Olivier was terribly bored. You couldn't walk anywhere in Central and public transportation was so scarce it was practically nonexistent. She got out as much as she could, but her father and Catherine had a tendency to monopolize the drivers and Alex had to take a car to work every day. Which left Olivier stuck at home most days and it was making her stir crazy. Her mother nagged about everything under the sun, from leaving doors open to leaving lights on to not eating the right way to wearing the wrong clothes. It was making her angry and she was taking that out on her family and she hated herself for it because they were just being themselves.

Ergo, she was already not in the best of moods when Alex approached her yet again about practicing for the concert and choosing songs. The morning sickness had been vicious that day, and she was starting to feel heartburn as well.

"I was thinking that we could try a duet," he offered. "It's been years since we've done so, but our voices sound magnificent together!"

"I wasn't planning on anything special," Olivier said, glowering at him from her bed. After she had laid it into him about knocking first, Alex developed this irritating habit of knocking and then barging in without waiting for her to say whether it was all right for him to enter. There was barely a difference. "I'm just doing a few Ishvalan songs with the five of us." Olivier found comfort in Ishvalan music because it was meant to be sung collectively by a large group, and she hoped her voice would get lost in the crowd, making it harder for people to realize just how good she really was.

"But Sister, I found the perfect song for us. We wouldn't even have to venture out of our ranges. Remember the song titled "Dangerous Game" from that musical we saw as children?"

"What?" Olivier bolted up. "Alex, the woman in that song has to dress up like a prostitute, get felt up by a murderer who acts as though he's in love with her, and pretend she likes it."

"That's called acting, Sister." Alex sparkled. "I admit it's written more for tenors, but I've been practicing and I don't see any trouble-"

"No."

"But why-"

"No."

"Just give-"

"No. No. No." She remembered the choreography for that song all too well. The thought of Alex- or anyone really- running his hands down her body like that, even though it was only pretending, made her skin crawl.

Alex threw up his hands in the air and shook his head. "I suppose it was worth a try." He started to head for the door when the phone rang. "I'll get it!" He shouted and dashed to the spare room, which made the house shake a little bit, and grabbed the phone off the wall. Normally it was the servants' job to answer the phone, but apparently something had been going on at Central Command involving the hire of new subordinates to replace Maria Ross and Denny Brosch (who were currently on their honeymoon) that had people calling Alex left and right even when he wasn't working, so he spared them the trouble. "Armstrong residence?" He relaxed a bit. "Ah, hello Captain Buccaneer."

Olivier stiffened. She hadn't spoken to Buccaneer since the incident at the pool, which she was still pissed about. Every time she thought about it, her anger was freshly boiled.

"No, Olivier hasn't gone anywhere. Yes, we'll keep you posted as to her whereabouts." Olivier rolled her eyes. "Hmm? Pardon me, but what was that about Major Miles?"

Olivier stood up. Why would Buccaneer be talking about Miles? Unless…she ran across the hall. "Let me talk to him, Alex!"

"Sister, please, I'm on the phone!" Alex pushed her away. "I'll gladly hand it over when I'm finished."

Olivier started to argue, then had a better idea. She turned around and sprinted down the stairs. This place had telephones everywhere and they were all on the same line. She moved down one hallway, then another, until she found the communications room (it was where the radio and similar pieces of technology were kept) and grabbed the receiver off the hook.

"Yeah, when I told him about it, the major said he wouldn't miss this concert for anything. In fact, he's even bringing a couple of our closer subordinates from Briggs with him. At this rate it's almost like the whole fort will be there to hear General Armstrong sing." The smugness in Buccaneer's voice was not lost on Olivier, but before she could think of something sharp to reply with, Alex spoke.

"Indeed, Captain! But come now, are you sure you can't perform with us? The more the merrier, especially since it seems you and Olivier are stuck with each other anyway."

Olivier's eyes widened as she heard what sounded like a shudder from Buccaneer. "Oh no way, Major. Not me. I can't sing to save my life, and I'm so ungraceful my dancing's just as bad." He laughed a little. "I mean come on, how can you dance with automail? If it were me on stage in front of hundreds of people, I think I'd die of embarrassment."

A smile grew on Olivier's face. It was all she could do to keep from laughing. This was just too perfect.

"Ah, yes, perfectly understandable," Alex assured him. "Regardless we look forward to your arrival as well as that of Major Miles and the rest. This concert is looking more and more promising everyday. Why, I believe my mother is just now sending out the invitations-"

Olivier dropped the phone and bolted down the hall.

"Mother!" She called, sprinting as fast as she could toward the entrance of the mansion. "Mother!"

"Whoa, slow down, my girl!" Philip bellowed after her from his office. He poked his head into the hallway. "Where on earth are you off to in such a hurry?"

"I can't talk now, Father. Where's Mother? I need to find her right away, it's important."

"Last I heard, she just finished up the invitations and handed them off to one of the errand boys to mail-"

"Where is this errand boy?"

"Er, he's probably just left- wait!" But Olivier had already taken off. Her feet pounded down the stairs as fast as they would go. She was careful to avoid being spotted by Alex in the foyer, then burst through the doors to the mansion. A young man carrying a large box was just passing the fountain in their front yard.

"Wait! Stop!" Olivier yelled, sprinting after him. This was the most activity she'd done in over a month, and while it probably wasn't good for her, it felt great. The feeling of her heart slamming hard against her chest and her hair flying around her face was something she'd missed. She was breathing heavily as she began to catch up to the man, who had halted in puzzlement.

"Madame Olivier! What's wrong, ma'am?" he asked, concerned.

Olivier hunched over and held up her index finger, indicating she needed a moment to catch her breath. She nodded to the box. "Are those the invitations for the concert?"

"Yes, ma'am. I was just on my way to mail them."

"Don't." Olivier held out her arms. "Give them to me."

He hesitated. "Ma'am-"

"Don't worry, I just need to correct them. My mother doesn't know this, but I realized that there was a mistake made on the invitations, and I need to fix it right away. After that's done, I promise I'll get them back to you."

"A mistake, ma'am?"

"Yes. She put the wrong date on them." Olivier hoped this man hadn't seen the invitations before they'd been put into the box, but her mother tended to work with mostly female servants for this type of thing. She gave him a warning look. "I need them back at once."

"I understand, ma'am. It's just- Lady Armstrong gave me strict orders not to let this box out of my sight until I'd gotten it to the post-"

"Do you value your balls?"

"My what?" He seemed a little flustered. Must be new to the job.

"Balls. Boys. Testicles. Whatever you call them, they won't be attached to you for very long if you don't give me that box."

He must have seen the glint in her eyes, because he set the box down and backed off without a word. Olivier snatched it up, then grunted. It was heavier than she expected. "How many of these things are in here?"

"About five hundred, ma'am."

"Wha- five hundred?" Olivier gaped. She shook her head, recovering swiftly. Whatever. She could have words with her family about that later. Right now she had something to do. She left the man standing there awkwardly and lugged the box toward the side of the house. There was a little-used entrance that hardly anyone used, which was good for when she wanted to get into the house without being seen. She slipped through that door, which opened into an area that was more or less used for storage, and headed for the letter-writing room.

Yes. The letter-writing room. Her parents really did have way more rooms in this place than they knew what to do with.

Olivier ducked into the room, which was bare save for a desk, a chair, some writing supplies and some stationery, and set the box down on top of the desk. She locked the door and dropped into the chair, tearing the box open savagely. It didn't matter; she'd buy another box if she had to. She grabbed a handful of envelopes, starting with the ones that would be sent to her Briggs men, and set to work. Olivier would have to re-do, re-address, and re-seal them herself, but the end result would be worth it. And besides, she only planned on doing that for the people she knew would actually come; the rest wouldn't miss their invitations. She highly doubted her parents even knew five hundred people, and there were certain members of her family that, if it were up to Olivier, wouldn't even be allowed to set foot into the country, much less her own home.

You are cordially invited to attend a charity benefit concert supporting the aid of Ishval. This concert will feature the Armstrong family heirs, better known as the Armstrong Five.

Saturday August 4, 1916 at 7pm.

Armstrong Mansion, Central City, Central, Amestris.

General Admission $30

All proceeds shall go toward aiding the people of Ishval.

Olivier could barely contain her malicious excitement as she snatched up a pen and scribbled at the bottom of each invitation,

Includes a musical performance by Fort Briggs captain Angel Q. Buccaneer.