Central Headquarters: A clunky set of buildings that appear to have been designed by a drunken monkey with a crayon between its toes. An EMO drunk monkey, with a taste for dark colours and the occasional ridiculously decorated pillar here and there. On the plus side, the drunk monkey was also an environmentalist, judging by the number of trees in the surrounding area.

"Welcome to paradise," said Havoc, spreading his arms wide, "where the coffee always tastes like window cleaner."

"Oh, god, not here, too?" groaned Killan. "The secretary at our headquarters is an incompetent, wretched little airhead, and HER coffee tastes like turpentine."

"I wouldn't call Riza Hawkeye an airhead…she just likes her coffee…well, "strong", I guess," Fuery said tentatively, looking all around him in an uneasily paranoid fashion.

"Relax, Kain, she's not even here," said Havoc, rolling his eyes. "Let's just go, eh?"

"Sir, I think you should pay more attentio—" began Fuery.

Havoc walked smack into a tree. A maple tree, no less.

"OW! Goddamn tree! Go photosynthesize somewhere else, ya jackass!" barked the Second Lieutenant, and smacked the tree with the back of his hand.

"See, this is why I LIKE being, ah, "vertically challenged"," said Killan, indicating Havoc and his argument with the inanimate plant. "I don't have to worry about something like that happening."

"That's it, Lieutenant, you tell yourself whatever you need to to feel better about your height," I replied overenthusiastically, and ruffled his hair. He sighed in annoyance, and kept walking.

"I sure showed that tree," growled Havoc, trotting up beside me, nursing one hand.

"Of course you did," I responded, patting his shoulder, "now let's go get some ice for that hand of yours, shall we?"

"Nah, I'm good. Just give me a minute or two and I'll be good as new…ma'-wait, no…miss?"

"Miss is fine, though I do prefer just Genya."

"Yes, Miss Genya."

We continued up to the main building, which had great big oaken double doors with fancy carvings on them. I noticed that someone had added "Aurum est Potestas" gold is power and "Caveat Canis" beware of dog as unofficial mottoes of the military. Inside, the lobby was rather elaborate, with shiny marble floors and more oak panelling and whatnot.

"I've always wanted to slide across one of these rooms in my socks," I muttered to myself, eyeing the reflective stone wishfully.

"You could, potentially, though I somehow think that in the long run it would warrant a demotion," said Killan unhelpfully.

"Funny, I don't recall asking you for your opinion."

"Funny, I don't recall you ever thanking me for mine."

"Miss, sir, the Second Lieutenant and I have to go now, but Warrant Officer Vato Falman and Heymans Breda will be coming down in a moment," said Fuery, after hanging up the phone.

"Heymans, eh?" I heard Killan mutter. Usually when he does this, the name of the person in question is a double entendre. I'm not sure what he would be getting at with that one, though.

"If you'll excuse us now, please." Havoc and Fuery saluted smartly, then headed off in separate directions. Probably something to do with paperwork.

Once they were out of earshot, I turned to the Lieutenant.

"Okay, what's so…double-entender-riffic about the name "Heymans"?" I demanded.

"You'll learn about that when you're older," he replied, chuckling evilly. "It's ironic, considering "he" wouldn't have one…"

"Hey, you're not THAT much older than me…" I pouted.

"Ha, yeah right. I've got at least five years on you, miss, I'm sorry to say."

"Oh well, more life for me! At least when I'm on my deathbed I won't be hacking up my lungs…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Killan said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"It means that you have a problem," I answered, pointing at his cigarette.

"What can I say? I love the taste of formaldehyde in the morning." As if to prove his point, he nonchalantly blew a smoke ring. I sighed and shook my head. He is IMPOSSIBLE sometimes.

Two men, a tall bleach-blonde and a chunky redhead, came walking towards us. The taller one was rather thin and kinda sallow, and he squinted oddly, so that it looked like his eyqes were nearly closed. The short redheaded dude was, well, chunky, with a certain look to his face that reminded me of a bulldog. They saluted simultaneously.

"Warrant Officer Vato Falman at your service, miss," said the blonde stiffly, standing so tense you probably could have used him as a guitar string.

"Heymans Breda," Breda grinned, now looking even more like a bulldog. "Colonel Mustang asked us to bring you up to his office. If you'd follow me please, miss…?"

"Genya Erdien, White Wolf Alchem-"

"WOLF!" Breda exclaimed, his voice rising several octaves. "WHERE!" He looked all around like a terrified rabbit, his eyes wide.

"Sir, I believe that is Miss Genya's State-issued alchemist name," Falman stated. The shorter man relaxed slightly, wiping his brow.

"You had me worried for a moment there," he huffed, trying to remain dignified. Killan raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Lieutenant Killan Fellslift, Blade Alchemist. Now, are you going to take us to your leader, or just waste my time?" he growled, his eyes half-lidded again. I figured that he was sizing these two up, and filing it away somewhere in his crafty little mind. He has this eerie way of knowing exactly what makes people tick, and usually tends to use it to his advantage. It's rather useful when dealing with people like serial killers, and especially when someone's trying to hide information. I've never seen the Lieutenant fail to squeeze every last bit of info out of an interogee.

"Right away, sir," Falman said, saluting again. Breda just shook his head in exasperation, then the two of them lead us through a ridiculously complicated number of twisting hallways and corridors, until we finally reached the little cranny where they'd stowed away the area designated for Mustang and his subordinates.

The room was your average, everyday office place: CHAOS. Every available surface was covered in piles and piles of papers. A red-haired woman tripped over a small puppy, and her stack of papers flew up in the air like a splash of water. Breda blanched at the site of the innocent little dog, who toddled over and inspected me quite thoroughly, then the Lieutenant, who picked it up by the scruff of its neck and brought it up to his eye level.

"Nice dog," he said, and the puppy licked his nose. He gave it a bored look, and set it back down again. "Husky, right?"

Falman nodded. "Black Hayate belongs to Riza Hawkeye, Colonel Mustang's assistant."

The woman who had tripped over Hayate finished gathering her papers together, and neatly stacked them on top of an already gigantic tower of them.

"Second Lieutenant Havoc, could you hand me that folder to your left, please?" she inquired, and though I couldn't see him, Havoc sounded really really depressed about something.

"Yeah, sure…" He heaved a mournful sigh, and his disembodied hand appeared from behind a skyscraper of former trees, then the top of his head as he stood up. He emerged from the maze of looseleaf, looking rather dejected.

"Why so upset, Havoc?" I asked sympathetically.

He gave me a defeated look, and sighed again. "My girlfriend just broke up with me."

"Oh, really? That's awful!"

He nodded, his shoulders hunched over. "She just gave me a phone call as she was leaving with her new boyfriend to go on a vacation…I don't see why I just don't give up on the whole dating scene…I just have the worst possible luck with women…"

"Havoc, if somebody as cynical as Killan can get himself a fiancée, then there's no reason a sweet guy like you can't," I said sagely, patting the Lieutenant on the head.

The Second Lieutenant did a double-take. "Wha-HE has a fiancée?"

"Indeed," replied Killan, and took out a photograph from his wallet. The blonde man studied it for a moment, and then sighed dejectedly yet again.

"Some guys have ALL the luck…she's a total knockout…"

"She has a sister, you know…" started the Lieutenant as he tucked away the photo, after giving it a slightly wistful look.

"REALLY? Ah, I mean, really?" said Havoc, brightening almost immediately.

"Wait, no…she's married. But her brother is available!"

"That doesn't help me any!" moaned Havoc, slouching again. "Let's face it, I'm doomed to die alone…what girl would want a date with a wreck like me?" Poor Havoc, he looked so incredibly pathetic I just couldn't help myself.

"I'd go out with you, Havoc," I blurted.

The office fell dead silent.

Breda and Falman stared at me, gobsmacked, Breda's eyes the size of dinnerplates, and Falman's about a millimetre wider than usual.

"You're…VOLUNTEERING…to date Havoc?"

I nodded. "Why not?"

"Volunteering."

I nodded.

"To date."

I nodded again.

"Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc."

Vigourous nodding.

Breda burst into gales of helpless laughter. "AHAHAHAHA! You're SERIOUS!"

"Yeah." I frowned slightly. "What's so funny?"

"Nobody EVER volunteers to date Havoc! He's like chick repellant!"

Killan watched this exchange rather coolly, but apparently he felt it was time to put in his two cents.

"You're how old now, Havoc?"

"Twenty-four."

"And you've never been laid once?"

"HOW DID YOU FIND OU-" Havoc barked, but then clapped his hands to his mouth, his blue eyes wide in horror at what he had just revealed. Breda nearly collapsed from laughing, and the Lieutenant smirked slightly. Havoc was very pale except for two small blotches of colour at the top of his cheek bones, and he babbled something about "needing to check on his kriegenspiel", then left as quickly as he could.

"Remind me to strangle you when I get back," I growled at Killan, then took off after Havoc.

The Second Lieutenant took a winding path through about fifty different hallways before retreating into the mens' room. I put my ear to the door, and he burst out a stream of expletives that would have startled Killan. When he was done, I knocked on the door.

"Havoc?" I asked tentatively, "it's Colonel Genya…"

"What the f…what do you want, miss? This is NOT a good time." I could hear the humiliation in his voice, and I really felt sorry for the poor guy.

"Havoc, you know…I was serious when I said I'd go out with you."

No answer.

"How does tonight at eight sound?"

"But you're only sixteen," he protested.

"It's not really a date…think of it as…as a…a reward, for your, err, warm welcome of the Lieutenant and me. It'll be on me."

He hesitated, but poked his head around the door. "You're really serious? You'd date me…if you were old enough?"

I rolled my eyes. "No Havoc, this is a set up, an elaborate hoax set up between Breda, Falman, Killan and I within the ten minutes you were away."

"Ten is a lot of minutes…"

I laughed. "Now, you ready to come out of the water closet, or what?"

Havoc grinned brightly, and we walked back to the office area together. I was kind of in a buzz; my basic thought process was something like:

Omigawdomigawdomigawd I have a date with a total HOTTIE! I wonder if hell is freezing over!

Anyways, back in paperwork paradise, Breda, Falman, the red haired girl, and Killan were all sitting around a small table that had been cleared off.

"I bet fifty," I heard the Lieutenant say as we entered.

"I fold," huffed Heymans, tossing his cards down in frustration.

"I call and raise," piped the redhead, throwing in another twenty. Falman added in his bet, and Killan met it.

"Show your cards, gentlemen and ladies," the Warrant Officer stated, revealing three of a kind. The redhead had a full house, but Killan just smiled slightly.

"Read'em and weep," he chuckled as he revealed four aces, and gathered his winnings.

"I quit," said Breda, "these two are insane at this game!"

"I'll cease playing as well," Falman agreed.

"I'll play you again, sir!" chirped the redhead, fixing her glasses with a determined glint in her eyes.

"AHEM." I gave Killan THE Look.

"You know what? I think I'll be calling it a day, got things to do an' all-" he said quickly, stuffing the cash into his pockets and gathering up the cards. I marched over and grabbed one of his ears, then dragged him out of the room.

"Ow! Ow! Goddammit to hell, lemme go!" he yelped. I released it and stared rather pointedly down my nose at him.

"What have I told you about cheating soldiers out of their cash!" I snapped, my hands on my hips.

He shrugged. "You know what? You're right, Colonel. I mean, why cheat them out of it when I can just lift if off of them?" He held up a wallet, smirking.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!" I barked. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TROUBLE YOU'RE GOING TO GET INTO!"

"Relax! Honestly, do you think I'm some kind of common pickpocket? It's my wallet." He shook his head sadly. "You kids these day are so incredibly gullible."

"I am NOT gullible," I said loudly. "Now, take the extra cards out of your sleeves."

"My what out of my what?" Killan inquired, blinking innocently.

"How dumb do you think I am? Wait. Don't answer that. Just do it." As I suspected he took out the four useless cards from his previous hand and a whole whack of aces. I confiscated them. "Now go return the cash."

"Hey-"

"Just do it." I glared hard at him for a moment, but then I had an idea. "Actually, on second thought, go develop the crime scene photos." He began to walk away, and I called after him. "And no smoking in the dark room! It screws up the quality of the photographs!"