Ch 3: All's Fair in Love and War

"Uh-huh……..uh-huh…….I'll tell her. Bye." The click of the phone meeting the receiver resounded through the house. "Hey, Marina?"

"Hey, Riza?" I mimicked.

"Don't mock me when I'm giving you valuable information!" Riza teased. "That was Ed. He's coming to pick you up around 6, and he says to wear semi-fancy clothes."

"OK! What time is it now?" I looked quickly at my watch. "Oh my god, it's already 5 o'clock!" I raced up to my room to root around in my closet.

After 40 minutes of sifting through EVERY inch of my room, I found nothing that really matched the description of 'semi-fancy'. "Um, Houston, we have a problem!"

My guardian poked her head into the messy room. "Who's Houston, and what's the problem?"

"No-one, and I don't have anything semi-fancy to wear."

"Well, let's see. I'm sure we could put something together.................."

*Ding dong* The doorbell rang at exactly 6 o'clock. Riza opened the door to find Ed wearing his usual red coat over black shirt and pants. "Marina, Ed's here!" She informed Ed, "She's up in her room; 2nd door to the left."

"Thanks." The alchemist climbed the stairs and sought out my room.

"Hey there!" I spun around in my chair, and ungracefully fell on my rear due to surprise.

"ACK! Eheheh, hi Edward." I picked myself up and dusted myself off. Ed leaned against the doorframe, wouldn't quite look me in the eye, and blushed a bit. "Y-you look really nice." He stated.

I blushed and tucked a few ornery strands of hair behind my right ear. "Thanks. You look……….nice as well?"

We walked out the front door to find a cab patiently waiting for us. The driver seems a bit shady with the hat over his eyes. I thought. "Have fun you two!"

I rolled my eyes. "Bye Riza!"

"Bye Lieutenant Hawkeye!"

Once we got into the cab, Ed informed the driver of our destination: Les Belles Heures. The cab driver suddenly turned around, his hat falling off in the process. "You're taking her THERE?!?!" I cautiously glanced at Ed and sweat-dropped; He had at least three tick marks adorning his temples. "Mustang!!! What the hell are you doing, butting into our date?!" I blushed at the last two words of Ed's indignant query.

"Fullmetal, I'm here to make sure you guys don't do anything inappropriate, OK?" The flame alchemist smiled in a rather reassuring way, or at least, he thought it was. To us in the back seat, however, it was just creepy.

"No, NOT OK!!!" Needless to say, the rest of the car ride was spent in strained silence.

We eventually arrived at Les Belles Heures, and approached the maître d'.

"A table for tw––"

"Three please." The Colonel interjected. Tick marks started to appear around Ed's head.

"I'm sorry Messieurs, this restaurant for couples only. The couple in this group, I assume, is the young lady and the short blond?"

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING A PLANKTON-SIZED FLEA SO SMALL YOU CAN ONLY SEE THROUGH A MICROSCOPE?!?!?!?!?!?!"

My eyes widened in shock as the poor maître d' was bowled over by the sudden increase in noise. That's what happens when Ed's height is questioned? No wonder Al warned me about it! Note to self: Do not, under ANY circumstance, call Ed short.

Ed and I followed the maître d' to a small table, leaving the colonel behind in the waiting area. The maître d proceeded to give us our menus, then left us alone. Opening my menu, my eyes widened for the second time that night. This time, the cause happened to be the prices. "Uh, Ed?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you sure about this restaurant?"

"What's wrong with it? Do you not like it? We can go to another restaurant if you wa–"

"N-no, it's fine! It's just…the prices are a bit on the high side……" I trailed off, as my brain refused to form coherent thoughts, informing me that it was on strike from being used more than was really necessary. Conversation pretty much came to a halt after that; choosing meals is an arduous task that requires concentration.

The flame alchemist was annoyed. He was annoyed because he got left in the dust. He was annoyed because he was left in the dust, and thus couldn't supervise (AKA embarrass) Fullmetal on his date. Then his brain supplied him with an idea. He would call his subordinate Lieutenant Hawkeye, be a "couple", and supervise the shorty that way. Brilliant, Mustang, ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT!! Inner Roy rubbed his hands together and let loose an evil cackle. Outer Roy started to rub his hands together as well, until Inner Roy noticed people staring, and whacked Outer Roy. Outer Roy sighed, flipped his phone open, and called his first lieutenant. Operation 'Embarrass The Shrimp' had begun.

"Hello? Lieutenant Hawkeye? It's Colonel Mustang."

"Sir?" Hawkeye was understandably quite surprised.

"I was wondering if you could meet me at Les Belles Heures as soon as possible."

"…………….Right now sir?"

"If you can, that would be great."

"I'll be right there, sir." Hawkeye had arrived in less than ten minutes, and they had been able to get in the restaurant without any fuss.

Back in Les Belles Heures, we had ordered our food, and were eating. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two suspicious figures watching us from a table close by.

I leaned over the table and whispered, "Hey Ed, don't you think that the people sitting two tables away look familiar?"

Ed briefly glanced at the aforementioned table and whispered back, "Yeah, you're right! Is that Mustang? How'd he get in anyways? Oh wait, I see Hawkeye, never mind." Damn Mustang! He flagged down a random waiter. "Excuse me, my girlfriend doesn't like the lighting over here. Can we move to a different table?"

"Yes, of course Monsieur."

The waiter took us to another section of the restaurant, but Mustang and Hawkeye followed us a bit later. The pattern of moving, having the colonel and lieutenant come after us, Ed getting irate, and moving yet again continued, until I asked the exhausted waiter for a private booth. When we leave, I'm going to make sure we leave him a sizeable tip. The waiter led us to a booth. As his left hand reached for the door handle, his left sleeve rose up his arm a little, and a bit of red made its existence known for a split second. But that split second was long enough for me to ascertain what it was, and the fact that said waiter subconsciously tugged the same sleeve down afterwards didn't hurt either.