Leadership Material (A Study Of Roy Mustang)
Taisa.
He doesn't like being bored, doesn't like wasting time when he could be carving out his next step to absolute dominion over the pathetic army. But he's bored anyway, kicking his booted feet up on the heavy desk and absently nudging a stack of papers with the polished black toe, stuck by a sudden sense of pure, unalloyed ennui.
It comes more and more often these days, when Fullmetal isn't around to annoy. But then, he refuses to admit to himself that Fullmetal anchors his days, now.
Taisa, your coffee.
She stands by his elbow as he unseeingly surveys his petty paper domain, scented with the aromatic fragrance of her signature brew. And so she has stood for longer than he cares to remember, always silently by his side.
He knows he should be grateful, but somehow he's past that. They're past that. There is no need for open admissions or exhibitions of loyalty; her attendance on him is like a force of nature- elemental. Guaranteed.
Taisa, stop slacking off.
Insouciant, as always, he unfolds and rearranges himself properly, taking the cup she offers him. Thanks. She eyes him coolly for a moment, puts the files down and points commandingly at the stacks of unfinished work. No words needed- if she said it everyday, there would be enough spit to fill a water tank- so she points and he understands that, as always, she wants him to get things done ASAP.
Whatever was it about paperwork that makes people into leadership material? He muses this each day, with each paper that passes through his hands that he commits to memory, with every sand of his precious time tick- tick-ticking through an hourglass with far too big a waist.
Hawkeye-
She halts, clear eyes questioning. Taisa?
-What would you do if I quit? What would you do if I was executed? What would you do if you had to choose between my life and yours? How long are you prepared to wait til I become Generalissimo?-
...nothing...
He can't say it. For all the things left unsaid between them, this is not best left unsaid, but simply unsayable. Maybe it's an aversion to the truth, or perhaps he puts too much stock by Hawkeye's tried-and-true loyalty, but he keeps closing his mouth on the fateful questions.
And, as Hawkeye leaves, shutting the office door decorously behind her, he buries his focus in the numbing piles of undone work, wondering when he will ever be more than just 'leadership material'. Perhaps someday, someday...
...when there are no longer questions to be answered...
----
Nooooo! Mustang-taisa, forgive mee! (wails) I didn't mean for you to be so angsty... I wanted a comedy piece, but the women just wouldn't show! So... bear with me...
Next up: Hawkeye, of course!
Roy: (staring at author) I could just snap my fingers and-
Wait! No! My LAPTOP!
Roy: And get rid of all the paperwork, of course. Alchemy's got to be good for something.
Anyway... deviated a bit from the style of the other drabbles, comments anyone?