In this world, there are two times. There is mechanical time and there is body time. The first is rigid and metallic as a massive pendulum of iron that swings back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The second squirms and wiggles like a bluefish in a bay. The first is unyielding, predetermined. The second makes up its mind as it goes along…
…Where the two times meet, desperation. Where the two times go their separate ways, contentment.
It was no secret that the Colonel never liked getting anything done. The reputation of being a procrastinating commanding officer carried so much truth simply because it was true. Somehow, Colonel sat at his desk each morning seemingly convinced that the sun will not set until his work was complete.
The Lieutenant would sigh once more as she watched her commanding officer become enthralled with the mechanics of the clicker on his pen.
He finishes at last. The Colonel sighs in relief at the same time each day – ten minutes before the absolute deadline. The Lieutenant swiftly organizes and posts the papers to their respective destinations. They salute each other gravely as they do at the end of each workday to signal a temporary end to the battle they must fight each day.
But tonight there is overtime.
It was a tactical decision… a strategy to be a decadent womanizer in his spare time. The Colonel opened his polished silver pocket watch and smirked at the precise moment when an envious rival crossed his path.
He enters the infamous bar and brothel owned by Madame Christmas. The bell does not startle her. She has expected him at this precise moment on this precise day. What seems spontaneous and bodily is in fact ordered and mechanical. The Colonel comes to waste perfectly planned time.
The Madame offers him a drink to which he accepts with the blithest shrug of his shoulders. She idly puffs her cigarette as her son compliments the atmosphere with his graceful swig.
Exactly twenty five seconds later, the Colonel's favorite sister Vanessa ambushes him from behind in an affectionate embrace. She giggles as she tells him how it's been so long since they've seen him… how thoughtless he always is to come when they're at their worst; when business is slow and the place is nowhere nearly as exciting as it should be.
The Colonel smirks as he gives a witty retort and they continue their banter for three and a half more minutes.
At that moment, Vanessa casually lets it slip that Elizabeth is home and unoccupied for the night. A lewd smile on the Colonel's face accents the dim lighting of the bar. He finishes his ginger ale and pays for a comfortable room to sleep off the intoxication. The Madame pockets the money and passes an ornate key – one reserved for the preferred customers - to him. She casually asks if he would like any company tonight. The Colonel ponders for three seconds and asks for Elizabeth, his established favorite. Vanessa pouts at being passed over while the Madame makes a mark in her dossier and rings a hidden bell.
The Colonel nods his appreciation as he walks unsteadily towards the stairs.
Outside, in the freezing cold, the investigator glances at his worn pocket watch and huffs his annoyance to the wind. He tugs the coat tighter as he closes his notepad that he has been recording in since the beginning of the day. "I must be snooping for a goddamn gossip magazine! Here, let me tell you about Colonel Mustang's brilliant pick up line involving a chair and a fucking ballpoint pen!" He'll be screaming in the privacy of his apartment as soon as he reviews these useless notes of a trivial romantic escapade. Shaking his head, he turns away from yet another fruitless investigation. It was always the same. The Colonel exists to waste everyone's time and give the decorated uniform on his lazy frame a bad name. He took one last look into the window to watch the Colonel stagger towards the stairs to satisfy his lust. Womanizing bastard… the investigator curses as he jams his notepad into the pocket of his beige overcoat and stalked away from the scene in disgust.
At the top of the stairs, Roy Mustang straightens his posture and combs a hand through his unruly hair in an earnest effort to neaten it. He takes a soft breath as he feels his heart pounding in anticipation. In his hand, he holds the handsome key to the lock.
Across the room and behind the hidden back door outside, Riza Hawkeye inserts her own key removed from a cord around her neck but presses against the wood in a similar pause. She rests her brow against her hand and takes a soft breath as she feels her heart pounding in anticipation.
They seemed to be waiting for the transformation… the melting away and equivalent exchange of mechanical time for the one their bodies preferred. But even as they both opened the door and stepped into the world where their desires can determine their path and future, their hearts manage to synchronize into a single, efficient, mechanical entity.
In this world, their uniforms are effortlessly pushed aside for their bodies to assume control and decide their time. A shiver called for a warm embrace. Pains from old scars called for healing caresses. Aching loneliness from many dark nights alone called for soothing kisses to alert the other of their presence. They murmur soft, sweet coos to each other for their ears that grew tired to hear the endless string of orders and dutiful reporting. And over and over again, they said each other's names to forgo the "sir" and "lieutenant."
It is nothing short of desperation. They watch the inevitable sunrise and the intrusion of day.
Mechanically, the lovers pull apart to dress. Without a second glance at the other, they adjust their heavy uniforms. Riza combs and pulls her long hair back into the tight clip. Roy straightens the gold stars of his rank on his broad shoulders. They both exit out of the doors they entered. The locks both click at the same time, shutting away this secret.
They made the mistake of looking back once. The desperation all but consumed them as they stole a kiss and their bodies betrayed them with bitter tears. Their punishment was the constant dread for an entire year that they would never have another night like this. That they would be separated by the powers above them… parted forever before death.
The Madame saved them from this fate with all the necessary bribes and underhanded deals. She removed her cigarette and fixated upon the children with a fearsome glare of warning that they would never forget again. But she looked upon Riza, the woman she already considered her daughter, and gave her the key in the guise of an elegant pendant. It was her beloved son's hand in marriage. And she glanced at Roy, to whom she coached the ways to have a strategy which involved conspicuously having a favorite hostess. He would keep his secret love and pining hidden in plain sight.
The Colonel emerged from the staircase hung over from the previous night of having consumed too much ginger ale to meet his faithful and visibly irritated Lieutenant. She appraised him and offered him a cold salute, after which she reported the Colonel's delay as having put him behind the schedule as dictated by mechanical time.
He shrugged irreverently at the Lieutenant and rudely brushed past her toward the light that announced a new workday. She sighed and followed the Colonel to the office.
The investigator opened his notepad to record what he had just witnessed and the precise mechanical time it happened. He picked up his already cold coffee and cursed that incompetent Colonel again for making him get up so early to watch his nanny Lieutenant keep him in line. He crumpled the paper cup and shook his head. Vaguely, he wondered what the hell it was she saw in him.
Well all that flirting with Elizabeth had to go somewhere if he wanted to convince the world. ;] It feels great to be off writer's block at last. I hope this wasn't too shabby. Reviews will be greatly appreciated!