Edward liked his coat. He really did. A lot of people recognized him for it, rather than his lack of height or odd hairstyle. He mostly liked it because it was red.
Red was Edward's favourite colour. He didn't know why. It just was. A lot of people liked to question him why that was, and he asked them what their favourite colour was, and why they liked it.
Maybe they were a little freaked out because red is also the colour of blood.
But that's not why Edward liked the colour red so much.
In any case, Edward had not been able to find his coat for a total of three days. It was frustrating, since that coat was custom-made and the tailor that made it was no longer in business. Edward didn't want to go buy another coat, and nearly exploded at Al when it was suggested that he should just go to another tailor.
Edward liked his coat very, very much.
--
"Why don't you re-trace your steps, or something?" a disgruntled Al suggested.
"You honestly think that it's going to be where I left it?" Edward nearly snapped back, "That is a high-quality coat, and it's so comfortable; no one would just leave it lying there."
"But you did."
"That's beside the point!" Edward shouted, then steadied himself, "It can't have just fallen off the face of the earth, right? It's gotta be somewhere..."
"Where was the last place you saw it?" Al said, fearing another outburst.
Ed chuckled without mirth, "Wouldn't that be conveinient if I remembered..."
--
Two days, and no coat later, Edward could be found stomping up and down Central's military base, with a flustered Al in tow. He had rifled through drawers, dug through closets, hell, even dived into the garbage chute, and to no avail.
Needless to say, Edward was not very happy.
"Damn it all!" Ed grumbled as he sorted thorugh Roy's desk, with said person standing behind him. Roy hadn't asked why he'd been shoved from his desk and had to watch it be torn apart. He could only hope that Edward wouldn't turn on him in his rage.
"I don't care about that stupid coat anymore! Let it be lost! I don't give a tin shit!" Eward threw up his hands in exasperation and threw himself into the Colonel's chair. Al looked as apologetically at Roy as a suit of armor could. Roy cleared his throat.
"What exactly are you looking for, Edward?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"Well, I would like to know what might have been in my desk. Or in my possesion--"
"You have it, don't you! You... you asshole!" Edward turned on Roy, all but snarling, "I should have known! Of all people, you--"
"Edward!"
"--slimiest, sneakiest, most undeniably--"
"Brother!"
"--can hardly keep myself from freezing to death--"
"Edward!"
"What!"
"First of all, remove your hands from my neck, before I knock you into the Private rank so fast your head will spin, and secondly, kindly tell me what the hell is going on." Roy ground out, having Edward not-to-gently pressing both his thumbs into his windpipe.
Needless to say, Edward wanted his coat back very much.
--
"So, you say you've lost your coat."
"Yes."
"And you've looked everywhere you can think of for it."
"Yes."
"And you thought that it just might be in one of my desk drawers, so you went thorugh it without premission."
"...yes."
"Have you gone through anyone else's desk like that?"
"Yes."
"Whose desk?"
"Riza's, Fuery's, Havoc's, Scheska's... ah..."
"...there's more?"
"..."
"Whose desk, Edward?"
"..."
"Whose desk, Edward?"
"The Fuhrer's secretary's... and..."
"...Edward..."
"The Fuhrer's office."
"..."
"..."
"...you went through... his whole office?"
"...that's what I said."
Roy settled for hitting his head against his palm instead of his desk.
"Do you have any idea of the consequences that will--"
"I told the Fuhrer that you ordered me to go through your office."
"...you did what!"
"Are you deaf? I said--"
"Ohdeargod." This time his palm would not suffice. Roy didn't even feel the pain as his head hit his desk with a sound thunk.
--
"Edward, what is so goddamn important about your coat?" Roy was massaging the bruise on his forehead. It had a startling array of colours.
"I just... like it."
"But there must be something amazingly spectacular about this coat, or you wouldn't chase after it like you are."
Edward mumbled something unintelligible.
"What was that?"
"...like it 'cause it's a nice shade of red..."
"...there are other shades of red in the world, FullMetal."
"...but they don't make that kind of red anymore."
"Edward, your coat has the colour of blood."
"And that's not why I like it so much!"
"Then why!"
"I don't know! I've had it ever since I was twelve, or eleven, and I can't go around without it, it's just... I really, really like that coat!"
"So it's almost like a child's stuffed animal, or special blankie--"
"No! It's not!"
"... go home, Edward. We'll deal with the matter of you going through the Fuhrer's office tomorrow."
"...whatever, Colonel Asshole."
"Edward."
"Right, right. Going." Edward turned and walked out the door with a mock salute to Roy. Al looked apologetically at Roy, and followed his older brother.
--
Edward woke the next morning, already feeling the oncoming bad day, pounding at his temples. It was supposed to drop considerably in temperature today, and he still didn't have his coat. He had looked everywhere. Everywhere. He had sorted through Hughes' desk (which was stuffed with pictures and drawings and whatnot from/of Elysia), through Riza's immaculate desk, through Havoc's desk (random cigarettes were strewn throughout it), through Roy's desk (he didn't even want to think about what he'd found in there), through the cafeteria (he was never, ever eating the cafeteria's food again.), through the dorms, through the streets, random stores, hell, he even went thorugh a baby's carriage when he thought he saw a glimpse of red.
Which really freaked the lady out, but, everyone has to make sacrifices, right?
He glared at himself in the mirror while brushing his teeth.
Stupid. Why did you leave your coat just lying around? You idiot.
He swore at himself when he tripped over a random boot on the floor. Al pretended not to see or hear him, just continuing on in his quiet existance.
Which annoyed Ed.
Everything annoyed Ed.
He had less than fifteen minutes to get to the military base, and the sky was spitting out some repulsive combination of snow, rain and ice, resulting in a foul-looking sludge that was sure to soak through his clothes. If he had his coat, this wouldn't be a problem.
...goddamnit, this was going ot be a long, long day.
Casting one last glance at Al, who was obviously trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, reading the soggy newspaper, he stomped his way to the hall cloest, on a mission to find the his wayward boot's brother. He ripped open the door, nearly tearing it off of it's hinges and was greeted by a flash of red.
His coat was in his cloest.
Right where it belonged.
Edward all but threw himself to the floor and screamed in rage, frustration, and relief. The neighbours thought he was dying, but they had learned to stay the hell away from the Elric brothers' apartment when they heard any kind of violent noise.
After voicing his rage/frustration/relief quite clearly, Edward looked to the clock.
Oh shit.
He only had five minutes to the base.
And Roy was going to have his ass roasted over an open fire.