The Ties that Bind

A series of related one-shots that range from Roy finding Ed and Al in Resembool and far, far beyond. Not chronological. EdWin, AlMei, Royai Parental!RoyEdAl Parental!RizaEdAl

Her Favorite Flower

Older Brother 17, Younger Brother 16

First Lieutenant Jean Havoc took a deep, appreciative breath and relished the strong scent of cleaning products, dingy city air, and the lingering sulfuric tang of three decade old radiators running at full capacity. It was good to be back at Eastern Command. The transfer had been long coming, almost a year since Mustang had declared his intentions to rebuild Ishval and General—now Furher—Grumman had given Mustang his old post as High Commander of the East. It had taken a lot of work, not the least which being the Colonel—now Brigadier General—getting his eyesight back and Jean his legs. He still couldn't believe Mustang had insisted he not be treated until Jean had. Especially after Breda had pulled him aside and explained that the philosopher's stones weren't endless fonts of usable energy. They could be used up and shatter at anytime and one never knew which transmutation would be the stone's last.

But Mustang had risked that for Jean. He'd risked being blind forever so Jean could walk again, and that was something he could never, ever repay. But that wouldn't stop him from spending the rest of his life trying.

Today was an interesting one for Jean. Not only was it his first full day back in Eastern Command, he'd also been charged with managing the upcoming East vs. North training exercise that would take place less than a month from now. Usually, it wouldn't happen until late March, but Furher Grumman had declared The Promised Day a national holiday, which meant training exercises had to be worked around it. Since spring was prime target weather for a Drachman assault on Briggs, that meant the training had to happen sooner rather than later. And since General Mustang had 'more important things' on his plate than arranging things with the north and Captain Hawkeye was at his beck and call, that left Jean to pick up the slack.

"Well, I suppose there are worse assignments," Jean said, plucking his cigarette from his mouth to blow out a cloud of smoke. Deciding what grounds to use, which simulations they would run, and what limitations each side would be faced with could be a lot of fun. Especially since this would give him a chance to maybe even things up after all these years of running the training drills up north where the Briggs soldiers had a seriously unfair advantage; that fortress was cold.

The door to Jean's office slammed open, and he jolted upright, a hand dropping to his sidearm on reflex until he registered the face and form of the woman before him. Lieutenant General Olivier Mira Armstrong stood in the doorway wearing her usual Briggs style uniform—fur trimmed coat and all—with an almost glowering frown on her full, pink lips. She stared Jean down, and protocol finally caught up with him as he fumbled his cigarette into his left hand so he could salute.

"General Armstrong, sir! This is an unexpected surprise."

Olivier sniffed derisively and said nothing as she strode into the room and shut the door strongly behind her. It wasn't a slam, but it was pretty close.

"I see you are hard at work Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir. General Mustang asked me to oversee the joint training exercise between Briggs and Eastern Command next month."

"I see." Olivier came to a stop only a few steps from Jean's desk. "Already slacking off on his duties, is he?"

"Eheh…" Jean wasn't sure how to respond to that, and he was a bit distracted by the burning in his arm besides. Olivier hadn't saluted him back yet, so he just had to keep standing there with his arm up until she did.

"Oh enough with that, Lieutenant," Olivier said, waving him off rather than saluting him back. "This isn't an official visit, and I don't expect to be kowtowed to the entire time I'm here. If you must, take it as an order that I am not to be saluted for the duration of my visit."

"Um…if that's what you want, sir." Jean lowered his arm and quickly snuffed his cigarette before putting both hands behind his back at parade rest. "Is there…something I can do for you General? Something I can get for you? If you're here to see General Mustang, I'm afraid he's in a meeting until—"

Olivier scoffed. "I'm not here for that moron. I only came to accompany Major Miles and his Ishvalan Monk—"

Major Miles has an Ishvalan monk?

"—and to confirm an interesting piece of information that has been conveyed to me via a third party."

Jean blinked. "Information, sir?"

"Yes." Olivier leaned forward, placing her hands flat on the desk and nearly shoving her face in his. Jean leaned back out of reflex.

"I am given to understand that you prefer older women with ample chests."

Jean went hot and cold in waves, his jaw dropping as he gaped at the woman. When he opened his mouth, he barely managed a surprised squeak. "Sir?"

"Well, Lieutenant?" Olivier demanded. "Is my information accurate?"

"I…" What was he even supposed to say to that?! "…suppose…?"

"Hm." Olivier straightened up and took a step back. "I see. Well then." She turned, her cape-like coat swishing behind her. "I expect you to pick me up at my hotel room no later than 19:00 hours, soldier. Dress appropriately for an evening out and don't bring me flowers unless they're my favorite." She stopped as she opened the door and half turned so she could glare at him with only one visible eye. "Am I understood, soldier?"

Jean snapped to attention on reflex and just barely stopped himself from saluting. "Yes, sir!"

"Very good then. Carry on, Lieutenant Havoc." She left, closing the door behind her.

Jean stared at it, still gaping, before the strength in his legs wavered and his knees gave out. He collapsed into his chair, still staring at the door. "What…what just happened?"

Because it seemed like Lieutenant General Olivier Mira Armstrong had just…asked him on a date? Well, more like demanded, but still. General Armstrong? On a date? With Jean?

"Aw, shit," Jean muttered, passing a hand over his face. "How the hell am I supposed to find out her favorite flower?"

With a sigh, he put away his plans for the military collaboration. He had more important research and planning to attend.

Kaliea: So I know this pairing is basically the definition of crack, but I couldn't help myself! I was rewatching the Briggs episodes recently and picked out how Olivier talked about Riza and Havoc and thought, "What if she likes them?" She knows that Riza is all Mustang's with no room for a third party, but Havoc? And then I wondered how such a thing would come about and...well...this was the result. I most definitely plan to write about their date later, though I'm not yet sure if I intend to make Jean/Olivier...Jevier?...a part of my personal "canon".

Anywho, thanks for reading!