Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've got exams coming up so I won't be updating frequently but I'll do what I can. I don't own FMA...

Walking in the Rain

"Sir," I snapped as I saw Mustang's head on the table. He was resting his head on his arms on his desk like he did everyday around this sort of time. It was mid morning. He'd do this mid afternoon too complaining that he was hungry and couldn't go on. I glared at him. His head slowly rose and he stared at me.

"I can't go on," he moaned, "I'm hungry."

"Maybe you shouldn't skip breakfast," I replied coldly.

"Maybe if I had someone to make it for me," was his retort. I noticed the cocky glint in his eye as he insinuated that I should make him breakfast. I sighed half glad that the men in the office hadn't noticed his look. They were working. I had threatened them four times already this morning and it was only ten o clock. They would probably stop working in five minutes or so and talk about the girl on reception or some rumour they'd heard. However, Mustang never really listened to my threats, knowing that I would never shoot him. That's what he thought. I knew if I aimed at him I would shoot him. It was best not to let it get that far.

"Maybe you should get a wife then," I muttered. Mustang frowned and noisily put his head back on his arms with a soft grunt. I was secretly amused by his reaction, the one I had anticipated.

It was Hughes who had always said that to him. I glanced at the clock from my desk. It was about time for him to phone. He called everyday like clockwork to annoy Mustang. At least it livened him up for an hour until he clamed himself down. Right on cue the phone rang. Mustang didn't bother to lift his head up. His hand snaked across the desk, picked up the phone and carried it to his ear.

"Hello?" he said quietly.

"Hi Roy!" screamed Hughes's voice from the other end. I saw Mustang flinch. "How you doing today? My Alisha is doing great. I don't think she can get any cuter and then she does! How about that?"

"What do you want, Hughes?" Mustang asked in an overtly bored way.

"Can't I check up on a friend without causing suspicion?" Hughes asked.

"No," Mustang replied.

"You're so square, Roy!" Hughes laughed, "Haven't you had a date this week? That's your problem; you have nothing to satisfy you."

"Please, spare me the lecture, Hughes," Mustang said sitting up, "Hawkeye's already given it to me."

There was a pause on the line. Hughes had obviously stopped shouting at the other end but Mustang was still listening to him speak.

"I don't want to know, Hughes," he went on. He tapped his fingers on the desk in annoyance. He looked up at me. "That's not what I meant…No…No…No…Hughes, you're annoying me now…Hughes…Get yourself a life!"

He slammed the phone down on the desk. He glared at it in a threatening way as if daring it to ring again. It didn't. Mustang relaxed slightly but then tensed again when he saw that the other guys were staring at him.

"That was…harsh, sir," Fuery said.

"When you've had someone on your back as long as I have, you're allowed to be harsh," he snapped. He jumped to his feet.

"I'm going for a walk," he announced. I sighed loudly.

"Don't you have papers to fill out?" asked Havoc.

"I'm not here to be a bureaucrat," Mustang snapped again. He stormed out the door without another word. I rolled my eyes.

"I'd better go with him," I said. I slowly made my way out of the office not seeming to be in a rush to catch up with him. He was by the entrance anyway. He had opened the door and was waiting.

"It's raining," he stated.

"Then you shouldn't go for a walk then, sir," was my replied. I saw a smile flicker onto his face. He walked out into the open air as he didn't care about the weather. I followed like I always did, not knowing what the heck he was thinking.

"Do you and Maes have bets on who can annoy me the most?" he asked the moment we were in the city centre.

"Not really, sir, the odds are low," I replied. Mustang grinned. He wasn't bothered about the rain at all. He was almost happy to be out in weather like this. I hated it. I could feel the rain soaking through the layers of my uniform. If I caught a cold now then I would shoot him.

He glanced at me from over his shoulder. He was checking to see if I'd got bored yet. I didn't get bored easily. I could sit in an empty room for six hours and not be bored. Mustang was different. He got bored easily. It would only take him five minutes to get bored of something. He still had that child mentality where he had to be entertained for the whole of the day but no one could him entertained.

Believe me when I say many had tried and all had failed.

I looked up at the sky to see if there was any hope of the sun breaking through the clouds. The sky was grey. I scowled at it. We'd had rain for a week now. It seemed it would never stop. We would have a few minutes of dryness every couple of hours until it started again.

Mustang stopped abruptly. He was looking at something in a shop window. I glanced over at it figuring that he'd seen a cute woman in the shop and was trying to get a better look. It was a clothes shop for women. There were a few dresses on models in the front window but I didn't really care. Dresses were for housewives and mothers, not military personnel like me.

"Why would you want to wear something like that?" Mustang asked gesturing at a mustard coloured dress with a white collar and purple belt round the waist.

"I don't know, sir," I replied.

"Would you wear something like that?"

"No, sir,"

"Why not?"

"Because yellow hardly goes with the uniform, sir,"

"What about when you're off duty?"

I glanced up at his cocky smile.

"I'd rather not look like a condiment, sir," I replied, "Can we please continue walking, please?"

He started to walk again. He stretched his arms upwards.

"I wish I was on holiday," he said.

"Sir, every day for you is a holiday compared with the rest of us," I muttered.

"Why's that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"All you do is sleep, eat and walk," I explained, "Every now and then you sign a piece of paper."

"That's harsh," he retorted, "At least the holidays will be here soon."

Now that was just what I wanted to remember. The holidays were next month. The rain would soon turn to snow and the wind would change direction. The streets would be lined with decorations and the bars would be full at night. I would be on full alert because Mustang would be in one of those bars. They weren't holidays, they were extreme training weeks.

Mustang must have seen the expression on my face as I mulled over the last few holidays. It took Mustang a lot of drinks to get drunk but he normally stuck to his limit. Havoc, Breda and Falman were worse. They got plastered and I spend most of my holidays stopping bar fights with rival units. I'm surprised they never got disciplined.

"Don't worry this year," Mustang said, "I think I have a way of getting those guys to cut back on the booze. Holidays are meant for rest after all."

"I'd be glad to hear of your plans, sir," I said waiting for a stupid idea but Mustang didn't say anything. He just smiled.