Set after the main storyline, when Miles is in Ishval and Grumman is fuhrer. I should note that this is slightly AU in that Buccaneer is still alive and did not die in the battle against Wrath, but that's the only change I've made.

This was all Riza's fault.

Well, hers and Fuhrer Grumman's, anyway.

"Oh Olivier, you're so sweet to do that for them." "Oh Olivier, you must be an angel sent from heaven." "Oh Olivier, you have no idea what a tremendous sacrifice you're making."

Oh yes she did. She knew exactly what a huge sacrifice this was. And she did not like it.

"Oh Olivier, we can't thank you enough!" You got that right, sister. Never in a million years would anything compensate for this. And yet, here she was. In the one situation she would never have imagined herself in even in her worst nightmares.

Olivier was barefoot and pregnant. And single. In the kitchen of the Armstrong mansion. Miles away from Briggs. And hating everyone.

Now it wasn't really the pregnancy that bothered her. No, as a matter of fact that was going fairly well even though she was only two and half weeks along. No morning sickness, stomach still flat, still plenty of energy. Olivier was in the kitchen of her own free will; it had been her pigheaded idea to try and cook breakfast for herself to prove to her family that just because she was pregnant, it didn't mean she was helpless (which later backfired as she burned everything, even the water she was boiling). No, none of that made Olivier want to kill something.

It was the fact that she was pregnant with Mustang's kid. And no one bothered to tell her about it until just last night.

"That prick!" she growled, snapping a toothpick in half. "I'll kill him. That is if I don't kill Riza and Grumman first." Snap. Another toothpick was gone. "It's no wonder she wouldn't tell me where the sperm was coming from." Snap. "I can't believe I actually agreed to this. What the hell was I thinking?" Snap. Snap. Snap.

"You were thinking that this is a nice thing to do and that you're on a paid vacation anyway, so why not?" Olivier ignored her brother as he marched into the kitchen and attempted to keep her focus on breaking toothpicks. After she'd lost her temper about a month ago and sent a private to the hospital by socking him a good one right in the face, Grumman and the higher-ups were convinced she needed a healthy stress reliever and had ordered her to try various methods, saying that if she didn't they would file charges. First they tried to get her to, of all things, squeeze a rubber duck with an obnoxiously loud squeaker. As if the Ice Queen of Briggs was going to carry a damn toy around with her. Then Lieutenant Havoc had suggested breaking toothpicks, saying it worked for him sometimes after a hard day at work. Olivier had been rather surprised at how satisfying and calming it felt, the snapping sound reminiscent of breaking bones, and since then had tried to always keep a box nearby. In the two weeks since becoming pregnant, she'd gone through about eight of them.

"I should not" –snap- "be on a vacation." Snap. Snap. "Paid or otherwise." Snap. "My fort needs me!" Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap.

"Wasn't it you who said that you had trained your men to be ready for anything?" Alex reminded her as he sat down at the kitchen counter. He sniffed the air. "Good heavens, what on earth have you burned?" He nearly fell out of his seat upon seeing the death glare she shot him. It was chillingly similar to the bears that roamed the outside of her ice palace. Suddenly he felt very, very grateful for those toothpicks.

"I cannot believe Fuhrer Grumman dragged me into this. That man should be fired for egregious nepotism and for interfering in his subordinate's affairs!"

"Olivier, is it really so terrible of him to want to help his granddaughter? You saw how grateful Lieutenant Hawkeye was, didn't you? She had tears in her eyes. Oh, it was so beautiful!" Olivier rolled her eyes as Alex dabbed at his cheeks with an embroidered hankie.

"And it's so wonderful that you're helping her!" He jumped down and rushed toward her. Olivier turned and tried to run, but one of the many disadvantages of being pregnant was no sudden movements, no combat training, basically nothing fun. Alex caught her and lifted her up in a crushing backwards hug. Olivier grit her teeth and pinched at his bloated arms until he carefully set her down. Olivier shoved his hand away.

"You're a revolting little pansy," she spat and stalked out of the kitchen. "I'm going outside and don't you dare follow me."

Olivier stepped out into the backyard, relishing the warm sun. She still wasn't quite used to the temperature- hell, it was actually above zero- but she loved being outside no matter what, and the Armstrong yard was breathtaking. It was surrounded by thousands of flowers in all colors, and there was a butterfly garden nearby that was revered all over the country. Not to mention it was the one place in Central that didn't reek of pollution.

Olivier treaded carefully over to the butterfly garden and lay back on one of the soft couches near the shade, listening to birds, bees, and woodpeckers go about their routine. She stretched as far as she could and propped up her feet. She closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh, relaxing. If there was a heaven like the Ishvalans talked about, which she doubted, this was what she would imagine it to be like.

Almost as if they had minds of their own, her hands drifted to her stomach and stayed there, caressing it absentmindedly. Becoming a surrogate mother was not something she'd had in mind when she'd planned to return to Central.

"General Armstrong, what brings you here?"

"The Fuhrer sent me a letter I wish to discuss and I haven't been able to reach him by phone. I plan to ask him what this is all about and also deliver some paperwork from Briggs." The letter, which demanded that she take a paid vacation immediately, was being crumbled in half as she walked.

But when she'd entered the office- the door was open, all the more proof that Central had shitty security- the Fuhrer was standing next to Lieutenant Hawkeye, who was sitting in a chair. His hand was on her shoulder and both of them looked incredibly grim.

"Why, Grandfather?" Riza whispered. "Why does this keep happening to me? I did everything I could think of to make sure I wouldn't lost this one."

"I know, Riza. I'm so sorry. I wish there was something else I could do."

Olivier hesitated in the doorway, wondering if maybe she should leave and come back later since clearly the Fuhrer was dealing with…er, issues. But she really didn't want to wait. She'd boarded a damn train to come here and wanted this sorted out.

"The doctor said I really shouldn't try anymore. That it could damage my health." She sighed and stared at the floor, wiping at her eyes a bit. "I wanted a baby so bad."

"Are you sure there's no other option? I know you didn't want to adopt, but…" Riza just shook her head. Grumman sighed. Olivier slowly inched her way back out the door, but accidentally banged against it and cursed under her breath.

Their heads snapped up. "General?" Grumman called. Olivier stood at attention. "Ah yes, I figured you would come here after I sent that letter." He smiled weakly.

"It's quite alright sir. I can come back later," she said and turned to leave.

"No no, don't go. You've come all this way, I won't make you wait. Just sit down and I'll be with you in a moment."

"Are you sure sir?" Olivier asked, glancing toward Riza, whose eyes were still a little wet.

"Yes, it's fine. I'll talk to you later, okay Riza?" She nodded and stood up. Olivier did feel some pity for her, she'd known Riza since she had first joined the military at seventeen and knew that she'd always wanted to be a mother. Why she wanted to be a mother was beyond Olivier, but then again Riza probably thought her just as crazy for enjoying the Briggs life.

"Oh Riza!" Grumman snapped his fingers, his features lightening. "I just remembered. There is another option."

"What's that?" Riza's face brightened just a tad as she turned around.

"What about a surrogate?" When she looked confused, he explained, "I read about it in the paper. In the last several years doctors have perfected a technique that would let them take your egg and some sperm, make the embryo, and then insert it into the body of another healthy young woman who carries the baby to term and then gives it to the happy couple. I don't know all the scientific details, but there were plenty of success stories about it. Why don't you try that?"

Riza stopped in her tracks and thought for a moment. "It does sound good in theory. But what woman would be willing to do something so huge? That's such a monumental…I don't even know what to call it."

Grumman looked at the ceiling, presumably in thought. Olivier tapped her foot. This was wasting her time. Grumman's eyes immediately darted to her. "What about General Armstrong? She's fairly young, she's healthy, why not her?"

Olivier's eyes widened and her shoulders tensed. "Excuse me sir?" she snapped, her voice frostier than it should have been when directed at the ruler of the country.

Grumman grinned. "I think you should carry Riza's baby. You're such a strong woman, pregnancy would be no problem for you."

"Grandfather!" Riza exclaimed, mortified. "You can't ask her to do something like that."

"Well, I am the Fuhrer," Grumman chuckled.

Olivier clenched her teeth. "With respect, sir, I have a fort to run and a border to protect. While I am sympathetic to the Lieutenant's situation, I'm afraid I cannot help her." She was beginning to see why the old man was known as eccentric. Who the hell did he think he was, asking her to do something like that? Why didn't he just ask her to wear a "For Rent" sign around her neck while he was at it?

"On the contrary, you have a year's worth of paid vacation time." He held up a finger before she could open her mouth. "And I know you came down here to argue that. Well, don't bother. It's a new labor law that all the higher-ups are insisting on, especially for people in the military. Anyone who has not taken more than a month off in five years is now required to do this. You, my dear, have never taken more than a week off in ten years. So you now have some spare time on your hands."

His tone was maddening, and if Grumman had been anyone but the fuhrer she would have wiped that condescending smile off his face in a second. "Sir, my men need me. My country needs me. I cannot afford a year off."

He frowned. "You can and they can. I have already ordered Briggs not to let you back in should you return before the year's end. You may deliver the paperwork they've sent, but after that you are required by law to utilize the time off. If you try to resist, I'll have some of my Central soldiers keep watch over you and make sure you're obeying the law." Olivier tensed, trying not to break her attention stance or make a fist. Why was he doing this? It wasn't any of his business how much time she did or didn't take off.

Grumman shrugged and smiled. "Sweetheart, why not take a break? You've worked so hard I think you've earned one. Now you have a year to relax and pursue other hobbies. Doesn't that appeal to you at all? Because it certainly would to me."

Olivier let out a long sigh. As much as she wanted to put up a fight, she wasn't willing to jeopardize her career by crossing the fuhrer over something like this. "Fine. But I'm returning to Briggs immediately after the year's end." A whole year away from her home. What on earth was she supposed to do for a year?

Grumman nodded. "Good, good. Now about this baby business-"

Olivier's eyes flashed. "I have already given you my answer on that, sir."

"Well it's not like you have anything else to do. Why not help Riza out with a good deed?"

"Grandfather, please!" Riza chided. She turned to Olivier. "General, I apologize. It's not your responsibility to provide me with a child. You go and enjoy your vacation, and I hope to see you again when you leave."

Olivier returned her salute. "Thank you Lieutenant. And I do hope you find someone suitable for your cause."

Riza sighed. "I hope so too. The only women I would feel comfortable asking are in the military and they're all focused on their careers."

"Good luck." Olivier turned to go when Grumman stopped her.

"Wait, General!"

She stood at attention again, but didn't turn around. "Yes, sir?"

"I have a proposition for you."

"What is it?"

"If you carry my great-grandchild, I will promote you two whole ranks and designate you as next in line to be fuhrer should something happen to me."

Olivier's heart raced. Promoted up to General of the Army, the highest rank possible, and next in line for fuhrer? Opportunities like that never happened.

No. He was asking her to do the impossible. In fact, it wasn't just impossible. It was insulting.

"Sir, while I would certainly like to achieve that status, I want to do it by my own merits and achievements, not because I did your granddaughter a favor."

"How about if I throw in five trillion cenz to the budget for weapons and supplies for Briggs?"

Olivier bit her lip, grateful she had her back to them. This was actually getting tempting. Her men always needed more weapons and supplies, and five trillion cenz was nothing to sneeze at.

"And I'll send you fifteen of Central's finest researchers for medicinal and arsenal development."

How did he know they desperately needed new researchers? Olivier truly hated this man. He knew her weaknesses.

She shook her head. "Sir, I'm not a mother."

"You wouldn't have to be. The minute the kid pops out, he or she is no longer your responsibility. You've got a full year and the baby only needs nine months. Just carry it to term, pop that sucker out, and after a little bit of rest and recovery, you'll be free to go back home to your new researchers and five trillion cenz richer budget. And with a much higher rank to boot."

She whipped around. "Fuhrer sir, with all due respect, why does this have to be me?"

"You're the only woman in Central who isn't on active duty right now," Riza said uneasily. Olivier shot her a glare. Traitor. Riza was supposed to be on Olivier's side.

Grumman put his hands together in a plea. "All of your medical bills will be paid for and you will be well taken care of, I promise you. And remember there's plenty in it for Briggs. I know all too well your men don't get the credit they deserve and I plan to change that."

"I-"

"Think of your fort, Olivier," Grumman reminded her. "Think of your boys up north. They could use the reward, couldn't they? And think how happy you'll have made Riza. Look at her."

Olivier turned around. The minute she saw Riza's face that reminded her of a kicked puppy, her heart sank. There was no getting out of this. Even if she said no today, Grumman would more than likely ask her again later. And she wouldn't put it past him to demote a few of her men as punishment either.

Olivier sighed, still glaring at both of them. "All right. Fine. But let me make one thing clear. I am not raising this kid. The second it comes out, it is your problem. Don't ask me to change any diapers."

Riza let out a breath. "You really will do it?"

"Yes," Olivier said reluctantly.

"Oh Olivier, thank you," Riza said, flashing her a smile big enough to drive a tank over. She resisted the urge to glare at Grumman, who was snickering and probably patting himself on the back for working it out so perfectly.

"Thank you so much!"

"Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

And that was how it happened. The next several days were a blur of legal contracts, talking to doctors, and exchanging information. Olivier had pressed Riza for details on where the sperm was coming from- as far as she knew Riza wasn't married or dating- and Riza had said it was from a random donor. The next thing she knew, she was lying on her back on an operating table, being anesthetized while the doctors did who knew what to get the baby inside her. When she woke up there was a monitor attached to her and smiling people surrounded her and said the procedure had gone well. Other than that not much had happened since it was only two weeks and the baby was still too tiny to be noticed yet.

At least, nothing had happened until last night.