Edward was jerked from his reading by a loud grumble and lurching sensation. His left hand clutched his stomach, identifying the source of his disturbance. He looked up from his desk, peering over piles of research and reports to find an all-but-empty office. Breda was engaged in trying to stick a pen into the ceiling, and Alphonse was sitting in a chair behind Ed, leafing through another collection of papers.
"Hungry brother?" Alphonse asked, the glow in his eyes sharpening.
"Yeah." Ed grunted back in a dry tone.
"You guys heading to the mess hall?" Breda blurted, an excited smile breaking across his face.
"Looks like. You coming?" Ed replied, pulling his coat around his shoulders and walking to the door.
"Sure thing, I'm starving!" Breda popped out of his chair, accompanying the brothers to lunch.
When the trio pushed through the dining hall doors they were greeted by an absurdly long line.
Breda's brow fell, "Damn, must'a got in right at noon, the place is packed!"
"Yeah," Ed mumbled once again, tilting his head from side to side. "All this reading has me pretty stiff – Hey Al, you want to spar after lunch?"
"Sure brother, we've been meaning to all week!"
As Ed fell into the queue he reached out his flesh arm, pulling it across his chest in an attempt to clear the workday daze. When that didn't work he lifted his right leg, pulling at the taught leather pants leg until his shin touched his forehead.
Breda turned to Ed, "Hey, have you ever noticed tha…" He was interrupted by the realization that Edward was standing in a front split.
"Wow, you're more flexible than a lotta chicks!"
Ed droped his leg immediately, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN I LOOK LIKE A HALF-PINT GIRL WHO'S TOO SHORT TO EVEN STRETCH LIKE A MAN?"
"That's not what he said, brother!"
"Urm, no-no-no, what I meant was, uh, you've got a really amazing talent there!"
"What, just because I can do this?" Ed's tone downshifted from outrage to bewilderment as he grabbed the instep of his right leg, pulling himself back into a standing split.
Breda's eyes went wide, staggering back absentmindedly, impressed by the deliberate show he was getting. In his mild stupor he bumped against a group of recruits behind them in line. A soldier only slightly taller than Ed piped up, "Hey, watch i-" and was silenced as he glanced first at Breda's superior rank, then up to Ed's nonchalant display of balance and agility, "… the hell?" the private questioned, as his two friends gawked at the same sight.
Ed's eyes met those of his uninvited audience. His eyebrows shot up and a blush broke out. With a red-hot swell of self-consciousness Ed dropped his leg again and shuffled back into line, making a valiant attempt to appear completely casual in reaching for a tray. Breda snickered to himself, turning to the tightly-wound Private with his tongue poking out.
"Woah, really? He was just standing there and pulled his leg over his head?" Fuery's face was bright, an impressed grin stretching between his cheeks.
Breda nodded sagely, "It was the wildest thing."
Footsteps tapped down the hallway outside of the office's open door.
Ed's eyes darted up from his mountain of papers. "It was no big deal Breda."
A stern shoulder propped against the door frame. "What wasn't a big deal, Fullmetal?"
"N-nothing!" Ed stammered, shocked at Mustang's sudden appearance.
"Brother was just doing a little stretching in the line at lunch today!"
"Oh? And it was worth a story, Breda?" Mustang's eyes level on Breda's equally surprised forehead.
"He was doing splits!" Breda declared. "Standing!"
Mustang smirked, "So you're an alchemist and a contortionist now, Fullrubber?"
"Cuntotiawhat?" Ed pushed himself up from his chair, offence taking hold.
"Someone who is so flexible that they can use their agility to perform in public."
Ed grunted, "I was not performing, and besides, what would someone like that even 'perform?'"
"You tell me, Fullrubber, or why don't you just show us!"
Ed's face went red. "How should I know, I'm not the one who watches men stretching! And quit calling me that!"
Mustang blinked. An orientation jab… from Ed? Roy shook his head slightly, reclaiming his smug grin as he made a conversational retreat into his inner office. The closing door punctuated the atmosphere in the outer office.
Fuery's eyes darted from face to face, looking for anything resembling understanding "Uhh – what just happened?"
"Come on Ed, at least show Fuery a simple split," Breda pleaded, "Just so he knows what we're talking about!"
"Forget it Breda."
"Please, Edward, if it wouldn't be too much trouble?" The sincere curiosity in Fuery's voice added a tinge of casual desperation.
Ed could hardly deny the pull of curiosity. "Fine," he groaned, stepping to the center of the room so that Fuery could see.
Two fainter sets of footsteps mirrored Ed's own as he moved.
In a quick, unceremonious and rapid movement, Ed went from standing straight, arms and legs by his side, to a full middle split. His automail leg clanked against the hard floor as he dropped, completing the pose by pressing his chest to the ground. With his cheek against the ground, he caught sight of two new pairs of boots at the door.
Havoc's jaw practically joined Ed on the ground as he stepped into the room. Hawkeye stopped mid-stride, a thin line of blush rising high on her cheeks.
"What?" They both blurted, Havoc much more loudly and unrestrained than Hawkeye.
Ed pulsed his hands against the ground, bouncing to his feet before Hawkeye's step fell in the office. He made brisk work of brushing past her and out into the hall. That was easier than explaining himself… Again.
As he bulleted down the hall he could hear Breda burst into an idiotic laugh.