On goes the Christmas fiction!

-V-Neck Wednesday-

V-neck didn't start with a W, but they figured it was close enough to make some sort of cute alliteration.

He was already anticipating Tuesday morning since the night previous. He had lay in bed the night before imagining the various kinds of v-necks—letting his mind wander to visualize deeper and deeper v-necks—so he was almost ready for anything.

Based on her clothing choice from yesterday, Mustang could only guess that her v-neck was going to be modest. Just a peek at her well-defined collarbones.

A man could imagine right?

But what a lucky man he was—Hawkeye seemed to be very forgiving about the depth of her collar that day.

She walked in with a military overcoat, no doubt. The colonel sank in his seat, thinking that she was going to be playing the 'not very specific guidelines' trick like she had on Tuesday. To his surprise, she pulled off her overcoat, revealing the back of a dark blue sweater that Mustang had never seen on her before.

Not that he kept track of what she wore outside of work.

That bump at the grocer's was just a one-time thing, he swore.

And then she turned around.

He knew that the military uniform shrank women's cup sizes down a few letters, but god damn she had cleavage.

Mustang smiled, biting his lip as he let the image sink and burn into the deepest crevices of his brain. He would lock that image in there forever.

Once his eyes were done recording, he glanced over at the other men of the office.

And it was then that he realized that it wasn't just him watching Hawkeye, but everyone else too.

Then Mustang felt a pang of something familiar. Something that he didn't feel all the time, but experienced every so often—when the guys were (immaturely) comparing and bragging about the size of each other's manhoods, when someone that had just started working immediately got a promotion from the General, when he overheard Hawkeye's friends suggesting that she date a certain other someone…

Jealousy?

The colonel shook the idea out of his head, refusing to admit.

flashback to Sunday

Mustang was out of ideas—as well as words that started with T—for the Thursday.

The two men pondered, running a closet of clothing types through their head (that would look very good as well) for a while. It wasn't until about a full fifteen minutes later when Havoc's eyes widened as though he had the ultimate plan—

"Topless Thursday!"

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