"Olivier! We want to try the melodies now. Olivier, where are- Captain Buccaneer?" Amue stopped short upon seeing the bear of a man standing in the ballroom. He turned around and did a double take, as everyone did when they saw her for the first time.

"What are you doing here?" She remembered him from the pictures in the paper and had caught fleeting glimpses of him when the troops had been stashed in the cellar, but had never actually met the man.

"Uh, I was just looking for the general." He swallowed his momentary shock at Amue's appearance and cleared his throat. He'd heard the stories about the two big Armstrong girls, but hadn't believed them to be true. Now he thought they didn't do justice. "Fuhrer Grumman sent me here to act as her bodyguard. I did knock on the door; your butler recognized me and let me in."

"You're her bodyguard?" Amue asked, puzzled. "What for? Is she going somewhere dangerous?" She hoped not. Olivier hadn't even been there long.

"Nah, it's just a matter of protecting a high-ranked officer. Ya know, since she's pregnant and all. In fact, she was just here, but she left."

Amue groaned. "I wish she wouldn't do that. We need her to practice with us."

"Practice for what?" Buccaneer asked.

"Ah, Captain! We certainly weren't expecting to see you here." And in flounced Alex, sans shirt and sparkles galore. If he hadn't been a major, Buccaneer would have rolled his eyes. Did he really have to do that all the time?

"Actually, I'll be in Central for quite some time," he replied, frowning. It was so strange having to look up at someone instead of down. That was the other reason he wasn't a big fan of Alex, although his older sister almost dwarfed him. How in the world Olivier ended up the size she was, he would never know.

"Splendid! Why don't you join us for lunch? If Olivier's run off somewhere, we can't practice anyway."

"Thanks sir, but that's okay. I'm not all that-"

"Excellent! I'll tell Mother and Father we have a guest," Amue dashed off, leaving Buccaneer standing there awkwardly with a shirtless man.

"She doesn't need to do that, I was just-"

"Oh, it's such an honor to share a good meal with one of my sister's loyal soldiers! You men are so brave!" And before Buccaneer could run, Alex had him in a crushing hug, complete with tears of joy. Buccaneer tensed and growled, trying to pull away. Of all the Armstrong siblings, why did the man have to be the one with the hug fetish? It'd be nice if my Queen gave out hugs like this. He smiled a little at the thought. He would gladly take a crushing hug from her any day.

"Thanks Major. You can let go now." Buccaneer barely managed to keep a respectful tone. Not only were Alex's hugs extremely suffocating, but being hugged by another guy was just weird. He wasn't a homophobe by any means, but personally the thought of touching another man grossed him out.

"Allow me to escort you to our dining room!" Buccaneer was thankful he couldn't feel Alex's hand as he grabbed his right arm and yanked him down the corridor.

In the end, Buccaneer had to admit he was glad he'd stuck around the mansion. He hadn't tasted food like this in years, and he'd forgotten good coffee even existed. The best part about the food was that there was so much of it. Usually he had to eat in a hurry due to his strict work schedule and could never get enough. This was the first time since he could remember that he didn't have to rush and was actually full afterwards. He'd had a bit of trouble figuring out the additional cutlery, but the Armstrongs had been nice about it and kindly explained it to him. He guessed they were used to people not eating like them.

After lunch was over, he stood up, thanked them, and told them he needed to get to his apartment to finish unpacking. After that the family went their separate ways and only Catherine was left. She'd been making goo-goo eyes at him all through the meal, which he'd ignored. Granted it was a nice change to have a girl interested in him instead of the other way around and she was certainly attractive, but there was at least a ten-year age difference between them and in his mind that made her too young for him. Besides that, she was too dainty looking, and judging from what little he'd learned about her in this short timespan, they didn't appear to have much in common anyway.

"I could help you unpack," she offered, bouncing up and down a bit. "I'm great at heavy lifting. Remember how I picked up the piano when I came down to eat? Even Olivier can't do that."

He made a face. The way she'd said Olivier's name made her sound like her sister was the devil incarnate. "No thanks, I'll be fine. I didn't bring a lot of stuff with me anyway." He moved toward the door, hoping she'd take the hint and go away.

"You must hate working for her," Catherine said, her eyes glistening with sympathy. "She's so mean and heartless. I keep telling her to be nicer to you poor soldiers, but she refuses. She's just determined to make all of you suffer. I don't know how you stand it."

That was doubtful, considering Buccaneer knew Olivier seldom spoke to her family. "It's not that bad," he told her. "I've been in the military a long time so I've had a bunch of commanding officers, and she's the best out of all of them. To be honest, I don't think I've ever met anyone so smart and strong."

"She's not as strong as I am," Catherine replied quickly, her voice rising. "I could beat her in a fight no problem. And she's not all that smart either. I remember one time when she was in school, she got a B on a test."

Buccaneer laughed. "That's still better than me. I hated school, I was lucky if I got D's."

"Maybe that's because you were too busy being handsome," Catherine sighed. "What kind of girls did you like?"

Buccaneer had almost made it out the door when her last question stopped him. He didn't like where this conversation was going. Maybe he could steer her away from him gently by telling the truth.

"I guess girls like your sister. Smart, tough, independent, attractive-"

"She's NOT attractive!" He almost jumped; Catherine's tone was just under a shout. "She's not pretty at all! Her lips make her look like a blowfish, her hair is always greasy and in her face, her skin is too pale, her nose is too long, her voice is too low, she's always glaring at people, and she's fat too!"

"What are you talking about?" Buccaneer almost jumped back. Was this girl bipolar or something? She'd gone from sweet and flirty to screaming banshee in seconds. "She's perfectly fine. She's not fat. Maybe she's not as skinny as you, but that's only because of the difference in your body types. And I like her lips and hair." And her chest. Especially her chest. And pretty much everything else about her.

"But why?" Catherine asked, reverting to her "sweet and innocent" mode again. "I think Olivier is just so-"

"Yes?" They both jumped at the icy voice from the corner. Olivier stood there, staring them down. "I'm just so what?"

Catherine's eyelashes fluttered. "You're just so strict. With your soldiers, I mean. Poor Buccaneer, he told me he's been under your command twenty years. I don't know how he's still standing."

"Maybe because he's not a pathetic weakling like you."

"Oh, I'm not a weakling, Ollie-Em. If I wanted to, I could pick you up and throw you all the way across this room." Her tone was as gentle as ever, but Buccaneer swore he saw flames in both sisters' eyes. The way they looked at each other with such disgust was unnerving. Is something going on between them? He'd gathered that they weren't much alike, but he thought they'd at least be civil. Still, you never knew with Olivier.

Olivier reached behind her back and drew her sword. "I swear if you call me that one more time, you'll find yourself at the end of this blade." Buccaneer had a mind to tell Catherine her sister wasn't kidding; he'd seen her slice up new recruits many times for much smaller offenses, but he had a feeling if Olivier acted the same at home as she did at Briggs, her family probably already knew what she was capable of.

Catherine, however, seemed unfazed. "You wouldn't cut up our only soprano before the Ishval concert, would you?"

"That concert is not going to happen."

"What concert?" Buccaneer asked, puzzled.

Catherine turned back to him, all puppy-eyed again. "Our family wants to have a concert where we would all sing as a family to raise money for Ishval, but Olivier doesn't want us to. She's too busy thinking about her reputation to care about the poor people out in the desert."

"That is a lie and you know it!" Olivier shouted. "I merely said I didn't want to participate in the concert, not that I was against having it. The rest of you can do whatever you wish."

"You mean you're not going to sing with your family? But you're so good at it," Buccaneer said. "I'd pay plenty of money to see you onstage." He grinned. "And I bet the men would too."

"Oh, so you've heard her singing, have you?" Josephine cut in from the hallway and she quietly moved into the dining room. Buccaneer gawked. How on earth was a woman that tall? "She is quite talented, isn't she?"

"Mother, please stay out of this," Olivier said, trying to keep her tone calm and failing.

Josephine finger-combed her hair, which was pulled back into a tight bun, looking disinterested. "I'm not interfering in your affairs dear, I'm just agreeing with the captain. He's become a wonderful friend of the family."

He wanted to point out that he'd only just met them, but still Buccaneer smiled. Not many people considered him a friend.

"Oh, that's just perfect," Olivier snapped. "But even so, trying to turn him against me isn't going to work, Catherine. I'm not performing and that's final."

"Why not? You seemed like you were enjoying yourself," Buccaneer pointed out. He hoped he could sway her even if her family couldn't. He could just imagine watching his queen onstage, under spotlights and dressed up. That would be something…

"I have a reputation to uphold and singing and dancing are silly activities."

"If that's true, then why did Mustang and I just see you doing both of them?"

"Mustang?" Josephine and Catherine asked. "Roy Mustang was here?" Olivier glowered at Buccaneer.

"Just go back to Briggs! You're making an annoying situation worse. I don't need you here so you might as well leave."

Buccaneer forced himself to keep his expression from changing. That hurt way more than it should have. "I'm not allowed to. Fuhrer's orders. We're stuck with each other whether we like it or not. Personally I don't mind a little break, despite the fact that I hate Central City and their pathetic excuses for soldiers."

"They're not pathetic!" Catherine protested. "Big Brother is strong! He's even stronger than you!" She glared and moved away from Buccaneer, much to his relief.

"Come now Catherine, I'm sure he wasn't including Alex in that description," Josephine said, to Buccaneer's relief. The major wasn't his favorite person, but he couldn't deny the man had been a valuable asset in the battle against the homunculi. "In fact, I'd like you to come with me now. It's almost time for your piano lesson."

"Of course Mother. It was so nice to meet you, Buccaneer!" The minute Josephine's back was turned, Catherine whirled around and gave her sister a very strong finger gesture, who returned it with equal force. Both soldiers were happy when the doors closed behind her.

Buccaneer turned back to Olivier. "In all seriousness, I think you should do it. You're infamous all over the country, much more so than they are. I get the feeling they've put a lot of effort into this and it'll let them down if you say no." When she remained stoic, he said, "I think this could give the Ishvalans more money than they've ever dreamed of. And say what you will, but I think that for all you belittle singing and dancing, you really do enjoy them."

Olivier crossed her arms over her chest and thought about that for a moment. It had been fun. Actually, it had been the most fun she'd had in a long time. But still, she'd only end up embarrassing herself and losing the respect she'd worked so hard to gain.

"You should know, Olivier-" she gave him a look. "Fine. Miss Armstrong. You should know that, well, they really do need money right now. In fact, I talked to Major Miles earlier this morning and he said their funding has been cut in half thanks to the racist pantywaists in the senior staff. Apparently Grumman hasn't managed to get rid of them yet."

"The concert could still bring in plenty of money without me. I don't see why you're so eager to take my family's side."

He grinned. "Why do you think? Like I said, I would love to see you onstage. I bet Mustang would come. And his crew. And maybe we could even get Miles over here. Come on, you've got a gift. You could use it for the greater good."

"I'm not exactly in a right mind to do good deeds right now, considering my latest good deed has taken away most of the things I enjoy in life," she said, frowning at her stomach. When she'd looked in the mirror this morning while dressing, she could have sworn she'd seen a tiny bump. It could have been her imagination or she could have just put on some weight from not exercising, but still it had been disturbing. Olivier was not ready to be showing yet.

"All right, here's my final plea. If you do the concert with your family, I'll do all the paperwork for a week when we get back."

Olivier tilted her head. "Tch. You'll have to do better than that."

He expected this. "Fine. Two weeks."

"Make it a month."

"Aw, come on!" Paperwork was their most hated enemy, even more so than Drachman spies. Neither of them had the desire, the attention span, or the ability to focus and sit still. Well Olivier did, but she still hated the tediousness of it. She never complained, but it was easy enough to tell by the fact that on the days where she didn't have to do any, she was always in a much better mood and was a smidge more tolerant.

"A month. Take it or leave it."

He growled. "Fine. A month."

"That's in addition to everything else you would have to do normally."

"You're really gonna make me work for this, aren't you?"

"You have to ask?"

"Fine, fine. A month of all the paperwork for you and me, plus everything else I would normally do." She smiled and his heart sank. "And let me guess, you're going to have me scraping icicles with the new recruits the first night back, aren't you?"

She smirked. "You do know me well." Then she rolled her eyes. "I suppose, if it will get everyone off my back and give me a month free of paperwork, I'll sing one or two songs. But only one or two!"

Buccaneer's toothy smile took up his entire face. "I can't wait."