Gods, this fic has been lying around mostly finished on my hard drive for years. I finally got together the last parts just now and decided to put it up. No beta-reader, but my English has improved massively since last time I put something up on this site.

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Kids and uniforms

The reason why Mustang never tried to insist that Ed should wear the uniform, even as a joke.

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The party had been going on since lunchtime without any unpleasant incidents, and Colonel Mustang felt that he probably could lower his guard a little. It was an informal garden party after all. Well, as informal as upper-class garden parties did get anyway, but since it was a family party the atmosphere was unusually relaxed.

Even the most driven career climbers among the officers did play the political game a bit more absent-mindedly when General Robert's two daughters, giggling and squeaking, were running back and forth between the tables while hunted by tree boys. Mustang knew that he did.

Most of the adults were instead busy watching in amusement as said boys -who might belong to some of the invited Colonels who refused to acknowledge their offspring at the moment- were wielding an unlucky frog as a weapon of terror. Yes, the politics could wait.

It was actually a truly enjoyable occasion where Mustang had leisurely conversed with the wives, and the rarer husbands, of the invited officer. Done the obligatory praising when he was presented to their sons and daughters, and made a few valuable acquaintances while actually having a good time. Even Fullmetal was behaving himself far beyond expectations.

Mustang had upon popular demand taken upon himself to drag the boy with him to the party. After all, a twelve-year-old that had managed to become a State Alchemist was big news on the gossip market among the old military families, and Fullmetal had already begun making a name for himself mere six months after the exam. Mustang planed to make the most of the attention that inevitable fell upon him too, as the one that had discovered the young alchemist.

It had taken a fair bit of persuasion, negotiation and finally an order to get there, but in the end he had struck a deal with the boy. Fullmetal would attend to the party, allow Mustang to brag about him, and behave reasonably good. In exchange Ed got a chance to get on the good side of some fairly important people, get unlimited amounts of free fancy food at the party, and have an afternoon in the Colonel's presence with no short-jokes whatsoever.

To be honest, Mustang had to admit that the deal probably wouldn't have been enough – if not for Alphonse getting wind of the party, and then deciding that his brother should be going. With the active support from the younger Elric the biggest stumbling-block, namely the fact that Al couldn't go since he would draw way too much attention, was out of the way and Ed had under much grumbling accepted.

Mustang sipped on a glass of ice cold punch and mused over the new behaviours he had seen in his youngest subordinate during the afternoon. Roy had kept a close eye on the boy, for obvious reasons, but had been truly intrigued by what he saw.

Fullmetal had suffered trough a long series of introduction together with the Colonel without much fuss and had answered the curious questions in a surprisingly adult manner. That was, as long as the questioner didn't try to patronize him. Even when that happened he had refrained from his usual screaming rant, and instead wielded sarcasm and irony in a deadly manner, accompanied with a glare of unsettling intensity. In those cases Mustang had smoothly stepped in and reminded both Ed and the other person that Fullmetal indeed truly was an actual State Alchemist and should both behave and be treated as such.

The mystery of Fullmetal's good manners got a plausible explanation when Roy caught Ed muttering something along the lines of: Damn Al and his stupid bets...

He would have to remember to do something nice for Alphonse.

Further studies had shown that Edward sadly, but maybe understandably, avoided the children at the party. Mustang should probably be thankful for that. The pampered and spoiled sons and daughters of high officers would inevitably clash with Fullmetal's personality, but he had been surprised when the boy finally found a conversation partner in the party's oldest participant. But really, Roy should have seen it coming as soon as he spotted the old man.

The retired Major in question had been a State Alchemist in his youth, well before Roy's time, until a battle-wound ended his career and, among other things, claimed his right leg. The old man was father to one of the generals, grandfather to two of the officers, great grandfather to four of the kids, and an institution at military gatherings such as this. The characteristic clunking of his wooden leg was a well-known warning that someone soon might receive a tongue-lashing of brutal honesty, since the man according to himself, "was way too old to bother with this politics crap". Really, Fullmetal had truly found a kindred spirit.

Roy had been lucky enough to witness their first meeting. Curiosity could be seen from both sides while they squared each other up, started a conversation, which soon got out of hand and ended in some heated screaming – but then they appeared to calm down. Some sort of mutual respect had been established between the old original and the hotheaded boy, and they moved themselves to an empty table to discuss in a more civilised manner.

Mustang sipped his drink and studied the odd pair.

Five minutes later Edward turned towards him and grinned while the old Major patted his shoulder and laughed. Roy did not want to know what Edward just said about him, and even less what kind of advise Fullmetal had received back, but after that Mustang was apparently left out of the discussion since neither of the two gave him a single glance. He took advantage of their preoccupation and followed the exchange from the corner of his eye.

Ten minutes later Ed flashed his automail, something Mustang never seen him volunteer to do and much less allowing someone to examine it, but Ed just smiled when the old man fascinated manipulated the fingers of his automail hand and commented. It was probably some sort of compliment to the mechanic since Ed made a both happy but weary grimace, hunching down slightly as if expecting an avenging wrench in any moment. Soon thereafter Fullmetal transmuted the arm-plate to his signature blade, receiving another loud laugh from the Major and making Mustang slightly nervous, but after a demonstration of its sharpness by cutting a deep gash in the table Ed restored his arm and fixed the table with a single transmutation.

After that the subject naturally turned to alchemy, and the mismatched pair spent the following two hours loudly debating exactly which symbols that were the best for controlling the metal components when transmuting the bedrock. All while eating a considerable hole in the buffet, and enjoying themselves tremendously.

Mustang should have known that this was too good to last.

When General Roberts himself hinted that he wanted to speak with Mustang's newest subordinate and see what all the fuss was about, Roy found himself heading towards Fullmetal with the uncomfortable task of interrupting his conversation with the old Major. Needless to say, the boy wasn't pleased, but after the Colonel had reminded him about their deal he grudgingly followed.

The following half an hour was less than pleasant and Fullmetal's mood was steadily declining. When the General managed to laughingly say that 'the military probably would make a man even of a little guy like him' and then patted the glaring boy on the head – there was nothing but Mustang's finger-snapping next to his ear and Ed's reflexive dodge that distracted Fullmetal enough to save the General from a messy death. Or at least from having his hand ripped off.

Honestly, were these people complete idiots? Roy found himself feeling truly bad for the kid for the first time in ages, but he was also wondering over the intelligence quota of the higher ups. Didn't they have any sense of self-preservation? Or had their titles gone to their heads enough that they thought that it was a good idea to deliberately tick off an unusually powerful State Alchemist, who also was known for his hot temper and rash actions? Mustang was well aware of the fact that Fullmetal probably could blow the whole building sky high and then rebuild it as good as new with a single clap of his hands -well, possibly two- but this insight didn't seem to register in most people.

Luckily the rest of the officers approaching Mustang appeared to have the common sense to steer clear of Fullmetal until he had calmed down enough to stop fuming. Here Roy thought the worst had passed and that the danger was over. He talked to some old friends, while snagging a plate of fancy sandwiches that he gave to Ed to keep him occupied. It worked. Food was definitely the way to go if you wanted Fullmetal in a better mood. Roy had to thank Hawkeye and Alphonse for the tip.

When the disaster then finally arrived, it came from such an unexpected angle that Mustang completely missed it. Who would have guessed that a strange quirk of fashion would become a conversational minefield?

Roy had never really questioned it, but for some years now there had been fashionable among the upper-class to dress their kids in miniature sailor uniforms. It had started in Aurugo and spread from there, and as fashions are wont to do it evolved.

Girls got put in pretty nurse uniforms and some boys dressed in fire-fighter's formal-wear. Amestris didn't have a navy, and some thought that it was downright unpatriotic to have the kids run around in foreign uniforms, so a kid-version of the standard army uniform was soon thought up, and parents had much fun with designing cute little miniature accessories. The kids of high officers couldn't possibly be dressed as a normal grunt though, so you soon had six-years-old kids in full general's outfits running around, stars included. Then things snowballed from there...

It was a harmless fad really, yet now it was about to explode in Mustang's face as the general movement of the crowd had him and Fullmetal about to be introduced to the next important wife.

"Ohh, doesn't my Carl look lovely in his new uniform?" the woman said and hugged the shoulder of her blushing ten-year-old son, who was dressed in a perfect copy of the Amestrian military uniform. "My seamstress has such an eye for the details," she continued and Mustang nodded absently, completely unaware of the approaching danger. "It's such a shame that you haven't got one made for your son – he would look truly dashing, don't you think?" she unknowingly dropped the bomb and eyed Ed up and down. "That chain-watch he already wears would be like the finishing touch, just like a State Alchemist," she beamed happily.

There was a sudden silence, and the surrounding conversations came to an abrupt end. Everybody appeared to have heard that last sentence, and collectively held their breath. Mustang wasn't sure he dared to look at his subordinate, but finally a sense of macabre curiosity got the better of him, and he tore his gaze from the unlucky and clueless woman.

Fullmetal had stiffened like a statue, and his clenched jaws were almost painful to look at. Mustang mentally counted down to the inevitable reaction, and braced himself when Fullmetal finally moved – but to everyone's surprise the expected explosion didn't occur. Instead Ed just gave the offending woman a primal death-glare with an accompanying showing of teeth, which would send anything up to and including a grizzly bear running, before he turned towards Mustang – an unsettling and cynical smile spreading across his face.

"And you wonder why I refuses to wear the uniform", he said, then turned around and stalked out of the room in total silence.

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AN: Yeah, this truly strange fad of fashion really was a thing. It started in Victorian England and is, in a really roundabout way, the reason why Sailor Moon wears a sailor-fuku – and now you know.

I got inspired for this fic when I heard a very entertaining radio program where a guy who grew up in the 1920's described how he and all his friends were put in uniforms like this, and also about how the fashion got odder as the parents wanted to one-up each other – until the kid with parents in the navy ended up in a full admiral's uniform. He apparently never thought it strange. At least not until his family went to the country over summer and he met the local kids, who thought that all the city-kids looked like complete berks.