Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and it's associated characters and settings were created by Hiromu Arakawa and are distributed by Square-Enix, Funimation and Viz. Greta the Lunchlady is my own creation. No money is being made off this story.

Warning: Contains sexual language and dialogue. Profanity abounds.

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A Confusing Midday: Chapter 5 - Fear, Flo, and a Fullmetal Fool

A Fullmetal Alchemist Story

by Anne Packrat

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The four lowest ranked officers of Mustang's unit had felt some degree of panic and terror when the fuhrer had appeared at their doorstep and asked to see the colonel. No one watching would be able to tell that though. Every person in Mustang's unit was well-schooled on how to quickly don the guise of a devoted member of the fuhrer's army, wanting nothing more then to do his or her best for the mighty nation of Amestris.

The masks they wore were made of the finest bullshit available.

They were devoted all right, but not to the army. Instead they put their faith in a playboy colonel, a gun-toting ice queen and a teenage alchemist sensitive about his height. Each would do whatever was needed to support Mustang in his rise to power. As far as they were concerned, the current fuhrer could take a long walk off a short pier.

They worked in silence throughout the time the fuhrer spent in Mustang's office. The thoughts of each soldier were filled with concern for their colonel, themselves, and what said colonel would do to each of them just in case they had done something to cause this little visit.

Jean Havoc was doubly worried, since he knew of the colonel's new relationship where the other's did not. Could the fuhrer have found out about Roy and Riza seeing each other? Jean hoped that this wasn't the case with every fiber of his being, but certainly the sudden visit of Bradley did not bode well.

The air of tension in the room lightened some when the fuhrer left. Now you could cut the tension with a knife (instead of before when it needed a chainsaw).

When the door to the colonel's office opened each of the subordinates watched Alphonse Elric emerge with fearful looks. Breda flinched at the loud argument issuing from inside the office, which was cut off when Al carefully closed the door.

The boy laughed nervously and looked back and forth between the four soldiers. "The colonel humbly requests your prescences in his office at your earliest convenience."

Despite his anxiety, Falman raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Those weren't the colonel's exact words were they?"

With another nervous laugh, Al put his hand behind his head and stared at the floor. "Actually he said to just get the those, uh..." he paused, and looked up at the soldiers before looking down again, "To get those gosh darn, idiotic, sons of female dogs into his office before he burned their, um, male bits off."

A choked noise came from Fuery as he turned white as a sheet. The poor boy looked like he was about to faint. Havoc noted that Breda and Falman didn't look much better. Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, he addressed the armored messenger in front of him, "Is that all the chief said?"

Al was silent and seemed to be considering something. Finally he looked up at Havoc. "He also called you all, er, 'mother-loving pieces of manure.'"

"We're doomed," Falman proclaimed with a sigh.

The others nodded in agreement and rose to face the music.

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"At least I don't clean my ears with a pencil, unlike certain alchemists I could mention!" Roy yelled, his voice in full-on Ed argument mode.

Ed's face paled, but he didn't back down. "One time I did that! I had an itch!"

Mustang sneered. "Likely story. I bet-" he was interrupted by the entry of his male subordinates. "We'll finish this later, Fullmetal," he said, his eyes not leaving the scared men before him. Breda and Havoc looked nervous, Falman looked grim, and Fuery looked ready to piss himself.

Circling around to the front of his desk, Mustang began to pace in front of his officers. "Gentlemen, as you are no doubt well aware, the fuhrer came to visit with me this afternoon." His subordinates nodded in turn. "It appears that certain rumors have been circulating around headquarters. Certain rumors that have me dating a specific individual."

He stopped and looked back and forth down the line of his officers. "Do any of you know how such vile baseless accusations could have spread?

The colonel began pacing again.

"Perhaps they just sprang out of thin air, eh?"

Rubbing his chin as if in thought, he continued. "Could it have been the rumor fairy?"

The Flame Alchemist stopped in his tracks and turned a cold hard glare on his officers. "OR MAYBE IT'S THE GODDAMN PACK OF GOSSIPING HOUSEWIVES THAT PRETEND TO BE MY SUBORDINATES!" he roared.

Havoc and Breda immediately dropped to their knees and begged for forgiveness. Fuery stood absolutely still, perhaps in some vain hope that he'd blend into the wall behind him and escape notice. Falman merely hung his head in shame.

Noticing their distress Mustang felt a pang of pity, and he slightly lowered his tone when next he spoke. "Let me set the record straight for this one and only time. I am not dating Greta the Lunch Lady," he placed special emphasis on the word not. "I am not dating Armstrong, and I sure as hell am NOT dating Havoc!"

Havoc froze in his groveling. Slowly he got up and gave the colonel a disbelieving stare. "You're not telling me the fuhrer thought I was dating you?"

The colonel nodded. He sighed. "Breda get up, Falman look at me, and Fuery, dammit, stop looking like a deer caught in headlights." Breda stood and the other two also did as they were told. "Now what I want to know is why. Why did you feel the need to spread these rumors?"

Fuery mumbled something, but Mustang didn't catch it. "You need to speak louder, sergeant, I didn't quite catch that."

The young soldier looked at the ground as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. "We- we were worried about you, sir."

Roy blinked in surprise. "What? Why?"

Breda responded this time. "What the kid means, boss, is that you haven't been yourself lately. You're coming in on time, finishing your paperwork, and most importantly NOT bragging about how impressive and full your social life is."

"We've been especially worried, sir," Falman continued, "about how you were holding up due to the recent events involving the late General Hughes."

Roy's eyes clouded briefly at the mention of his friend, but none of the men seemed to notice.

Fuery picked up the thread of conversation again. "So, sir, we, uh, kind of thought, well, um, that maybe it would..."

Breda rolled his eyes. "We thought it might be the thing to jar you out of your funk and get you up and back to the old colonel that we know and love." He paused and added, "We mean love in a purely platonic sense, of course."

The colonel rubbed his temples wearily, he could feel a headache coming on. "So you spread outrageous rumors, and in some cases invented new ones all because you wanted to cheer me up?"

This time Falman nodded. "Yes, sir, although the recent unusual behavior of yourself, Lieutenant Hawkeye and Havoc also fueled some speculation."

Roy sighed. "Look, Havoc has been cheerful lately because..." he paused and glanced over at Havoc. "Do you want to tell them or should I?"

"I might as well," Havoc answered, rolling his cigarette to the other side of his mouth. He fixed his gaze on the three junior officers who regarded him curiously. He took a deep breath. "The reason I've been so cheerful lately is because I have a steady girlfriend."

This declaration was met with silence at first. Then, Breda burst out laughing, and Falman rolled his eyes in disbelief. Fuery at least, had the decency to try to hide his snickering behind his hands.

Havoc's face fell as he saw his friends' reactions. "Com'n, guys, I'm telling the truth here."

Breda gave him a curious look. "Really? You're not kidding us?" He looked over to the colonel for confirmation. Roy nodded in response.

Eyes wide, Fuery asked, "So you really are dating Lieutenant Hawkeye then?"

With his jaw dropping in astonishment, Havoc's (thankfully unlit) cigarette fell to the ground and made a small pile of ash on the ugly brown rug. He glanced over at his superior to find his own incredulity mirrored in Roy and the Ed's faces.

"No! I'm-" Havoc paused to collect himself, "What makes you think--?" He trailed off unable to do anything more then stay at the bespeckled officer.

Suddenly feeling ill-at-ease, Fuery pushed his glasses up and then rubbed his nose. "Well, with the way you two were acting it just seemed to fit." He shifted uncomfortably, "And, Lieutenant Hawkeye has seemed more... er, mellow lately." He paused remembering how short Hawkeye had been with the colonel earlier then said, "Well except for this morning."

"Havoc is in no way dating Hawkeye!" Mustang exclaimed, perhaps a bit too forcefully.

Falman blinked in surprise at the colonel's outburst. "Then why has she been more cheerful lately, sir?"

"Uh, oh," Roy thought, "Better tone it down." He shrugged and out loud he said, "How should I know? Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Snorting, Breda answered for Falman. "Because we don't want to chance having a gun being shoved in our faces."

"Good point," Roy muttered.

Timidly, Al raised his hand. "Uh, Colonel Mustang, sir, I think I heard her say something about a new gun...?" he ventured.

Sending the metal boy a silent thank you for the excuse, Roy nodded. "Yes, I do believe the new Burleigh series of pistols is coming out soon. Hawkeye was saying how they have some new innovative mechanism that cuts reloading time in half." (Briefly he thought back to the Burleigh & Strong Firearms catalog he had at home, which he had been perusing with the vague notion of finding a particular someone a gift. A gift he hoped would not find use on him.)

Falman said, "So we've covered both Havoc and Hawkeye, but what about you, sir?"

Broken out of his reverie, Mustang focused his attention on his oldest officer. "Me? What about me?"

"You have been acting differently as of late as well, sir," Falman said, matter-of-factly, "And I don't feel that it's all entirely due to the late General Hughes."

"Oh, right," Roy replied. He began pacing again as a way to stall for time. What was he going to tell them? It wasn't that he didn't trust them. On the contrary, he

trusted them with his life, but what he didn't trust was who else might be listening in headquarters.

Again the colonel was saved by someone, this time though it was Havoc. "You probably ain't gonna believe this, but I set the colonel up with someone."

All eyes swiveled toward Havoc. Breda gave him an appraising look and then to everyone's amazement pulled Fuery and Falman down into a huddle. They spoke in hushed whispers with the occasional phrases like "No luck with women," "Even hookers won't..." and "like kissing an ashtray" emerging from the circle.

After about a minute they broke and Breda delivered their verdict. "We still have some doubts as to your ability to find yourself a date, let alone find one for the colonel," he took a deep breath and continued, "However, we are tentatively prepared to accept your statement, Havoc."

"You tentatively accept my statement!" The man in question flushed with embarassment and glared at the three officers. "Some damn friends you are!"

Roy watched his subordinates with amusement. Their antics drained away some of the anger he felt earlier. Eventually he decided that Havoc had had enough torture and he intervened. "What Havoc says is true," he ignored the surprised glances of his other subordinates, "He did indeed set me up with a wonderful woman who I've been seeing steadily for awhile now."

Falman's eyebrows rose. "Would we know her, sir?"

Shaking his head quickly, Roy said, "No, no, she works at a uh..." He had to think quickly, but strangely all he could think about was his pressing need for his girlfriend's "cookies."

"A bakery," he said hurriedly, "She works at a bakery on the other side of town."

Fuery smiled. "Congratulations, sir! What's her name?"

Several potential names flew threw his head and he said the first one that came to mind. "Florence," the expectant looks caused him to continue, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "Florence Wilhemina Baptista Oglethorpington," he finished, regretting the name as soon as it left his mouth.

Havoc, Ed and even Al stared at him in horror. Roy smiled sheepishly. "Er, most people just call her Flo."

"Oh yeah, nice save, Flamey," Ed muttered before being jabbed in the side by his brother.

"Anyway," the colonel continued, paying no head to the comments from the short, blond peanut gallery next to him, "That still doesn't change the fact that you men did cause quite a bit of trouble today with all your loose talk."

"But, sir...!" Breda began to protest but was stopped by his superior's upraised hand.

"No buts, Breda," Roy said, "I appreciate what you all thought you were doing, but the way you went about was wrong. No, I'm afraid all four of you will have to be punished."

Havoc and Breda gulped, Falman frowned and Fuery started to tremble slightly.

Roy began to pace. He rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "What to do...?" he asked. Slowly his trademark smirk formed and his pacing slowed. "I have it!" he declared, turning toward his cowed officers.

"Breda, Falman and Fuery, you are to leave here and report to the kitchen where you will be put to work peeling any and all potatoes that the kitchen staff need for the evening meal. None of you will be permitted to leave until all of the potatoes have been peeled."

The colonel's statements were met with a groan from Breda, a frown from Falman and a grimace from Fuery.

"Furthermore," Roy continued, "For the rest of the week you three will do your paperwork in the morning, have lunch, then immediately report to the kitchens where you will again practice the time honored military tradition of spud-skinning. Your shifts will not end until every necessary potato has been peeled."

This time his orders were met with groans from all around.

He turned and faced his smoker subordinate, "Havoc, since you are only marginally involved in this, your punishment will be lighter then the others. You are hereby ordered to spend every lunch this week reviewing last year's budget reports in the Records department." Roy thought for a moment. "Have Private Sciezka help you. I believe she's the one who filed them all."

Havoc hung his head, ostensibly in shame, but really it was to hide the grin he knew was pricking at the corners of his lips.

Finally stopping his pacing, the colonel's gaze took in four of his subordinates. "Do you all understand your orders?"

All four snapped to attention and saluted. "Yes, sir!" they said in unison.

Roy gave them a curt nod. "Good, then you are all dismissed."

Dropping their hands and shoulders, all four filed out the door.

"This is your fault, Breda!" Falman whispered fiercely, "You're the one who said he was dating Armstrong!"

"Me!" Breda answered, "Fuery's the little perv who suggested the colonel was having threesomes with Armstrong and Sergeant Johnson!"

Fuery paled, but any response he made was lost as Roy shut the door behind them.

The Flame Alchemist turned around to find the Fullmetal Alchemist facing him with crossed arms and an irritated expression. "Don't you think you were kind of hard on Fuery, Falman and Breda? They were just trying to help you!"

"Brother, don't..." Al warned halfheartedly. He knew it was pretty much a lost cause trying to nip Ed in the bud when he was fired up about something, but that didn't stop him from trying.

Heading toward his desk and letting out a sigh of relief as he fell into his chair, Roy said, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Fullmetal."

Ed's eye's narrowed and he pointed at the door. "You pretty much give Havoc free rein to spend lunch with his girlfriend while the others are sentenced to extra long shifts peeling potatoes!"

Roy sighed and shifted some of the papers on his desk. "Fullmetal, do you know when the kitchen staff starts their shifts?"

"Not really," Ed replied, slightly confused by the colonel's change in direction.

"They come in at five in the morning," Roy said as he made neat little piles of reports, "Now considering that the kitchen staff has been working for seven hours or so already, exactly how many potatoes do you think will be left to peel by the time those three report down there?"

Understanding began to dawn on the Elrics. "And since you told them they could get off work once they were done..." Al said.

Roy nodded, "Essentially, I've given them leave to knock off early every day this week."

The elder Elric stared in surprise at the colonel. Frankly, he was stunned that the lazy-good-for-nothing-Colonel-Matchstick was able to quickly improvise such a neat solution that was fair to everyone. Maybe the man would make a decent Fuhrer after all. "How exactly do you know all this?"

The colonel shot Ed an annoyed look. "I do read the reports that end up on my desk, Fullmetal."

Ed snorted. "You mean lately you've been reading them all."

"Whatever," Roy shrugged, "Well, I think it's about time we got back to your briefing don't you?"

Sighing in exasperation, Ed replied, "Look, we're going to do the same thing we always do when we're in town: Do research at the Central Library until we find a new lead then head off again. We'll let you know where we're going before we leave."

He turned to exit but was stopped in his tracks by Roy. "Not so fast, Fullmetal."

Ed turned around and glared at the his superior officer. "Yeah?"

"I'm afraid you can't go to the library yet, I have a job for you," Roy said, "Internal Affairs is moving to another office and they need help shifting some of the files. I volunteered your services."

"What?" Ed cried, "No way! Pull one of your stooges off of potato duty and get them to do it!"

Al raised his hand. "Uh, sir? Why don't I go do it? Then brother can start working in the library, and I'll join him when I'm done."

Mustang shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, Alphonse, but these are classified files. Only someone of Captain rank or higher has the necessary security level to even touch them. Only Edward and myself are high enough to do the job."

"So why don't you do it then?" Ed asked, his voice full of sarcasm, "Or are you afraid you'll get a paper cut?"

Roy rested his head in his hand and regarded his young subordinate with a slight smirk. "Because I have to do paperwork, and I'm not about to let you have a shot at getting my reward for completing it."

Ed blushed crimson and looked down at the floor. The memory of walking in on said "reward" and the image of Mustang's rear end would forever be burned in the boy's brain . "I wouldn't want it anyway," he said.

"If it was Winry that'd be a different story," Al said, just low enough for Ed to hear.

The elder Elric shot his brother a withering look. "Shut up, Al!" he hissed. Desperate to distract the colonel from his brother's comment, Ed said, "Fine, I'll do your stupid chore. It better not take too long."

"It probably won't take any longer then an hour," Roy answered, "Then you can go meet with Hawkeye at lunch and hit the library in the afternoon."

Ed gave a curt nod and turned to leave. He paused at the door. "Al, I'll meet you in the cafeteria, okay?"

Al nodded, and Ed left. Al moved to follow him, but Roy speaking brought him up short.

With a knowing smirk and an amused glint in his eye, Roy addressed the boy, "Alphonse, I was wondering if you could help me with something...?"

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"Winry, where did you put that shipment of screws we got yesterday?" Pinako asked as she walked toward the workshop. "Winry?" Soft snores warned her why the girl wasn't answering even before she entered the room.

Her granddaughter was still where she had been when Pinako had retired for the night; except now the girl was fast asleep on top of a newly finished arm and a myriad of small tools. Gently Pinako lifted her granddaughter's head and removed an Allen wrench that was poking out of the pile and would likely have left quite an impression in the morning.

"This girl..." Pinako said, sighing in exasperation, "Up late every night, working on automail."

Her granddaughter always was incredibly single-minded in her devotion to things she loved, whether it was automail or a person. She just wished a particular young, idiot shrimp would get that through his thick skull and finally notice just how Winry felt about him.

Many were the times that Pinako had to resist the urge to knock some sense into the boy. She smiled sadly. "Of course, if that was all that fool child needed then Winry and her wrench would have set him straight years ago," she said."

Already knowing what she would see, but still curious, she carefully lifted up the bottom of the shoulder joint. A quick check of the serial number confirmed her suspicions. "I knew it," she whispered as she gently laid the joint back down.

Out of the many patients that Winry had worked with over the years, only one ever had automail whose serial number began with "E" and "D."

Pinako draped a blanket over the sleeping girl, then quietly made her way to the door. Before turning off the light she glanced back at Winry and sighed. "For your sake, child, I hope he wises up soon."

Flipping off the light and shutting the door, Pinako left her granddaughter to the sleep she so desperately needed.

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Author's Indulgence

It's been awhile, eh? I'm sorry it has been, but frankly, life gets in the way sometimes. Also, if I don't really want to write, I'm not going to force myself to, because then the writing turns out badly.

Part of the problem as well, was the monster scene in the middle of the chapter here. It wasn't in my original plan, and I would have forgotten it entirely, but I think it's a good illustration of what Mustang's relationship with his other subordinates is like.

I've taken a liking to Breda lately so he may have a bit more of a role than he previously was supposed to.

Anyway:

--Thanks to the cast, crew and creators of the Fullmetal Alchemist anime and manga.

--Thanks to Snakecharmerfoxx, for the beta / pre-read, reassurance, etc.

--Thanks to my husband who has again abandoned me for soccer (Super Cup this time) and occasionally Nascar.

--Thanks to all those who read and review or leave feedback, including those from the Royai thread in the forums. Hi, Melenvir!

And thanks to you for reading.

Next time: Hawkeye has a proposal for Al. And speaking of Al, just what are he and Roy planning? Could it really be to set Ed up with Greta the Lunchlady? Does Ed really find Greta's unibrow sexy or is he just in it for the food?

Find out on the next thrilling chapter of "A Confusing Midday!"

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Anne Packrat (August 4, 2007)