Gun
"Everyone's been acting so weird lately," Havoc complained, checking the barrel of his rifle for pits and corrosion. "Is there something I don't know about in Central's water supply?"
"Highly unlikely," Hawkeye said, cleaning her pistol. "General Mustang and Major Elric don't drink water that often, and you yourself seem to be unaffected."
"The only water Ed drinks is what I put in the coffee," Havoc grumbled. "It's driving me nuts – he drinks even more coffee than I do, if that's even possible."
"Are you sure you can handle the recoil of that thing?"
"I'm pretty sure. I don't think it'll be a problem."
"Just checking." After a while, she asked, "What exactly is going on with you and Major Elric?"
"Friends and roommates. I feed him, he does the housework, it's all good."
Hawkeye snorted. "That's not what the gossip says..."
"Since when have you ever listened to gossip? You know that the secretary pool is none-too-reliable, especially when it comes down to things like this."
"I started listening ever since a certain little blonde boy said that his elder brother fancied a certain blonde chain-smoker."
"I am not a chain-smoker, dammit! Half a pack a day isn't chain-smoking, and I'm cutting down because Ed complains."
Hawkeye got that peculiarly triumphant look that she sometimes had when things went her way. "I'm glad to see that someone can finally pound it into your skull that smoking is bad for your health."
"Can it, Hawkeye."
