Grief

Havoc was in trouble. The filing cabinet had decided to spontaneously explode (or was it implode?) at some point in time and he was the one that got stuck reorganizing the damn thing.

"I'm either blaming this on the General or Fullmetal" he announced to the office at large. "And when I get my hands on those two, they're going to wish they were dead."

"Nice to see you back to your old, cheery self" Farman commented dryly. " 'Cheery' being damn well relative."

Havoc huffed at him around his cigarette. "Squinchy-eyed bastard."

"Mind your language" Liza said mildly from her desk.

It was a measure of the relationship between the two blondes that Havoc could huff at her and get away with it.

Of course the third blonde chose that exact moment to barge in demanding to see Mustang. Havoc wasn't too thrilled about seeing Fullmetal, especially since he had a nagging feeling that Elric had something to do with the state of disarray.

So, being himself, he pegged a bottle of ink at the young man.

The alchemist's squawk could probably have been heard in Ishbar.