Havoc awoke with a jerk.

"What the hell are you doing?" he grumbled, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

Hima was between his legs again, curiously observing his morning wood. She held up her measuring tape.

"Oh," he said, lying back down. "Carry on."

He rubbed his eyes as she measured him, scratching his chin.

"Eight and a half inches," she said, sitting up. She cracked her knuckles and rubbed her hands together. "Now, want me to get rid of this for you?"

"No no, don't do that, I gotta piss real bad," he replied, getting up. "Then I gotta shower…"

"We could shower together. It saves water, you know."

"Yeah, that's true…you may as well come on, then." He stood up and limped to the washroom. She followed, shutting the door and heading over to the bathtub.

"Do you prefer hot or cold showers?" she said, turning back towards him. She blinked. "What the hell?"

"Shut up!" he growled. "This is about the only way I can piss with a boner, okay?"

He was essentially in a Superman kind of position, his legs resting on top of the tank, arms outstretched and supporting himself, abdomen against the rim of the toilet. She raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk playing about her lips. "You look ridiculous."

"I know! Shut up!" He looked up, scowling. "If you had a dick you'd know how annoying this is!"

She sat on the edge of the bathtub, resting her chin on her fist. "Would you like me to have a dick?"

"What?! No! I'm not into that kind of thing! Ugh." He paused. "Oh, shit, how'm I supposed to get down from here now?"

"I was just wondering that myself," she drawled, smirking. He inched forwards, crawling with his hands, then stopped.

"This is not going to work," he growled, glaring down between his legs.

"If you tuck your penis behind you, you won't knock it against the rim of the toilet when you come down," she said dryly, inspecting her fingernails.

He sighed, looking back up at her. "You'd better be right. Could you give me a hand with that?"

She came over to him, his eyes flicking up and down her body quickly. Neither of them had bothered to put anything back on, and he swallowed, feeling a twinge of arousal beginning.

"Spread your legs," she said. He did, and she reached between them, intentionally caressing the insides of his thighs and cupping his balls, then taking hold of his member and folding it between his legs. "Now close them, and I'll keep hold of you while you pull yourself forwards with your hands."

He crawled forwards, while she kept hold of his legs, until she set him down on the floor, dusting her hands off. She knelt in front of him, grinning. "Are you going to come into the shower or not?" He got up, grabbing her arm and pulling her in with him.

The stream of water was freezing as it hit her back, and she yelped and grabbed hold of him. "Make it hot!" she cried. He rolled his eyes at her.

"It's not that cold."

"It's freezing!" She let go of him and hugged herself, shivering. He gently pulled her arms away and cupped her breasts, bending and suckling her nipples. She twitched slightly, leaned back and turned up the hot water. Immediately the stream turned warm, and she tipped her head back, letting the heat of the water and her arousal wash over her. She felt his lips on her breast, her collarbone, her neck. She slowly lowered herself down, letting him climb on top of her, guiding his hand to her entrance.

She glanced down sharply. He had his face between her legs, and ran his tongue between her labia.

"Show me what to do," he murmured, his voice hitting that low, sensual register. She directed him to her clitoris, and he began to work at it with his tongue, his lips. She gasped, bright tendrils of ecstasy weaving upwards, upwards, that low growl rolling from him again - "You taste so good…"

"Don't stop," she groaned, as he slipped his fingers inside of her, his memory serving him well, her hips rising upwards, her voice crescendoing, the pleasure rising and rising in her, "don't stop!" She moaned, her body vibrating with feeling, white-hot euphoria rushing over her.

She came, panting. He rose, his face flushed, tongue running over his lips, gathering her to him and thrusting into her, kissing her powerfully, her legs hooking around him and squeezing him tight, grinding against him.

"Fuck me," she whispered, her voice catching as she hit the crest of a wave of pleasure, "harder, you son of a bitch, harder, I want you…!"

He gave a deep snarl, his fingertips digging into her back, biting into her shoulder. Stiffening, he dug his teeth farther into her, his back arching, giving a final deep thrust, coming hard. She regarded her shoulder, his bitemark surprisingly deep, kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm going to be late," he panted. "This is the best morning ever."

She dismounted him, reaching to the side of the bathtub and grabbing the soap. She lathered her hands and smoothed them over his chest, leaving a foamy X over his pectorals. He turned around, and she soaped his back, massaging him gently, caressing every muscle and mile of his spine. He relaxed, soothed by her touch, giving a soft murmur of approval when she lathered his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp gently. She slipped over his shoulders to work his chest, working his nipples, her hands sliding down further to his lower abdomen, cupping his member.

"Hey, hey," he said, grasping her wrists again, "if you keep doing that, I really am going to be late."

She frowned. "You just said…"

"I'd rather not get chewed out by Mustang for the third time this week," he muttered, taking the soap from her and lathering his arms. "We could continue later on…"

She nuzzled him, licked his ear. "Yeah…we're going to have to, I think. You going to tell the guys at work about this?"

"Why, do you want me too?"

"I honestly don't care." She bit his earlobe gently. "I just wonder if Mustang would have a problem with his spin doctor sleeping with his subordinate…"

"I think we can keep this our little secret," he said, rising and rinsing himself off. "It's more fun that way."

"Yeah…" She began washing her hair. "You better hurry, or we'll both be late."

She had to admit, she liked being around him. He was a little rough around the edges - clearly a country boy, uncultured, maybe, but certainly not an idiot. She could detect a slight twang creeping into his conversation every once in a while, and she found it adorable. It fit perfectly into his white-boy looks and farmer's build. That was the other thing she liked - strong, muscled men. An image rose, unbidden, but not necessarily unwelcome, in her mind; Havoc, in nothing but a pair of denim overalls, a yoke slung across his broad shoulders, his eyes half-lidded, cigarette dangling from his lips, face shaded by a straw hat. The denim drawn tight across his chest, his biceps flexed and rock-hard; and, following the lines of his body downwards...

She gave a dreamy sigh, and he turned and gave her a quizzical look.

"What're you so happy about?"

"What isn't there to be happy about?" She smiled at him.

"I'unno. Being late?"

"Oh, it's not that big a deal." She stroked the side of his face. "Give him a smile and a wink and you can wiggle out of trouble. A pretty face can get you everywhere, Jean Havoc."

He blushed slightly and kissed her on the cheek. "Same goes for you."

"Yeah, I think I'm going to fall for you." She ran her fingers through his wet hair. "Let's go get dressed, yeah?"