A/N: Hello everyone! It's been 84 years, but I'm steadily trying to get back into writing after a very long, painful writer's block. I got some concerned messages, I'm fine for now, trying to keep safe during the pandemic, I hope all my readers are well and stay safe! So far, I'm swarmed with work from uni and projects, but I'll try to update at least monthly or so again. Thank you for your patience everyone :3 This was a request on tumblr.

My tumblr: lady-charinette (requests are open for now, check my pinned post for request rules if you have any! :)

Prompt: "Hello! I saw you write for FMA and I was wondering if you would write for Jean havoc? There's literally nothing for him and his my favorite."

Old Habits

Riza took her time to look at her surroundings, all the while trying to not be too obvious.

Of course, he noticed. "Don't be shy, look all you want, it's a shop for a reason." He spun around in his wheel chair, grabbing a document from behind the cash register and ticking something off.

Riza smiled, now openly allowing her gaze to fall on the various goods in the general store of her friend's family. "Sorry, I couldn't help it, it's been a while since I felt so…"

"Normal?" her eyes widened in surprise and Havoc smiled at that, setting down the document and resting his arms on his lap, "Yeah, it's something you get used to."

When Riza took some canned food off a higher shelf, a click was heard. Suddenly, a plethora of items fell from the shelf and Riza immediately backed away, letting the items fall heavily to the floor instead of her swollen feet.

Riza stared at the pile of secured explosives and illegal weapons on the floor, casting a side glance to her old friend. "…You were saying?"

Havoc rubbed the back of his neck, standing up from his wheelchair to gingerly pick up the weapons and pile them back up in their hidden place. "Never said I was successful in getting used to it, right?"

Riza scoffed fondly, shrugging her shoulders. "I suppose you didn't," she inclined her head towards the wheelchair, "Why would you continue to use it? The stone healed you, didn't it?"

Havoc grinned, patting the old wheelchair proudly. "Well, you would be surprised to find out how many chicks fall for the poor wheelbound man more easily."

His former superior gently nudged him, "I'm glad emsome/em things never changed."

There was a certain darkness behind her friend's eyes Riza recognized, one she herself held contained just beneath the surface of a practiced smile and professionalism.

The war, the Homunculi, the casualties, the loss of their friends and loved ones. There were only so many things a human was capable of surviving.

He patted her shoulder, squeezing with a grateful smile on his lips, for once not wrapped around a cigarette. "I'm glad some things emdid/em change," his eyes suddenly zeroed in on her stomach and the smile morphed into a full-blown grin. "Look at you, looking rounder every day!" it was that boyish grin that made Riza's heart melt, reminding her of their younger days in the military academy.

"I do hope you're talking about my wife's stomach." A new but not unfamiliar voice entered his ears and Havoc's grin widened, if that were even possible.

"Look at the happy expecting father! You're glowing Mustang!" Havoc and Roy shared a tight hug, Havoc patting his former superior and friend on the back for good measure.

"It's been a while, Havoc." Roy smiled, kissing his wife's forehead tenderly. Normally the couple wouldn't engage in such affectionate gestures outside of the privacy of their own home, but Havoc and the rest of the old team were family, after all.

"So, am I an uncle to a boy or a girl?" Havoc leaned down and rested a hand gently on his pregnant friend's stomach with her nod of approval.

"It's a surprise," Riza looked expectantly at her husband, "Somebody wanted to make it special and throw a party when the baby is born to find out."

Havoc shook his head, "You're gonna have your hands full with two babies, Riza."

Roy snapped his head up at the insult. "Hey!"

Riza giggled at her husband's outrage, smiling fondly when the two men bickered back and forth, reminding her of the old times.

Once the expecting couple left, Havoc closed up shop, taking his coffee and moving to sit on the front porch, the setting sun bathing him in warmth.

He toyed with the lighter in his hand, still remembering when he threw it at Lust and thought it had done its job of killing her. How naïve he had been back then.

The scars on his body spoke of his mistakes, but also of his achievements.

A testament to everything that tried to kill him and he gave each of those monsters the middle finger by standing there today, alive and kicking.

Havoc produced a cigarette from his other pants pocket, setting down the mug to light it.

Old habits died hard.

The smoke that filled his lungs felt like a breath of fresh air and the sensation of euphoria taking over his weary body made him almost lightheaded.

The setting sun seemed to salute him as it set, night slowly falling over the small rural town of his youth.

His cigarette was almost done too, how fast they seemed to run out. Or did they get shorter?

These things will kill you one day!

Roy's words echoed in his mind like his mother's tongue lashings whenever he was caught smoking at school. The teachers always threw a fit.

With a flick of his wrist, Havoc dumped the cigarette on the ash tray and slowly began his trek back home, coffee mug still in hand. The bitter taste left him yearning for one more smoke, but he promised his friends he wouldn't smoke as often as he used to.

Old habits died hard, but he never said he wasn't trying.

Thanks for reading!