Story Title: Storytelling with Envy and Roy
Chapter Title: Peek-a-Boo?
Summary: Who to play Peek-a-boo with...
Warning: One cuss word and a very scary Armstrong.
Spoilers: None
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I bet with seventy-five cents I could buy some sparkles. Nice pink ones. -Wink- Don't own it.

Sushi: I know. This will be a very random chapter. I was out and about one day, and I saw a mom playing peek-a-boo with her baby...and this drabble was born. Oh, and this drabble is set eighteen years in the future.

Envy&Roy: O.O — -Scared stiff-

Sushi: Now, I get to listen to Mr. Brightside -Grin- Love that song...makes me think of Ed. Because of that SongFic A Brighter Side. Hilarious. Now, read!

"Peek-a-boo!"

Twenty-one year old Elicia Huges gave the heavily muscled man a glare over her paperwork.

"Brigadier General Armstrong, I grew up about eighteen years ago." She said calmly.

The man's shoulders drooped, and the pink sparkles died and fell to the ground. "Yes, First Lieutenant Huges..."

Ed sat in his office, adjusting a small screw on his arm. The wrench slipped slightly in his grip, and he bit his tongue, focusing harder. Had to get this screw in just right...

"Peek-a-boo!"

"Wha the? AAIIIIIEEEEEE!" Ed fell out of his chair as he looked up to find the older man's smiling face inches from his own. The screw rolled away across the floor and wrench went out the window.

Ed blinked, mouth open, heart threatening to burst, as he stared at the general. Then his shock switched to fury in a nanosecond.

"Ar-ARMSTRONG!"

Armstrong poked his head into Bradley's office, spy style. The old Fuhrer was retired, but he still worked at HQ, if just to help out on the paperwork.

1...2...3! The general leapt into the room, grinning even wider than before and shouted.

"Peek-a-boo!"

The older man looked up, a calmly irritated look directed at the general. Then, in a split second, smiled even brighter than Armstrong, and replied, equally ecstatic.

"I-see-you!"

Armstrong back slowly out of the room. Sometimes his old commanding officer could be very scary.

This time he chose to dance into the room, Russian style.

"Peek-a-boo!" Armstrong sang, tossing confetti and sparkles everywere.

"Arm. Strong. Get. The. Hell. OUT!" Fuhrer King Roy Mustang growled, raising a hand.

The General's eyes widened. Screaming like a little girl, he fled, hearing the quiet snap of fingers behind him, followed by the whooshing roar of alchemically powered flames.

Sushi: I had to write one themed on Armstrong. But I wonder, why is it Roy always ends up burning HQ to the ground...?

Roy: I'm a pyromaniac. What do you expect?

Sushi: Ok, now, to the reviews!

Envy: There were no new reveiws.

Sushi: WHAT? My readers hate me... TT

Roy: ...Um, there...there?

Envy: We still get paid, right?