This fic should have been a drabble in my Misconceptions series. I got a little carried away, but at least it is still crack and there is still a part about misconceptions... Anyway, hope you will like it and if you find the fic confusing, it is normal. So, to answer possible further questions, yes the characters are still who they are and yes they are also the actors of the tv show FMA and no there is no other reasons for that than I feeling like it.
TITLE: Misconceptions About Blonds
FANDOM: Fullmetal Alchemist
PAIRING: None really but many hints
GENRE: Crack
RATING: PG-13 I guess --
WARNING: yaoi, bad humor, slight language, vague sexual references, spoilers throughout the series and manga
DISCLAIMER: Nor Fullmetal nor its characters are mine, no money is being made here so don't sue or whatever.
SUMMARY: Report from the Audience has come and Roy is brooding. Breda tries to cheer him up.
When Breda came strolling into the office, he expected to find it empty, as it was well past working hours. He was grumbling to himself, annoyed for having to come back to fetch his forgotten wallet. He spent enough time at HQ already without wanting to hang out here outside of his shift. That couldn't be helped; he might need his wallet during the week-end.
What he hadn't expected to find was his Colonel sitting limp at Hawkeye's desk and nursing a glass of what looked like bourbon in trembling hands. Breda contemplated backtracking fast: he could always pretend he hadn't seen his superior officer in obvious distress. That was the kind of situation he loathed, he was so i not /i equipped to lend a sympathetic ear to others' problems.
Whiny people gave him the runs and he knew that Mustang whined with the same flourish he did everything else. Surely, there were people out there much more suited to be the man's confident. Yeah sure! Not his problem! He would creep back silently, none the wiser and he could always stop by the dorms on his way home to tap Farman some money for the week-end. And Mustang would stay here... alone... drinking and despairing...
Breda barely stifled a groan. As infuriating as the Colonel could be, he was still part of the team. Hell, he was the team! Mustang had no one else but him right now and for all his calculated indifference, the red-haired couldn't ever leave a man down. With a wary sigh and a slump of his shoulders, he entered the office signaling his presence with heavy footsteps.
Roy lifted his head from a sheet of paper he had been absently staring at. Seeing his subordinate standing a few feet from his desk he straightened awkwardly and gave a little smile. This one was pitiful, oddly out of place on the usually smirking lips. Breda was hard-pressed not to sigh once again. The bastard looked even worse up close and the improvised cheering team didnt't feel up to par.
"Good evening Colonel."
"Heymans! What a pleasant surprise! You will join me for a drink, of course!"
Of course... As if he had a choice. His conscience wouldn't let him rest if he abandoned Mustang to his lonely drinking. Anyway, the man had already pushed an empty glass toward him. Breda dragged a chair and sat in front of the Colonel while the other filled his glass. The man had called him Heymans. Did that mean they were on first name basis here? Should he called the man Roy? Was it the sympathetic thing to do in such a situation? Was that a way to ease them into friendly male bonding that would make confessions easier? Breda cursed himself for the nth time, he really had no idea how these things worked.
"Err... You're here late tonight, Col... Anything in particular keeping you busy?" The Second Lieutenant coughed a little to hide the slip in addressing Mustang. He prayed the man would give him some tip regarding this matter as he didn't want to appear disrespectful nor uncaring.
"Nah! It's nothing you should concern yourself about. You're not drinking. Don't you like bourbon? It is a really fine brand, I don't drink cheap things. What are you waiting for. Drink! You wouldn't want to insult me, would you?"
Heymans gulped at the reprimand and seized the glass eagerly, making the amber liquid pitch dangerously close to the edge. He calmed his nerves before it had the time to spill and took a careful sip. He had nothing against bourbon, but he didn't want to drink all that much. Chances were he would have a big enough headache, when the conversation was over, to risk worsening it with alcohol abuse. Still, he couldn't brush off the Colonel as it wouldn't do to piss him off when he was already in a bad mood. Mustang's hands were bare and the gloves were nowhere in sight, but one was never too careful.
Mustang was studying him carefully, with the fixated attention that only the drunk or the insane could pull off. After a long uncomfortable while, he appeared placated by Breda's willingness to drink and turned his attention back to staring at the paper on the desk. Now that he was close enough, Heymans tried and see what had the Colonel so interested. He couldn't really read it upside down, not without being obvious, but he recognized the heading. It was from the production, a circular by the look of it. Did they plan a reduction in staff or something?
"I am a good officer, aren't I Lieutenant? I am a worthy leader. My subordinates respect me. They worship me even, don't they?"
"Huh? Sure... I mean, of course, Sir! You are the best that happened to the Military, Sir!"
That was it, the man had been fired. How was that even possible? And what could he do about that? The Colonel could be a pain sometimes, but he was a good officer, the better he had ever worked under. While he was distracted, Mustang's shoulders had slumped lower and he had groaned self-depreciatingly.
"That's what I thought. So, that's not the problem. Yet, I am handsome, there is no denying it. Women are crawling at my feet. They would do anything for a minute of my time. And the men... the men hate me, they are insanely jealous of my good looks. That had to be something! I am handsome, aren't I?"
Breda had started at the sudden outburst. Now he stared... and stared.
"Well...?"
Mustang didn't really expect an answer, did he? What was he supposed to say exactly? 'Yes, Roy you are one sexy piece of ass, I want to bear your babies?' He didn't care what Mustang looked like, he was a man for fuck's sake! It wasn't like he had anything to compare with. He wasn't in the habit of oggling other males and least of all his superior officers.
His thoughts were all in a jumble and even with the better will in the world, he couldn't utter a single word. Then, he saw the little light the one-sided argument had put in Mustang's eyes flicker and die and he felt guilty. He really sucked at this cheering thing, but he was all the Colonel had right now and if the man needed to hear his male subordinate tell him he was handsome, that is exactly what the man would get.
"You are a really handsome man, Sir!"
"Really? You're not humoring me?"
There was such hope in the suddenly upturned face it was creepy. Next thing he knew the Colonel would give him puppy eyes.
"I wouldn't lie to you, Sir. You really are handsome. Everybody knows that. I would have to be blind to not see it. You're probably the most handsome man in the whole cast..."
The hopeful expression that had been slowly creeping on Mustang's face was abruptly squashed by his last statement. Roy slumped once more with a noise that sounded awfully like a sob. What now? What did he do? Surely there was nothing in what he said that warranted such a reaction. He had told the man he was handsome so what was the problem?
"Am not! Viewers prefer blonds."
There was a defeated sigh, then nothing but silence. Mustang was crumbled upon himself and staring blankly at his hands folded in his lap. He wasn't even interested in his drink anymore. Breda was trying to puzzle that but for all his well-known genius, he was at a loss. Then, he remembered the circular Roy had been staring at and seeing the man seemed now uninterested, he grabbed the sheet of paper. He went through the text quickly and groaned in dismay.
That was what had the Colonel's nerves in a bunch? Humpf... that figured! How vain one could be? At least, now it wasn't about comfort anymore. Now, Heymans had just to convince Roy he was being stupid. That was like the strategical games he enjoyed, he would have to move his arguments forward as if they were pawns and try to back the king of stupidity into a corner.
Yes, he respected his commanding officer and was even ready to comfort him if the man suffered. He still thought the man was an arrogant prick most of the time and was never far behind Havoc when there was an occasion to humiliate the bastard. That wasn't good or bad from him, it was just the dynamics of their team: united in adversity, unforgiving the rest of the time. He would put Mustang's fears to rest, because a depressive leader was useless, but he would have fun doing it.
"So the Audience thought our blonds are sexy, so what? That's not the end of the world, they didn't say you weren't sexy just that they are sexier..."
That may have been a little mean, at least if the disheartened groan coming from Roy was any indication. Still, it was fun to tease him. The man had an ego the size of Amestris, that was good that for once he was bested in something. Now, to find yet more creative ways to pretend to cheer him up while humiliating him more.
"Don't be so down! If your adoring fans don't fall for your looks anymore, you still have your brains, Sir. After all it is well-known that blonds are dumb."
That granted him a reaction. Mustang's head suddenly snapped up and he gave his red-haired subordinate a disbelieving look.
"Are you nuts Breda? Have you ever had a conversation with any of the blonds we're talking about? The Elric brothers are freaking encyclopedias and the Tringham ones are almost as bad."
"Well there's still Havoc. He's not that smart."
"Oh yes thank you that makes me feel so much better. I am smarter than one of the blonds among all they are in the cast."
"If we count the women, you might be smarter than Winry and Riza."
Roy had a full body shudder that was on the edge of a seizure and threw frightened glances around as if searching possible on-lookers.
"Be my guest and tell them then! I won't be held accountable when they torture you to death."
Breda heed the unvoiced advice and moved on. It wouldn't do to depreciate the two blond Valkyries even where no one was listening. Hawkeye for one had the uncanny ability to always know what her staff was up to and while he didn't know Miss Rockbell that well, he knew that Ed feared her, which was enough of a reason to be wary of her. Moreover, there was still more fun to have.
"There is one blond that was clearly stated as being less sexy than you, Sir..." The Second Lieutenant held a careful pause to draw Roy's attention and when he had it, dropped the bomb with an inward snicker. "Hoenheim Elric!"
"I hope so! The geezer is decaying, for God's sake! Literally. There shouldn't even be comparison! Yet, there are fans who write porn about him, when they should be writing about me. If they want a father figure fucking Ed, I am so much more suited!"
The Colonel looked like he had swallowed a lemon and Breda was evilly enjoying himself. Thoughts of ranks and the respect which should be due to his leader had all but flew with the flow of arguing. That wasn't everyday you could see Mustang all flustered.
"I don't know about that. I think he is kinda cool, as an older version of Ed and you have to recognize that Edward is gorgeous. Hell, he is not the main character for nothing."
"Yeah, yeah Fullmetal is hot alright. That doesn't mean that his old man is. It is every bit as ridiculous as to think Hughes would marry a woman looking like Gracia if we really have been sleeping together at some point."
"Well... Mrs Hughes is a pretty lady."
Roy snorted inelegantly and slumped on the desk, putting his chin on his crossed arms. He threw an accusatory glance to the plump soldier, as if he had anything to do with his predicament.
"Dumped. Me! Dumped for a blond! How could the scriptwriters be so mean?"
"Mrs Hughes isn't really blond, Colonel." Breda argued as if that changed anything and for all he knew of his superior's deranged psyche, it might. He also wisely passed on the fact that Roy was behaving like he had been dumped in real life and not in a TV show. Some things were better left unchallenged.
"She's more blond than not! Honestly, I really can't see what they find so hot with those blonds. I shall concede for Ed; the kid is the poster child for rape, but the others... that's nonsense!"
"The Tringham kid is not bad. I think ladies must like the bangs in his face. It gives him some mysterious charm."
"Mysterious charm? Russel? Are you kidding? He wear suspenders! Do you know anything that is more uncool? No! Don't answer that! That would be the ridiculous hat his little brother wear."
"You're right, Sir. That's really a wonder how the Audience could vote those losers as being sexier than you."
The Second Lieutenant harbored a suitably puzzled expression. Inwardly, he was laughing madly. If he had known the man would be so much fun while ranting, he would have teased him ages ago. Pity that Jean wasn't here to see that, his friend would never believe him.
"Did you see that even Al has more fans than myself? There are people out there that write fictions where he has sex. They don't even know how he looks like! They only ever saw him as a kid or in the armor and yet they have the guts to say he is sexier than I! Ah they should see him when we're off set! If only there was a way to show the viewers his little skin condition when he looses the armor..."
"While we're on the matter of skin, what do they think about Scar?"
Breda had had ample time to note every bit of the report and so knew perfectly what the vote was in this regards, but it was so much fun seeing Roy squirm. He mentally decked the little angel on his right shoulder and high-fived the devil who was grinning proudly on the left one.
"You wouldn't believe it! They think this scarred lumberjack is hotter than hell. For God's sake! He has the delicacy of a bulldozer. All brawn and no brains! I would like to see him in a bedroom; he wouldn't know how to treat a lover properly. Even Lust chose his brother over him and the guy was ugly and insane."
"You know what Colonel, I really don't think it is a matter of you against all the blonds. The cast is just this way. Every dark-haired actor seemed to be at a disadvantage here. Take the women for example. In the busty category, we have Lust against Psyren. The episode in Aquroya was one of the most successful and the production is talking about making a sequel, maybe even a spin-off. Meanwhile, Lust's role is going to be suppressed 'cause she bores the viewers now that she isn't totally evil anymore..."
Mustang had perked up and looked enraptured by Breda's explanation. He seemed to ponder the follow-up on his own. After a moment of reflexion he was the one to pursue.
"The flat-chested ones aren't better: Winry versus Lyra. The comparison is fatally cruel. The designer has Winry strutting about in barely decent clothes while Lyra is hunched up in an outdated outfit that makes her look like she has zero fashion sense."
"Yet, they put her in a french maid's outfit a while ago."
"Yeah, but that was last season and the skirt was too long anyway."
"True enough. The mother figures are even worse I think. Riza is always in uniform and do we know women in uniform are hot." They exchanged knowing smirks and dreamy looks before Heymans resumed with his argument. "Against that, they put Mrs Curtis... I respect the woman but..."
"...but she is a violent and wrinkled countrywoman who constantly coughs and spits blood. Kinda repulsive."
"Now that I think about it, there is as much blond as dark-haired actresses, but on the male side, you are sadly outnumbered."
"Of course we are! The production hates us. They never want to heed our demands and now look at that: with Greed and Hughes dying last season, who does that leave? And don't count Kimblee, he whined for an augmentation and they threatened to cut his part. I don't think we will see much of him next year. That leaves ... Fury ... Bradley ... Sieg... and myself. That sure isn't much."
"Fury is cute in a way... I guess, but you see my point, Sir. It is not that you aren't sexy it is just that you are the only one worth noticing against a band of blonds. The odds are against you."
At these words, Roy straightened while a determined look descended upon his admittedly handsome features. All traces of the desperate drunk man vanished and in his stead, stood –or actually sat, but you get my point- the Flame Alchemist in all his glory. Breda was almost sad to see the game end but, alas, he would need his leader functional sooner or later and cheering Mustang had been his goal after all.
"You are right, Heymans! It is obvious that this is a case of discrimination here. I am hot! I am an amazing being unfairly thrown to the lions by an unscrupulous production. It is also the fault of Hughes and Greed. If they haven't been so bitchy and demanding, I wouldn't find myself alone to defend the ship..."
The tirade could probably have gone on for a while if a not so discreet cough hadn't broken the Colonel's momentum. The two soldiers turned to the door to see who had the galls to interrupt them. In the threshold, stood a young man poised with confidence. He had long dark hair tied in a ponytail, chiseled features and gleaming eyes half closed to compliment the dazzling smile that adorned his face. His appearance and clothes were markedly Xingian and he held an aura of power and wealth even behind the affected good-heartedness. He was also terribly handsome.
"I am heartfeltly sorry to incommode you, kind Sirs. I couldn't help but hear your conversation and I thought it was time for me to make my entrance."
The young stranger marked a carefully studied pause and made a grand gesture with his arms like a king dispensing his blessings upon a crowd. The red-haired soldier had to quell the urge to stand and bow for no apparent reason. A rapid glance to the Colonel suggested it would be a bad idea as the man looked annoyed by the visitor who had so rudely intrude upon them.
"I am Ling, I will work with you lot from now on. I was chosen to act the Xingian Prince who, as you may know, was an only manga character as of now. I am pleased to meet you and I am sure we will do wonders together."
The last words were uttered while looking solely at Roy, eyes now wide open and shining with malice. Mustang appeared stunned for all of two breaths before his face took on a calculating frown. Soon, a blinding smile crept on his lips. Then, he stood and walked towards Ling opening his arms wide in welcome.
"Prince Ling it is an honor to count you amongst us. We will no doubt work greatly together. If I may say so, I think you have really luscious hair."
"You may, you may, Colonel. I am told it is really soft as well but yours is as magnificent as mine. You could be Xingian yourself, you have this kind of dark and delicate beauty that my people have."
"My, but thank you my friend. I am grateful that someone else is able to appreciate the greatness of my looks. We both are such spicy things, nothing to compare with those dull blonds that seem to attract all the attention nowadays."
"I second that. We should demand to be put on display on satin sheets for the world to wallowed in our splendor."
"We sure would be a sight to behold, both of us naked and entwined on crimson satin. You seem to read my mind. What indeed could be better than one spicy thing if not two spicy things writhing in unison."
The two men were now facing each other, less than three feet apart, holding hands and both harboring the contented expression of the cat that got the cream. Breda stared dismayed. He idly wondered if it would be worth telling them that the show had a PG rating and as such nudity was totally out of the question. They were still patting themselves on the back and appeared to have forgotten all about him. Seizing the occasion, the red-haired beat a hasty retreat, barely remembering to grab his wallet on his way out.
Once in the corridor, he leaned briefly on the wall and let out a relieved sigh. All in all, he had it easier than he first feared even if he was still glad to have made good on his escape. He was still hearing their voices through the open door and had a violent shudder when they began to talk about what they liked to do to the Fullmetal Alchemist in retaliation for the favoritism the production bathed the blonds of the cast in. He guessed he should warn the kid than thought better of it. Edward in full rant mode was even worse than the Colonel and he had had his dose of whiny people for a long time to come.
There was a loud exclamation that sounded like: "We shall prevail!" and Heymans shrugged. Actors were really crazy people and he considered momentarily a change of career. He pondered for a while then shook himself and walked away. It was a crazy job yes but where else would he have so much fun?
Afterwords: I know the misconceptions are a little confusing here. Originally I wanted to defeat the purpose of the blond jokes and mess it up with the all favorite "Men prefer blonds" from the movie with the delicious Marilyn. I sort of went astray after that so bear with me. I went with the false assumption that all characters are hot and tried to prove they weren't -especially the acclaimed Roy- to an extent.
