Jobs

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Ling stared vacantly at the blinding laptop screen, a heavy and nervous feeling eating away at the pit of his stomach. Another job rejected him, again.

Lan Fan came into the room as he wiped his hand down his face, and moved quietly, but swiftly, to his side.

"You'll get something soon," she told him, placing her arms around his shoulders and resting her head against his. "Your year isn't up yet, and you still have so many other places to—"

"I don't have anything else," he interrupted, speaking through his fingers. "I've applied to everything I could think of, and it's been the same thing."

"What about your dad?" she asked, and Ling unintentionally cast a dark look.

"Not an option."

"Ling," she said softly, running her hand across his and moving it from his mouth. "I know you don't want to, but it'd be the perfect opportunity."

"I'm not working for him," he said bluntly. "He's corrupt and selfish…"

"…and a well-respected lawyer that would help you gain the experience you need," she finished. "I know you don't want to follow in his footsteps, but perhaps, by working with him, you can get your foot in the door and learn how to not make the same mistakes he did."

She lightly touched his jaw and directed his face towards hers, forcing him to make eye contact. "If you've truly tried everything already, then this is truly your only option," her expression softened, "I will not let you waste your ivy league education on minimum wage, non-profit, grunt work. No matter how 'good' it may be for our society."

Ling smiled weakly. "I wanted to do this on my own, without his influence."

"And you still can," she insisted. "You're taking a job that you know you'll be successful at, in the field of your dreams. You can still be the savior to the world that you aspire to be, even if you're working for your father."

Ling gazed at her in silence, then rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you, Lan Fan. I'm glad someone believes in me."

She ran her fingers along his jaw and lightly pecked his cheek. "I'll always believe in you, until the day I die."

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"Yo, boss!" Garfiel heard someone shout from outside of his office. "Your man's on the phone!"

That Alex, he thought, as he sat down the growing amount of paper work on his desk. "I'll be right there!"

Neil was waiting for him by the front desk of the shop, smirking as he twisted the phone around in his hand.

"I thought the business phone wasn't meant for personal calls," he teased, but Garfiel shooed him away with a wave of his hands.

"Get back to work," the man sighed, and Neil chuckled as he went back into the garage.

"Alex, dear," Garfiel began, smiling as he twirled his fingers around the phone cord. "You can't keep calling me at work. The boys are starting to chastise me."

"I know, but I just couldn't wait to tell you this!" Alex all but shouted. "You're NEVER going to guess who just commissioned me."

Garfiel rolled his shoulders and leaned into the front desk. "I'm no good at guessing games, who?"

There was a long pause.

"President Bradley."

Garfiel's jaw dropped. "WHAT?"

"I know! This is the greatest moment of my artistic career!"

Grabbing a piece of paper and fanning himself, he began to giggle incessantly. "You better not be pulling my leg, Mr. Armstrong."

"Would I ever joke about something like this?" Alex said over the line. "Apparently, he viewed my portraits and found my talent to be exceptional! He wants me to paint five portraits for the Bradley estate, with the requirement that one be a family portrait! I may never get a job like this again!"

"Alex dear," Garfiel began, his adrenaline beginning to pump. "How much is he going to pay?"

Another pause cause him to sweat with anticipation.

"Let's just say, we'll be able to take that trip to Creta that you've always wanted."

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Alphonse sat outside on the apartment's balcony, enjoying the afternoon air as he waited for his brother to come home from work. Despite the fact that he insisted it wasn't an issue, he felt bad that Ed couldn't take a week vacation to spend time with him. Being an apprentice, he knew that he wouldn't be able to pick and choose when he went into the lab, but it still infuriated Edward that his "stupid bastard" boss wouldn't allow him at least a day or two off.

So, while his brother was no doubt muttering curses all the way through work, Al spent his day cleaning, exercising, studying for his upcoming classes, and enjoying the quiet he knew would be short-lived.

He sipped lightly on his hot tea as he watched the sun slowly begin to set over the city horizon. Aesthetically, it looked amazing, scientifically, Al wondered if the sunset looked so lovely in the city because of the contamination in the air.

"Hey Al!" he heard someone call, and looked down at the walkway to see Winry heading towards the front door of the building, groceries in hand.

"Hey!" he replied. "Do you need any help?"

She shifted the bags in her arms and shot a tired smile. "If you wouldn't mind."

"I'm on my way!" he shouted, and, after placing his mug in the sink, ran to the entryway.

"Thank you so much," Winry breathed, as Alphonse opened the door for her.

"No problem," he said, and quickly grabbed a falling bag from Winry's hands. "Here, let me take some of these for you."

"You're too sweet, Al," she smiled, and made her way inside.

He followed close behind her, and noticed the large book bag on her back. "You're still in school?"

"Unfortunately," she sighed, and went down the small stairwell to the basement level. "I'm in medical school."

"Oh wow!" Al gasped. "What for?"

She went to the first door on the left, and plugged in a key from her lanyard. "I want to be a prosthetist."

"Thats…incredible!" he exclaimed, and Winry began to laugh. "No, I mean it! I want to be a physician."

"Well, would ya look at that?" she said, and opened the door. "Maybe some day we can open a practice together?"

"So long as you can handle dealing with Ed all the time," Al commented, with a smirk.

"Oh, please," she replied, with a flip of her hair. "Come on in, are you hungry?"

Almost as if on cue, Al's stomach began to growl.

"I'll take that as a 'yes', then," she chuckled, and motioned for him to enter. "Do you like stew?"

Al's eyes widened as they walked to the kitchen and sat the bags on the counter. "Fu-I mean, yeah I do!"

Winry started to crack up as she pulled the groceries from recyclable totes. "Well, if you help me make it, you and Ed are more than welcome to have dinner with me!"

Al pulled out his phone with a smile, and quickly sent Ed a text with the invite. "Deal!"

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Ed was walking to his car with great haste. Damn, was he ready to leave the lab. The guy he was apprenticing for was a complete bastard; how someone with that big of a god complex is allowed to be in forensic technician was beyond him. Plus, stew was waiting for him. He couldn't even remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal like stew.

"Hey Elric," a deep voice boomed from behind him. He muttered profanities under his breath as Roy Mustang, his 'superior', caught up to him.

"Good day today," he started, in that cocky-ass tone, and placed a hand on his shoulder, "but remember to keep your temper in check."

"Since we're off the clock, I'm allowed to be completely frank with you, correct?" Ed said, glaring at him from the side.

"Of course," Mustang replied.

Edward was about to unleash a fury of obscenities, when a woman with amber hair approached them.

"Afternoon," she stated to Roy, who began to ooze and eyed Ed. "I take it this is your apprentice?"

"That it is," Mustang smiled, making Ed want to roll his eyes or vomit. "Edward, meet Detective Riza Hawkeye. We'll often work with her on murder cases, well, when we actually have them."

"In that case, I hope I don't see you often," Ed commented, and the woman gave him a small smile. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"Please, just call me Riza," she responded.

"Well, we better get going," Roy announced, and placed his hand at the small of Riza's back, causing Ed to stare perplexed at them. "See you bright and early tomorrow, Elric."

"Yeah," he said, rather unenthusiastically. "You got it."

"It was nice to meet you, Edward," Riza complimented, as she offered him her hand, and he nodded in response as he shook it, noticing the wedding rings that adorned her finger.

He watched them as they departed, taking each other's hands in such a way that seemed casual and simple, he probably wouldn't have noticed, had he not looked out for it.

"Huh," he mumbled to himself, and shrugged as he got in his car. He figured Mustang was a womanizing, self-involved git. Seeing that he had a wife was rather surprising. He began to wonder if maybe he pegged the guy wrong…

No, he thought, as the entirety of his work day flashed through his head, he was still a self-involved git.

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Jean and Rebecca pulled into the parking lot around twelve thirty in the morning. After a long and wonderful honeymoon, they finally found themselves back at home.

"Whelp," Jean sighed, as he flicked the ashes off his cigarette out the open window. "Looks like we're back in the real world."

Rebecca let out a loud groan. "I don't want to go back to the shop tomorrow. I'm so sick of retail."

"Then quit," Jean said, to which Rebecca lightly slapped in on the chest. "I'm serious, Becky. If you don't like it there, don't stay. It's not like we can't afford to let you take a break."

Rebecca pursed her lips. "Because the military pays you so well?"

"We may not live like kings, but we won't be strugglin'," he said, matter-of-factly. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," she stated, smiling as she cupped Jean's cheek. "I just don't want the honeymoon to end. Our jobs are a pain in the ass."

A devious grin grew on Jean's face, and he leaned in to kiss her.

"We don't have to let it," he whispered, and nibbled on her earlobe.

"Then let's not," she smirked. "Get your ass in the apartment. We can get the luggage tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am," he oozed, and they scurried off like rabbits towards the building.

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