Dedicated to Mr. Handerhan, for being the second person to notice my totally awesome nails! (That creeped me out a little, you know.)

And so she stared.

The Fuhrer's home was massive, three stories, and just overall HUGE. Each story was about 17 feet tall, and three stories made 51 feet tall, not including the curved roof of stone lions. And that was just HUGE.

Starrla sighed, and shifted from foot to foot. What surprises would greet her in the home of the Fuhrer? And HOW could she possibly clean all this in two weeks? And how many maids, exactly, did Roy Mustang have?

The timid colonel entered the tall building, to find it had… A receptionist?

"Hello, um, is Fuhrer Roy in?"

The tall receptionist stared down her nose at Starrla. "Ah, yes, you must be Starrla, the colonel. Cut work, I hear?"

"Yes. Please, just tell me where the Fuhrer is so I can start working!"

The receptionist smirked and pointed down a hallway. "The Fuhrer's home is on that side of the building."

Ah. So the whole building wasn't Roy's.

Starrla looked the opposite direction. "Then what is on that side of the building?"

"The homes and rooms of the other important military officers."

"I see." She lifted a hand and turned to the side of the building that was Roy's house.

She pushed open the door and shut it behind her. "Hello? Sir!" She called. "Are you home? Did you go out? General Riza?"

"Mm… Starrla?"

Starrla turned. Riza stood in a doorway, rubbing her eyes. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were underlined with black circles. Nevertheless, she was fully dressed and held a small phone. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I, um, skipped work and Roy's making me clean your house… He gave me DETENTION."

Riza chuckled dryly. "How like Roy. He'll be home soon, I can assure you."

"Are you going somewhere, general?"

"Yes, the doctor's office. I have that flu that's going around. What a great time to get sick."

"I'm so sorry, general Riza. I hope they find a cure, honest."

Riza smiled and left. Starrla looked around and just sat on a couch, whistling and staring out the window. Surely, her Fuhrer would come soon, right?

There was a click, and the door opened. "Starrla? Are you here already? Where's General Riza?"

Starrla looked up at her superior, saluting briefly. "Sir! General Riza went to the doctor's office. And… She told you to take out the trash!"

"We have people to do that for us. Riza wouldn't say such a thing!"

Roy knew his wife Riza better than Starrla thought.

"Of course, sir. She must have meant me. Now what should I do while I'm here?"

Roy looked out the window and at the floor. He hadn't exactly PLANNED what to make Starrla do. "Well… I guess the windows need cleaning, and the tables need dusting. You can vacuum the floors tomorrow, I guess. Knowing Riza, the bed is already made."

"At once, sir."

"You're not at work anymore, Starrla."

"Sir, it is customary to address the Fuhrer as Sir at all times, unless prohibited by the Fuhrer him or her self!"

Starrla had gone over the rules thoroughly before she applied for a job. This was one of the many things she memorized.

"Then, until tomorrow, I prohibit calling me sir outside of work."

"Thank you, Roy."

"Any time."

So Starrla grabbed a rag and started to polish the woodwork. And there was a LOT of woodwork in Fuhrer Roy Mustang's house.

And by the time she was done, her knee was bleeding and her hands ached. And NOW she had to clean the windows, but not before…

"AHHHH…"

…She collapsed on Roy's bed, after polishing his bedside table. She closed her eyes and sighed, feeling relaxed for the first time in the last two hours.

Once again, a shadow was cast over her. Opening one eye, she saw Roy, staring down at her, blinking.

"Tired?"

"GGRAGH!" Starrla sat up, stubbed her toe, winced, tried to stand up, tripped over her own two feet and fell backwards.

"You're totally falling for me."

"THAT'S A TERRIBLE PUN, ROY!"

"…So WHY aren't you cleaning the windows?"

Starrla crossed her arms and legs stubbornly. "I don't know where the squeegee is. And now my toe hurts, my knee's bleeding, my wrists ache from all the polishing, and I think I just kicked my own foot."

"Tough luck, huh."

Starrla remained where she sat, but her loosened her arms and legs. She sighed and drummed her fingers on the bedspread, staring wistfully out a window at the glittering sky.

"Do you remember earlier, Roy?"

Roy got that feeling again. Either something bad was going to happen, or he was just plain guilty.

"…Yes… How could I not?"

"There's something I didn't tell you." Starrla bit her lip.

Roy's chest pounded, and something behind his bad eye throbbed. "Me, too…" He got a lump in his throat, but swallowed it.

"You first, then."

"Erm… Starrla…"

"Yes?"

"…" Roy stared guiltily at his feet. "I think I'm in love with you…"

Starrla's vision blurred. I think I'm in love with you. But how? Roy was married. And she was engaged. Was Roy suggesting they begin an affair? Or is he just joking? Or is he serious? Or…

"Starrla! Hello?"

Roy already felt guilty, and terrible. He knew what Starrla must be thinking, but he couldn't tell her how to think. Freedom of speech and thought. "I… I'm sorry, I mean, I should have waited… You can go home, Starrla."

"Roy, I love you, too."

"I mean, I know what you must be thinking, I mean… Huh."

"I. Love. You. Too."

They stared at each other. Now Starrla had to be fired. Roy squinted slightly. Well, no, he couldn't do that. The laws on fraternization had been lifted.

Starrla leaned over and kissed him, totally without warning. Roy, surprised, was overwhelmed, and just gave in.

"Roy! I'm home!"

Roy detached himself from Starrla's face and called, being the smooth liar he was, "Hello, Riza! You sound much better! Starrla is just finishing up in the bedroom!"

When Riza entered the bedroom, she found Starrla collapsed on the floor and Roy prodding her with his foot. Starrla squeezed the wet sponge in her hand and dropped it back in the bucket. "I'm not dead, if that's what you're thinking."