Author's Notes:
This story originally appeared on Archive of Our Own :) I recently decided to cross post!
This chapter is based on the Bonus Chapter in the manga: Roy Mustang's Observation Diary (Volume 6), and also Episode 37 of FMA 2003 (It's my favorite!). ? Also, this particular chapter is loosely based from that one, naughty Roy + Riza doujinshi: Taisatyui by TOKOYA.
Please do note that the rating is T.
A fair warning: this fic transitions from light events to more serious ones along the line!
P.S.: This fic is a prequel for my other upcoming story: Meridian. It's set 12 years after The Promised Day. It has a bigger plot, so it still takes a lot of time for me to wrap it up before posting. So, while you guys are waiting, this Observation Journal ought to keep the hype!
++ the formatting here on doesn't allow me to block quote or indent smh so I placed xx to indicate stories in dialogues.
I'll be updating this weekly until it catches up to the recent chapter (Chapter 9). If you'd like to read more, you could check it out on AO3 :) Just add the link below to Archive of Our Own's domain. Fanfiction doesn't allow external links from Ao3 idk why.
RROJ Ao3 Link: /works/26192467/chapters/63738652#workskin
Log 01: Team Mustang
Weeks after the Promised Day (Late Spring, 1915)
It had been raining all day in Central. Droplets battered its roofs like a hail of bullets. The streets were silent and empty, save for the faint horns of vehicles and their splashes on puddles. Despite the city's cold exterior, its homes, schools, and offices remain warm and lively indoors. After all, everyone in the country has been through so much since The Promised Day. As days, weeks, and months have passed, Amestris has gotten into a speedy recovery. They celebrated life even more festive and fervently.
A little bit too vibrant for some.
2nd Lieutenant Heymans Breda yawned, stretching his arms up high. They've reassigned back to Central for months. He must admit that he truly missed the place; the familiar faces, city life, booze, and women. He eyed the mountains of finished paperwork and frowned. Just not the paperwork. His superiors told them they'd only be dropping some of the accomplished files to the acting-Führer's office, but it has already been half an hour.
The sky dawned indigo. Breda mindlessly scratched his belly, wondering how long he can keep an empty stomach before they get dismissed. "What's taking them so long?"
2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc let out an exasperated grunt. "If I'd known, I would've told my date!" He anxiously walked back and forth, making the most out of his fully-recovered legs. "Now, she's definitely dumping me."
"With all due respect, Havoc, how can you be so sure she won't dump you even if you did go to the date?" 2nd Lieutenant Vato Falman made his remark.
"At least there's a chance!" Havoc burrowed his face on his hands, then looked up at Falman. "Easy for you to say, huh? Do you have any chances with women?
"As a matter of fact, I do." Falman huffed triumphantly. "I'm engaged."
All four of them dropped their jaws wide open. Tech & Communication Expert Kain Fuery readjusted his glasses as if it would help him believe what he had just heard. "Y-y-you? How?"
Falman sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "I met her at Briggs."
"Falman, you lucky bastard!" Breda gave him a rough smack on his back. "How's she?"
"For starters, she's an incredible woman." Falman shrugged away Breda's hand, unused to the extra attention his workmates had on him. Their intrigued gazes burned the skin on his face red. Falman darted his eyes upward as if the ceiling bears the words to supply their curiosity. "Uh, if it were possible, I'm certain sparks fly whenever we touch."
"Lucky you," Fuery sighed ruefully. "The only sparks I've seen in the South were from bombs."
"That's it, I've had it." Havoc smacked his hands on the desk. "Have some sensitivity! Here you are blabbering about bombs while my love life's going to blow up any minute now!"
Breda rolled his eyes. "Come on, do you think our superiors would even care about your love life?"
"I don't care if they care," Havoc said bluntly. "I'm losing a once in a lifetime opportunity here—"
"All you're gonna lose is your job if you keep this up," Fuery noted frankly.
"I agree." Falman crossed his arms on his chest. "Now, we should just focus on our tasks."
"Which is?" asked Havoc.
"Er, to wait for them."
"Hey, I wanna have a life!" Havoc frantically flailed his hands in the air. "It's all about having that work-life balance. I don't wanna be like them!"
"Well, the Colonel goes on dates," Fuery pointed out.
"Actually, they all seem to be flings, " added Breda. "He rarely dates the same person twice."
"Finally, somebody's taking my side!" Havoc exclaimed.
"Just stating the facts, Havoc."
"Quite frankly," Falman pondered. "I don't think the Lieutenant and the Colonel have any romantic relationships outside the military."
Silence dropped heavily on the four officers.
"D-d-don't you think—"
"Falman, you keen dog!"
Havoc slapped his lap in amusement. "Ha! By the looks of it, they both seem to be their own love lives."
Fuery writhed. "I don't think we should dive further into this topic."
Falman begged to differ. "I think it's interesting—"
"Interesting? Are you out of your minds?" Fuery shook the taller man like a berry tree. "They'll kill us!"
Breda pulled the little pawn away from the bishop. "Come on, Kain, I'm sure you'll experience nothing worse than the bullets and bombs of the South."
"What makes that any different with the Lieutenant and the Colonel?" spat Fuery.
"Come to think of it," Falman mused, unfazed by Fuery's worries. "They're always left alone in this room."
Havoc's eyes gleamed with interest. "Pray tell."
Falman dared them to come closer, and they all huddled on the desk. He started whispering aloud, "We all know that the Lieutenant has a habit of leaning in too close to the Colonel."
Breda gasped. "How have I not noticed this before?"
Falman replied, "Maybe because—"
"You don't need to answer that! Continue, if you may please."
"Alright," Falman cleared his throat. "Whenever they're alone, the Colonel would try to steal a kiss on her cheek."
"Sounds very much like him," Fuery nodded, dragging his chair closer to the discussion.
Falman continued.
xx
Dodging Mustang's lousy attempt, the swift Lieutenant pulled further away from the perpetrator.
"Colonel, that would be inappropriate."
"Come on, Lieutenant! Besides," the Colonel mused, his lips spread into a lopsided smirk. "Nobody's around here, but us."
"With all due respect, Sir, that's not what I meant," retorted the stoic Lieutenant. Her eyes never left the papers she was filing, and Mustang never left Hawkeye out of his sight either.
"Oh?" Roy rested his chin on his clasped hands. His smirk grew wider at her curious statement. "Would you be so kind as to elaborate?"
Hawkeye sighed and stopped filing papers. "You're doing it wrong."
"P-Pardon?"
"It means what it means, Sir."
"And you have an idea of the 'correct' way, I presume?"
"As a matter of fact, I do." Riza slammed her palms on Mustang's desk. She leaned closer, rendering the startled Colonel no chance to escape the tension. Her eyebrow arched. "Well?"
"Well," croaked Mustang. Riza raked her fingers through his hair, and Roy fumbled his shirt collar. She was so close he could catch her scent— vanilla with a trace of gunpowder.
"You know I don't tolerate any form of advancement without my consent, Colonel," Riza purred lowly.
"My apologies, Lieutenant. I thought you'd like surprises."
Riza sighed, but her lips gave away her amusement. "Given we're already in this situation," her gaze locked on his eyes, "any orders, Sir?"
Roy let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "May I?"
"I thought you'd never ask." Riza pulled him by the collar, her lips crashing unto his. Roy drew the nape of her neck closer, his hand gripping her hair firmly as their tongues slurped in contact.
xx
Havoc clenched his fists in excitement. "And then?"
Falman added, "And then Havoc knocks."
"Damn it, Havoc!" Breda snapped.
Fuery groaned, then he jolted as a thought came to mind. He pulled his drawer open and dragged out a notebook. Their eyes widened at recognition.
"Isn't that—"
"Yup. Roy Mustang's Observation Journal."
Falman and Breda pulled out their notebooks as well, and the crisp sounds of flipping pages filled the room. They scribbled it with marks and annotations on their conspiracies. Havoc cursed himself for shredding his journal into pieces back then.
"I knew it," Fuery leaned back, examining the logbook. Every page had Riza's name, which they just encircled in red ink. "They always show up at the same place at the same time."
"Except for mornings," Breda observed. "The Lieutenant has never been as tardy as the Colonel."
"What if the Lieutenant makes the Colonel sleep in late?" suggested Havoc.
"Oho," Breda uttered. "I dare you to say more, Havoc."
Havoc cleared his throat, and the three officers readied their pens to jot down their insights.
xx
When Havoc barged in, Roy and Riza were like deer in the headlights. But their desire only intensified. They couldn't take it any longer.
And so they asked, "Havoc, care to join us?"
xx
The office echoed with cacophonic groaning.
Falman buried his hands on his hair. "Havoc, why on Earth would you include yourself in the picture?"
"I'd like to wash my mind with bleach now," complained Fuery.
"Yeah, you could've added us too!" huffed Breda, to which the Falman and Fuery glared at him in disdain.
"How would I know?" defended Havoc. "They probably have done it with multiple superiors so the Colonel would grab up some ranks—"
The door swished open. The four men stiffened and went back to their respective cubicles like tin soldiers.
"Poor Miss Riza, having to deal with five perverted men on a daily basis."
"Major Armstrong!" they all chimed in unison as Major Alex Louis Armstrong strode across the room.
"Thank god it's just you." Havoc rolled his shoulders. "We could've had a heart attack!"
"Pardon the intrusion," Armstrong announced, "I haven't seen the Colonel or the Lieutenant anywhere, so I had to drop these papers." He dumped several binders on the Colonel's desk, which made a loud thump.
"Say, Armstrong," Breda began, "where do you think they could've gone?"
"I'm not quite sure myself." Armstrong crossed his arms over his chest. "But if I were to ride your imagination, they would be canoodling all over each other."
Havoc scratched his head. "In English, please?"
"To kiss and cuddle amorously," provided Falman.
"Well, there goes our walking dictionary," commented Fuery.
Breda had an sly grin plastered on his face. "Would you mind telling us more, Major?"
"No, not at all!" beamed Armstrong. "I still have time left to spare before my dear sister arrives home."
"You mean, the Major-General?" Falman asked weakly. He can't count the times that Olivier Mira Armstrong commanded him to pluck out icicles in Briggs.
"Oh, no, I was referring to our youngest sister," denoted Armstrong. "They're coming from a long vacation in Xing."
The boys turned their heads toward Havoc, whose eyes twitched. Catherine Elle Armstrong once dumped him right in front of the Armstrong family. His humiliation will be passed down to them for generations!
"As I was saying..." Armstrong cleared his throat. "On rainy days like this, the Lieutenant helps the Colonel become useful again— by igniting the desires of their hearts!" Sparkles surround him comically out of nowhere.
The four men clapped and howled like buffoons.
"Now that's what I'm talking about," Havoc remarked, forgetting his earlier demise.
Fuery continued, "While we're all out doing his work, the Colonel laments over his uselessness all alone—"
"Until the Lieutenant comes in, sigh, and say 'When will you ever stop being useless?'" Breda made his best impression on Hawkeye.
xx
"Well, so help me!" retorted the Colonel.
"What kind of help do you propose, Sir?" Hawkeye gave him an alluring gaze, her suggestive hips leaning towards Mustang's desk, her fingers sliding along its edges.
Sensing the mood shift, the Colonel flashed his iconic smirk. "I wouldn't think you'd approve of it."
"I suppose I'd take that as a challenge." Hawkeye was now beside him.
The Colonel dangerously leaned forward, his hands grabbing her waist.
"Are you sure you'd want that, Lieutenant?"
"I'd ask you the same, Colonel." Riza swayed her hips and sat on his lap.
"Now, then," Roy crooned, pulling her closer. Then he blew hot breaths against her ear, "How about we set this room on fire?"
"I commend your courage," Riza gushed, "But I don't think you can handle me."
Riza brushed her palm against his crotch— Bam! The Colonel pinned her on his desk.
"Be careful what you say, Lieutenant," he pushed himself against hers, "you wouldn't want to eat your words."
"Colonel," Hawkeye shoves Mustang to his side— she's now on top of him. "If there's anything I would devour today, it wouldn't be my words."
xx
"How dare you make me the 'bottom'?"
Their heads all spun to the doorway, dreadfully. There stood Roy Mustang, hips cocked and chest puffed. "Let me correct that."
Bang! A bullet ricocheted. Ears nearly grazed, all six heads slowly turned to face its source by the doorway.
Riza pulled her gun up parallel to her ear, with smoke still looming out of its hole. "Colonel, mind informing them of the news first? "
"Ah, yes." Roy dusted his shoulder blades, regaining his composure. "Gentlemen, I have an announcement."
Ears perked, the five officers erected themselves in full attention, like Dobermans at the sight of a kitten. Hawkeye handed them envelopes as if it were brochures.
"We're all getting promoted."
Hawkeye was the last to leave the office. She sighed at the mess the men made— not a pleasant greeting. She had been busy filing papers for their promotions and the Ishval restoration, and this was not an admirable demeanor to express gratitude.
Three knocks broke the silence, and the door swung open. "Hawkeye, dear, I'll take it from here."
Acting-Führer Grumman entered the room, and Riza gave him her salute.
"Ah-ah-ah, need to be so formal." Grumman gestured to put her hand down.
"I appreciate the offer," Riza acknowledged, "but it wouldn't be right for me to leave you here, Sir."
"Oh ho ho, won't you let your grandfather spoil you for once?" Grumman huffed haughtily.
"But—"
"No 'buts'!" His tone turned serious. "You look tired, Hawkeye. Get some rest."
Knowing she couldn't argue any further, Riza succumbed to his request. "Yes, Sir."
"Have someone walk you home," Grumman teased as Riza fetched her purse and binders.
"Thank you, Sir, but I'd rather stick with my canine chaperone." Riza waved him goodbye before disappearing into the hallway. She needed to fetch Black Hayate from his daily warehouse patrol.
Grumman sighed. Any man would be lucky to have her. Besides, he always wondered what it would be like to have great-grandchildren.
His eyes scanned the messy room. Then he caught sight of three notebooks hiding in between Fuery's radios. He examined it closely, and found that the cover had a name crossed out and a correction written above it. Grumman arched his brows and snickered in amusement.
"Roy and Riza's Observation Journal, huh?"
Author's End Notes:
How'd you like that? Reviews, favs and follows will be very much appreciated! ? I am open for constructive criticism, too! I really had fun writing this, let me know if you enjoyed reading it, too! ?