Summary: At the right angle, in a line of sight, one might wonder why he never stopped staring at her for so much as a second.

Theme: 092. Happiness

Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist.

Angles

092. Happiness

Finally, Roy Mustang had his dream come true.

His one small perk as reward to himself since becoming leader, the one tiny detail Hawkeye had objected to: the miniskirt army. Today the law would be set in motion. His subordinate would come to the office in the new dress code, a minimal skirt which would not cover her shapely legs. This, he mused, was what being on top was all about. Not the power or gifts, but rather the small perks such as her. In a skirt. A short skirt at that. He grinned languidly. Unfortunately, she had other plans.

"Hawkeye, you are breaking the dress code law. Please see to it that you change for lunch."

Then he saw her grin. He did not like that grin. It was a smirk that read that she was very much going to wear trousers and there was nothing he could do about it. But it was law. His law, in fact, and she had never been one to ignore the rules. She beamed happily.

"But sir, if you read the paperwork; you would know that I am allowed to wear what I see as fit for purpose. The law states that on grounds of sexism, I may wear what I feel comfortable in; be it miniskirt or trousers, as may male employees of the national army."

Though Armstrong may have a surprise for him on that front, her smirk read. He groaned, wishing that for once he had handled the paperwork rather than allowing her to do it for him. Even his signature on the paperwork for the law had been forged by her. Sure, it made it void; but admitting that now to his advisors would only mean the entire law became nullified.

"Please, Hawkeye."

She had refused, point blank. Though after lunch, he returned to a surprise. Apparently Havoc had some incriminating things against her, because during the break she had been not so gently persuaded. In fact, it was more than a surprise; bent over his desk putting the papers forward, the military issue skirt rode slightly too high on her rather curvaceous hips and – oh sweet life if that did not make him believe in a God he did not know what would. She tipped back on her heels though, patting the skirt down just as he fully entered the room. He knew it had not been done as a favour to him, but still, the view was rather becoming.

"If you say anything sir, I will be forced to shoot you."

All Roy could do was stare at her legs and smile, overcome with happiness.

I do love giving Havoc a little bit of a spotlight. Roy finally got what he wanted anyway. This is meant to be taken in jest, a little harmless bit of fun really. A real miniskirt army would be incredibly ill fitting.

Reviews & criticism appreciated.