Chapter 1

"Dogs are evil," Edward Elric informed his younger brother darkly.

Al raised an eyebrow, bemused at this out-of-the-blue statement. His older brother was scowling heavily at the direction of a very contented Den warmly snuggled in Winry's arms on the rug at the other end of the living room.

"Look at that shameless creature," Ed muttered, glowering at the happy canine. If looks could kill, Den would have been burned into doggy crisp by now. "Look at that! He's probably getting her affection now as a-a-a trophy and then he'd stomp on her heart and find another gullible woman to cuddle with! That manipulative, no-good, evil, lecherous, old-"

"Nii-san, are you talking about Den or Colonel Mustang now?" Al inquired, alarmed. Ed usually reserved that particular 'manipulative-evil-lecherous-etc-etc' rant especially for the colonel whenever he decides to dump all the leftover paperwork on Ed so he could leave the office in time for yet another date.

"I'm talking about that lechourous dog, you idiot!" Ed growled, golden eyes still burning holes into a happily oblivious and very comfortable Den. "That stupid, bloody, dimwitted, underhand, scheming, womanizing flea magnet! He's so-so-so-"

"-so adorable?" Al smirked, comprehension dawning on him at last.

"He is NOT adorable!" shrieked a disgusted Ed. "Oh God, not you too, Al! You're fallen under the spell of that lecherous dog! Am I the only one who realizes the true, evil nature of this creature? WAKE UP AL!"

"Nii-san!" Al yelled, trying to fend off his brother who was slapping him hard on the face and continuously screaming, "Snap out of it! Snap out of it! Snap out of it! Dog is evil! Snap out of it!"

"NII-SAN!" Al hollered. He sighed inwardly. He had just gotten his body back and he did not want red hand-shaped marks decorating his face. People would assume he was a-a-a perverted peeping tom or something!

Winry raised her eyebrows at the very odd picture of the elder Elric slapping the younger Elric on the face. She wasn't near enough to hear what they were both screaming about but knowing Edward Elric, she was much better off not knowing.

Al growled in impatience and dragged his kicking, screaming and slapping brother out of the living room and up into their room. Ed had calmed down by then but he was still muttering darkly about lecherous dogs under his breath.

"Nii-san," Al sighed, partly in exasperation and partly in amusement. "Are you actually feeling jealous of a dog?"

His brother paused dramatically in a mid-rant about scheming dogs who manipulated the hearts of innocent, young girls.

Al watched with rather sadistic amusement. First, his brother gapped open mouthed as his brain processed this simple statement. Then, as his brain correctly interpreted and reinterpreted the information, his face would flush abnormally red. After a few seconds of soundless, red-faced gaping, then came the loud, aggressive, violent denies.

"Hmm, it seems nii-san has problems expressing his affections towards Winry so he channels it in rage and jealousy," Al thought, inwardly, somehow ignoring his brother's suspiciously shrill yells of denial. It was just a matter of getting used to it, as Al told many people who inquired about his unnerving ability to endure his brother's infamous rants without feeling the need to smash his head against a wall. The trick was to think about kitties and chocolates and sunshine and kitties and marshmallows and kitties.

"-I ask you Al, why would I be jealous of that disgusting, drooling creature? Huh? HUH? I have absolutely NO reason to be jealous! That's right! You heard me! I'll show you I'm better than that thing! That thing is not worthy of my jealousy! Your brain probably got screwed by that evil dog as well because there is just NO WAY IN HELL I'M JEALOUS OF THAT DOG! YOU HEAR ME, ALPHONSE ELRIC? YOU HEAR ME?"

"Yes, nii-san, loud and shrill," Al muttered under his breath. He was thinking hard. His brother needed help…he really needed help. Al wasn't exactly savvy either when girls were the subject. No, he needed an experienced person. One who had bravely endured the battlefield of oddities and mood swings of women. One whose skills with women surpassed the level of any living mortal man. Yes, the perfect person for this dilemma was….

"What brings you over here to Central, Alphonse?" Roy Mustang asked, pouring some tea for the younger Elric in his office.

"I need your help, colonel," Al said, straightforwardly. No time to go beating around the bush. Al had tried to go to Central alone but his brother insisted on following. Al tried to deter his brother by saying that he was really going to attend a kitty convention in Central but Ed said something vaguely like 'killer kittens' and obstinately held his ground. Al guessed this had something to do with an incident involving Ed babysitting eleven energetic kittens a few months ago.

Up to now, Ed still flinched at the mention of the words: Cat, Kitten and Feline. The only reason why he could sneak off to see the colonel now was because he told his brother he needed to use the bathroom.

"Yes?" asked Mustang, curiously. Al blurted out the story in less than a minute.

'Well, well, well," smirked Mustang "Little Edward's finally reached that age, hasn't he?"

"Ehehehe," Al scratched his head "Guess so."

"Of course I would help you! You know I'm always there for my subordinates!" Mustang flashed a suspiciously charming grin.

Al grinned thankfully in return. "So how do we help him?"

"Fullmetal needs some hands on experience," replied Mustang, nodding wisely. "He is severely lacking tact, sensitivity, patience and of course…skill in this delicate area. At the rate he's going with Miss Rockbell, he'd end up with more concussions than dates..."

Al agreed ruefully. He knew deep down inside Ed cared Winry very much but he just had problems expressing it. His brother had gotten so good at hiding his feelings that now he had problems with expressing his feelings instead.

"Do whatever it takes, colonel. I want nii-san to be happy," Al stated firmly.

Ed sneezed in a café somewhere in Central. He rubbed his nose and slurped his drink noisily, ignoring disapproving sniffs from the stuck-up lady sitting at the next table. Ed wondered vaguely what was taking Al so long in the bathroom. He hoped Al was alright in there...he knew Al shouldn't have drunk two cups of milk that morning. Milk was evil…almost as evil as lecherous dogs….

"Ah, Edward Elric! What an astonishing coincidence!" boomed a horribly familiar voice. Ed winced, hoping against hope that it wasn't….

No, those are not pink sparkles…

No, those are not overly bulging muscles gleaming freakishly under the sun…

No, those are not customers rolling around screaming and clutching their eyes in agony.

No! No! No! NO!

"Edward Elric!" rumbled Alex Armstrong, joyously. He wrapped the horrified young alchemist into a rib-cracking hug.

"I-I can't-can't breathe-" Ed managed to choke, his arms and legs flailing around desperately. He was lifted a clean five inches off the ground.

"Where have you been?" cried Armstrong, hugging the now-turning-purple boy tighter. "I can't imagine why you didn't stop by for a visit in ages!"

"I-I can't imagine why either-" Ed choked, he somehow managed a sarcastic comment with his air circulation blocked.

Armstrong put the boy down and wiped his gushing tears with a pink handkerchief. Ed sighed in relief. All the other customers were shielding their eyes from the sparkling sight.

"Ummnn, would you kindly tell your daddy to put his shirt on?" a mortified waiter whispered to an even more mortified Ed,

"He is not my father!" Ed hissed back, horrified. Ed shook his head in disbelief, making a mental note to never come back to this café if they thought he was related to that overly muscled freak. He would never ever come back to this café again……

"Oh," the waiter regarded Ed awkwardly for a moment before continuing, "In that case, would you kindly tell your boyfriend to put his shirt on?"

……or he could just blow up the whole damn café into dust…….

"Why on earth would you think he's my boyfriend?" inquired Ed, eyes twitching violently. Hey! Looks like the anger management course Al made him join was working! He wasn't massacring the waiter into bloody lumps of meat…yet. Meanwhile, Armstrong was somehow interpreting the screams of revolution and horror as screams of applause and approval because he beamed and continued to flex his muscles even more.

The waiter, unaware the fate of the café rested in his hands uncomfortably mumbled, "Well, he was cuddling you half naked…."

…..yep, definitely blowing up the whole damn café into dust….

Anger management never came out with the scenario: "What if you were in a café and utterly unfairly accused of having a sick and wrong relationship with a man who waxes his horrifically humongous muscles everyday until you could practically see your reflection in them?"

So….it was technically not his fault if he blew up the café into oblivion…right?

Right! So, now then….

"YOU SICK, PERVERTED BASTARD! DO I LOOK LIKE A-A-A PERSON WHO WOULD DATE GUYS? HUH? HOW DARE YOU CALL ME AN ULTRA SHORT, SUPER SISSY, GIRLISH LTTLE MIDGET WHO IS TOO SHORT TO GET GIRLS SO HE GETS GUYS INSTEAD?"

"But-but-but-but-" stuttered the poor terrified butler, clutching the tea tray like a shield.

"OOOH, SO YOU SAY THAT SHORT GUYS AREN'T GOOD LOOKING ENOUGH! FINE THEN! PREPARE TO BE CRUSHED UNTIL EVERY DROP OF BLOOD OOZES OUT, EVERY BIT OF BONE GROUNDED TO DUST, EVERY CELL, EVERY NERVE, EVERY BIT OF SKIN, EVERY STRAND OF HAIR, EVERY-"

"Calm down, Fullmetal, or the military would have to pay the bill for the therapy of yet another traumatized victim,"

"Co-Colonel Bastard!" Ed screamed in shock. The 'Colonel Bastard' in question had seemingly just emerged from a bakery clutching a bag of donuts.

Mustang scowled deeply, "Fullmetal. Do you not remember chapter eleven, verse nine hundred and sixty five in the military guideline that clearly states that you must respect the officers that hold a higher rank than you?"

"Eh, there was a military guideline?" Ed scratched his head. Mustang was convinced he did this on purpose to aggravate him.

"It's not surprising you couldn't remember. After all, your memory is as short as you are anyway," Mustang replied, smirking.

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING A PUNY, TINY MIDGET WHO IS SMALL ENOUGH TO GET BLOWN OVER TO ISHBAL BY A SINGLE GUST OF WIND?" roared Ed, predictably "AND FOR YOUR INFORMATION, I GREW HALF AN INCH THIS WEEK! HAH!"

"So your height now should be around….an inch and a half?"

"NO!" Ed screamed back. This was definitely not his day. He had bumped into two of the people he least wanted to see in Central all in a day! In hardly twenty minutes since he arrived! In the same place!

Armstrong deflected the warm, friendly greetings of the Flame Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist with a passionate roar, "Roy Mustang! You look pale and peaky, colonel. You should consider working out more to obtain a beautiful and finely-carved body…like mine!"

"Noooooo," moaned the other customers as Armstong proceeded to flex his shinning muscles in every possible angle once again. A shower or pink sparkles lit up the entire café.

"….Fullmetal, what are you trying to do with that fork?"

"Shut up, Colonel Bastard. I'm trying to gouge my eyes out,"

"…Give me that fork, Fullmetal. I think I need to gauge out my eyes too."

"Wait for your turn, idiot,"

"Chapter hundred and three, verse forty eight: You should give priority to the health and sanity of your superiors. And if I see those freakish muscles flex another time I'd loose my health and my sanity,"

"Odd, I thought you lost your sanity a long time ago,"

"..Just give me the bloody fork and I'll forget that comment,"

"No,"

"Fullmetal, I'm quite prepared to fight to my death to obtain that fork,"

"Bring it on, Colonel Bastard!"

Just around the corner, Al groaned as he watched the unfolding drama between the two alchemists.

That night at an inn, Alphonse Elric suffered yet another long and heated 'bastard-colonel-rant' from his brother who was spouting a bloody nose from his battle-la-grande with the colonel over a……..fork. Thank goodness Riza Hawkeye showed up with her trusty gun.

"Nii-san, calm down or your nose will start bleeding again," Al said, his patience wearing thin.

"Brilliant! Maybe if it bleeds enough I would die of blood loss and I wouldn't have to see that smug I-am-twenty-million-leagues- better-than-you-pipsqueak moron colonel tomorrow!" Ed snapped "That jerk is making me report to his office tomorrow morning and we're still on a friggin' holiday!"

"Just go and see him, nii-san. It must be really urgent for the colonel to call you back during a holiday," said Al, calmly though his legendary gentleness and patience was evaporating bit by bit.

"Urgent! That's a good one! Remember the time he made us hurry back all the way to Central because of an 'emergency' during an important mission to just get him some cookies?" Ed demanded.

"He said the cookies were crucial for his latest experiment," Al defended, somewhat lamely.

"An experiment on how far he can push the Fullmetal Alchemist before he ends up six foot under in a metal box filled with pythons?"

"Nii-san," Al rubbed his eyes, exasperated. Oh, the things he did for his brother.

"No, Al. I've seen enough of that bastard's face to last me an entire lifetime when I was busy shoving my fist into it at the café,"

"Nii-san," Al repeated, showing his best adorable-little-brother-who-is-disappointed-in-his-mean-older-brother glare.

"Damnit Al! Don't give me that pathetic look!" Ed pointedly looked away and glared at the wall.

"Nii-san," Al dredged up his very-adorable-little-brother-who-is-very-disappointed-in-his-very-mean-older-brother glare.

"All right! Fine! Whatever!" Ed cracked like an egg. "I'll see that bastard colonel tomorrow and if his reason for making me see him is anything less than his life being in mortal danger, in which I would find very entertaining, I will personally make sure his face will forever bear the imprint of my fist, my metal fist."

"Nii-san," Al scrunched up his extremely-adorable-little-brother-who-is-extremely-disappointed- in-his-extremely-mean-older-brother glare.

"Al, you're pushing it. May I at least break both his legs if it turns out to be another poke-fun-at-the-midget fiesta?"

"One leg,"

"Deal,"

Ed stomped in his usual oh-so-cheery manner into the Headquarters the next day. Various officers unfortunate enough to get into his way found themselves trembling at the heavy scowl and the steady stream of obscenities flowing freely from his mouth. Each officer proudly admitted later on to their disbelieving colleagues that they had learnt fifty new swear words from this inspiring young man.

"Yo, boss," greeted a surprised Havoc, clutching a mug of coffee "I thought you were on holiday."

"So did I," Ed mumbled under his breath, his scowl darkening. It pleased his sadistic streak to see the stacks and stacks of paperwork piled magnificently on every desk. At least he wasn't the only one suffering.

Riza Hawkeye seemed to be surprised to see Ed as well. This bothered Ed very much. If Mustang called Ed to his office for an official reason, Riza must've known about it, right?

Ed let himself into the colonel's office in his usual polite little way. Mustang winced slightly behind his desk at the resounding crash. He sighed; the door was brand new! Ah well, at least it wasn't him paying for the damages, thank goodness.

"What the hell do you want, bastard?" Ed demanded in a way of greeting. He scowled and plopped himself heavily onto one of the leather couches.

"Why, good morning to you too, Fullmetal," Mustang greeted, sarcastically "Do you feel an overwhelming need to wreck my door every time you drop by for a visit to my office?"

"It's not my fault you cheapskates use cheap doors," Ed replied, crudely.

"Ah yes, I forgot you must announce your presence in the loudest way fathomable. After all, that's the only way people can sense your tiny being. One must rely on one's sense of hearing when one's sense of sight fails,"

" MUSTANG!" screamed Ed, enraged. The colonel leaned back and sighed in sadistic satisfaction at the tirade of foul words, swears and curses. A visit from Ed was never complete without baiting a shortness-induced rant from him. Not that it was difficult of course……

After Ed used every swear word in the book and had creatively invented a few more, he had to stop his impressive rant due to the lack of air.

"Now that we had got that over with, let's go on to the reason why I called you to see me during your holiday, yes, Fullmetal, I get that well-stressed point,"

Ed waited apprehensively. Was it another cookie mission? Was it another trip to get the latest edition of some sappy shoujo manga? Was it yet another expedition to get the limited edition of the newest brand of hair conditioner from a shop full of squabbling ladies who all seemed to want the same brand as the colonel?

"Fullmetal, you are no longer a boy, though your size has probably deluded many of that particular fact," Mustang began, smoothly.

"Shove it, Mustang," replied Ed, sullenly.

Mustang ignored him and went on, "When a boy turns into a man, even a short one; a powerful and sacred knowledge is passed onto him in order to carry the proud legacy of men. An ancient secret passed down through thousands of generations. Many heroes had sacrificed themselves in order to obtain this powerful knowledge."

-Insert spotlight on Mustang here-

Ed didn't even notice the jibe at his height. He was rather awed at what Mustang was saying. What sacred knowledge? What ancient secret? He unconsciously leaned forward in anticipation.

"It is known as the noble art of….." Mustang paused for dramatic effect.

Ed's golden eyes were wide with curiosity and eagerness.

"………flirting,"

-Insert Hallelujah chorus here-

Ed's jaw dropped as he gawked at the colonel in a mixture of disbelief and incredulity. He inwardly checked over and over again if he heard right. Damn, he did heard right! Flirting?

"Wha-Wha-Wha-Wha-WHAT?" Es spluttered, evidently still trying to regain his power of comprehensible speech.

Mustang scowled in impatience. He worked so hard to achieve the correct dramatic effect and that ungrateful shrimp was ruining it! If it were Havoc or Breda, they would be stomping their feet by now and screaming, "Amen, brother!" or something.

"Yes, Fullmetal, flir-ting," Mustang repeated, slowly "Mostly, guys your age, thought not necessarily your height, would already have an extensive database on this particular field by now. You however, are remarkably dense and oblivious on this crucial subject."

Ed was still gaping in silent shock; shocked enough to let the short taunt slip through.

Mustang continued, "So, you need an experienced expert to guide you through this treacherous path. Out of my deep generosity, I will share my secrets and my perfected techniques to you. Something many men –coughHavoccough- will kill to obtain."

The message finally seeped into Ed's thick skull. His face went bright red and he screamed, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU CALL ME BACK ON MY HOLIDAY TO DISCUSS FLIRTING? GET A BLOODY LIFE! DO I LOOK LIKE SOME SORT OF PERVERTED WOMANIZER? DO I LOOK AS IF I ACTUALLY WANT TO LEARN YOUR CORNY TECHNIQUES? NO! SO IF YOU EXCUSE ME, I'LL LEAVE NOW SO YOU CAN ENTERTAIN YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS IN PEACE, YOU SICK, PERVERTED BASTARD!"

Ed banged his fists violently into the colonel's expensive, real-oak desk. Mustang stared in dismay at the dents and the huge cracks. The desk was also brand new due to a certain incident involving trying to burn paperwork on a wooden desk a few weeks ago. Oh, the joys of military expenses.

Ed turned to stomp out of the office. Mustang smirked and called out, "Denial is always the first step, Fullmetal."

"I am NOT in denial," Ed roared, infuriated.

"If you say so" Mustang smirked again "You're just too chicken to accept my training, aren't you? What? You scared it'll be too hard for your delicate, tiny body?"

"WHAT?" Ed yelled, face twitching in anger "I'm not friggin' scared of you, bastard! And I am NOT delicate and tiny!"

"Prove it,"

"Gaarrrrghhhhh!" Ed was caught neatly in the trap.

"Well, Fullmetal Pipsqueak?"

"FINE!" exploded Ed, banging his fists on the desk once more. Mustang stared in delight at the amount of paperwork that got destroyed in the process.

"Good, see you tomorrow. I'll pick you up from the inn," Mustang said, briefly. He looked at Ed straight in the eye and continued, "You'd probably thank me in the end. I know Miss Rockbell would, at any rate."

Ed gaped at the colonel and flushed bright red. Why was everyone assuming that he liked that violent wrench-banging girl? First Al, now the colonel. Joy! Waaiiiit a minute………

The colonel found out –no- assumed he liked Winry just after Al mentioned the very same thing just before they went to Central. Ed mentally put two and two together and stomped out of the office, muttering something about little brothers who would soon wish they were still in a strong, metal armor where they couldn't feel any pain.

That night at the inn………….

"………Nii-san?" Al called out, timidly.

"What?"

"May I come down now? It's getting cold up here on the roof,"

"No. Suffer up there in the cold,"

"Yes, nii-san," Al sighed, rubbing his numb hands together.

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