A/N: Heh, this was just a random idea. I have no comment for this. Enjoy~ :P
(This is unbeta'd so tell me if you see any errors?)

DISCLAIMER: Nope, I don't own FMA.

Generally speaking, the Flame Alchemist and Fullmetal Alchemist had two types of arguments. The first type consisted of their usual bickering, which was actually just Roy calling Edward short and speaking to him in that aggravatingly condescending way, and Ed ranting and yelling and incorporating more curse words into the Colonel's name than should be possible.

Those arguments were normal and happened nearly every time the two met. But then there were the explosive, violent arguments. Those were the ones to fear. The ones where Ed actually managed to push the smug Colonel to the point where he would actually snap and yell back. These arguments tended to result in burned rooms and things being set on fire, while other objects were disfigured by Ed's alchemy. It also resulted in Roy's subordinates cowering beneath their desks in fear, until Riza pointed her gun at the two childish alchemists and calmly told them to knock it off, sometimes firing a warning shot or two for good measure.

Today, Roy's staff realized, the conditions seemed to be perfect. Another of those infamous explosive arguments was imminent.

It was Second Lieutenant Havoc's fault, the others would claim, for it was he who had worsened the Colonel's already grumpy mood that morning.

It had been raining all morning, and Roy hated the rain. It was cold, wet, depressing, and it rendered his flame alchemy useless.

He stalked into the office moodily, glaring at his subordinates, daring them, 'Go on and taunt me, it's raining and I can't do a thing to defend myself the second I leave this building.'

Of course, it was Havoc who ultimately couldn't resist. "Hey, Colonel, think you could light me a—oh, wait, you're a wet matchstick today, huh? Right, sorry. Never mind, then."

Seething, Roy slipped on his gloves—perfectly dry, mind you—and set Havoc'd desk ablaze before striding into his office and slamming the door shut behind him.

Havoc put out the fire, lamenting over his desk's newly-scorched surface. "Geez, he's worse than usual," he grumbled.

"Perhaps because Edward is due to report today," Riza pointed out calmly. "Goodness knows there will be endless mockery from him."

Everyone froze as they remembered that Ed, indeed, was supposed to arrive today. Ed, probably tired from his trip and annoyed about having to report on his stupid mission, and Roy, who was in a dangerous mood because of the rain and Havoc's teasing, together in the same room?

"We're doomed," whimpered Fuery, voicing the thoughts of all the occupants in the room—save for Riza, that is.

"This is Havoc's fault," Breda accused, pointing.

Havoc held his hands up. "Hey, how was I supposed to know that the Chief was comin' in today?" he asked. "Anyways, I blame the rain."

"You should have known better than to piss him off on a rainy day."

"He was asking for it! That look was clearly saying, 'Go on and taunt me, it's raining and I can't do a thing to defend myself the second I leave this building!'"

Breda crossed his arms, clearly skeptical. "Oh, and you're an expert on reading the Colonel's glares all of a sudden?"

"Just telling it like it is."

"Get back to work, men," Riza ordered warningly, already tired of the bickering. Though they were probably right, she realized. An explosive argument was probably on its way. She sighed. I need to buy more ammo.

The group dutifully returned to their work, falling into an uncomfortable silence as they waited for The Inevitable.

"The Inevitable" came about half an hour later as the door flew open and Edward, on time for once, stomped into the room, obviously in a mood so unpleasant that it rivaled Roy's.

"Oh, hey, Chief!" Havoc greeted a bit nervously.

Ed ignored him, walking stiffly across the room.

"Good morning, Edward," said Riza.

"Morning," muttered Ed as he approached the door to Roy's office and pushed it open.

To say that Roy was having a bad day was an understatement. To say that Roy was having a terrible day would be more accurate. And why was he having a terrible day? Well, for starters, it was raining—enough said. Secondly, Roy had woken up late and had dashed out of his house as soon as he had changed into his uniform, consequently skipping breakfast. And then there had been an accident on the wet, busy roads, and Roy had been stuck in an eternity of traffic. And when he'd finally dragged his miserable self into the office, Havoc had mocked him about the rain.

It was too much.

Oh, and let's not forget the fact that the most annoying, bratty, hot-headed, annoying, rude, disrespectful, annoying alchemist in the military was supposed to come report in a few hours (technically half an hour, but Fullmetal was always late with his reports). Wonderful. Icing on the cake.

At least he might be able to vent some of his anger by pissing Ed off. And so Roy spent his morning figuring out ways to call his young subordinate short while he pretended to read his paperwork and signed wherever he needed to.

The door creaked open about thirty minutes later. Assuming it was Havoc—Riza wasn't due to bring him more paperwork until afternoon—Roy lifted his hands and snapped without looking. Years of practice allowed him to confidently do this, knowing that the flame would appear close enough to startle the entrant but far enough into the room that it wouldn't burn them, no matter how fast they walked.

"I am not useless!" he snapped.

"Dammit, Colonel, I never said you were!"

Roy looked up at the unexpected voice and saw Ed treading cautiously into the room, kicking the door shut after he entered.

"What the hell are you hurling flames at me for?"

Quickly collecting himself, Roy avoided answering the question and instead said, "Fullmetal. You're here early."

"You said to come in at eleven," grumbled Edward. "It's eleven, isn't it?"

"Of course it is," Roy agreed smoothly. "But everyone knows that your brain lives in a timezone three hours behind the rest of us."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT HE COULD LIVE IN THE DRAWER OF A DESK IF HE WANTED TO?" hollered Ed.

Wondering how the hell he even thought that Roy had said anything even remotely similar to that, he replied, "No one. Though now that you mention it, renowned Shortmetal Alchemist, Shorty of the People, and shortest State Alchemist in the history of Amestris, I do believe there is someone in my immediate vicinity who matches that short description of yours." He glanced around. "Hm? Fullmetal? Where did you go—oh, there you are. So sorry, Fullmetal. I didn't see you behind all this paperwork."

Edward, who had been looking angrier and angrier after each of Roy's words, exploded, "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING A HALF-PINT BEAN SPROUT ULTRA MIDGET SHRIMP WHO'S SO SMALL HE COULD BE A SUB-PARTICLE TO A SUBATOMIC PARTICLE?"

"Hm...let me think..." Roy smirked. "You."

Ed took a massive breath, but instead of expending it on another of his rants, he let it out slowly. He did that three times, then threw his report on Roy's desk. "Just read the damn report," he muttered.

What, was their traditional arguing going to end so soon? That would be a shame; listening to Ed's silly rants was cheering Roy up. "What's this?" the Colonel asked as he picked up the report. "Have you been taking anger management classes to deal with your short temper?"

Slamming his fist—the flesh one, thankfully—on the desk to vent some anger, Ed replied, "No. Al made me promise not to hurt you. But if you keep calling me short, I just might go back on my word."

"Come now, Fullmetal, we all know you would never break a promise you made to your brother."

"Fortunately for you," Ed hissed back. He stomped over to sit on the couch, crossing his arms huffily. "Just read the report already so I can leave."

Roy smirked, knowing he had won the first round. "Alright," he agreed, and looked down at the report. It was several pages long. How, how did Ed find so much to write about? Granted, a lot of the information was irrelevant to the actual mission, but for the parts that were important, he put in insane amounts of detail. Sighing softly to himself, he set about the arduous task of reading through the report to pick out the important bits.

It had been quiet for several minutes. Strangely quiet, Roy thought, for he knew Ed wasn't the type of person to sit still silently for so long. He glanced up and saw Ed scowling at the floor while his hand absently rubbed his automail shoulder.

"Is your automail hurting?" Roy asked, a touch of concern entering his voice.

Ed looked up swiftly, jolted out of his thoughts, and quickly dropped his arm. "Of course not!" he replied scoffingly, and made a point to cross his arms behind his head as he leaned against the couch. "You almost done with that?" he asked, indicating the report with a slight nod.

"Patience, Fullmetal. It's not my fault you write such unnecessarily long reports."

"It's not my fault you're a slow reader," mumbled Ed, stretching out on the couch. "I think I'll take a nap, then. Since you're so slow and all."

But only a few minutes later he fidgeted and sat up again, this time rubbing his prosthetic leg.

"What's wrong?" Roy asked.

"Nothing," Ed replied distractedly. "Damn rain—it doesn't hurt, but it aches. Annoys the hell out of me."

"Hm, well it looks like we can both agree on one thing," Roy observed as he turned a page in the report. "We both hate the rain."

"Why would you—oh. Heh, 'cause it makes your alchemy useless, right?" snickered Ed. "At least I can still fight in the rain."

"Can it, Shrimp," huffed Roy. "I'm trying to hold a civilized conversation with you."

Ed, surprisingly, let the short comment pass, only murmuring, "Oh? I hadn't noticed." He flopped onto his stomach, resting his head on the armrest of the couch. "But I guess it's nice to not fight all the time," he added as an afterthought. "I'm too tired to argue today anyways."

"You already did argue," Roy pointed out, but he smiled slightly in agreement to Ed's statement. It was nice to not yell himself hoarse every time he saw the kid (Okay, maybe he didn't yell himself hoarse every time, but you get the point).

"'M too tired to argue any more today," amended Ed, glaring half-heartedly at the Colonel. "Now, I'm going to sleep. G'night."

"It's not even noon yet, you realize."

"Shut up. I didn't sleep last night."

"Oh, I wonder why." It wasn't a question; Roy knew that Ed had probably read all through the night, trying to find another lead on the Philosopher's Stone.

No response. Apparently Ed knew that Roy knew and found no reason to comment.

"Good night, Ed."

"...'Night."

Havoc pulled his ear from against the door, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What's going on in there?" asked Fuery nervously.

"I can't believe it!" Havoc said. "They're actually..."

"Actually what? Should we hide?"

"No, they're actually agreeing on something!" Havoc revealed.

"What?" Breda laughed. "You must have misheard. There's no way they could ever agree on anything."

"But it's true!" protested Havoc. "I heard it!" He glanced at the closed door. "The Colonel and Chief agreeing on something. It's a scary thought."

"But...it's better than them arguing, isn't it?" Fuery asked timidly.

"Of course not! Do you know what this means?" Havoc continued without waiting for an answer. "It means that the end of the world must be coming! I mean, it's like Breda said—them agreeing shouldn't even be possible!"

"Oh no," Fuery whispered. "It's the apocalypse."

All the occupants of the room jumped at the sound of a gunshot. They turned around fearfully, expecting the end of the world to be upon them.

It was, in fact, only Riza, reentering the room after coming back from the restroom. She was holding her gun in her hand. "That is enough, gentlemen," she said coldly. "Please return to your work now."

"Y-yes, Ma'am!"