Summary: A young woman is hired as an assistant for Hawkeye, but finds herself babysitting a cat instead. What she doesn't know is the cat is actually Havoc, changed when a transmutation went horribly wrong in an effort to cure his legs.
Warning: AU that ignores movie events. It also follows some things for the anime/manga, and ignores othes - Havoc's legs are paralyzed, but Kimblee is alive. So, AU. Also, swearing.
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. I own OCs and plot.
Well, a twisted idea from the picture of the "FMA Kitties Guide to Havoc". Just something to read and enjoy, so please don't take anything too seriously. Thank my beta, Izzy, for her work on it! And I will post the list of the original FMA Kitties on my main account, so everyone can see what Havoc looks like as a cat. (grin) Please enjoy!
Please review. Comments, ideas, suggestions, and helpful criticism welcome.
Gail Rossi thought her life was pretty good. A job working in the State Library – without having to join the military, thank whoever, or whatever, was up there – a small, rented apartment over an antique store, and not many other worries left in her life. For being a single, twenty-four year-old woman on her own, things weren't that bad. Except that she often grew lonely. Television and books could only compensate so much, after all. But in a few days, she was about to find an answer to her loneliness – and a bringer of a whole other boatload of problems.
None of which she would find out until it was too late, of course.
Pity Gail, for if she had known, she never would have left her house that day.
She probably wouldn't have left her house ever again.
"Are you almost done with that shelf?" Gail's superior, a Corporal Tithen, called across the isle.
"Yes, sir," she nodded, trying to keep quiet. She was working in the area restricted to State Alchemist, and several of them shot the two dirty looks for interrupting research. Trying to hide in the books, Gail sighed and waved the older man over, liking him despite herself.
"Good, good," he said brusquely, moving over and leaning towards her conspiratorially. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
"Why?" she asked in surprise, and he grinned.
"Just come here when you're done," he ordered, gesturing to a small office he occasionally used. Gail sighed in agreement, knowing she'd never get back to work if she didn't, and followed her superior to the room instead of making him wait longer.
"Hello," a blond woman greeted them calmly, gazing at them openly.
"This is First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. She works under Brigadier General Mustang," he explained, introducing the two women. "First Lieutenant, this Gail Rossi, the librarian I was telling you about."
"A pleasure to meet you, Miss," Hawkeye said, extending her hand. Gail took it nervously and even bowed a little, laughing shakily.
"Trust me, it's an honor, First Lieutenant," she managed, fisting her hands at her sides firmly. Everyone had heard of Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, and anyone who worked with him was held in the same esteem as a result.
"Please, Hawkeye or Riza," the woman told her. "You're not in the military."
"No, ma'am," Gail shook her head, relaxing slightly. Riza sighed a little, and turned to the Corporal.
"You didn't tell her about my request, did you," Riza stated, and he grinned sheepishly.
"I thought you would like to meet her yourself, ma'am," he replied, and Riza shrugged before turning back to the younger, and confused, woman.
"All right then. I have quite a bit of work to do in the office, and I requested an assistant to help – mostly with paperwork and smaller assignments," Riza began. "I'm acquainted with a young woman named Sheska, but she's otherwise employed at the moment and unavailable. On speaking with your superior, he highly recommended you."
"I'm happy to be even second choice, ma'am," Gail told her, not minding a bit.
"However, you would be required to enlist in the military – a civilian isn't allowed in many of the areas you would need to be," Riza continued, inspecting the woman critically. Her green-gray eyes appeared honest and clear, her copper hair was in a low ponytail and neat, and her clothing was perfectly straight, suggesting the young woman was neat, orderly, and precise – exactly what Riza wanted.
Gail swallowed thickly, looking a bit apprehensive, and blinked in surprise when Riza graced her with a small smile.
"You would not leave our office for any kind of necessary conflict, and retain the rank of Private as long as you desire," the woman assured the other. "All I need is a secretary, to be blunt."
"Blunt is good," Gail replied with a small grin, feeling a little better. "I don't have any ambition, honestly. I don't want promotions – I just want a steady job."
"Which I can provide easily," the First Lieutenant nodded. "You would not have to leave your current place of residence, and if you wish to take the offer, you can start three days from now."
"That sounds perfect, ma'am," the librarian said cheerfully, pleased she would be able to spend one last weekend as a civilian.
"I'll have the proper paperwork filled out for you to sign when you arrive, then," Riza told her, moving towards the door. "Come to the headquarters at eight in the morning – you'll be directed from there."
"Yes, ma'am," Gail agreed, saluting hesitantly as the woman left the room.
"Well, you're certainly moving up, miss!" the Corporal laughed, slapping her on the back heartily and causing her to fall over a little. "Working in Mustang's division – who'd have thought?"
"Oh, boy," the young woman sighed, regretting her decision already.
"Are you guys sure this is safe?" Jean Havoc asked the others nervously, sitting in the middle of the floor – on the floor – at his apartment he now was forced to share with Vato Falman and Kain Fuery thanks to his infirmity.
"Well…no," Falman admitted, as he and Heymans Breda completed the symbol around him.
"What have you got to lose?" Breda pointed out, and Havoc sighed. "The physiotherapy isn't working at all, and this can't do anything worse."
"Are you sure this is wise?" Fuery protested, not looking happy at all. "I mean, none of us are alchemists…"
"Which is why he's helping us," Falman pointed out, gesturing towards a grumbling Zolf Kimblee.
"I hate using these damn things," he complained, hands shoved in pockets and surveying the transmutation circle in disgust. "They're so messy."
"And what you do isn't?" Havoc asked dryly, and Kimblee grinned.
"Yeah, but it's a lot more fun."
"Why the hell're you doing this, anyway?" Beda asked, suddenly a bit suspicious – and worried – about the Crimson Alchemist's motives. He only received another grin, and a wink.
"Because there's the off-chance he's gonna blow, and I plan on being the one to do that, if it happens," the man replied, and Havoc shivered. They had only gone to Kimblee because the Crimson Alchemist was the only one crazy enough – and daring enough – to attempt the experimental transmutation without reporting it to a superior officer.
"You're not gonna…do it on purpose, are you?" Fuery pressed, and Kimblee shook his head, his grin disappearing.
"Shit no. You think I'm that stupid? Blow up a Second Lieutenant that works under Mustang, and being a Lieutenant Colonel isn't going to help me any," he said in disgust. "And if it works, think of what I'll get," he added, the grin now a wide smirk. "Trust me, I want the son-of-a-bitch transmutation to work. Where'd you find the hokey thing, anyway?"
"In here," Falman told them stiffly, sounding a bit offended. "There are several transmutations that no one has put into practice for quite a long time, and some have never been used. However, they all sound quite plausible. It's supposed to regenerate the entire nervous system, as well as replace all damaged parts with alchemic replicas."
"Wait, wait, wait!" Havoc interrupted. "You mean no one's ever gotten this to work? And you want to try it on me?"
"He's right – you don't have anything to lose, Havoc," Falman informed him.
"Except my life!" he protested, but Kimblee shrugged, already examining the book with interest, having taken it from Falman.
"Hmm…does sound good," he admitted, a little disgruntled at the idea anyway. "Whatever. You read your books – I'll stick to the messy stuff," he told the Chief Warrant Officer pointedly, tossing the thick book at him and moving towards the paralyzed Havoc.
"Hey, hold on a damn second!" the man tried to protest, but Kimblee only smirked at him again.
"Just shut up and let me concentrate," he ordered, dropping into a crouch and placing his hands palm-down on the edge of the circle. Frowning as he tried to get it right, the alchemist muttered something under his breath before smacking his hands onto the floor loudly, a flash and bang accompanying the gesture. Smoke filled the room, and they all proceeded to choke.
"…did it work?" Fuery asked cautiously, looking around as the smoke cleared. Kimblee glared at them, waving the smoke away from his face, still coughing slightly.
"Dumbasses, didn't even warn me," he muttered, looking where Havoc had been. "Oh, well, shit."
"What?" Falman demanded, he and Breda having stood clear.
"Yeah – what?" Breda added, as they grouped around the small area. "Oh…wow."
"Is that…"
"Yes, it's me, you stupid jackasses!" Havoc hissed, glaring at them and looking a bit dazed. "I can't believe you did this to me! I'm going to rip your eyes out!"
"I believe you'd claw them out now," Kimblee commented, unable to resist grinning at the predicament. Jean Havoc was now able to walk – but not on his hind legs.
Jean Havoc was now a cat.
"We are in so much trouble…" Fuery groaned, just imagining what Mustang – and worse, what Hawkeye – would have to say about it.
"Do we have to tell anyone?" Breda asked in panic. "I mean, it's not like he comes to the office a lot or anything…"
"And leave me as a fucking cat?" Havoc demanded loudly, jumping up and attacking Breda, claws dug into the man's face. "I think not!"
"Calm down, kitty," Kimblee ordered, tearing Havoc from Breda's face and holding him at arm's length. "We'll tell 'em, all right. I'm not going to be found out for this and land in shit. Sooner we 'fess up, the better."
"There must be some way to reverse it…" Falman muttered, flipping through the pages frantically.
"I thought it was supposed to be permanent – that was the point," Kimblee pointed out matter-of-factly, appearing to be enjoying himself far too much. Havoc glared at him – he was much better at it, now that he was a cat – and struggled furiously, but the alchemist held fast. "Come on, kitty, we're going for a ride," the man added, glancing at Havoc. Looking around, Fuery offered a box, and Havoc found himself shoved and trapped inside a prison of cardboard before he could protest.
"And you probably better not talk," Breda muttered, giving the box a thump. "Let's not cause a scene."
"Fuck you."
"This is…interesting…" Mustang murmured, looking amused as he surveyed a pissed-off Havoc, who was being gripped by a bored-looking Kimblee. Falman, Breda, and Fuery were in the back of the room, trying to look ashamed instead of laughing out loud.
"This is unbelievable!" Riza snapped, glaring at them all, especially Kimblee. "What the hell were you thinking? I can't even begin to try to –"
"Now, now, calm down," her superior said calmly, waving a hand at her to sit down. "All right, I can guess what you were doing…Falman, what are you trying to hide?" he demanded, noticing the man fruitlessly trying to shove the book behind his back.
"N-nothing, sir!"
"Give it here," Mustang ordered, holding out his hand expectantly. Falman stepped up and bravely handed the tome to his superior before rushing back against the wall, almost expecting Riza to shoot them, lined up like they were waiting for a firing squad. "Hmm…interesting. Where did you get it?"
"In the library in Central, sir," Breda reluctantly told him.
"I see – interesting," the man repeated, shutting the book with a loud 'snap' that made the guilty – all except Kimblee – wince. "I can't really blame Havoc for any of this," he began mildly, getting up and looking out the window with his arms folded behind his back. "So, who do I blame? I have a feeling Fuery wasn't too keen on this – that leaves you, Falman, Breda, and Kimblee…Kimblee again," he sighed, turning around to face them. "What am I going to do with this mess?"
"I'm sure there's a way to reverse it, sir!" Falman told him, taking a small – tiny – step forward. "After all, we just need…time…" he faltered, seeing Mustang's gaze rest on him. "Sir?"
"So, you were the mastermind."
"Hey, I just figured it'd be interesting," Kimblee objected, seeing Mustang's glare turn to him. "No need to get pissy, Brigadier General."
"Watch your mouth," Riza snapped, but was met with a grin.
"Hmm…Falman's right, there has to be a way to reverse this," Mustang interrupted, once more flipping through the book.
"Sir?" Riza began, a bit alarmed at his tone, but was cut off.
"So, you three!" Mustang snapped, scaring the men off their feet. "You're not going to do anything else until you find how to fix this!" he ordered, actually sounding honestly angry for the first time since their entered their office. "And Kimblee, since you did it yourself, you can baby-sit your experiment until he's back to normal."
"Sir!" Havoc and Riza protested at the same time, now fully alarmed. Kimblee looked cheerful at the prospect, and leered at Havoc before Riza snatched him out of the man's hands defiantly.
"Sir, that probably isn't the wisest idea," the woman began, choosing her words carefully. "I think it best Havoc remain in a separate…building, maybe."
"Do you have any suggestions?" Mustang asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.
"Hey! Don't I get a say in this?" Havoc began angrily, but his face was covered by Riza's hand. "Mmph!"
"I hired an assistant for the office today, sir," she said quickly, before anyone else could interrupt. "Luckily, considering everyone's now gone," she added dryly. "But I believe she would be adept at watching a cat for…however long it takes," she continued. "Of course, Kimblee should be held responsible – since this was done outside military knowledge, without military resources – except for an alchemist – I think he should be given a…unique punishment."
"Like what?" he prodded, expecting something fitting as usual.
"He should serve as a bodyguard for the assistant and Havoc," she said promptly, and Kimblee almost choked in surprise. Ignoring the Alchemist's struggles for air, both of Mustang's eyebrows rose in shock, and he looked at the woman with a grin.
"A bodyguard, huh?"
"Yes, sir," she nodded, squeezing Havoc to stop his wriggling.
"I think that would put everyone in more trouble, but…it's an intriguing idea," he admitted, his chin now resting in his hand. His eye caught Falman, Breda, and Fuery near the door, and his eyes narrowed. "I thought I gave you your assignment!" he snapped, and they ran from the room in the next moment.
"All right then – Havoc, you'll stay with Hawkeye until the assistant arrives…"
"Monday," she supplied, and he nodded.
"Monday."
"Buh-but…sir!"
"Just be quiet and be thankful I'm not handing you over to Kimblee," Mustang said mildly, glancing at the alchemist, who had recovered the ability to breath properly and now appeared absolutely livid. "And if there are any explosions until then, I'll know who to blame for it – everything," the man added pointedly, and Kimblee's eyes widened perceptibly before narrowing again, this time in frustration.
"Sir. I'll be here Monday," he growled, and stalked from the room.
"Interesting plan of action, Riza," Mustang commented, grinning at the woman, who only sniffed and lowered Havoc onto the table.
"I thought it was best, sir."
"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Gail muttered to herself, dressing in the military uniform she had received the day before by messenger. Pulling it on a little too roughly, she sighed and tried to decide whether she should button the jacket or not. Thinking carefully, she decided all the other military members she had seen had worn their jackets closed, so she slowly began to pull it shut.
"Why do I have this feeling something really bad is waiting for me?" she wondered, chills suddenly going up her spine. Looking around her room a bit nervously, she shivered again and shook her head.
"When is that damn bitch going to show up?" Kimblee demanded, complaining every so often to vocally express his resentment at his job. And that's putting it nicely.
"I told her eight," Riza said calmly, not even looking up at him from her paperwork. Havoc, who had sulked the entire weekend, was sitting on her desk with a put-out look on his face. The ability to walk was not worth being turned into a cat, in his esteemed – and experienced – opinion.
Especially not when you had to deal with Black Hayate all weekend.
I hope this is all right! Again, don't take anything too seriously, and enjoy! Please review.