Author's Note: I'm sure you all know that I own nothing related to Fullmetal Alchemist or anything pertaining to anime. So I was at work, listening to Christmas music over the speakers when Blue Christmas came on. This one wasn't sung by Elvis Presley, it was a woman. She sounded so heartbroken and I couldn't help but think up a story! Enjoy, and don't let mom and dad catch you under the mistletoe!

Blue Christmas**

"Sorry to leave you sittin' here pal, but we've gotta book!" Havoc said as he swung his coat over his shoulder, that cigarette in his mouth was getting ready to drop and leave a nice burn mark on Roy's floor "Wish you could come, but what with that strep throat you have and all. None of us want to get sick, can't afford it."

Roy sat on his couch, a blanket draped around his shoulders and grunted as Havoc turned the knob to leave. A scowl hung on his lips, and more than anything Roy cursed the Heavens above for plaguing him with a contagious illness on one of the most fun nights of the year, besides his birthday.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you everything that happens, I promise." Havoc said with a wink.

"Or rather what you'll be able to remember!" Roy said with a raspy cough.

A candy cane hit Roy on the side of his head as Havoc plucked one from the lonely little Christmas tree by the door and threw it dart style at the Flame Alchemist's temple. "Quit your belly-aching and take your sickness like a man already. If you get lonely, bake some gingerbread men to keep you company."

"I'll make one that looks just like you and bite his head clean off!" Roy shouted as the door to his apartment shut. Now what the hell do I do? He thought candidly to himself. All his mind wanted to do though was wander to what he'd be doing at the party when he showed up. No doubt he'd be tossing back several eggnogs with the fellas while Riza would sit in the corner, trying to act all dignified but in reality wanted to join in on the men's rowdy behavior. Everyone who was drunk enough would be singing Christmas songs for karaoke and poor Armstrong would have to carry Roy home over his shoulder like he did the previous year. Wow, that was a great time.

The thing that disappointed Roy the most was that Maes Hughes, his best friend if you suppose, but Roy doesn't like labels like that, didn't even bother to call or show up to say how much he'd miss his "Bad influence" at the party. Roy knew that he knew of the strep throat issue because he practically shoved Roy into the wall of his office, fighting him off since Roy found it hilarious that secretly Hughes was a germo-phobe and hypochondriac and all Roy wanted to do was give him a hug as he heavily breathed all over Maes' face.

The crew was kind enough to leave Black Hayate in Roy's care, since the pup is an avid chewer and cannot be trusted alone just yet. Right now, the little guy was lying on his belly on the kitchen floor in front of his food dish with his nose millimeters away from the edge of the bowl. As Roy moved himself into the kitchen to grab some soup, he nudged the puppy to try and stir him awake. "I know babies need their sleep but I need some company! Now get up." He picked up the dog and stood him upright on all four paws. However, the legs just seemed to crumple under the weight of the now half asleep dog that scrambled to pull himself back into a standing position. The dog gave him a sleepy sort of "Where am I?" look as his nose began to wiggle in the air, smelling the soup Roy was boiling. Riza had given him a considerable amount of her homemade chicken soup, and unfortunately for Roy, cooking was not a forte of hers. However, since he himself was too lazy to try and make anything that required more than pour heat and serve instructions, he made do with the concoction.

Sitting down on the couch, he scratched Hayate's ears while ladling soup into his mouth. The warmth of the soup seemed to melt away the pain he felt, seeing as how swallowing anything became a huge chore. The amoxicillin that the local pharmacist provided was a great help too, but he ran out and of course the drug store was now closed early for holiday hours.

~~~Earlier that day~~~

"I told you, taking the medicine more than the daily recommended amount will not heal you faster!" Hawkeye hissed at Roy earlier in the office when she saw him gulp a mouthful soon after his first dose of the day. "What are you even doing here right now? I'm sure due to your present condition that you could have just stayed home Mustang."

"This paperwork isn't going to do itself now is it?" Roy said as he winced from having to swallow.

"Well, you're certainly not going to do it." She retorted as the Flame Alchemist made a face at her. "You just really want to be well enough to go to the party tonight don't you?"

"Please, I am the party. And I'm certainly not going to let a little sore throat stop me from being there." Roy muttered, shuffling through pieces of paper.

"Everyone's just going to see how sick you are now, by being here in the office and everyone knows there's nothing worse than a sick, drunken man." Maes suddenly popped his head in the doorway, staring at Roy.

"Buuuuuddy! You know I won't let it get that out of hand! I'll be better before the day is over, just you wait." Roy got up, but Maes took a step back. "What's wrong? Scared you'll catch it?" Roy began to move closer to Hughes but the man already turned around and started walking back to his own office.

"Don't even try it Mustang." Maes said quickening his pace.

"Try what? Hey wait Hughes! You've got something on your back!" Roy said with a smirk on his face.

"No I don't, you KNOW I don't like being near contagious people…" Maes was stupid enough to get behind his desk, trapping himself. "I'm warning you Mustang, just go home now and no one will get hurt."

"You are too funny right now! Being sick isn't as bad as you think!" Roy said, taking a step into Maes' office, but to him, the room lurched. "Take…it…easssssssss-" Roy began to collapse.

Jumping over his desk, Hughes pushed Roy against the wall of his office before the man could hit the ground. A severe fever gripped Mustang and he was taken to the Military Hospital, while Maes followed his gurney every step of the way, up until he was placed in a private room, IV's tapped into his veins to keep from getting dehydrated.

"These things aren't entirely necessary, it's only a fever." Roy half grumbled, half coughed as he pulled the tubes from his arms once he woke up. "I'll just go home. Is Maes having lunch or something?" Roy asked as he looked around.

"I'm afraid it's been longer than you think…" said the nurse as she handed the man his jacket. "It is now nearly 4 in the afternoon."

"Did I fall asleep for that long?" Roy muttered, wobbly getting to his feet.

"We had to pump your stomach. Apparently, according to your fellow officers, you've ingested more than your required dose of amoxicillin, causing you to have a severe reaction. But the doctor deemed you fit to go home and be off of work for at least a week to regain your health from the strep throat you have. He's also instructed that-"

Clenching his jaw, Roy whipped out of the room without a backward glance. Furious for no apparent reason other than his own stupidity and shame, he stomped his way outside and did just what the nurse said, go home and apparently wait to get better. No sooner did he take some old aspirin pills he found in his bathroom cupboard, Roy's body collapsed on his couch.

An uneventful hour later, a knock came on his door. "C'min." he rasped.

"I've brought you some soup, and a bit of company." That stern female voice was the last one he wanted to hear right now.

"Did you have to bring him along?" Roy said as a puppy sniffed eagerly at his face before licking his cheek. Despite pretending to show strong dislike for the dog, Roy couldn't help but smile as the young pup settled himself next to him as Riza gave it a chew toy.

"I've also brought you this." Riza held out an old looking blanket.

"Is that for the dog as well?" Roy said, eyeing the blanket with caution.

"NO. It's a blanket my grandmother made. I call it my 'Get Well Blanket'. Whenever I feel sick or upset, I just wear it around me and things don't seem as bad as before." She tossed it on the couch. "Just don't put any scorch marks in it please. You'll want to heat that soup up for at least 15 minutes before you eat it." She made her way back to the door as Roy stared at the ground. "Listen, don't feel so bad about missing the party. It's just the same old thing every year." She was just closing the door behind her.

"Yeah, maybe for you it is, but it's actually FUN for the rest of us!" he snarled.

~~~~~****!!!!!

Glancing at the clock, Roy saw that it was only 9pm. Feeling angry again, he decided that he could finish up his soup, take some sleeping medicine and call it a night. At least if he was sleeping, he wouldn't be dwelling on the good time he was denied. As he got up however, the puppy ran to the front door and began to whimper.

"Now what are you doing?" Roy said as he looked down at the little guy. The dog was quivering as Roy realized exactly what that puppy needed. "Oh…OH! NO NO NO! DON'T DO ANYTHING! LEMME GET A JACKET!" Roy hastily put on a sweater as he led the pup outside.

Snow was falling in thick fluffy flakes as far as the eye could see. A thin layer had accumulated on the ground which made Black Hayate sneeze as he sought out the perfect spot to do his business. "I thought you'd be inside, wallowing in self pity." Maes was casually leaning on the nearest lamp post.

"There you go boy, the perfect spot is right on Hughes' leg!" Roy pointed towards his uninvited guest. "So why aren't you at the party, living it up for me. Like you could ever take my place."

"Bah, it's boring there without you. You're the only one stupid enough to follow through on any game or dare our fellow soldiers can come up with. I decided to leave and take the scenic route home." Maes said as he tossed a snowball at Mustang, hitting him near the stomach.

"Hey! Watch it!" Roy threw one back twice as hard, nearly knocking off Hughes' glasses. A brief snowball fight ensued with the dog running back and forth between the two men laughing like school age kids as the air was filled with heavier snow. Coughing madly, Roy began to go back towards the door, now soaked with melted water thanks to his best pal. "Now I've got to get a fire going! Thanks a lot!" he wheezed as he went to go change into warmer clothes. "Dammit. My throat is killing me."

"You know, I've heard tea mixed with honey and whiskey is supposed to help with that." Maes said as he stoked a small fire, growing in the fireplace.

"Screw the sissy tea and bee junk, the whiskey part sounds just fine!" Roy said as he came back into the living room.

"I thought you'd say something like that." Maes pulled out a bottle and set it down on the table.

"Wait, isn't your wife going to get mad at you?" Roy said with an eyebrow raised as he got some glasses.

"Nah, she didn't want me to come back home tonight. She knew if I was hanging out with you that there was bound to be trouble involved and wanted no part of it. In fact, she said I can sleep in my office for all she cared." Maes snorted.

"Wait, I'm sure you told her though that I was sick, so that I'd be missing the party. And she still let you go?" Roy began to pour. "What a nice lady."

"She knew I'd skip out on it and just waste my time here with you. " Maes raised his glass for a toast. The two men met eyes and clanked glasses before gulping.

"Ah, I feel better already." A different kind of heat now filled Roy's body, a much more enjoyable one, even though that chicken soup was a lot less bitter.

The two men talked the night away about anything and everything they could think of. Before long, Roy forgot all about that stupid party because as he said, he was the party. Once the bottle of whiskey was consumed, mainly by Roy, the sick, slightly drunken man began to fall asleep on his couch. Hughes looked down at his friend while tossing an unfamiliar blanket over him and got ready to settle himself in an armchair. "Read me a story!" Mustang blurted out childishly.

"I think you're a bit old for that aren't you?" Maes laughed.

"But you do all the voices just riiiiight!" Roy whined.

"I don't even think you have a single book in your home Roy that's anything like a story." Hughes said as he glanced around for a bookcase.

"Nonsense. I'm a huge fan of Darkles Chickens…" Roy yawned then began doing the oddest mixture of noise Maes has ever heard. Somehow, without waking himself up, Mustang was snoring and coughing at the same time. A feat that couldn't be performed by a normal human.

The fire in the grate was now just smoldering bright orange embers, the crackling has long since stopped. Staring into the fireplace, Hughes felt himself begin to drift off, lolling his head to one side. If there was anything Roy was good at, it was picking out comfortable furniture.

Suddenly, out of nowhere came voices. They were singing carols in the now sleepy darkness of the outside street. Wondering who in the Hell would be singing at a time like this, Hughes reluctantly got up and glanced out the window. To his horror, it was none other than Havoc, Armstrong, Fuery, and the rest of the crew, except for Riza, were now singing 'The 12 Days of Christmas' very out of key, and the only gift they get right is the partridge in a pear tree. The group stopped just on the walkway leading to Roy's front door.

"We wanned to see tha' Mustang bastard! Gettim out here!" Havoc shouted as Armstrong threw his hand over the man's mouth, and then cursed him for burning his perfect hand with a cigarette.

"Shut up! We just started to fall asleep and the man needs his rest! You'll have to party with him another time! Now get back to your homes before someone calls the cops!" Maes said guarding the front door.

"Shhhhshshshsh!" Armstrong hisses as he tries to quiet the group down. "I've tried to tell them to go home, but they insisted on visiting Roy now. The group revived their rendition of the mentioned song. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Armstrong lifted the entire group onto his back and began trudging them home.

Inside, woken up by the noise and a coughing fit, Roy smiled to himself at how thoughtful everyone has been to him. Clutching Riza's blanket closer to his face and curling up, he now understood the magic of this very blanket and wondered if he'd ever give it back to her.

Once back inside, Maes looked towards the couch, seeing Roy awake. "Merry Christmas Hughes." Roy smiled.

"Merry Christmas Mustang." Hughes wondered just how mad his wife would get if her husband invited his bawdy best friend over for dinner on the man's favorite holiday of the year. Minus the eggnog of course.