Reading Fullmetal's reports was both one of General Mustang's most favorite and hated pastimes. Over time the reports had gotten more coherent, as Edward Elric had gotten older and more used to the military's demands. But the reports were still written with a sloppy disregard for the opinions of whoever was reading them. He'd do everything from talking about this one restaurant that had the sauce for the chicken just perfect, to ranting on about how 'stupid the military is when they have their authoritative hats screwed on to tight and are digging themselves an early grave'.
They were quite enjoyable to read. Mustang learned a lot about Edward from the events he didn't put into his reports. And Edward had such a unique way of looking at things that Mustang often found himself telling Hawkeye that no, he did not need medical attention, he was holding his stomach in an attempt to keep from rolling around on the floor in hysterics.
But every time Mustang read the reports he found himself wincing at how wrong someone who didn't know the Fullmetal Alchemist could take everything he wrote. He supposed after years of reading the oddly phrased comments all of his superiors had gotten used to the reports, but someone new always took it wrong. The time the former General had burst into is office demanding that Fullmetal be sent in for a mental evaluation had been particularly bad. Especially when Mustang had had to explain to Edward why he was going to the shrink. That had been frustrating and embarrassing.
Although, no matter how much he liked the written reports, hearing it straight from the horse's mouth, as they say, was much more interesting.
Edward sat sprawled on the small couch a little to the left of Mustang's desk. One leg was hooked up over the arm and his hands were folded beneath his head. His trademark red coat hung over the back of his seat as if he had taken up residence in Mustang's office.
"What are you doing here Fullmetal?" asked Roy.
"I was taking a nap until you had to start interrogating me." Edward didn't even open his eyes.
Mustang nearly snorted. Interrogation. Is that what they were calling innocent questions these days?
"Then why don't you take your nap elsewhere? I do have work to do," said Mustang, knowing full well that he wouldn't actually work on it until Hawkeye got around to threatening him.
"Nah, your couch is nice and cozy, besides you can't order me to do anything. You're not my commanding officer anymore," replied Edward.
"And you're not trying to nap in General Harrier's office because…?" Roy trailed off.
"Because the last time I did that she dumped maple syrup on me. And she had done something to it so that I couldn't get if off with alchemy. Do you know how long it took to get that stuff out of my hair?" Now Edward did open his eyes, lifting a hand to run it lovingly through his bangs.
Normally Mustang would have been tempted to smirk and tease Edward about how much he looked like a girl doing that, and maybe that was why he was vertically challenged, all the energy went into growing hair. He didn't though, neither having the interest or the energy to deal with a furious Edward.
"Then get out of my office and go home Fullmetal," said Mustang, starting to get annoyed. He actually did have work to do and probably should be getting around to doing it.
"Not until you agree to come to the party that Ms. Hughes is holding. She said none of us military people ever celebrate the festivals right. There's supposed to be a lot of good food and we're going to play piñata."
Again, a wide-open invitation to say something about Edward's height and what that would do to his piñata skills. He wasn't usually this bad at the game. Mustang ignored the opening.
"So? Do I get to leave your boring office or not?" demanded Edward.
"The door's right there Fullmetal. All you have to do is walk over and open it," said Mustang, deliberately misunderstand what was asked.
Edward frowned at him. "Are you coming to the party or not?" he asked.
"I have lots of work to do…" Roy began.
"No you don't. I talked to Hawkeye. Surprisingly enough she said you have absolutely no work to do. She said you've been getting it all done on time and she hasn't even had to threaten you," said Edward.
"You talked to Hawkeye?"
Edward nodded affirmative. "And Gracia and Havoc. Now are you coming to the party or not?"
"If it will get you out of my office," said Mustang.
"I'm gone, General," Edward said briskly as he jumped up off the couch and headed towards the door. "The party's at six in that park by Gracia's place. You know, that one with the creek that goes off into the forest?"
"I know where it is Fullmetal."
"Good. See you then."
As the door shut behind Fullmetal's retreating figure, his red coat now draped over his left shoulder, Mustang wondered what he had gotten himself into. There was no way he wanted to go to a party, he'd much rather be a home enjoying a nice book in front of the fire, but maybe he would go.
Looking down at his empty desk and seeing that there actually wasn't any work that he needed to do was rather telling. He did need to have a break, and maybe going to the party for a little while, he certainly wouldn't stay the entire time, would be good for him.
He hadn't talked to Gracia much since Maes' death. Maybe a party full of other people where no one could make much of it would be a good time to start again. He did miss Alicia.
"General?" came the muffled voice of Hawkeye through the closed door.
"Come in," Mustang called.
"General, Edward Elric just told me to clear all of your meetings today after six o'clock," she said.
"Did he now?" mumbled Mustang.
"Sir?"
"That's right Hawkeye. It seems we're going to a party," he said.
Hawkeye's lips twitched up in a smile before she nodded her head and spun around to exit his office.
Looking down at his empty desk Mustang felt a smile stretch across his face, too.
"I believe I've discovered our opportune moment, sir."
"Oh?"
"It seems Brigadier General Mustang will be attending a party off military grounds tonight."
"Very good."
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01/15/06 11:35