The Frog Prince.
It was ridiculous, really.
Havoc looked down and stared at the green-coloured frock that he had donned on. He tried to comfort himself that at least the green was a cheerful and soothing colour although the zip behind the costume bit angrily into his back. He clumsily picked up the last ensemble of the costume and pulled it over his head.
"Do I look like a frog now?" Havoc wobbled forward in the sponge-filled webbed-feet and tried not to trip and fall onto his face. He grimaced a little at the itch in his mouth and thought of the endurance he had to undergo for one whole hour without his nicotine fix.
"Yes of course! My princely frog! Look how stately and handsome I am!" Mustang flung out his right arm and gave his wig of blond curls a shake as he admired himself in the mirror.
"An ugly, mutant frog," Breda added while he adjusted his bow-tie for the twelfth time and sighed; Why did he had to be a footman?
Havoc groaned and tried to pick up the gold cardboard-made crown with his webbed fingers, "How am I supposed to turn into a prince later?"
The Colonel turned around and smiled, "I'll create some fog with my fantastical alchemy skills, don't worry! Just step out from your costume and throw everything to Falman!"
Falman silently nodded his head while Fuery ran a comb through his hair, "Where's First Lieutenant?"
"I think the orphanage's helpers are doing something to her hair..." Falman mumbled while he shut his eyes for some rest.
"I wonder if Hawkeye is now threatening them with her pistol! Ah ha ha ha!" Mustang let out a clown-like laugh while he checked himself in the mirror for the ninety-sixth time and adjusted his gaudy and overtly-bright frock again, "Havoc! Remember not to address me as 'Colonel' since I'm going to be the King and love rival later!"
Through the narrow slits that were not very well-placed in front of his eyes, a perplexed Havoc thought he saw a dash of seriousness in the Colonel's poker face. So he tried to smile it off (even though no one could see but it was already a reflex reaction) and placed the gold paper crown somewhere above the big, lofty head, "Yes Sir!"
The skit was going well, judging from the children's ear-piercing, shrilly laughter. Havoc let out a defeated sigh as he tried not to squirm in his small wooden stool while the Colonel continued in spouting a chain of nonsense that was not in their amended script (which was already expected, anyway). He was surprised that the children hadn't shouted or protested to the changes that they had made to the original fairy tale since he had always thought that the little ones were nothing but devils with full of Right and Wrong in their heads. Instead, they were sitting in rapt attention (especially to the Colonel's amusing and flashy expressions) to their performance and none showed any inclination to walk away nor displeasure shown on their red, shining faces (Was it from too much tear-streaked laughter or the harsh, cold winter? He ponders).
Still, Havoc did not understand why the Colonel suddenly volunteered out at the Amestris military-orphanage. He hoped that this would be the first and last time, since he had made them rehearse for this play umpteenth times whenever he could gather everyone in his big office. He suspected Fury was the only one who was genuinely happy with this arrangement (since people who like animals would like children too) and when he asked Hawkeye, she merely shrugged her shoulders and gave no clue as to whether she had an answer or not.
A bead of perspiration rolled down the side of his face and Havoc took a long, deep breath; it was rather hard to breathe inside the insufferable costume which was also making his skin prickly and itchy all over.
"Damnit," he cussed softly and wondered when the Colonel would be finished with his seemingly never-ending speech. Havoc was dying to get out from this costume, wash his face and get some fresh air from outside with a cigarette -
All thoughts of ice-cold winter air and the taste of newly burnt cigarette were lost to the breeze that seemed to accompany the princess's billowing gown as she strode out boldly and defiantly onto the center-stage. Havoc thought he could not breathe when he saw her exposed back (her skin so fair and smooth) and the way the skirt cinched at her waist (so tight and small). When Hawkeye turned around and looked in his direction, two things flashed across his mind instantly.
First was that he needed to cough in order to get his lungs to work (which he did, discreetly), and second was that he never realized that his First Lieutenant was that pretty. Sure he had deep admiration and fondness for her professionalism and capability as a first-ranked sniper and superior, but never had he seen her as a beauty.
The meaning behind the word 'beautiful' would no longer be the same in his dictionary anymore.
Her blond hair was pulled back tightly into a high ponytail (his guess was that there weren't any pretty hair accessories at the orphanage) which accentuated her small, oval face. Her gown was a deep, plum colour (which was a little faded, yet, she continue to shine) and her lips were of a shade that he had never seen her in before. Hawkeye was always in her blue military uniform and boots and guns, and Havoc was entranced.
"Father! I will never marry this ugly frog!" Hawkeye took on a look of disgust while Mustang put on a mock frown and shook his head.
There was a pause of awkward silence, and Breda stepped hard on his webbed feet and whispered, "Your turn!"
Havoc sat upright with a start and shouted, "Pray my fair lady, if you would just give me a chaste kiss, I would depart from here and never return if you wish me to!"
Her golden eyes rounded a little at his tone (since it was usually languid and lazy) and Mustang (the King) followed up, "Yes my dear daughter. Do what the princely frog says!"
Hawkeye pursed her lips a little (Havoc thought they looked utterly sensual), paused for a while (while the children whispered excitedly among themselves, "She's really going to kiss the frog!"), made her way to him carefully in measured, calculating steps, bent down and kissed the top of his frog's head (and his lips parted at the unobstructed view of her tempting cleavage).
Before he could get a grip on himself, (he heard several familiar snaps of the finger and the feigned 'Oh!' from her) Breda somewhat ripped and pulled the costume out from him, Falman somehow got him to wear a smart, black coat while Fury tidied his untidy hair and adjusted the tie-bow under his chin. Then as the smoke thinned out, Havoc thought that angels must look somewhat like Hawkeye as she stood a short distance away before him with an amused smile curling into her rosy cheeks. So he did what he had to do.
He slowly walked to his princess, bowed before her, took her small hand (which carried the same pistol as him) and asked in his most gentlemanly and princely way, "My fair princess! You have broken the curse that was laid on me! Do you still want me to leave this castle?"
Hawkeye was stunned at the sudden question; this was not in the script nor rehearsed at all.
"Er, yes -, no. I mean, no! I am glad that I am of help," she let out a shy smile at her prince whose hand didn't let go of hers.
Mustang was shocked and speechless when Havoc daringly and wordlessly kissed his First Lieutenant on the lips. Fury, Breda and Falman gasped audibly while the little ones jumped up from their coloured, wooden chairs in excitement and cheered.
"They kissed! They kissed! The Prince kissed the Princess!"
Havoc pulled away from the forbidden kiss smugly and ignored the glares that the Colonel was giving.