More humour, because being angsty is too cliched. I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Roy Mustang was a master of denial, of covering his tracks, and of the classic "poker face" that made so many people wonder just what the Hell went on in his head. This worked to his advantage in many ways; it kept his enemies one step behind him, assured that he was able to dodge around the more complicated of situations occasionally related with work but constantly related with the women who sent him love letters.

It was also reassuring to know that he had most excellent subordinates who were willing to guard his back just in case the situation got a little too far out of hand, even if the one who was fuming was a subordinate themselves.

"I assure you, Hawkeye," Mustang smirked over gloved, steepled fingers, "I was not the one who 'ransacked' the storage room."

So what if he had been in there on the late shift the night before, slacking off and generally tired, and had decided it would be nice to open the window to let some fresh air in while he'd taken a nap? How was he supposed to know that storms and high winds were predicted for later that night?

Hawkeye sighed and massaged her temples.

"Sir, I don't know who is responsible for this, but I would hope that you are dedicating yourself to remedying this problem."

"I'll get someone onto it," Roy grinned.

"Thank you, Sir," Hawkeye saluted, grabbed the large box of files from off her desk and heaved them out of the room, grimacing slightly at the weight of the box.

Roy was on the verge of putting his feet up on the desk and dozing off when Havoc entered the room, a manila folder in one hand and a half-spent cigarette in the other.

"Aah, Lieutenant Havoc! Just who I wanted to see!" the Colonel grinned broadly at Havoc's wary expression.

"Yes, Boss?" Havoc replied while reaching up to place the cigarette back between his lips.

"Are you busy this evening?"

"Well, I've got a date with the girl who works at the bakery down the road here..." Havoc blinked and pointed over Mustang's head and out the window at the top of the room, in the general direction of a small bakery where Mustang occasionally bought his lunch.

"But what time do you have to arrive at this date?" Mustang questioned, dark eyes glinting.

"Not until about eight o'clock, Boss," Havoc's blue eyes narrowed, "Why do you ask?"

"I hate to ask this of you, Havoc," Roy started, immediately incurring a look of cynicism on his Second Lieutenant's face, "But I have a very important appointment later this evening, and First Lieutenant Hawkeye wants me to stay behind to sort out the disorganized storage room. Would you be able to stay back a little late this afternoon to give me a hand?"

Havoc looked relatively displeased, but saluted all the same.

"Of course, Sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Mustang purred. Havoc sighed, ran his free hand tiredly through his hair and went to sit at his desk, intent on finishing the paper in the folder he'd brought in with him, the thought of even more overtime without extra pay apparently making him willing to work hard. Mustang sighed exaggeratedly and put his feet up on his desk, intent on resting while Hawkeye was out of the room.

It was going to be a long night, after all. He had to keep his energy up.

"Care to help at all, Boss?" the blond grumbled as he lifted one of the last newly organized boxes up onto the top shelf, "We've only got the first lot of shelves full so far."

"I'm not as tall as you are, Havoc," Roy smirked from his position on the table, reclined in the moonlight, "I'm not going to be much help."

Havoc merely grunted in reply, put the box into place and grabbed the final two smaller boxes under each arm to put on the top shelf. Once that was done, he wiped the sweat from his brow and brushed off his black t-shirt, which has turned rather grey from all of the dust in the room.

"Done this lot, Sir... what time is it?" Havoc questioned, brow furrowing.

Roy yawned and reached towards his discarded jacket lazily to grab his silver pocket watch.

"A quarter past seven, Lieutenant. Why?"

A momentary look of panic crossed Havoc's face and he saluted sharply.

"Permission to leave, Sir?"

"Why the hurry, Havoc?" Roy grinned, pushing himself onto his elbows to look at the blond.

"I have a date, Sir."

"That's right... very well, Lieutenant, you're dismissed."

"Thank you, Sir... we're going to have to stay late again tomorrow night."

"Bring the files around to my place after work," Roy sniffed, "We'll sort them there."

"Where do you live, Sir?"

"You don't know? Oh, I forget that only the women of the city know my address by heart," Roy smirked, and Havoc rolled his eyes as Mustang plucked his fountain pen out of his lapel pocket and scrawled his address on the back of an envelope that had contained a love letter he had received that morning.

"It's a date then," Roy smirked as he placed the paper in Havoc's palm, and the blond once again rolled his eyes.

As Roy watched Havoc leave, he remembered he had his very own "important appointment" to attend. Stretching lazily across the polished oak of the tabletop one final time to grab his coat, he then left the room, locking the door behind himself.

Standing outside the large theatre in the middle of East City, Colonel Roy Mustang waited impatiently for the date he was supposedly going to watch the show with. "Emily", as she had called herself, had invited him to a date to watch the show currently playing at the East City auditorium; some overly romantic thing about lost loves and tragedy and family feuds. Being the gentleman that he was, Roy had paid for the tickets and stood in line, still in uniform, for a good half-hour before the starting time in order to net them both good seats.

And admittedly, he was getting rather impatient. Roy Mustang did not like to be stood up on dates, thank you very much.

It was only ten minutes until the show started; they were letting people in to take their seats. Mustang was seriously considering just forgetting the whole event.

"So, this was your appointment, Boss?"

Roy turned around sharply on his heel to see his blond Second Lieutenant standing behind him, with a giggly redhead hanging off his shoulder.

"Indeed, Lieutenant," Mustang replied, a smirk immediately spreading across his lips.

"Didn't know you liked romantic tragedies, Sir," Havoc grinned, and the redhead on his arm giggled. The girl must have had twice as much bust as she did brains.

"Very funny, Lieutenant," Roy snorted, "I will have you know, Lieutenant, that my date for this evening works late tonight and had previously warned me that she may be a couple of minutes late... although I must say, Lieutenant, your sense of style is second to none."

Havoc flushed a light shade of red; as opposed to Roy, he had rushed home and gotten changed into a shirt that looked identical to the ones he wore under his uniform, save that it was button-up, black pants and what looked like his military issue boots.

"At least I took the time to go home and shower, Sir."

"Some people are presentable even after a day of work."

The line was moving steadily forward, and Havoc grinned.

"Mind if we cut in front of you, Boss? I'm sure you'll be wanting to wait out here for your date."

Roy sighed and nodded, and watched his Lieutenant stroll happily into the theatre with the insufferable redheaded bimbo's head rested against his shoulder with a sense of complete disgust. Even after all the other couples had filed into the cinema, Roy was left outside alone with the tickets scrunched in his gloved hands.

"I didn't see you last night after we went in, Boss," Havoc commented innocently, blowing a perfect smoke ring into the air above him.

"She was held up at work," Roy lied, but he quickly regained his composure, "She shall be coming over to my apartment this afternoon for a more 'private' rendezvous."

"Suit yourself," Havoc said around his cigarette, and then he frowned.

"What's wrong, Lieutenant?"

"I thought we were sorting those files this afternoon, Boss?"

Damn.

"What time are you getting off work today, Second Lieutenant?"

"Six, Sir."

"Well, we should have completed our rendezvous by then," Roy smirked, "You can come by at six thirty."

"Nice to know you care," Havoc commented sarcastically, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray on his desk, "I'll go pack those files up then."

As Mustang watched Havoc turn his back and leave for the second time in twenty-four hours, he sighed. He may have been a master of denial, but in the end, he had realized that he was just denying himself and Havoc of what could have been, should be, could be.

Gritting his teeth, Roy ultimately decided that tonight would be the night where he denied nothing.

"You know, Chief," Havoc commented whilst surveying his superior's dusty and outdated apartment with one fair eyebrow arched, "If I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to stop women from getting in here."

"Shut up, Lieutenant," Roy replied lightly, moving over to flop down in his old reclining armchair.

"Are we going to sort these files or not?" Havoc grumbled, and Roy smirked and patted the lounge chair next to the recliner he was seated in. Havoc sighed slightly, but carried the large box of papers over to the small lounge room anyway.

"Let's get down to it, then."

"Indeed," Roy said, reaching down to take the lid off the box, "But first, there is something I have to do."

"Hmm?" Havoc 'replied' vaguely as he began sorting the small pile of documents on his lap.

"I apologize."

"For what?"

"For lying to you."

"Hmm?" You didn't lie."

"I did, Lieutenant..." Roy paused and began cursing himself in the back of his mind, having drawn a complete blank on what to say next.

"... Havoc?"

"Yes?" the taller man replied, eyes still on the documents.

Damn it. Trust him to make this more difficult than it already was.

"Look at me."

That caught Havoc's attention, and as the blond was looking up in question, Mustang simply leaned over the armrests of the chairs, cupped Havoc's chin and kissed him.

Roy heard his Lieutenant inhale sharply in surprise but pose no complaint as he was tugged over the armrest and over Mustang, who ran his tongue across the blond's bottom lip in a silent request that was accepted almost instantly.

Havoc broke away and stared at his smirking commander, who wore an expression much like the cat that had just eaten the canary, and then leaned down again and kissed the dark-haired man desperately, large, warm hands finding the back of the smaller man's neck as he kissed him slowly, thumb slowly sliding across the nape of the smaller man's neck.

When they broke apart, Mustang was still wearing that insufferable smirk.

"A little more tongue wouldn't go astray, Lieutenant."

"You know, Sir," Havoc purred softly against Mustang's ear, "Every time you're lying, you get that insufferable smirk on your face... it gives you away every time."

Watching the colour rush to Mustang's face was more satisfying than Havoc thought it would be.

"How about we finish these files later, Lieutenant?" Roy asked when he regained what little dignity he could gather, "My bedroom is just down the hall."

Havoc grinned and kissed his superior's jaw.

"I would be lying if I said I didn't want to, Sir."

The next morning, Hawkeye frowned at Havoc as she walked over to hand him a folder of the still unfiled papers they were supposed to attend to the night before.

"Are you alright, Lieutenant?" You look like you didn't get a wink of sleep last night."

"Is that so?" Havoc grinned tiredly, "Maybe I'm coming down with something.

Once Hawkeye's back was turned, Mustang and Havoc's eyes met and they both grinned. Roy leaned back in his chair, lazily signing the first of a large pile of documents; Havoc was becoming quite the master of denial himself.

END

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