Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and it's characters do not belong to me. The purpose of this fanfiction has no intention of money.

Catching a cold seemed like a pretty normal occurence to Edward. Living as a child in Resembool, he and his brother were constantly exposed to the hot weather of the countryside, and the irritating plants and crops that were harvested there were a usual cause behind runny noses and sore throats.

As far as his memory served correctly, Ed had only ever caught a cold once in his life. It had been quite a shock at first; his legs had turned into jelly as soon as he had left his bed that morning, and practically fell onto the sleeping form of Al to save himself from collapsing on the floor(Al had a minor fit at the rude wake up call). His throat felt raw and itchy, which made it more than difficult to talk without sounding like his voice box had gone through a cheese grater, so his mother had asked the Rockbells to bring over some medicine to help.

It had only lasted for a day, for which Ed was grateful (he hated feeling useless), however his younger brother, Alphonse, seemed to have the luck of mangled roadkill when it came to staying healthy.

Ed blamed it on Al for being too stupid to realise that he shouldn't run through the harvest fields as a shortcut from school. Al blames it on Ed because it was Ed's idea in the first place.

Living in rural conditions must have helped his immune system, Ed convinced himself, as he wandered through Mustang's office in East Headquarters on that particular day. There was an apparent case of the common cold flowing around the city (which was supposedly rare - Ed scoffed at the thought)that had been biting people throughout the building; Ed was having a difficult time spotting people who didn't have snot dribbling from their nose. His work area seemed sanitary, at least.

And then he heard a person cough.

Ed's eye twitched. Were these so-called adults idiotic? Didn't they treat their colds? His eyes rose from the report he was currently scribbling on (Mustang had ordered him to stay in the office to work on paper for a week - the bastard) to scan the room to search for the culprit. His bet was on Breda; he wouldn't be suprised if he had eaten something that an ill cook had coughed, sneezed and mucus'd on, but was startled to see that it was actually Hawkeye, who coughed politely behind the back of her hand.

Mustang was the only one absent in the room (and Al, but he wasn't military), so Ed rose from his desk and walked over to her as silent as an automail leg could allow.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye, are you sick?" he asked in half curiousity, half annoyance. He didn't want to be rude, but how could sensible people like Hawkeye not even think to try to help themselves? It seemed pretty stupid to him.

Hawkeye blinked, before looking up from her paperwork that she was desperately trying to not cough all over to look at the frowning boy in front of her.

She attempted to clear her throat, but it didn't stop the rough sound that grated her voice as she replied, "Just a cold, sir. It's been going around lately; I'm sure you're well aware. It'll be gone by tomorrow. I just have to let it pass."

The frown on his face became more evident, as he repeated, "Just have to let it pass," although he seemed to be directing it to himself more than to her.

After a few moments of silence, and Hawkeye wondering why he wasn't returning to his work, the boy suddenly stomped off into the opposite direction of the room, towards the door. It slammed swiftly behind him, and the other people residing in the building turned to face the just-as-confused woman.

"Yer think you scare him off with yer flu, Hawkeye?" Havoc joked, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

Hawkeye frowned. She had hoped Edward would've been more sensible than running away from her like she had koodies or something equally childish. If he ended up giving her the cold shoulder because she had caught a little cold, she would not be impressed.

It surprised her slightly when he stomped back inside ten minutes later, escorted by Mustang who had a firm grip on his shoulder.

"Don't rush me!" Ed spat, trying not to let the item he was holding fall and spill all over the floor. It was a mug, Hawkeye realised, and it must have been full by the looks of the hot billowing steam rolling out of it.

The rest of the crew eyed Mustang in silent question, to which he announced, "Found the kid helping himself to the supplies in the cafeteria kitchen, most likely without permission," he gave a stern glare down at the boy beside him, who glared back with equal ferocity, "I had a feeling that he was probably trying to get out of his paperwork."

"What, like you?" Ed sneered in response, waiting for Mustang to release his hold on his shoulder. When he did, and had started walking back to his desk, Ed huffed, "besides, this isn't for me, Jackass."

Mustang, now perched comfortably in his seat, rose a questioning eyebrow as Ed trotted along to Hawkeye's desk and placed the mug carefully on the side away from the papers.

"This is for your cold," he stated matter-of-factly, his face set in a glower, although to Hawkeye's relief it was settled on Mustang and not her. She stared at the steaming mug blankly, before wrapping her fingers around it's handle and taking a tentative sniff at the contents. It smelled deliciously sweet.

"What is it?" she murmured, taking a small swig and relishing the smooth texture that ran down her throat. It almost tasted like hot chocolate.

She took note in the way he subconsciously rolled his shoulders in embarrassment of being watched by the other crew members, as he muttered, "Just some dark chocolate melted and diluted a little in some water. I also added a bit of honey; I made sure that it was the rich kind of chocolate that doesn't contain sugar, 'cause that can cause mild irritation to already sore throats and could cause unwanted infection."

She took another deep sip, mouth curved into a gentle smile, "Well, this is delicious, Edward. Thank you very much."

Edward just grunted a little in response, and began to head over to his desk, when Mustang teased, "Aw, Ed, how sweet. Feel like giving the rest of us some chocolate?"

The child flushed in embarrassment, and began shouting, "You idiot! It's for her cold! Chocolate contains theobromine, a component that suppresses the nerve activity responsible for coughing; I used to use this remedy at home - hey! It actually works you Bastard!"

Mustang had began laughing short-ways through the explanation, causing Ed to practically boil as he stormed towards his own desk noisily and scribbled carelessly on his work in seething annoyance. The majority of the office was snickering about Ed having a small crush on a certain Lieutenant, which caused him to send a wave of glares towards the crew, effectively shutting them up.

Mustang huffed in silent laughter. There was no way that something like chocolate could help a cold. The kid was obviously in his hormonal lovey dovey stage.

The next day, throughout all the other sick officers, Hawkeye seemed to be in perfect health.

Mustang had caught the cold.

When Ed had strode inside, this time bringing his younger brother (as a backup to prove that his remedy did work as he used to make it for Al all the time), he broke down in stitches at the door once he spotted Mustang's sniffly nose.

As Ed died down, Al spoke up, "If you want sir, Ed knows a tonne of different remedies for colds. He could help you out if you want."

"A tonne of them, huh?" Mustang growled and hesitantly looked at Ed in questionable hope.

All hope was lost when Ed gave off one of his cocky grins.

"Oh sure, Colonel Bastard. Raw onions are naturally antimicrobial, especially when they haven't been cooked. They also contain a lot of sulfur, which is helpful for both immune responsiveness and detoxification. Make sure it isn't cooked," his eyes shone with malice, "would you like me to go get you one from the kitchen?"

Mustang wanted to cry; Hawkeye silently smiled from her paperwork.

Welp, it's been a while since I've written a story (I have 35 unfinished stories in my documents but I can't be bothered to finish any of them XD) so have a small little drabble I felt like doing.

Yes, these remedies do work (although with the raw onion one I highly suggest having it with some chicken or veggie broth and not biting the bloody vegetable by itself.

This is not implied Ed/Riza (I find this pairing slightly random and very un-characteristic - very much so like Ed/Roy - that's just creepy) This is merely a friendship fic.

I always get the feeling that Ed is more polite to women because he grew up in a woman-based environment. They were always in charge, so he has this sort of respect for them. Because he was the "top man" in his childhood (practically being brother, father and best friend to Al) he's seen himself as the man in charge and hates it when other men think lowly of him (which is why I think he acts like a cocky brat towards Mustang and other male characters)

This is just my opinion of course - nothing here's fact or whatever, so don't take it to heart.

Hope you enjoyed reading this.

Wildface97.

Edit: Corrected some spelling errors. I don't have spell-check and made the amusing mistake of typing declicious. Try saying it out loud - it's rather amusing.