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Object of Gossip

7

An Unexpected Breakfast

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All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast. –Jon Gunther–

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When the alarm buzzed, Roy immediately turned it off and yawned widely, wishing he hadn't stayed up all night reading. Reluctantly, he marked his place in the book he was currently reading, then tossed it into his nightstand drawer. The rest of the books were tucked safely under his bed.

Being a fast reader, Roy had finished two of the books and was almost done with a third one. To say these books were intellectually stimulating would be over exaggerating, but they did have a certain... charm... about them.

The first book he'd read had been rather light reading. The romance between the two main men had been straightforward and a little naïve. The male characters had been so feminized that it was almost painful to his masculinity to read. The second book, which had been pretty long, and a pretty well written plot with a complex love triangle. He'd actually enjoyed it for the most part, except for the obviously unrealistic mannerisms of most of the male characters, and the fact that everyone died at the end. What the hell kind of book was that?

By the third book, he'd come to somewhat accept that the men in the books weren't going to act like real men, as he thought of them. Real men focused on actions and goals, not love and romance. Okay, so men did think about love and romance, but that was usually driven by the desire to have sex; and certainly men do have emotions, but they didn't express them in the same way that the men in the books were.

The book he was currently reading focused two young soldiers who'd become more than friends during a civil war. The relationship itself wasn't nearly as interesting as the way the author had portrayed the war. Some things she'd gotten right, but other thing made it downright obvious she'd never been anywhere near a battle.

Roy yawned again, got out of bed, and lazily pulled the covers up in a half-hearted attempt at making his bed before heading off to the bathroom to take care of his morning necessaries.

Hawkeye had definitely been correct about this being a study into the minds of women. In that way he was extremely interested in how these characters acted. It was like being able to look into the reasons why women acted the way they did. Almost. Not exactly. It was also interesting to think about how women would like men to act and feel; or, perhaps, how they hope men feel.

But what was really important—since he needed to know how to pull off this farce—was that he was beginning to see a pattern in how the leading men acted toward each other. There was always the man who was 'in charge' in the relationship, and the one who got 'taken' by the other man. They seemed to make the 'taken' man more feminine in action and in looks. Usually that one was younger, shorter, and had longer hair.

It seemed that fate had designated their roles perfectly. Roy was obviously the man 'in charge' and Ed was destined to be the 'taken' one. This meant that Roy had a little more work to do than Ed. As the one in charge, he had to take Ed out, compliment him, act in all the ways that he would to make a woman fall for him. Basically he needed to treat Ed like a woman, only modified slightly given that Ed wasn't a woman. Since there was no telling when they would be watched, he was going to have to make this as natural as possible and try to play it constantly.

As Roy headed back to his bedroom to get dressed, he thought about how he was going to work this, which led back to thinking about the books, which led to wondering why women didn't just write the same relationship except with a man and a women instead of two men. The first book he'd read most certainly could have had all the 'he's changed into 'she's and been pretty much the same. He shook his head, doubting that he'd ever really understand the minds of women.

Stuffing his wallet, watch, and keys into his pocket, Roy was about to leave his bedroom to put on his boots, but stopped and glanced at his nightstand drawer. He was so close to finishing the book. He usually ate breakfast at the military cafeteria, but maybe today he'd have breakfast somewhere else. Pulling the book from his drawer, Roy took off the book sleeve, tossed it back in the drawer, then tucked the book under his arm and went to go put on his boots.


Ed plotted as he walked down the sidewalk. Mustang's death, or at least a very painful existence, was definitely at the forefront of his mind. It wasn't fair that Al wouldn't believe him! It wasn't fair that he was being dragged into this stupid situation. After he beat Mustang to a pulp, then he'd go find that reporter and let her feel his wrath.

"Look, it's the colonel," Ed heard Al say.

Glancing up, Ed saw that they were passing by a small café where many of the tables and seats were outdoors. Mustang was sitting by himself at a table, breakfast in front of him, while reading a book. Ed narrowed his eyes and willed Mustang to look up so that Ed could flip him off.

"If you're going to keep staring at him, you might as well just go talk to him," Al said from behind him.

"I'm glaring, not staring," Ed corrected.

"Sure, brother, whatever you say," Al said dismissively.

Ed frowned, frustrated that Al still wouldn't believe him, then said, "I think I will go talk to him." Ed had plenty he wanted to say to Mustang, and this was as good of a place as any. "Come on, Al."

"No thanks," Al said airily. "I'll just leave the two of you alone."

"No need," Ed growled. "I don't want to be alone with that asshole."

"More pretending, huh?" Al asked skeptically.

Ed turned and hissed, "I'm not pretending!"

"If you say so," Al said, then started to walk on. "I'll just see you later." He waved his hand in a farewell gesture without looking back.

"Al!" Ed snapped irritably, but his brother just kept walking. With a low growl born of frustration, Ed turned around and headed into the café. When he was inside, Ed hesitated and looked around; trying to decide which way would lead him best to the patio.

"Are you looking for Roy Mustang?" a woman's voice said sweetly.

Ed turned in surprise to see a hostess walking up to him. "Uh... yeah..." he said, surprised that she'd known.

The woman smiled and beckoned for him to follow her. "He's right out this way. You're Edward Elric, right?"

"Uh... yeah..." Ed said again, starting to feel a little uneasy. He was used to some people knowing who he was, but now that his picture had been printed along with those filthy lies, he was suspicious of everyone.

"I thought so," she said, sounding pleased, then she added, "I'm sure it must be difficult to have your personal relationship put out for all to see, but just hang in there, okay?"

Ed stared at her in dumbfounded silence for a moment, then, trying to be nice, said, "No... really. Me and Mustang aren't dating. It's all a misunderstanding."

"Of course it is," she said in a conspiratorial voice, then looked down at him and winked. His shoulders fell as he realized that she didn't believe him. Ed was about to protest further when she said, "Here you go." When she set a menu down on the table across from Mustang, who looked up from his book in surprise, then closed it and put it down in his lap out of view when he saw who was standing there.

"I'll let your server know he needs to come by," the hostess said with a smile, then hurried away.

"What are you..." Mustang began in confusion, then paused before saying in a more agreeable tone, "What a pleasant surprise."

"I'm not here for chitchat," Ed began roughly.

"Of course you're not. Why don't you have a seat?" Mustang offered, and motioned with his hand toward the chair next to Ed.

"Look, you—" Ed began, but Mustang cut him off.

"Have a seat, Ed. You're here. You might as well have breakfast."

Ed shook his head. "Cafeteria is cheaper."

"Don't be ridiculous," Mustang said. "I'll pay for your meal."

Ed blinked in surprise. "You will?" When Mustang nodded, Ed narrowed his eyes and asked suspiciously, "Why?" Mustang didn't just pay for people's meals lightly, and he never paid for Ed's meals unless there was a promise of repayment. Mustang just smiled at him, and motioned to the seat.

It was a difficult decision. He was hungry, and this place was sure to have better food than the military cafeteria, plus he wouldn't have to pay for it. But at the same time, he'd have to eat with Mustang, and with Mustang nothing was ever free.

"I don't want to owe you anything," Ed said slowly, still trying to decide.

"Nothing owed," Mustang said, still with that same smile on his face. Still suspicious, Ed slowly sank into the chair and picked up the menu. After giving Mustang a distrustful glance, he looked down at the menu in search of the most expensive item he could find. When their server came and Ed ordered, he glanced at Mustang to see if there was any response, but there was none.

"Okay, you're creeping me out," Ed said when the waiter left. "What's going on?"

Instead of answering, Mustang took a slow sip of his coffee, then said, "You wanted to talk to me?"

At the reminder, Ed instantly nodded. "I'm not down for this thing you're trying to do. I don't want any part of it."

"Really?" Mustang asked, sounding amused.

"Yes, really," Ed replied loudly in an offended tone. Mustang picked up his fork and played with the food on his plate for a moment before taking a bite. He seemed to be considering something as he chewed. Finally, stood up and pulled his chair around beside Ed's, then sat down.

"What are you doing?" Ed asked, alarmed now.

Leaning in closely, Mustang said quietly, "I think it would be better if you didn't talk so loud."

"I'll be as loud as I want!" Ed snapped, raising his voice to prove the point. Mustang glanced around, and when Ed followed his gaze, he saw that people were starting to look at them. "Okay, sorry..." Ed amended, bringing his voice low.

Mustang shrugged as if it was nothing to him, then he said, "The more you deny what people are talking about, the less they'll believe you. If you just play along, it will become old news eventually and people will go off to find something more interesting."

Ed scowled. He didn't really see how that was going to help, and it definitely wasn't going to make Al believe him. "I don't want you telling my brother we're dating," Ed said, coming to the point of what he wanted to talk to Mustang about. Just then, there was a light clearing of the throat, and Ed looked up to see the waiter standing there with his breakfast.

"Eh... thanks..." Ed said, looking at the plate as it was set on the table in front of him.

"If there's anything else, just let me know," the waiter said professionally enough, but there was an odd quality to his tone and the way his eyes flicked away from Ed's made him feel uncomfortable.

When the waiter was gone, Mustang said, "I never told your brother we were dating. I told him that he should talk to you about it."

"Well, he got the impression we were dating," Ed snapped.

"I don't see how that's my fault," Mustang said evenly, then reached across the table, and pulled his meal to him.

"You say things in a way that make people think something else!" Ed accused, then added when Mustang began to eat, "Can't you just go back to your own side?"

"I could, but we're not done talking yet, and I don't want to be overheard, do you?"

Ed grunted, stuffed a large bite of food in his mouth, then said, "I want you to tell people the truth."

"Which truth do you want me to tell them?" Mustang asked carefully.

Leaning in close, Ed hissed, "That we're not dating!"

"You didn't hear a word of what I said, did you?" Mustang asked in amusement.

"I heard you, asshole; I just don't believe you," Ed growled. "Honesty is always the best policy, you know."

Mustang made a face that clearly said he thought differently, but instead he said, "I've never said that we were dating."

"But you never said that we weren't," Ed said, pointing his fork at Mustang before stabbing his breakfast and stuffing the rest of his eggs in his mouth. He felt a bit of yolk dribble down from his mouth and he was about to grab a napkin, but Mustang was already dabbing at his face with his own. With his mouth full, Ed couldn't verbally object, but he glared angrily at Mustang.

With a smile of amusement, Mustang put the napkin down and said, "Alright, I'll be sure to tell people that we're not dating." He looked up and motioned to their waiter for the bill.

Swallowing, Ed said, "Straight out?"

"Straight out," Mustang affirmed, still smiling. Ed cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. He didn't trust that smile.

"I want your word," Ed pressed. The waiter slipped silently to their table and put the check down, but Mustang didn't seem to notice him at all.

"I promise to tell everyone who asks that we are not dating."

Ed glanced at the waiter, who was now taking their empty plates. He was giving them small sideways glances. He was going slow and it was now obvious that he wanted to hear more of their conversation.

"Do you mind?!" Ed snapped irritably at the waiter, who suddenly seemed much more interested in doing his job than listening to them. With the plates in hand, the waiter scurried off.

Leaving the money on the table with the bill, Mustang stood, yawned, then said, "With a personality like yours, I can't imagine why you're not already taken." Ed was sure it was meant to be a joke, but it struck a cord inside of him, especially in light of his newfound confusion over his sexuality.

"Yeah well, I'm sure you'd know what it was like to be single because of bad personality traits," Ed shot back as he stood and followed Mustang out. "What are you reading, anyway," he asked, glancing down at the book Mustang was carrying.

"Just a novel a friend recommended," he said in an offhand way as they started down the sidewalk. "I was trying to finish it before work, but I was interrupted."

"I'm sure you'll blow off work to finish it," Ed said, then turned his attention to a small group of teenage girls who were walking ahead of them. They were all wearing school uniforms, though he had no idea which school it was for. As they drew closer, one of the girls—a brunette with a high ponytail—saw them, and nudged a redheaded girl next to her.

"Hi!" the brunette said cheerfully as she looked from him to Mustang, then back to him.

"Hello!" Mustang said with a delighted grin. Disgusted by Mustang's obvious intention to flirt with the girls—who were all in their very early teens—Ed elbowed him sharply. "What was that for?" Mustang asked in an offended tone.

Before Ed could answer, another girl said, "I read about the two of you in The Gossip."

"Did you?" Mustang asked, again if 'flirt mode'.

"You two are so cute together," the redhead said with a grin and a dreamy sigh. Ed grimaced. Him and Mustang were cute together? Was this girl on drugs? Had she been dropped on her head as a baby? "I know you're probably trying to keep it a secret, but hope the two of you really are dating."

Mustang looked down at Ed for a long moment, and Ed gave him a 'well? Tell them!' look. With a shrug, Mustang said, "Actually..." He looked at Ed again, then back to the girl. "We're... not dating."

"Awwww," the girls said together.

"Sorry," Ed said, not feeling sorry at all. Then he grabbed Mustang's arm and started pulling him away. It was creepy watching Mustang smile so brightly at them.

After they were a few paces away, Ed heard one of the girls say, "They're totally dating!"

"I know! Did you see the way they were acting? Do you think it hurt him to have to lie and say they weren't together?" another girl asked.

"I think so! Did you see the way he looked at Ed? I feel so sorry for them that they have to hide their love like that!"

"And did you see how jealous he was when Colonel Mustang was smiling at us?" At that there was a chorus of giggles. Ed was about to turn around and give them a piece of his mind, but Mustang put a hand to his back and pushed him forward.

"Just forget about them," Mustang said.

"I can't!" Ed said, frustrated. "I don't want them thinking that about you and me! Especially since you were being a pervert."

"How was I being a pervert?" Mustang asked defensively.

"Flirting and ogling them. They're younger than me!"

Mustang shook his head. "I was just enjoying their attention. I'd never actually date any of them."

"Couldn't tell by the way you were acting!" Ed growled.

"Jealous that I was paying attention to someone else other than you?" Mustang asked with an amused grin.

"Hell no!" Ed snapped. "Just creeped out."

"They're not much younger than you."

"At least I'm legal," Ed returned.

"True, but you have to admit that they were cute," Mustang said.

Ed looked up at Mustang, who was grinning widely, then glanced back over his shoulder at the girls who were almost out of view. Yes, they were. They were very cute. They were all very pretty, and he supposed that he'd known that on some level, but it just hadn't stuck out at him the way it apparently had for Mustang. Did not noticing make him abnormal?

He turned his head back and muttered, "Yeah, they're cute." Staring down at the sidewalk, Ed couldn't help but feel a little glum now. When they got to a street corner, they stopped to wait for the light to change, and he suddenly felt Mustang's hand on his shoulder. Looking up, Ed saw a concerned look on the colonel's face.

"You alright?" he asked, sounding genuinely worried.

Ed felt a little surprised at the concern and he was momentarily tempted to say something about what was on his mind, but instead he shrugged Mustang's hand off his shoulder and said, "Course I am! I'm just tired of talking to you." He thought Mustang might say something else, maybe come back with a retort, but instead he simply shrugged and they walked the rest of the way to work in silence.


Robin Hawkins smiled smugly to herself as she left the café. She'd gotten some excellent pictures of the two sitting close together, and she'd been able to interview their waiter. He hadn't heard much, but what he had heard was very interesting, and very quotable.

She hurried back to her office, already thinking of how she was going to write the story of the two lovebirds meeting for breakfast. How they'd sat close together, whispering to each other. There were also the tidbits of how the boy didn't want the colonel to tell his brother of their relationship and how he'd made Colonel Mustang promise to deny everything.

This story already had much more of a response than she could have hoped for, and she was pleased with herself over the amount of good stuff she'd been able to get her hands on this morning.

With a grin, Robin settled down at her typewriter and began to work as fast as she could to get this out with the next edition.


Comments are love. :)