Schemes
"No, no, no. We can't do that that way, it's much too obvious. We'd get caught and court-martialed!"
"Right, right…well, what do you suggest we do then, newbie?"
"Well…if we got Lieutenant Hawkeye in on this—"
"Yeah right, there's no way she'd be on our side. She's all for protocol, and this is most distinctly against Regulation 598, Subs—"
"Yeah, yeah. We all know you swallowed the handbook, Falman. What we don't know is how in the world to pull this sucker off."
"I think, Lieutenant Breda, that I understood what you said. But I'm not exactly sure—it's really hard to catch what you're saying when you've got all that food in your mouth…"
"I enjoy my food, Falman. Leave me alone. Now, what are we going to do about this very large problem? We have to be swift, but it cannot be traceable."
"I still think Lieutenant Hawkeye would be helpful to have on our side."
"She always sides with commands. You know that. Especially when the Boss's concerned…"
"Aahh, jealous much, Havoc?"
"Eat your sandwich and think, Breda."
"Yes, sir! And while I'm at it, why don't I borrow your lighter for a day…"
"You wouldn't!"
"I would."
"This is completely off the point. We still have no solution to our complicated problem. I suggest that we do research on traditional methods to—"
"No."
"Why shouldn't w—"
"No."
"But we could—"
"No."
"Sirs…what if we…" the voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as Fuery laid out his schemes for his superiors.
"That's…original."
"…Boss won't see it coming." It was obvious by the mischievous smile on Havoc's face that he approved.
"I like it—short and sweet. But how will contact him?"
"I have a plan." Fuery looked around the room, checking for spies, before resuming, "All right, sirs, then this is what we'll do: two days from now…"
Later that week...
Roy Mustang was minding his own business, going about his day at the usual pace. He was running ten minutes late for work (as usual), had to go the scenic route to avoid some of his more dutiful fans (as usual), and knew very well that Hawkeye would be tapping her foot and fingering her gun when he got to work half an hour late (as usual).
All in all, it was a perfectly average morning. Roy ran a gloved hand through his hair—nervous habit—and boldly walked into his office, an excuse already on his tongue.
"Hawkeye, I know I'm late, but honestly, did you see the traffic?"
He finished his statement before he realized there was no Hawkeye in the room. Actually, there was no one in the room other than himself.
Wait a second, this wasn't even his office! It was a broom cupboard!
A very small broom cupboard.
Someone was going to pay.
Roy turned to open the door. It was locked. Frustrated, he took a step back, prepared to burn the whole thing down.
His polished military-boots tripped a nearly invisible wire. The string was elaborately connected to various wooden pulleys, one of which, Roy realize a second too late, was the only thing supporting a bucket of water.
A moment later, a very soaked Roy Mustang found himself blinking rivulets of freezing water out of his obsidian eyes. Someone was going to pay dearly as soon as he got out of this closet.
This closet…
…how could he get out?
Without the means for alchemy, Mustang was in a very humiliating, awkward situation, standing in the broom cupboard, dripping water, and waiting for help.
After several hours, and false alarms, Roy heard the most beautiful sound in the world—his subordinates! Coming to rescue him! He almost forgot to be angry about his plight as he eavesdropped on them.
"Lieutenant Havoc, I still don't understand why you want me to look in the broom cupboard."
"The office's a mess, Hawkeye." Even Havoc's whine sounded good to Mustang who was, by now, sick of standing in the closet.
"Well, why can't you get it yourself. I have paperwork to do." Good old Riza, always so dedicated. Now please hurry up and open the door!
"Because, Hawkeye, I don't like spiders."
"You're an arachnophobe?"
"…Something like that." Hold on a second…was Havoc hitting on Riza?
"Okay, Lieutenant, then why don't you explain to me just why the rest of our unit is following us to the broom cupboard." Forget the rest of the unit; why was Havoc—First Lieutenant Jean Havoc—hitting on his Hawkeye?!
"Because, we all want to…help clean?"
"Sure." The sarcasm was evident. Not wanting to argue pointlessly, Riza opened the door to the janitor's closet.
An almost blinding light greeted the Flame Alchemist's waterlogged eyes. Gee, he'd almost forgotten what a fluorescent looked like.
As the entire unit—the Full Metal Alchemist included—burst into laughter (Riza was no exception), Roy glared. Within one morning, he'd lost a perfectly good pair of spark gloves, much of his dignity, some of his claim on Hawkeye, and, most recently, his temper.
"I want to know who turned my office into a closet!" And why you, Havoc, are hitting on your superior officer when you all know she is mine. (He didn't add the last part, of course; Riza was still there.)
More snickering from the men. "Sir," Fuery replied, struggling to contain himself. "Your office is on the other side of the building."
"What?" Roy snapped.
Ed smirked—he thought he'd done a pretty good job rigging it. Roy caught his expression.
"Full Metal! You had something to do with this!"
"Something, yes. Give credit where credit is due, Mustang." Came the smug response. The Full Metal Alchemist was glad the prank had worked out so well. If it hadn't, and the officers had woken him up that early without any point…he would have been pretty angry…
Roy glared at his subordinates, excepting one. The ensemble ignored him for moment, then ran away to do paperwork or find the Philosopher's Stone, respectively.
"Hawkeye…" She certainly was loyal, the only one still here to face probably reprimand. And she was probably the only one not involved in the practical joke.
"Sir?"
Roy smirked; his anger long forgotten now that he'd vented. The jealousy was still there, but in much milder form. "It's just you and me and a broom cupboard…" Roy started, knowing it was in vain (but still hoping a little).
"Sir, request permission to speak freely."
"Granted."
"I think you're all wet." Riza gave him a teasing smile, before herself trotting off to work. Mustang followed soon after.
A/N: yay! another chapter!
I hope you liked it. Please review--they inspire me further!