Chapter 9

Flynn took a deep breath before pushing open the door to Mustang's office on Monday morning. She had purposely arrived late to avoid walking to work with him. She regretted the decision as everyone looked up, scowling fiercely at her. They weren't angry with her however; they were all upset about information they had just received about a new assignment. She hesitated until Roy waved her over, putting his arm around her shoulders when she stood next to him. Was he even aware of what he had just done? She was only half way listening as he talked, but the word homunculus caught her attention. She had seen that in a lot of the files Hughes' had requested in the recent days before he was killed. Her gut twisted into a tight knot as she listened while Roy laid out the mission that they were about to embark on. Everyone was involved except for her; probably because she was new to his staff. After he was done and everyone dispersed, she followed him back to his desk to talk to him.

"This will be your desk," Mustang announced, jerking his head to his left to indicate the desk right beside his. "You are going to act as my personal assistant. You will do whatever I ask you to do, whenever I ask you to do it. It doesn't matter if it's getting me a cup of coffee or rewriting a report. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she replied in a brusque manner. His abrupt and ultra-professional attitude had taken her by surprise. He truly was the consummate soldier; he had a mission and a battle plan set before him, and he had morphed into the military dog that he is. Gone was the ridiculous slacker with a mouthful of sexual innuendos. "Sir, do I have a part in this mission?"

"Your part is to stay here and clear out some of this old paperwork. I need you to organize and get things ready for when we return. I have the feeling there's going to be a shit load of paperwork from this mission. I need you here to get ready for that," he said with a no nonsense, no room for argument gruffness.

But she was going to try anyway. "But, sir – " Flynn began, immediately closing her mouth when he rose from his chair and glared at her.

"Lieutenant Brogan!" he yelled, leaning over his desk toward her. "I have issued you your orders! You are nothing but a glorified paper pusher with a title anyway! You will stay here and do the job you have been trained for which is paperwork! Do you understand?"

Flynn felt tears stinging the back of her eyelids. She stared him in disbelief. She cleared her throat and straightened her backbone. "Yes, sir. Sir, may I be excused momentarily? I need to retrieve some files from the Central Library."

"You may go," Colonel Mustang said, sitting back down at his desk.

Flynn did intend to go to the records office, but she also refused to have a school girl outburst of emotion in front of her new coworkers. She had already embarrassed herself enough. She forced herself to walk at a regular pace out of the door despite the fact she wanted to flee and never come back. After carefully closing the door behind her, she walked slowly down the hall taking deep breaths.

"Sir, don't you think that was a little harsh?" Havoc inquired boldly.

"Shut up, Havoc. Don't let your personal feelings get involved here," the Colonel snapped. But wasn't that exactly what he was doing? He sighed heavily, attempting to concentrate on the papers in front of him.

Flynn returned about thirty minutes later, dumping a thick stack of files on Mustang's desk. "Here," she barked, glaring at him when his head jerked up in surprise. "These are all the files that Hughes had been going through before he was killed. I'm sure a lot of that information will prove to be useful. Now, point me to the paperwork, and I'll begin my job." She followed his finger as he pointed to the two twelve inch high stacks of papers that had been put on her desk while she was gone. "Very well, sir."

The Colonel followed her with his eyes as she walked around the other side of her desk as far away from him as possible. He had not meant to be so cruel to her. He did not want her to have anything to do with this mission because there was bound to be serious injuries, but he would make damned sure there would be no casualties. He wanted her to stay safe and sound here in the office far away from the danger.

Flynn grabbed the thick stack of papers on top groaning as she flipped through the numerous pages of the lengthy report that would have to be reviewed before finalizing it. She could feel Mustang's eyes on her but ignored him. She soon forgot about everyone in the room because she was buried so deep in paperwork.

"Honey?" Havoc called. He had to address her a few times before he finally got her attention she was concentrating so hard on the report in front of her. When she looked up at him, he asked, "Would you like to go to lunch with me?"

"I'm not really hungry," she replied, looking back down at the report.

"Flynn," he stated her name with such seriousness she immediately looked back up at him. "We need to talk. Come with me, please."

"All right," she sighed, flipping the papers over to hold her place. This day just keeps getting better. She was not in the mood for a deep heartfelt talk, but she could tell one was coming anyway.

Havoc took her hand and led her to one of the ancient oak trees in front of the office building. He sat down on one of the huge gnarled roots that was as high as a chair. He lit a cigarette, inviting her to sit down next to him.

Flynn sat down, although she would have rather stood. She was startled to see him smoking; he usually refrained from it when he was around her. That had been her first indication of how much he cared about her. It made her nervous that he was smoking now; apparently a very grave conversation was about to ensue.

"Do you love me?" he asked curtly, looking straight ahead of him instead of at her.

"Yes, I do. Jean, where are you going with this?" she inquired, placing her hand on his knee. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her when he still would not look at her. She pulled her hand away, but he grabbed it to hold it in his.

"I have no doubt you do, but I don't think you love me enough. I don't think you would make a good wife or be able to have a lasting marriage with me," he stated with an almost cruel truthfulness.

Flynn swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed and threatened to choke her. She tried to pull away from him, but he gathered her into his arms and held her against him. She felt the first wave of tears spill over her lower eyelids and flood down her face.

"I'm sorry. I know now isn't a good time, but there really never is a good time for breaking up is there? I'm letting you go, Flynn. There's a man that will make you very happy, but I'm not him. I really began thinking hard about things after the balcony incident. I was frightened because I didn't want anything to happen to you. I saw a look on the Colonel's face I'd never seen before," he said, releasing her from his embrace. "It would have hurt me if something had happened to you, but I believe it would have killed Mustang."

Flynn held back a sarcastic comment. It was nice to know he would have shed a few tears if she had taken a fatal fall. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it. She was astounded by his calm logic as he not only broke off their engagement but ended their relationship. There was none of the typical hemming and hawing, avoiding the point, and beating around the proverbial bush. He did not go to the typical insincere ploy of 'it's not you, it's me' or indulge in the guilt diminishing 'let's just be friends' lameness. Her tears had already ceased flowing after the initial shock passed.

"You know that's why he did that earlier don't you?" Havoc asked, gaining her attention from her thoughts. "He doesn't want anything to happen to you. He could definitely use you on the mission, but he will not because he wants to keep you safe. He's never lost a subordinate yet, and he certainly doesn't want to start with you."

Her heart raced with the thought that if something happened to her it would adversely affect Mustang to the degree that Hughes' death had. Did he really love her? Could he love her that much?

"Do you want the ring back?" she inquired, taking it off her finger.

"No. You can keep it," he said, taking it from her and sliding it on her right hand ring finger. "I'm sorry, Flynn. You're just too much for me to handle. Too bold. Too impulsive. Too independent."

"That's funny. Everyone keeps telling me I'm exactly what you need," she sniffed, daring to look at him. She smiled at him as he gave her one of his prize winning smiles despite the tears in his eyes.

"They're probably right. My mom always told me I never know what's good for me," he said, throwing the rest of his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out.

"Is it my fault? Did I stay around Mustang too much?" she asked, looking away from him.

"No. It was mine for once again falling in love with the wrong woman," he answered, standing up. He held out his hand for her, helping her across the maze of roots so she would not fall.

"There's no way I can change your mind is there?" Flynn inquired, still holding his hand as they stood in the grass.

"No. You'll be all right and so will I," Havoc assured her, brushing a stray curl away from her face and behind her ear.

"All right. Kiss me one last time then," she requested, closing her eyes as he leaned down to her. The kiss was brief yet sublime, sealing their end as a couple. One last hug from him, and she turned to walk away. The one thing she could not do was watch him walk away from her.