Author's Note: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist or anything associated with it. Wish I did, but I don't.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mustang wanted to kill Hughes. Dammit, he could strangle him, resuscitate him, and then bring him back to kill him again.

This time, Hughes had ticked Mustang off way too early in the morning. Everyone at headquarters knows full well how pristine Mustang's uniform has to be in the morning, just in case the Fuhrer should stop by. Everyone also knows his temper if his pristine uniform is tampered with in any way, shape, or form, especially when the Fuhrer is expected to come. Everyone, that is, except his very own best friend.

Hughes had to stop by Armestris with the Fuhrer, and before the day officially started, he decided to have a little fun with the uptight Colonel.

While Mustang was going through his daily ritual of drowning himself in coffee, Hughes saw the perfect opportunity. Maes gravitated towards the Flame and sat on the edge of his desk. Roy was obviously getting affected by the caffeine in his system, as he was wagging his foot.

"What do you want, Hughes?" Roy inquired.

"Oh nothing! Just noticing, are those new shoes?"

Roy blinked at this question. For an information specialist, Hughes was amazingly oblivious sometimes.

"No, Hughes. They're not. Leave me to my coffee."

What possessed Maes to do this, even he didn't know, but Maes called out, "SHOE!" and stole the one on Roy's wagging foot.

Throwing down his coffee, Mustang called after his increasingly aggrivating friend.

"COME BACK HERE WITH MY SHOES, LIEUTENANT COLONEL!"

Hughes ran through Headquarters like a flash of light with Roy's shoe. Of course, the Flame-retard was chasing after him, one shoes off and one shoe on. Eventually Mustang hobbled into the communications office.

"Give. Me. My. Fucking. Shoe. NOW."

"You have to get it from me first!" Maes stated in a sing-songy voice.

"Give me my shoe now, or else I will turn you into a barbeque, Maes." Roy demanded.

Fuery, Havoc, Falman, and Breda stood watching the two men circling around the desk between them. It was quite a humorous site: Mustang was cursing the day Maes ever got a brilliant idea involving his misery, and Hughes was dancing about enjoying this rare power trip.

"Maes, I have had it! I swear to GOD that I will KILL YOU if you don't give me MY GOD DAMN SHOE!" Roy bellowed.

At this threat, Maes ran out of the office and into the chest of Major Armstrong. His chest could have been compared to that of a brick wall, especially when smashed into from a running start. Maes felt like every bone in his body cracked, snapped, and popped, but Armstrong felt nothing. As Hughes was peeling himself off of the major, the Colonel was rounding the corner. Rounding, hobbling, same difference. Major Armstrong noticed Mustang's missing shoe.

"Colonel Mustang! Incomplete uniform! Such indecency!"

At this travesty, Major Armstrong threw off his shirt, surrounded by pink sparklies, and posed.

"Talk about indecency. Major, put on your shirt, and while you're at it, I need my shoe!"

Armstrong then grabbed the shoe out of Maes' hand and gave it to the irritated Flame.

"Returning shoes to their owners has been passed down through the Armstrong family line from generation to generation..." Armstrong proclaimed.

Halfway through Armstrong's sermon on his family line, Maes and Roy walked away leaving the Major to his shirtlessness and pink sparklies.

As soon as the two men walked into the office, Mustang jumped on Hughes.

"I'm going to KILL YOU!" Roy practically strangled Maes.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to ---"

There was a click. A very familiar click.

"Mustang. Hughes. Shut the HELL up or else I will personally shoot you both."

The two men, in midst of beating each other, stopped with fists mid-punch. They looked at each other, looked at Hawkeye, and then cleaned up.

"Hughes! Old buddy old pal, I'll ... err... talk to you later..."

"Yes, later... eheh..."