Upon request, "Sick" reworked. Enjoy :)
Sick (revisited)
"Could you repeat that again?" Colonel Roy Mustang asked, his head resting face down on his desk.
Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye stood over him, crossing her arms.
"Sir, this is the third time…"
"I know. I'm sorry. This is the last time, I promise," he mumbled, lifting his head and looking up at her apologetically.
Riza sighed. "The General wants to know-" she began, but stopped abruptly, interrupted by Roy falling into a rather violent coughing fit. She stepped back, frowning. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Please continue," he croaked.
Riza cleared her throat, raising her voice to speak over his hacking.
"The General wants to know when you're going to get your paperwork in."
"And when was it due again?" asked Roy, the coughing seemingly gone for the moment.
"Yesterday."
Roy's head fell back onto his desk.
"What should I tell him?"
"…I don't know."
"You don't know."
Roy shook his head.
Concentrating, Riza looked down at him for a moment, and spoke. "I think you should go home."
"What?"
"You're not getting anywhere. It's a waste of both of our time. I'll get more done by myself. The sooner you get well, the better."
Roy sat up. "You sure?"
Riza nodded. "Yes. You're useless right now," she said, gathering her things.
Roy cringed. "Useless…"
"Be sure to drink lots of fluids. And get lots of rest." Riza stopped in the doorway. "And I suppose, if you absolutely must, you can contact me for anything else you might need."
A smile broke across Roy's weary face.
"I will definitely keep that in mind."