Sorry it's been so long since an update—lost my creative edge for a while, and I didn't want to turn out anything that wasn't, you know…ah, it's all crap. Oh well. You suckers are falling for it anyway. Mwahahaha! XD

Double Trouble

Second Lieutenant Havoc licked his palm, ran it through his hair for the hundredth time that hour, and used his knuckles to knock softly on the door. The bouquet of white roses cradled in his left arm crinkled just slightly at the motion. Automatically he reached for his box of cigarettes and thought better of it…she might not have liked him dragging smoke into her house.

This was going to be surprise, for sure. He felt a little bad about the lack of warning, but he hadn't planned on being out of town. Unconsciously he glanced down the cobbled street, as if soldiers would be showing up any moment to arrest him. Eastern was, after all, crawling with them.

But he was desperate for a date, and it was worth the risk. And the Colonel tended to steal girls out from under him just by walking by…he'd lost hope of ever finding anyone in Central, but there were sensible girls in Eastern.

Weren't there?

The door opened to reveal a girl of about sixteen, garbed in a very floury apron. Havoc grinned at her. "Hi, I'm looking for Victoria K—"

"Yeah, that's me," the girl said gruffly, one fist planted on her hip.

Havoc paused. No…it had to be a lie! He had not come all the way out here for some schoolgirl. He just needed to find a woman, dammit!

"Oh, pick your jaw up off the porch," she said, after a second or two under his incredulous stare. "You must be the adorable Lieutenant Havoc sis has been going on about. Couldn't you even have the decency to call ahead?"

"I wasn't planning to be in the area," Havoc managed flatly. Stop making so many assumptions!

You have to admit that wasn't fair, her tricking you like that, his ego argued back, and he nodded to himself.

She gave him an odd look shrugged. "Well, sis loves a surprise, that's for sure. C'mon in. You can sit there."

Havoc did as ordered…despite himself. But it was best not to act too presumptuous, he knew, and only felt marginally offended by the sister's attitude. She seemed almost used to it…did Victoria have a lot of boyfriends?

Havoc had been trying to figure out what kind of girl she was over the entire train ride to Eastern. In her letter, she had specified that she didn't get out very much, that she didn't have many friends because she was shy. She'd also said that she liked to play sports and read and build model trains…quite varied interests. She sounded lovely; her sister certainly was pretty, for a teenager. It seemed that just once he'd actually managed to snag himself a girl, even if he had to come back out to Eastern to do it.

That is, of course, unless she had mistaken him for Colonel Mustang. Havoc withered at the thought. But just then the sudden whispers of two female voices caught his attention:

"He brought me flowers?"

"Yes, Vicky, he did."

"Is he as handsome as I remember?"

"I think you've described him enough times for me to say yes." The sister's tone was weary. "Will you stop being so shy and just go out there? He's not gonna bite you. I mean, not yet anyway."

"That's mean!"

Aw, that's so cute, Havoc thought, and allowed himself a small, victorious smile. She was mild-mannered, even if that sister of hers wasn't.

"Just go!"

"Come with me."

"Fine…"

Havoc carefully erased the grin, in case it seemed predatory, and straightened up in his assigned chair.

Victoria, propelled by her sister, rounded the bend in the hallway and came into view. Havoc wilted again. She was gorgeous—tall and blonde and blushing in a very adorable way. He was on his feet almost at once.

They stood staring at each other for so long that the younger girl finally got fed up. "Oh, for the love of—I'm outta here," and stomped back down toward the now-apparent kitchen.

"Uuh, Ms Keydett…" Havoc stammered, feeling stupid. What was it that the Colonel found so easy about chatting up women? He took a few steps forward and thrust the bouquet at her. "I brought you these to say sorry—for the surprise I mean—and…"

She blushed deeper and took them. "They're lovely. And it's no bother…it's a pleasant surprise."

"Well I'm glad for that." He giggled. Why the hell had he giggled?

She giggled too, and it was as cute as anything. "Much more of a surprise than I deserve. I hope you're not supposed to be working."

"Well, it is Saturday," he reassured her. He did a quick mental checkup to make sure—he, Fuery, Falman and Breda had all been put on probation the day after the gun incident…and that had been Thursday. Yeah. Today was definitely Saturday.

"I suppose you'll be wanting of a vase," the sister said, coming back in with a yellow patterned one. They stopped what little talking they'd been doing. "For the roses," the girl prompted. The bundle was carefully extracted from its wrappings and arranged in the container.

"Were you out from Central for work, at least?" Victoria asked. "You said it was short notice. I hope dearly you didn't come all the way out here just to answer my letter."

"My trip here had a bit more of a purpose," he half-lied. Did running away from his inevitable punishment count as a purpose? "But I'm glad I came to answer your letter."

"Oh, that's so sweet of you," Victoria said, cradling the vase. Her sister nudged her and managed to wrestle it away (as if she was going to break it).

"Pardon me for asking," Havoc tried," but have we met? I'm afraid I don't really recognize you."

"Oh, I wouldn't think so. I'm the General's granddaughter, and so I've heard a lot of stories about you. I figured it was worth a try to write you a letter. I…I usually don't get answers. Thank you."

"Well, I can't see why not," Havoc said, genuinely shocked.

The sister grumbled something indistinct and made off down the hallway again. Victoria paid her no mind, and giggled again. "I think she probably doesn't want us crowding the house all day. Would you like to go somewhere, Mr. Havoc?"

"Jean is fine," he answered automatically. "Where did you have in mind?"

Victoria paused for a moment, and grinned slyly at him.

"Wha oo ouu fuppofe ffat noife if?" Breda asked, from around his gag. Even he, who was versed well enough in the sounds of various comings-and-goings, could not quite identify it.

The others shook their heads violently.

I suppose I really don't want to know either, Breda thought, and put his head back against the wall. Spending the night with his hands tied behind his back and his mouth stuffed with cotton was not his idea of a pleasant end to his short vacation. I hope Havoc's having as good time as the Colonel and his "assistant" are…but if he is, I'm sure as hell not ready to hear about it.

Havoc was seriously considering requesting a transfer back to Eastern. Victoria, despite some minor moodiness that Havoc didn't quite understand (and attributed, therefore, to the female psyche), was wonderful. He did, however, feel uneasy after a while. The fact that she wanted to go down to the track wasn't all that disturbing. The fact that she insisted on betting wasn't terribly off from the norm. But the fact that she practically jumped the railing to get at a jockey after his horse came in second was a bit…frightening.

"Get off me," she growled, as he held her back from the railing. A few people stared, and a few looked amused. Most, however, ignored the scene as if it were an ordinary, even mundane occurrence.

"I think they would probably have a problem or two with interfering," Havoc explained calmly, from the executing side of the armlock. "Are you feeling all right, Victoria?"

A pause. "Yes...Jean. I'm all right, I think. Uh, could you let go of me?"

Cautiously, he released her arms.

"Terribly sorry…I don't know what came over me." She turned and gave him a very sweet, very innocent grin. It was miles from the murderous expression she had proffered just a minute ago. "I suppose I just don't like losing money."

"I know the feeling," Havoc said dryly. But at least she didn't ask me to bet for her. "Actually, to be honest, I'm at the point of possibly losing a lot of it myself."

"You bet on the next race? On that loser horse—"

"No, no, I mean…I might not be staying in my current line of work. Not that it pays terribly well anyway, but it's enough."

"Yes, Grandad always griped about the low wages for the soldiers. 'The hardest-worked don't get paid as if they earn it,' he says. Quite a lot."

How do you determine who's hardest-worked. Some of my superiors never seem to sleep, Havoc thought. He said, "You should get what you earn, certainly. I wish the universe was fairer to me in that respect."

"Oh?"

Don't jinx yourself. "Nothing. I'm just babbling."

"Were you," she said coyly, nudging him with an elbow. "My poor Jean has bad luck, doesn't he? It's why you didn't bet."

"Something like that," he muttered.

"Bad luck with women? In the past, of course."

Havoc paused, and gave her a look. Why is it that women seemed to be able to read his mind? "Well, just that they always get stolen by my commanding officer…"

"Colonel Mustang?" she snorted, her voice rough suddenly. She made an unladylike face. "He's such a braggart and a flirt. Only easy girls like men like him!"

Havoc felt a smile creep onto his face.

This was so incredibly worth it!

"Just do me a favor?"

"Anything, sweetie."

"Don't ever say that around his First Lieutenant."

"Ow," A somewhat preoccupied Colonel Mustang yelped and shook his hand furiously. "That hurt!"

"It was supposed to," his subordinate answered. "Give up?"

"Oh no. But you know…this means war."

She rolled her eyes. "Men…"

"D—gah!" Havoc bit his lip to keep from cursing, and tasted blood. Immediately he ducked behind the nearest solid object. Victoria followed him.

"Hey, why're you hiding from soldiers from your own army? You're not in some kind of trouble are you?"

"I'm not supposed to be here," he admitted, between clenched teeth. His lip hurt bad. "Those guys know me too, back from when I was stationed here. I think this may be the end of our date. It was nice meeting you. I promise I'll write."

"From death row?" she asked, just a bit sarcastically. "Why is it that the first time I ever enjoy myself with someone it turns out he's a wanted criminal?"

"Hey, it's not like I killed anyone!" Havoc protested, his voice managing to jump an entire register this time. "For the love of Mary, what did the Colonel think we were going to do if he left us alone with his stash of liquor?"

She blinked. "What happened?"

"Long story short, they're installing new walls," he said dryly. "But…I guess sooner or later I have to go back and let them state my punishment."

"Well, if you're that convinced, just hold on a minute," she said, grabbed his arm, and without further ado planted a very real kiss on his lips.

Havoc winced, and then stared astonished as she licked up the blood that had a second ago been his. He was beginning to get weary of that mischievous grin. There was something lethal

"I'll come to see you in Central," she said.

Knowing his pride would be severely wounded if he didn't play the suicidal hero now, Havoc nodded stoically and stepped out from his hiding spot.

A knock on the heavy wooden suite door made for something edging on awkward.

Colonel Mustang grunted at the sound and held up a hand. "Hold that thought. If they don't have pitchforks and a message to cut the noise, I'll be back soon."

Riza raised an eyebrow.

"Er. Sooner."

"After all the rumors flying around, I'm surprised you're not up for a fight," Lieutenant Biers said as Havoc waved at him. "Jeez, Jean, you came right where Central thought you would. Talk about being subtle."

Havoc shrugged. "I've finished my business here."

The Lieutenant cocked his head critically. "Which was?"

Havoc jauntily pulled a cigarette from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. "What else? I had to meet a girl."

"Uh…"

"Yes?"

"In case they do have pitchforks…"

"Shut up and answer the door."

"Yes ma'am."

"Hell, maybe I'll just come right now." A female hand reached up and pulled the cigarette from Havoc.

Biers stared. The other officers started to snigger.

Havoc stared too. It felt like the right thing to do.

"Mary," Biers said. "You've been writing love letters again."

"Nope, not me," she said, and shrugged. "He's an awful sweetheart though, isn't he? Figured I might as well keep him company on the ride to Central."

"Your father won't let you."

She snorted. "Who cares?"

"Mary?" Havoc asked weakly.

"What happened to Vicky?"

She paused for a moment, blinked a few times, and looked to the cigarette that was between her fingers. "What…where did this come from?"

The Eastern soldiers laughed.

"Still coming to Central, Victoria?" Biers asked, smirking at Havoc.

Mary is Vicky…my God, she's one of those split-personality types. Why does this always happen?

She looked at the others, as if confused about why they were laughing. "Well, I suppose that might be fun. I'll have to ask Daddy though."

"We'll wait for you down at the station," Biers simpered.

Victoria handed the cigarette back and pranced off. Havoc took a long drag, closed his eyes, and willed it all to be some kind of hellish daydream…

"Eh, it's happened before," Biers said, slapping his shoulder. "I hear it's been better lately. Those medications they've got on the market now are just wonderful."

"Right." Havoc blew into the man's face. He probably shouldn't have, but in retrospect it was worth it.

The page ducked as a blunt-ended pole sailed past him and rebounded off the hallway wall.

Mustang turned back at the Lieutenant and made a face.

She shrugged. "Slipped, sorry."

"I—I have a message from Eastern Headquarters," the boy said, staring wide-eyed past the Colonel at Hawkeye, who had picked up a towel and was wiping down.

Mustang claimed a folded telegraph strip from the boy and dismissed him with a wave. "Really, Lieutenant. It was a kid."

"I did slip.

"I don't believe you."

"The message," she said pointedly, reaching for the uniform that was draped out of a chair.

He cleared his throat dramatically and read it aloud. "'Target captured, stop. Will be delivered to Central on the next departing train, stop. With baggage, stop. Regards, Lt. Biers, full stop.' I suppose that means we should gather the rest of our little mini-mafia and head back. And to think we didn't even get to spend the night."

"'With baggage?'" she asked, tossing him the towel.

"I don't know what that means."

"I suppose we'll find out." Hawkeye sighed, picked up her uniform and stalked into the bathroom.

Mustang was halfway to the closed door when he heard the lock click.

"You're too predictable," she said from the other side. "Now be a good boy and put the sparring weapons away. Oh, and don't let the dog chew up my wooden pole, please. He's had his eye on it ever since it came out of its case."

The mutt, as obedient as he always was around the woman, was making a credible attempt at getting it back in the bag.

"Suck-up," he muttered.