'I hate Christmas' Roy murmured. He had his reasons for this; when he was a child, he never got the gifts he wanted, now Havoc was always faster to catch Riza under mistletoe… maybe you can say it's not enough to hate Christmas, but for Roy it was. He hated Christmas since his childhood, when his little sister always got what she asked for and he never did. Another reason was that he felt disappointed and cheated when he found out that Santa doesn't exist – in the age of twelve.

Roy watched heatedly his subordinates, hanging Christmas decorations. He tried to hide his irritation in work, but nothing could escape the Hawk's Eye.

'Oh, look! Our Colonel wants to be better for Christmas, too!' Riza said happily. Roy gasped with anger and crushed his pen.

'First Lieutenant, please don't get me wrong. I'm NOT better for Christmas. I just work so that I don't see you all overexcited about some flashy crap like Christmas. I hate Christmas. Please leave me alone and please DON'T put this shit on my desk' Roy pushed a little Christmas tree back to Riza. She had never seen him so irritated before. Roy took another pen and went on working. His subordinates shrugged and continued their job.

Roy came back home. Oh, bloody damned Christmas… Christmas decorations all over the city, Christmas carols played in every shop, and this irritating "Merry Christmas!" from any stranger he sees…

He realized he was singing, too. It was this song he was singing back then on Christmas, when he was injured…

'Dashing through the sand, look at them dying far, and make some nasty plan for Christmas in Ishvar…'

He quite liked this song – well, much more than other Christmas carols. Because of these all decorations, carols and so on, he wished all the Christmas trees got termites. His little flat was all Christmas-free. Nothing even reminded of a Christmas decoration. It was all quiet and calm. Roy hated this silence, so he started humming. He didn't turn on his radio, because he knew he would get nothing more but only Christmas carols. This all made him feel sick. He never sent or read Christmas cards; he threw them all away. He never cared. He made himself some tea and drank it all. No sugar, just some lemon juice and some ginger. He gave up buying newspapers for the time around Christmas; there was never anything interesting.

Suddenly the phone rang. Almost sure that it's again Hughes wanting to tell him how sweet Elicia looked talking to a Santa, Roy answered.

'Hello, it's Roy Mustang here' he said.

'Hello, Roy, it's Riza. I'd like to invite you to the Christmas party at mine…'

'Oh… Riza, I'd love to visit you, but I'm afraid I won't be a good mate on Christmas party. You know, I… don't like Christmas…'

'But why?'

'It's not something I'd like to discuss on phone, really. I don't celebrate Christmas and I actually hate it…'

'But why? There must be at least one good thing about Christmas…'

'Oh yeah' Roy smiled. 'There is one good thing about Christmas.'

'See? So what's this thing?'

'It's only once a year' Roy sighed.