doesn't look good for you. Did you learn anything useful, so I can tell the higher ups that you're really on our side?"
"Well, they're made using Stones. And they eat them too. And they're controlled by someone called Dante, though I don't know who she is. And-" he cut himself off.
"And, Fullmetal?" Mustang prompted.
"Well, it's kinda personal."
"We still need to hear it Ed."
Ed looked up towards the ceiling. "Envy's my half brother, from Dad's side. Or was when he was alive. Stupid, fucking, old man –"
Both Mustang and Hughes paled at the string of curses coming out of Ed's mouth. It was a full five minutes before he was done, having gone from cursing Hoenenhim to cursing a number of the homunculi and then himself.
"Right then," Hughes said, not too sure if it was a good time to be chipper or not. "Let's get those bindings off you."
"Fullmetal, didn't you say something about cookies right before you blew up that piñata?"
And Ed went off again, this time just cussing out Envy.
A/N: Halfway through writing this I realized, hey, this is for the most part a happy fic. And the thought stunned me. Because I don't typically do that. So thanks again iTorchic for great base material.
Oh, and I guess I should say happy birthday to my sister too. Happy Birthday! Hope you enjoyed it!
1- Ed and bedtime stories. I kinda had the idea that Hohenheim told Ed and Al Xerxes bedtime stories, and Trisha continued to do so after her husband left.
2- I based Ed's driving lesson off the workings of an old Model T Ford, which did have three pedals, a handbrake, and throttle lever.
So, reviews are nice. As are sparkles. But not Armstrong sparkles. I'm thinking magical fairy sparkles. Anyone have some to share?