Disclaimer: These characters, and situations referred to as past occurrences are the brain-child of Arakawa Hiromu, and I don't claim any of the genius applied to their creation. This small excerpt, however, is of my own creation.

Warning: OOCness . . . I couldn't resist forever :D

"Useless" by Dailenna

The car rumbled along the road through the gloomy colours of the day. It made a path in the pattern of the raindrops, keeping the short distance behind from receiving those drops, until the car moved past and onto the next stretch of road. It seemed to move on carelessly – the car had a job to do; people to transport. It would keep on going, unaware of the dismal mood of one of its occupants.

He sat there in the passenger seat, elbow pushed up against the bottom of the window, resting on the small ledge that jutted out. His head rested moodily on that dejected hand and his eyes followed the path of a raindrop on the window being pushed towards the back of the car by the wind resistance outside. That drop, he thought, was just like him – buffeted about by the surrounding forces with no say in the matter. Drat the wind, curse the puddles, and damn those infernal rainclouds!

"Did you wish to go somewhere else, sir?"

He pulled his head up and his eyes flickered over to the voice. Somewhere else? What was that? Oh, they had stopped driving. He hadn't noticed the car stopping its consistent purring. "No, no, this is fine, Lieutenant."

The door closed behind him loudly in the hushed environment. Everything seemed louder and drearier in the rain, he noticed. Maybe it was because there weren't any birds singing, or crickets chirping, or any of the usual 'romantic' and natural sounds that occurred when the sun was shining.

Water sloshed up against his boots as he trudged into the building, and he was rudely awakened from his sulky reverie when his foot found a pot-hole in the middle of a puddle, and his boot finally went far enough under the surface of the water to allow a goodly splash of water to rush to pool around his toes. Why did the tongue of the boot have to start so low? When they made the uniform, they should have thought ahead and made it even less possible for water to infiltrate his footwear. Whoever 'they' were. Now his sock would be wet for the rest of the day, unless he kept his boot off in the office, and there were sure to be complaints about that from Havoc and the others.

Today had been bad enough as it was. He wouldn't put up with the others' complaints. Today he would just tell them to cope with it, or it'd be ashes for them. He found his way into his office, having left a muddy trail into the building that faded away after a corridor or two. While there would be complaints from the cleaners, they couldn't blame it on him. Good. He didn't need more to push him over the edge. Unfortunately for him, the thundercloud had followed him into the building, nestling warmly about his head.

His office was empty. No half-witted subordinates to whine about his feet yet they must still be returning from their last little mission. There was too much paperwork to do about that little confrontation. He busied himself with removing the drenched boot and sopping sock before emptying the water into the pot-plant in the corner of the room. He squeezed out the sock over the pot, fists clenched hard as though he was attempting to choke the water out of it.

He still had one bare foot and was standing over the plant when the door opened and his driver stepped into the room, placing the papers about the incident onto his desk before walking to her own. In a moment his voice rung out, and she turned around to face him.

His voice was slow to begin with, but it picked up the pace as he spoke. "I know I can't use my alchemy in the rain, but that doesn't make me completely 'useless'!"

Light brow furrowing, she spoke deliberately. "This is what you were sulking about the whole ride back?"

He made his way over the floor, and leant back against his desk, still holding his sock in one hand. His discarded boot remained on the floor by the pot-plant. "It's just the way you said it," he mumbled, crossing his arms. "Useless." A few other derivations of the word were muttered underneath his breath, as though he was turning the idea over and over in his mind – the ride in the car hadn't been long enough for him to think this conversation through, obviously.

Her weight shifted onto one leg, and she put a hand on her hip. "But in the rain, you are."

The message cut into him. She thought that he couldn't do anything when it was raining. The damp incapacitated him completely. That was the idea her words drilled into him. His eyes were now set on the floor, as he angrily cast to find an escape from the weaker idea she had of him. "Not always. Not at everything."

His eyes were still lowered, and so he didn't see hers widen. Oh, of course – anything he was good at in the rain. She gave a small laugh. He heard and looked up to see her approaching him, a small smile playing around her mouth.

"No. You're not useless at everything." His eyes widened at the tone in her voice, as she leant forwards to place a kiss on his lips. Then she turned about and wandered off to her own desk, hips swaying. He caught that cheeky look back at him before she sat down. To him, that looked like a promise. A promise that he wouldn't be completely useless in the rain . . . ooh, he liked the idea of that. He smiled and gave his sock one last shake before sitting to write out a report.