Of all the men on his team, Roy had understood Jean Havoc the most. Not because Havoc had been a particularly complex man to figure out, or even because they had too much in common, but because Havoc was straightforward, and honest. Havoc liked the obvious - he wasn't the tech whiz Fuery was, or the solid thinking like Breda, and he certainly didn't have the imposing demeanor Falman had.
No, by all rights, Havoc was a bit of an asshole. And Roy appreciated that fact.
It hadn't changed one bit, Roy thought to himself as he ran across his subordinate on the street. The market for military grade weapons had gone significantly down, but then, he had regained use of his legs and was back in office. Havoc, for his part, was to be found off duty chatting up a pretty young woman with a large chest and tiny waist.
She left without much prompting, although Roy did gesture after her in curiosity.
"Her name's Linda," Havoc had replied easily, pulling another cigarette to his lips. Roy pulled out a gloved hand and lit the tip of it, pulling his fingers over each other as a small flame danced at his hands. "Thanks." Havoc mumbled through his teeth. "What brings you here?" He moved around the table of the cafe's outdoor patio, and stopped, blowing a cloud of smoke. "-Still going after my blondes, General?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Roy said, not bothering to grace Havoc with a perplexed look.
"Bullshit you don't." Havoc said happily. "Half the women you dated in Central and Eastern were cover. The other half were all the same. You've got a type, General."
Of course he knew what Havoc meant. While Roy hadn't really slept with the entire female population of central, he'd had a string of nonserious girlfriends since his original posting in Eastern. They were all blonde from what he could remember - tall, short, thin or thick, but all blonde. "A type?"
He didn't know why he was playing along.
"Sure. I like tits. You like blondes." He gestured, squeezing the air. Roy rolled his eyes, but hesitated as Havoc continued. "Dunno boss, you always seemed a little serious for all your dating though. You don't take it seriously." He puffed on his cigarette again in thought.
"—At any rate, I don't have time to date anymore. And I'm certainly not stealing any of your slim pickings." Roy said dryly.
Havoc snorted. "Do us all a favor boss and find someone permanent so I don't have to keep hearing about Amestris' most eligible bachelor."
"If the women like me better than you, that's your problem, Lieutenant." And for added measure, "Get back to work."
"It's the weekend."
Roy shrugged, and turned, "Your report's due Monday morning on my desk-", leaving Havoc to himself and his cafe table on the street. The long walk back to his apartments was filled with far too many names and faces, each one the same, and yet not at all close to what he had been looking for.
There was only one person who was what he was looking for, and for the moment - yet again - he'd have to put looking for it off. And for the countless time in his adult life, Roy Mustang wondered briefly if he believed in a moment where he'd be able to climb to the top without sacrificing himself in the process. He was never quiet sure if he believed it could happen.
And then, for the countless time in his adult life, he went back to tactically planning his every move until that moment arose.