Three months since the day Everything Got Royally Effed Up (I really should stop calling it that, lest it slip out at the next press conference), Alphonse Elric was released from the hospital.
My team had insisted on a celebration of some sorts, and had proceeded to redecorate the everlasting hell out of my office. Fuery had set up a state-of the art surround sound system. Falman was helping Havoc in, who was still a bit unsteady without a cane but had brought enough refreshments to supply the entire Briggs fortress for a week. This was good, for Breda had come with nothing but an empty stomach and growing bets on how long I could restrain myself from attempting to set them all on fire. Armstrong had set up lavish streamers and inflated enough balloons that his voice cracked all through his proclamations of how 'surprise parties had been passed down the Armstrong line for generations'. Riza was last to arrive, for she had somehow managed to commandeer a litter of kittens.
"What did you get Alphonse, sir?" Fuery inquired as we waited for the boys to arrive. (Ed was supposed to come first, telling Al to meet him after a 'boring-ass' meeting with me.)
Shit.
"Well, seeing as the steel polish I ordered for Christmas no longer applies—" I could feel Riza shooting me a dirty look "—I'll have to say a joint gift with the First Lieutenant."
Breda smirked and elbowed Havoc. Hawkeye and I had never officially announced anything, and for all intents and purposes our public relations hadn't changed, but ever since the day of the Failed Yet Secretly Successful Military Coup—what the soldiers who were in on the whole thing had taken to calling it—it had apparently been 'completely obvious' that we were a couple. Within a week, the long-running pool on what she and I would name our first child had grown to include nearly the entire base. (While 'Roy Jr.' had a nice ring to it, I privately thought 'Maes' would be more fitting.)
Speaking of which, Gracia had also dropped by earlier with a plate full of steaming quiche, apparently something that Alphonse had been dreaming about 'since forever'. Today would be the first occasion he would have to finally taste it, as his abused digestive system hadn't been allowed to come within a five-foot pole of it until now. The Rockbell girl's apple pie, also on the 'since forever' list, would be delivered later in the afternoon when its maker's train arrived from Rush Valley.
(I had never tasted that pie, but the heavenly quiche was already threatening to make my mouth water. And so with great effort and heroic willpower, I had seated myself as far away as was possible from it. Dignified Fuhrer-elects do not drool.)
Armstrong looked at me disapprovingly. "Surely you don't mean to say that you have no present for the lad? Such a disappointment! After all these young men have endured, and you don't have the heart to provide them with something to ease their sufferings? I am greatly saddened—"
"Alright, settle down, Major." Using my best 'calm-down-Fullmetal' voice, I managed to cut him off before he started weeping.
Tugging off a few medals I didn't care to remember the significance of, I clapped my hands. After a brief flash of light, a hastily transmuted kitty collar lay on my desk.
"Happy? Now, which one are we giving to him, lieutenant?"
She opened her mouth to answer when a knock sounded on the door.
"Elric?" I barked.
"Yes?" Was it my imagination, or did Ed sound…cheerful?
"Your brother isn't here yet, but you're cutting it close. Come on in—" the door opened slowly—"which one do you think Alphonse would like best?" I gestured lazily to the box of mews in the center of the room while I prepared to engrave the collar. There was silence.
"What, did Elric finally chop off his hippie braid? About time, too, I kept getting him confused with that mechanic of his," I remarked, finally looking up. One Elric was leaning heavily on his crutch and staring in delight at the balls of soulless fluff, while uneven footsteps came pelting down the hallway as the other Elric burst into the room.
(Well, at least I had been partially right. Alphonse's cropped hair was certainly an improvement on the lank 'n' straggly look he had been sporting for the past few months.)
"Sorry I'm late, idiots at the pet store messed up my order—oh, crap, you're already here, Al? Why'd you let him in, Mustang?"
Fingers itching for a snap, I snarled. Breda looked at the clock and snickered, motioning at Fuery to pay up. "Elric—"
"Yes?" Al squeaked.
"What?" Ed whined. "Aw—come on! I already got him the collar, you copy-cat! Get Al something else!"
(The resulting carnage made Heymans a very wealthy man indeed, although one sergeant simultaneously lost his meal funds for the next two months. Luckily for our guest of honor, no kittens were harmed in the explosion. Luckily for me, neither was the quiche.)
A/N: This one deals with more of the team, and as I wasn't 100% sure what their promotions would be, I left their titles the same as they were throughout the series. Hope it didn't bother anyone.
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