A/N: Heh...this is a great example of how I took the theme as a prompt and then just ran with it. I ran very...very...far... XD Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I'm attempting to write/draw my own manga, but it's not nearly as great as FMA. So obviously, I don't own what Arakawa does. Darn.

No one knew how it got there. The evening before, nothing had been out of place. The next morning, lo and behold, it had appeared, nailed by the doorway. An innocent-looking wooden box with a slot in the top and a small sign fastened above it. It read:

CONFESSION BOX

Have a grievance?

Need to get something off your chest?

Simply write it down and insert here!

Anonymous submissions accepted.

Confidentiality may or may not be insured.

The officers were wary of it at first. The last line was particularly worrying. But after lunch, Hawkeye herself slipped a folded piece of paper into the box as she walked past it towards her desk. That was the go-ahead signal for the rest of the men. By the end of the day all of them had turned in at least one submission.

The box stayed on the wall for the next week, untouched and unopened. Any quarrels that erupted inevitably ended up with both sides angrily shoving a crumpled sheet into the container. Sometimes they would wait a few days, so the submission could be made more quietly, but one thing was clear: the box had become a wonderful thing, almost holy.

When Ed and Al came strolling into the office, they noticed the box almost immediately. Ed laughed and made several hastily scribbled submissions. The power of the box was ruined, however, since he read aloud whatever he was writing, all of which was directed towards the colonel. Mustang calmly scrawled on a stray sheet of paperwork in reply and slid it into the slot with nothing more than a smirk. Then Al sighed and asked politely for pen and paper, so he could join in on the fun as well.

Over the next few days, everyone started to get a little fidgety. They all wanted to know what had been written and submitted. The Elrics were in town for a while, and there was nothing that perked Ed's interest more than that little box mounted on the wall—he desperately wanted to know how the colonel had insulted him. He threatened to violently open "the damn thing" himself if nobody else did.

Surprisingly, the box was gone the next morning. In its place was a single sheet of paper, neatly typewritten. The officers and the Elrics gathered eagerly around it. Comments, snickers, and cries of indignation began.

"What the? I don't owe anyone 5,000 cenz!" Havoc said indignantly, glaring pointedly at Breda, who was conveniently looking the other way.

"Since when am I a runty little toddler that needs to drink his milk to grow?" Ed demanded. "Was that the best you could do, Colonel Bastard?"

"Keep reading," Mustang suggested coolly. "I put in other ones as well." Further protests from the Fullmetal Alchemist soon followed.

"Ah ha!" Fuery exclaimed, jabbing his finger at a line of print. "Someone did sit on my glasses and break them! And you told me they probably cracked themselves because I was so jittery from my coffee!" He looked accusingly at Havoc, who shrugged.

"Al, wishing that Mustang and I will stop fighting is like wishing for the world to end—it isn't going to happen," Ed informed his brother. Al just sighed.

"I can't believe it," Falman choked. "Someone took my dictionary and shredded it! They thought it was a gigantic pile of paperwork and wanted to get rid of it? I'm…I'm…at a loss…" He retreated to his desk so he could sulk.

"Alright," Mustang stared his subordinates down one by one, "who confessed to stealing my sandwich at lunch last week? Own up, now."

"Hey, you can't blame them," Ed laughed. "They said they were hungry!"

"Who put this in?" Hawkeye demanded quietly, dangerously. Everyone fell silent as they read the text outlined by her finger.

"'I love Roy. I adore him so much that I wanna get in bed with him and…'" Ed stopped reading aloud and his face turned deep red as he continued silently. Fuery coughed uncomfortably and sheepishly turned his gaze elsewhere. The others inched away from Hawkeye, who was fuming with an incredibly deathly atmosphere surrounding her.

Finally, Havoc ventured a comment. "What's wrong, Lieutenant? Worried you'll have competition now?"

Hawkeye glared daggers at him, shaking with rage, seeming to contemplate if he was worth killing. She apparently decided against it, and instead replied through gritted teeth, "Obviously, the person who wrote…this…wanted to make it seem like it was me. And when I find out who did it…" She trailed off ominously, but the unspoken meaning was clear.

"I'm going back to work," Havoc announced cheerily, the false joy barely masking the fear in his voice. Breda hastily agreed. Fuery scrambled to his desk as well, and Falman immediately busied himself with straightening the pens on a nearby tabletop. The Elric brothers made a quick exit.

"A word with you, sir," Hawkeye hissed as she stalked out of the room. Mustang followed her, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Still seething, she led him to an empty workroom and slammed the door behind them.

"Honestly, Riza, I was going to wait, but if you want me that bad…" Roy laughed.

Her finger twitched madly on the trigger of the pistol at her hip. "I knew it was you." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Maybe I should've written it more subtly," Roy mused. "I'll admit it wasn't that believable. You're never that straightforward with what you want to do to me."

"Oh, there are many things I want to do to you right now," she growled. "Shooting you between the eyes is always an option, but strangling is so much more hands-on. Maybe I'll blow out your knees first, and then—"

"Calm down, Riza." He held up his hands nervously. "Damn, I didn't think you'd get this pissed off."

She had blown off some steam now, but was still fingering the safety of her gun. "Well, Roy, I've got to say—in all the years I've known you, and among all the idiotic things you've done, this 'confession box' has got to be the most—"

"—brilliant thing I've come up with, I know," he interrupted her. "It's just a joke, alright, Riza? I'm sorry it upset you this much, but it was all in good fun."

She snorted. "I will decide when I want to be part of your fantasies, okay? No more of…this."

"Well, the sooner you decide, the better," he grinned winningly at her. "Then we'll both be happy."

"We'll see," Riza replied vaguely. She would have smiled a little if she wasn't still so agitated about his prank. She opened the door and was about to walk out, then paused and turned. "Oh, by the way. 'I'm sorry I took the colonel's sandwich at lunch today. I couldn't help myself—I was so hungry,'" she quoted perfectly with a smirk.

Roy shook his head with a resigned grin. "I knew I recognized that handwriting. Shame on you, Lieutenant."

"Well, after what you did, sir, I believe you still owe me at least a week's worth of sandwiches," she replied as she stepped out into the hallway once more.

"Fine," he agreed. "Ham and cheese fine with you?"

"That would be lovely, Colonel."

A/N:...And we have a happy ending! Yay! I've actually put little references to other chapters of this fic in here. If you saw them all (I counted three), you get a virtual hug and ten plates of Royai cookies (I don't suggest eating them at once-a stomach ache is the last way you'd want to celebrate)! Thanks for reading!