Author's Note: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist or anything associated with it. Wish I did, but I don't.
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It had been a rather long and tedious day at Headquarters when Maes had finally struck Roy's last nerve. Prior to his old friend's rather sudden entrance about an hour earlier, Roy had been alternating between diligently doing his paperwork that Lieutenant Hawkeye demanded be done before the next day, and cursing out Fullmetal for all the work he had to complete.
Maes had run in to the office babbling wildly about his daughter, like always. This was the first time Mustang had seen Hughes in months due to their schedules both conflicting with even small talk. However, the Flame Alchemist was quite aggrivated that his friend had learned to come bombarding in when there were reports that, if Hawkeye were there with him, she would have her pistol next to his temple for some impetus to finish already.
"You can't refuse to look at this picture of Elycia! You've just got to see it!" Maes cried as Roy was shoving him out of the office.
"I have work to do and you're a distraction enough without pictures! Maes, go show them to Falman or something, just get out of the office so I can get some work done!" Roy retorted hotly. He was doing everything in his control to not barbeque Maes, and with his current stress level, it was remarkable he had yet to do so. In order to keep from doing so, Roy kept thinking that burning Maes alive would only lead to one more report, and one more report means one more angry Hawkeye.
"Just one, Roy! Come on, please! I'll even help you work!" Maes pleaded.
Roy wasn't too thrilled that he had to sit through Hughes' slideshow of pictures of his daughter. One learns that "just one" means "just one photo album" to his shutter-happy friend. However, he did offer to do some work...
"Fine, Maes. Just one."
Perhaps it was due to Roy's gloved hand being in snapping position on his desk, or maybe it was the Apocalypse, but Maes actually had only one picture of Elycia to present this time.
"Beautiful, Maes. Your daughter takes after your wife," he replied, "Now get to work."
Before long, Maes and Roy had finished up the pile of reports and other papers that had been plaguing Roy's desk for the past week. It was just about eight o'clock when Maes invited him over to his house.
"Gracia's made plenty of dinner, and though the ladies have had dinner already, there's plenty leftover if you would like to come over for a while. We could have some food, watch tv, and hang out like old times!"
Roy considered what he would be having at his apartment for dinner - some leftover takeout - and decided that it would probably benefit him some to have somewhat healthier food for dinner. The single lifestyle definitely did not allow a workaholic to eat remotely healthy without taking more time than necessary.
"Sure," Roy said as he grabbed his black jacket, "but can we at least stop to pick up some champagne and maybe a pack of Redbull? I would feel rude without some sort of gift for Gracia."
"What would Gracia need Redbull for, Roy? She'll be asleep!" Maes stated innocently.
"You're retarded," Roy stated quickly. To this comment, Maes went crying out the door and out to the parking lot, only to realize that the bastard colonel had driven them in this morning.
As Roy sighed at the sight of a spastic Hughes, he clarified his previous statement.
"Maes, you're retarded for the sheer fact that you DON'T LET ME EXPLAIN MYSELF before you go FLAILING OUT THE DOOR!" Mustang waited for Maes to focus in before he continued, "The Redbull would be for us. Duh. We haven't inhaled caffeine and watched television together in a while."
"Pansy. You want to be with me, don't you! YOU MISS ME! AREN'T YOU A LITTLE BUNDLE OF--"
"Maes, you even say the 'c'-word, I will burn you right here and now..."
"Right, I meant, I MISSED YOU TOO, OLD CHUCK!"
Hughes enveloped the now-agitated Mustang in a bear hug that would rival those of Major Armstrong's. Again, the urge to snap his fingers came over the near-suffocated Mustang, but deep down inside that heart of his, he really did miss his friend.
The two men walked out of Headquarters and to Mustang's car to drive to the Hughes residence for dinner while stopping quickly at a package store for some champagne and then a grocery store for some Redbull.
Once they got to the Lieutenant Colonel's house, they put the champagne in the refrigerator, and went into the den to watch some television.
They downed their Redbull and flipped around for something to watch. They eventually found some old reruns of Beavis and Butthead. The two grown men, fully caffenated at this point, found the show they used to mock, funnier than they ever remembered. Between reminiscing about funny memories from various parts of their friendship, to their newfound favorite television show, they flailed and laughed until they couldn't breathe.
Roy swore to God he was going to die from laughing this hard. He was even convinced that his lungs had been punctured by his ribs due to laughing so hard. Maes was thinking the same thing, but also thanking the same God he was swearing to for getting to spend some time with his old pal.
Eventually it got late and Roy said his goodbyes to his old friend. The two of them promised each other that next Friday, they were going to do this evening over again. Minus the paperwork.
As Roy was driving home, his sides still sore from laughing so hard, he realized this is what friends were for... Friends were there to make you question your sanity for knowing them, and then they were there to make you realize, you are in fact, the more saner one.