Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Private Jeremy Anderson.
A/N: This was originally a roleplay for a Full Metal Alchemist forum. z3(dot)invisionfree(dot)com/FMAEE -shameless plug of said forum- Half the plot belongs to my dear friend Flags, who roleplayed it with me. This takes place rather early in the series, right before Ed and Roy's little Fullmetal v. Flame assessment-fight and after the incident in Xenotime. Scar has yet to arrive in East City, and no one knows anything about the homunculi at the moment.
Now retitled and with a brand-new summary! -dances- Happy reading and please, please review! Reviews make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. :3
Ch. 1: The Summons
It'd been your typical Wednesday afternoon lunch break at Eastern Headquarters. Hughes was busily showing off his pictures of Elysia in her brand-new pink ballerina's tutu (Because she had bunny-hopped across the Hughes's living room one day and he instantly decided that she had a bright future as a dancer), Havoc was moping over losing yet another girlfriend to Roy, and the Colonel himself was busily sneaking scraps of his none-too-appetizing mess hall lunch to Black Hayate, much to Hawkeye's dismay. It was a rather amusing sight, actually. The dog was hiding between the colonel's legs, periodically poking his head out to lap up a piece of food from Mustang's currently ungloved hand, which repeatedly migrated to the table, and then just happened to dangle at his side. This arrangement had come up as a result of the last time Hawkeye caught him sneaking food to her dog, and found a new bullet hole in his wall right next to where his left ear had been.
The Elric brothers were in town as well, their last Philosohpher's Stone search-run having ended in failure as well as a very sore cheek for Edward after his encounter with Russell Tringham, his "double" from Xenotime. Falman, Breda, and Fuery were with them, trying to prod some details out of Ed about that Psiren character he'd supposedly run into in Aquroya.
There was a general cheer around the military headquarters that day, despite apprehension about the man known only as "Scar" who had been killing State Alchemists in Central (which had caused the current mass migration of all military officers in Central to East City). The merriment had paused briefly when Roy suddenly had to leave the mess hall without explanation, but no one paid it much mind. Even Hawkeye appeared to be enjoying herself, and wasn't quite as furious as one might've expected when she found Black Hayate nibbling on a piece of chicken that Roy had left for the dog before leaving himself. And despite Havoc's earlier bemoaning of yet another lost girlfriend, he too had submitted to the aura of cheeriness and levity about the mess hall. (Though he had been a bit disturbed by the sudden appearance of Armstrong in all his pink-sparkly glory, promising to get him a new girlfriend with his skill at creating long-lasting relationships that had been "passed down the Armstrong line for generations".)
At the other side of the room, a group of lower-ranking officers, including a certain young man with messy golden-blond hair, were also partaking in the merriment.
"Haha, you should've seen the look on your face when you saw that fake spider in your sleeping bag, Jerry!" one of them laughed, giving a playful shove to the blonde.
"Hey! That's not funny!" he cried in response, though he too was laughing, "Give me some credit here; it was three AM! You'd have thought it was late too!"
"And don't forget how you reacted when you thought 'Bigfoot' was outside our barracks the other day!" Another piped in, suddenly giving a loud shriek and plastering a look of abject horror on his face, "Ahh! It's Bigfoot! It's going to eaaat us!!"
A loud peal of laughter erupted from the group, and they continued chattering in this manner, carrying on in such as way as would suggest that they were all very drunk, although none of them, in fact, were.
After the group had calmed down some, one of them spoke up again.
"Hey, where d'you think the colonel went off to?"
Another in the group shrugged. "Dunno. Must've been important; he didn't even say anything to his lieutenants when he left."
"I heard someone say that he was summoned directly by the Fuhrer," another added, scratching his chin thoughtfully. Then he turned to Jerry. "Hey, that reminds me--I think I heard your name mentioned too, Jer."
The grin on his companion's face instantly faded. "M-my name?! Are you sure?"
It was a well-known fact that Private Jeremy Anderson was absolutely terrified of authority. It was generally the colonel that was on the receiving end of this paranoia of his, but it applied to any authority. And the highest authority in all of Amestris was the Fuhrer. Anyone who knew Jerry well knew that him being in the presence of the Fuhrer was practically asking for disaster.
"Well, I did hear 'Anderson'. And I don't know any other Private Anderson-s."
"B-but...but, Anderson is a pretty common last name...isn't it?!"
"Yeah, but how many soldiers with the rank of private have that rank?"
The twenty-four-year-old private was visibly sweating now, and he gave a weak smile to his friends. "If this is another prank, I'm going to kill you. You know that right?"
Before his friends could say anything more, a young woman approached the group. She appeared to be a secretary. "Excuse me, but is one of you Private Anderson?"
"Hey, isn't that the Fuhrer's personal secretary, Juliet Douglas?" one of them whispered, causing a new wave of shivers in the private.
"Yeah. Whoa, what could the Fuhrer want with you, Jer?"
Mouthing a desperate 'I don't know' back to his friends, he turned back to the Fuhrer's secretary. "Uhh, th-that'd be m-me, Miss...Miss D-Douglas." The poor man was trembling all over by now.
"Yes. Private Anderson, your presence is requested by the Fuhrer. Please come with me."
What does he want with me?! I'm just a private! he thought desperately, though the question died in his throat before he could say anything to Ms. Douglas.
Without another word, he started to follow her, shoulders drooped and back hunched, trembling violently as he stalked off, looking as if he was following her to his executioner.
