GO GO LET'S GO LET'S GO DATEKO *bangs bottles together*

enjoy,
- royal

Ice Hockey

a Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction
written by: royalvite.

CHAPTER TWO

( volleyballs )

.

The sports hall was huge, to say the least. Bigger than his own house certainly. It turned out that it was one of the two buildings that were detached off CA's main block, with the outdoor courts (they called them the Red Courts and the Adidas Arena, even though the former wasn't even red in the least) located just behind it. Roy could see them through a window as he walked past, with the ice hockey team minus Edward and Alphonse in front of him and Maes flanking him. There were two figures beside the nets, but they passed too quickly for him to see who they were.

Just looking at the entrance room of the sports hall made him feel severely out of place. This particular area wasn't large, but it was almost too elegant and orderly. He felt like he would leave dirt wherever he touched! Seriously, they needed to tone down on how much money they spent on this school. Not that he was complaining, but there was a point where it all got too much...

"I have a question," Maes piped up, "if Eddie isn't playing, why did he get his gym kit from his locker?"

"To get his trainers most likely," Riza responded. She stopped outside of a door labelled 'female changing room' and pushed it open with her shoulder, before sharply setting her gaze upon her ice hockey team. "I expect you all to be on the top of your game in volleyball today, by the way. If not, remember that I have a working gun and its bullets at home..."

With that delightful threat, the Captain disappeared into the changing rooms and the door made a gentle squeezing noise as it pressed shut.

Jean blinked and pushed the door to their own changing rooms open. He shuddered violently as he let the others in, grey eyes wide in dismay. "I know she'll never do it," he began shakily, "but Cap seriously needs to stop threatening us with her gun."

"She actually has a gun?" Roy stepped around Maes and put his school bag on the bench, knowing he wouldn't need it. After all, he was only sitting out and observing this lesson. He'd have to bug his foster mother to hurry up and buy the school's P.E kit before the end of the week, if it looked fun that was.

Snorting, Breda pulled out his shirt in sync with the others. Their kit was simple, yet managed to look sophisticated anyway; a white polo shirt labelled 'Central Academy' on the breast and a pair of black loose shorts with the same logo on the thigh. Roy personally liked the idea of having polo shirts as your P.E kit - back in EA, they had normal t-shirts that made you look painsteakingly fat even if you tucked it in. They just made him feel obese!

Roy paid no attention to them as they changed, instead scrolling absently through his phone. There was no way he was going to be seen as a pervert by staring at their topless/bottomless bodies, even if he was curious about how much muscle they had gained from doing ice hockey. He caught a glimpse of a faint six-pack from beside him, where Jean was stood laughing at something Breda said all the while remaining topless.

This was getting severely uncomfortable and was the room getting hot, or was it just him? Not to mention the other kids also getting changed were mumbling and staring at Roy like he was some sort of freak on show.

Gay.

Fuck off.

You can never get rid of me~

"I'm kind of excited for volleyball," Maes said absently. "Little Eddie is probably going to act as the tosser again while we practise our spikes. He's really good at them. Or maybe he'll spike it for us again while we practise recieving? Oh, or maybe Mrs. Curtis will let us practise being libero again while he spikes...!"

With a quick glance, Roy concluded that Maes had finished changing and turned his head to look at him. "Don't tell me you guys play volleyball too," he said flatly, discouraged by all the gibberish they were speaking. Is this what sporty people like them always talked about? And who got excited for physical fucking education (hence the name P.E) anymore?

"No. We just play it with Riza a lot. She is Captain of both the ice hockey and volleyball teams, after all. Speaking of, she won't be at ice hockey practise tomorrow night." Jean finished tying the shoelaces on his black trainers and collapsed onto the bench, waiting for Breda to finish. "Hey, where's Fuery? I haven't seen him since he disappered in the math room..."

"He had to go home sick," Breda commented, pulling on his shirt and adjusting his too-tight shorts. Everyone - including a blushing-but-hiding-it Roy - joined the flood of boys leaving the changing rooms and they stepped outside, pressing against the wall in order to avoid getting crushed by everybody else. "Someone accidently punched him in the stomach while he was trying to get his gym kit and he ended up puking all over the wall because of it. He needs to do something to get a stronger stomach because it seems pretty weak."

Maes and Jean found it positively hysterical and fell against each other laughing, with Riza - who had just emerged from her own changing room - staring at them with a levelly unimpressed gaze. Jean wheezed, leaning on his knees. Meanwhile, Roy just furrowed his brow and said nothing. Were they not in the least bit concerned about the health of their friend?

"Hey, dorkwads," Riza growled dangerously, "get onto the Red Courts before you meet the butt of my gun." Breda opened his mouth to retort, but a sharp glare from those icy chocolate eyes cut him off and he was out of the door before one could say 'Glock twenty-two pistol'.

.

"LISTEN UP, IDIOTS!"

Roy watched smugly from a nearby bench as the entire class jolted in surprise, snapping around to face their P.E teacher like war-torn soldiers approaching their dangerously strict superior. Mrs. Curtis - hold on, is this Mr. Curtis' wife, or was he just hallucinating? - certainly had that kind of aura around her. That was something he couldn't deny.

With her dreadlocked dark hair and sharp eyes that seemed to stare deep into your soul, you could certainly see how she gained her title as one of the most frightening teachers in CA. Her face was set in a permanent scowl that could rival Edward's, her hands held on her slender hips as he stared you down. The dark kit she wore just accented her dark persona just as eyeliner enhanced an emo's depressed apperance. Something about her really made Roy nervous; thank the Lord that he wasn't taught by her today, or he would have shat himself.

The onyx-eyed teen watched Breda push Jean's hasty salute down.

"GET THAT LOOK OF YOUR PATHETIC LITTLE FACES!" Mrs. Curtis demanded angrily. Even Riza tensed at her provoked expression. "STOP SHAKING, HAVOC! IT'S NOT EVEN COLD, YOU WORTHLESS PILE OF SHIT, SO QUIT YOUR USELESS BLUBBERING AND SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Stuttering, Jean froze his hands together. "Y-yes, Ma'am," he stammered.

"THAT'S MA'AM TO YOU, HAVOC."

A questioning furrow touched Jean's brow. "Yes, Ma'am-"

"WHAT DID I JUST SAY?! IT'S MA'AM, YOU DEAF TWAT. MA'AM."

Jean remained quiet and it seemed to please the teacher considerably.

"ALRIGHT! NOW THAT YOU DICKWADS HAVE ACTUALLY SHUT UP, I CAN GET ON WITH THE LESSON!" Suddenly, Mrs. Curtis' voice dramatically decreased in volume, and a gentle smile graced her features. Taken aback by the sudden change in persona, Roy leant forward on the bench and cocked an ear to listen. It was difficult to hear her now that she was talking at a normal amplification. "Today, I want to help you out with your recieving, because we all know that you need practise on that.

"And at the end of the lesson, I hope to have a couple of proper matches between groups of you. I'll be splitting the ice hockey team up within different groups because they're heavily advantaged with the amount of practise they get with their Captain. As usual, we'll have Edward and I spiking to you from that-" she motioned lazily to a block of wood set up just behind the opposite side of the net, "-and I want you to try and receive it so it doesn't fly off to the side or behind you. Understand?"

At the mention of Edward's name, Roy suddenly realized that the petite blonde was nowhere to be seen. He would have thought that Edward would be on the block (if he was tall enough to reach the top of it, his mind helpfully supplied) if he were to be anywhere.

But, as if on cue, a small, slender figure appeared in the entrance to the Red Courts, pushing a cart full of blue and gold volleyballs in front of him. He was still wearing his black hoodie and matching skinny jeans, but instead of his dark red Converse, he wore a pair of black trainers instead. Roy also noticed that his blonde hair was pulled up in a simple ponytail instead of being in the plait he had worn previously.

He's still hot.

Roy chose not to respond to that nagging voice in his head.

Because you know I'm right.

Was he going insane, or was it normal to argue with yourself?

Without so much as acknowledging anybody's stares, Edward moved the cart into the middle of the two spiking blocks and took out one of the balls. He ghosted over it with gloved hands, as if he were testing out the weight and feel. It looked almost proffesional, the way he did it. I swear to God, if someone tells me that he plays volleyball too... he thought sourly.

"For the sake of both you guys and the new kid over there," Mrs. Curtis began once more, "Edward will be showcasing a suitable recieve that I will expect you all to follow. In no ways does he play this proffesionally, but he manages to execute a perfect recieve as if he did, and that is how I would like you dickwads to treat the ball. As if you did it like a pro. Or, as if you played volleyball for a living!"

"But he's coached by Riza in ice hockey," some unidentified student moaned, "and Riza's the Captain of the volleyball team! You can't expect us to be as good as those who get more practise than us, Ma'am." A hum of agreement rumbled through all the students apart from Riza and those she coached. The teacher's scowl darkened at this.

"At least try, William, or just shut the Hell up. You're disrupting my lesson," Mrs. Curtis hissed bitterly at the kid, who scowled and slumped his shoulders. Ignoring him completely, she turned to Edward, who was still holding the volleyball in his hands, and grinned warmly at him. "Edward, move to the correct position in the court, if you please?"

The blonde silently obliged, moving from beside the volleyball cart and stopping near the centre of opposite side of the court. He tossed the ball to the P.E teacher and stared at her through expectant golden eyes, awaiting his next command. Roy couldn't help himself as he observed the smaller boy and the way the brilliant rays of sunshine accented his faded freckles, giving him an almost angelic glow that gave the effect of a beautiful halo.

But the dark scowl that seemed to decorate his features permenately sliced through mentioned halo, the furrow of his brow and the dull sheen in his molten golden eyes breaking through the light with shadows of their own. Something about his expression made Roy wonder what his train of thought was. Maybe he was simply deep in thought, or perhaps the cold atittude was caused by a reason more sinister? How hot and mysterious-

You're beng gay again.

No I'm not. I'm observing the facts-

There's no point denying it~

Go away, random voice in my head.

Tch... no.

Trying to distract himself, Roy set his onyx gaze upon Mrs. Curtis instead. He had been so deep into his thoughts that he hadn't even seen her climb onto the spiking block, nor had he noticed that William kid position himself beside the volleyball cart. "Now," she began, "receving a ball can either be easy as pie or painfully difficult, depending on the type of situation you are in. Someone give me an example- oh, Riza. Why don't you have a go?"

"When someone spikes the ball past the blockers," Riza supplied confidently.

"Good! If someone gets around the blockers and your libero isn't ready for it, it is legal to recieve the ball and get what we call a chance ball. The easiest attacks to recieve would be straight, but not many use straight simply because it is easy to catch. Usually, the ball would be going quickly if this happens, so the reciever would have to be ready to really get smacked real hard in the arms by it. Ready, Edward?"

The blonde only lowered his stance and gave a level nod.

... and Roy let out a gasp of both awe and shock as their P.E teacher threw the ball above her head and smacked it directly at Edward with her bare palms. It had to be going at least twenty miles per hour, it flew so fast, and if it were to hit Edward in the head he was sure to be knocked out by it. How was someone so small going to counter an attack so fierce?

But the blonde didn't seem panicked in the least by its incredible speed and he moved smoothly to receive it, expression cold and unreadable as ever. His left knee bent slightly, he pushed his arms out in front of him and clasped his hands together in order to create a platform for the ball to bounce off. The sound of rubber hitting metal resounded through the air as the ball hit his wrists and flew upwards, back toward the net and into the excited crowd of observing students.

"Impressive!" Mrs. Curtis crowed, clapping her hands. She then turned to the rest of the class and motioned to the stoic blonde teenager. "That is how I'd like you all to recieve the ball. Don't panic, or you'll freeze up and it'll end up hitting you in the face. If you were watching Edward's face, you would've seen how he watched it come toward him without even batting an eyelid, because he knew what he was doing."

The sound of rubber hitting something metal resounded through the air as the ball hit his wrists and flew upwards, back toward the net and into the excited crowd of observing students.

... rubber hitting something metal...

"Can I have another situation where you may have to recieve the ball?"

This time, it was Maes who gave her a response. It sounded tenative and unsure, as if he were uncertain about what he was saying. After all, Maes didn't play volleyball in the slightest. "When you have a chance ball and you need to get the ball to the tosser...?" he said, more as if it were a question than an answer.

Mrs. Curtis looked pleased. "Good," she praised briefly, "these shots tend to be slower than the spiker's shot and also tend to come in from above rather than being directly towards you. Therefore, I am going to hit it into the air. Edward, I want you to make sure it goes into William's hands."

"Yeah, yeah," the blonde grumbled.

Letting out a sharp gasp, Jean fell against Breda weakly. "He talked," he mock-sobbed into the brunette's shoulder, "the apocolypse is approaching, Breda! The apocolypse!"

"Shh, it's okay, Jean. It's okay." Breda patted his back.

Edward didn't look the least bit pleased and awarded their dry humor with sour glares as he moved into position. The distinctive noise of skin hitting rubber echoed through the air and Roy watched the ball fall directly on top of the blonde, who had to take a step back in order to meet it with his wrists. Again, a ring of metal resounded out and the volleyball was up in the clouds once more.

With practised ease, William caught the ball and dropped it into the cart with the rest. "Well done, Edward," she praised. "That is a perfect example of how to recieve a chance ball! William is stood exactly where our tosser would be, if he were not ill today. Now, I think that's enough for the lecture part of my lesson-" she nodded towards the cart of volleyballs, "-so we'll be getting straight into the practical part. I will be spiking you for the first ten minutes or so. Line up, you pathetic dickwads!"

Roy decided that he couldn't wait to get his P.E kit. The lesson looked like great fun overall, and their teacher (while being rather colourful in many, many ways, more than one) was a rather eccentric and demanding character. Not to mention the fact that Edward was an assistant despite being a student-

Again, a ring of metal resounded out and the volleyball was up in the clouds once more.

The sound of rubber hitting something metal resounded through the air as the ball hit his wrists and flew upwards, back toward the net and into the excited crowd of observing students.

... rubber hitting something metal...

What did that mean? Roy remembered hearing the noise, but he hadn't registered it at the time; the moment that the ball hit Edward's wrists, it sounded as if it had just slammed against something metal. Steel scraping against steel. The jolt of a metal sheet shifting upon impact. But, it had just hit Edward's arms, not something metallic at all.

This would be something he would ask about later. His brain was hurting just thinking about the possibilities.

To distract himself, Roy observed the lesson in front of him. The students were chattering excitedly as they waited in a not-so-orderly line just outside of the Red Courts, with Mrs. Curtis stood on the spiking block and Edward taking William's place beside the cart of balls. Everytime the teacher did not have a ball in her hands, he would toss one up without so much as making a noise.

Why doesn't he talk? Roy thought, narrowing his eyes at the blonde. He gives everybody the cold shoulder, even the teachers, and yet he isn't mute; he had spoken before. In math class. The onyx-eyed teenager sighed, running a hand through his silky black locks. Just thinking about the enigma that was Edward Elric perplexed him down to the bone.

Just as Roy had found something to fully relax himself with - it was funny watching Breda repetively fail to recieve a ball without it flying backwards - he felt eyes burning holes into the side of his head and he froze, his veins turning to ice. Edward was looking right at him.

Edward was looking at him.

Shit-

Do I look good?

It was frightening, to have such a cold gaze, void of positive emotion, resting on you. Like a teacher glowering at you as you took your exams, or that child who just stared at you in public and made you extremely uncomfortable, beknownst to their parents. But something about it made Roy feel like a giggling schoolgirl being noticed by his all-time crush-

YOU'RE BEING GAY AGAIN-

-and, to be honest, he felt he should just ignore it. After all, it wasn't as if Edward would ever say yes even if he tried. The kid was practically an ice-cube on legs, he was so cold, and Roy had always loved someone with character. There was no way that Edward reached his level-

there's no way you reach his level-

-and that was all he could reason himself with right now.

"You look... odd," Maes commented, violently jerking Roy out of his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't need to go to the nurse's office or something, Roy-Boy?" His shadow loomed over Roy, the reflection of the sun hiding his gentle hazel eyes from view as the light his the lenses. There was no sweat or sign of exhaustion on him, suggesting that he hadn't had his turn of recieving yet.

The sound of cheering disrupted him, followed by the slam of the rubber volleyballs against the ground. He briefly looked over Maes' shoulder, watching Jean as he perfectly recieved a ball into Edward's gloves hands. The sun was bathing the tarmac, lighting the grey surface up with pools of golden light as it filtered through the branches of a nearby oak tree.

Golden sunlight, like Edward's beautiful molten eyes-

Shut up. I don't know him.

Pfft.

Shaking his head, Roy rolled his eyes and 'tched' stroppily at his best friend.. "No, no!" he retorted, "you're just over-exaggerating, Maes. I'm just bored, is all."

"You keep looking at Edward funny."

Roy's stomach jolted- oh God I hope he hadn't noticed- but he made no physical reaction. "I was just wondering what his deal was. He's so quiet and cold. He doesn't even talk to the teachers. Y'know, the only thing I've heard him say is 'suck it' as of now," he supplied nonchalantly, hoping the act was believable. He wasn't exactly lying, after all...

"Like I said in math, that could just be the way he is," Maes responded. He collapsed onto the bench beside Roy, throwing a nervous glance to Mrs. Curtis, who didn't seem to notice his absence. "Alphonse - his younger brother - told me that he was actually a really good person. Nice to talk to, if he felt in the mood, apparantly. He said that Eddie just wasn't really good with people and didn't really like to talk a lot."

"Eddie?" Roy repeated, arching an eyebrow. Maes wheezed out a half-laugh.

"We call him that as a joke. He hated it, but I think it suits someone so... little."

Roy looked at Edward once more. He watched as the petite blond flexed his right arm and rolled his shoulder, then went to collect a bunch of loose volleyballs with the help of Riza and William. "Heh, he really is little," he commented, observing the contrast of his height with the other students. He had to be at least two heads shorter than most of them... "Why is he so short?"

"Alphonse said he's allergic to milk," Maes supplied helpfully, shrugging. He then laughed rather obnoxiously, before saying, "apparantly, the last time he was asked to drink his milk, he had snarled 'bone growth my ass' and then promptly left the room... classic Eddie. Always swearing."

"Pfft," Roy snorted, before flopping back in the bench. He watched through an unfocused gaze as a random gangly kid recieved a ball perfectly, then did it once more on his second try. "What's he like at ice hockey practices?"

"What?"

"My question remains the same, Maes."

The bespectulated man sighed, rubbing his hands over his now-damp forehead (they were sitting in the sun, after all). "He's pretty much the same. He gets changed with the others - at least, I think so. I wait in the stands and watch from there, so I've never seen what it's like in there. Anyway, they all go onto the ice, he listens and stays silent, then he leaves one practise is over. I think the only time him and Alphonse stayed back was when I was having a go at scoring a goal past Jean, probably to watch me fail."

"Oh." Maybe going the ice hockey practices would be plainer than he originally thought.

"But don't be discouraged," Maes continued as if reading his mind, "he's pretty incredible on the ice. He sometimes makes a joke or two and ends up getting chased around by his brother or something. I heard him laugh really hard at Breda's dramatic story about the time he accidently drop-kicked a toddler..."

Roy paused. "Drop-kicked a toddler?" he repeated. "Accidentally?"

"Pff. It sounds pretty stupid, I know. But Breda's never lied in his life and he's really good at story-telling, so I think he was telling the truth. Anyway," he cleared his throat, "I should really go. Mrs. Curtis'll get mad if she happens to see me not doing what I'm supposed to be doing, and I think we're doing some volleyball matches against each other soon. Goodbye, Roy-Boy~!"

"Don't call me that!"

.

The school may have looked grand and impressive, but the food they were serving when break time came around disproved this immensely. Roy nearly gagged as the scent of something stale invaded his senses. It was at that moment that he realized he wasn't quite hungry even after missing breakfast, and he decided that he'd start bringing his own lunches into school son after.

Of course, the canteen lived up to Central Academy's expensive physique; it was huge (as was every room here, he noticed with a dry mouth) with white walls, dark mahogany floors and rows upon rows of perfect wooden tables. At the very back of the room - opposite to where the grand wooden doors were - was where the food was served, in that traditional 'line up with a tray' layout, with cold snacks that were probably poisioned near where you presumably paid.

Beside him, Maes made a hacking noise. "Ugh, the food here is disgusting," he remarked queasily. "I wouldn't advice eating it. Jean once got food poisioning from eating one of their chicken burgers. Do you have a lunch with you or just money?"

"Just money." Roy played with the coins in the pocket of his jeans. "I'm bringing my own food tomorrow, though. Isn't the food at some fancy school like this supposed to be really expensive and healthy and tasty and o' that shit?" Saying nothing more, Maes laughed. He took hold of Roy's wrist and pulled him into a flood of older, taller students and toward a table near to the wall, where familiar people sat talking loudly about their previous class.

When they sat down, Roy was surprised to find himself seated in front of someone he didn't recognize. Short sandy blonde hair, soft hazel eyes, sunken into soft peach skin, painted with faint golden freckles. He had a grey beanie pulled over the back of his head and a pair of glasses hanging off the front of his navy blue t-shirt (maybe he was wearing contact lenses today?). Roy observed the boy quietly. Something about him was familiar...

It wasn't until he looked at Edward - who was sat beside the new face - that it all clicked together. They're related, he told himself. Brothers. "Roy," Maes started, motioning to the boy, "that's Alphonse. He's Edward's brother and the sixth member of the Central Academy ice hockey team, as well as Riza's assistant in Captain of the volleyball team."

Alphonse waved genuinely and grinned. "You're the new one in my brother's classes, right? Oh, hi, just call me Al for short. I assume you've met my brother, Eddie," he greeted warmly. Some difference to his brother, Roy thought to himself increduously.

The seething blonde's expression grew darker as his scowl worsened. "It's Ed. Eddie makes me sound like a fuckin' dog..." he grumbled, his voice void of emotion as usual. However, this didn't seem to faze Alphonse and the taller just laughed, digging into his BLT sandwhich.

"As you can see," Breda stated, knotting his fingers together and resting his elbows on the table, "he's not in a good mood."

"When does that ever change?" Jean retorted.

"His temper is shorter than he is," Roy added in a bid to be funny.

Alphonse seemed to pale - as did the rest of the table - and he immediately slapped his hand over Edward's mouth, grasping his arms with his free hand as the petite blonde leapt up from his seat. "That- that wasn't a good idea!" he supplied, pushing his older brother back into his seat, still muffling his voice with his palm. "Brother is really sensitive about his height..."

"And he hates to be underestimated because of it, too," Riza spoke for the first time in a while.

Finally, the flare of Edward's temper seemed to have been extinguished and he pulled his head out of Alphonse's grip. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here," he snapped, glaring at Roy with an angry fire in his golden eyes. "If you call be short one more time, I swear to God I will-"

"Woah, woah, okay." Alphonse put his hand over Edward's mouth once more. "He was just making a joke, Brother. You don't want to be turning him into a puddle on the floor on his first day..." Anxiously he grinned over at Roy, waiting until Edward had calmed down before finally allowing him free range with his voice. "Sorry about that... just, don't comment about it and you should be alright..."

Roy watched Edward with an arched eyebrow as he slumped his seat, scowling darkly down at his BLT sandhich. A mysterious midget with the complex of an ice-cube and a temper shorter than himself... Not to mention that he's apparantly really intelligent, and exceedingly talented at ice hockey (as well as being kind of good at volleyball, too). It was only his first day and he was already interested in the guy.

Of course, not in a homosexual kind of way.

Liar.

"No promises," he smirked smugly, crossing his arms, his onyx eyes clashing with Edward's fierce golden gaze. The blonde's glower didn't waver, but his scowl deepened to a somewhat murderous glare. Was it good to make enemies with your crush- no, with someone you were supposed to be friends with? Probably not. Did Roy care? Not really. This burst of confidence made him almost seem as bitchy as Edward.

Edward breathed out a sigh, mumbling a word that resembled 'bastard', before he ripped another bite off his BLT sandwich and chewed, seemingly ignoring everybody. "He's living up to his reputation of not giving a shit," Jean commented absently from across the table. That remark earnt a sharp glare, but Edward otherwise said nothing.

"What do we have next?" Maes asked out of the blue.

Breda hummed, then pulled out what Roy assumed would be a timetable (he still had yet to get his from reception). "Chemistry with Mr. Vegas," he supplied helpfully.

At this, Maes clapped. "We're blowing stuff up! I just know it!"

.

He happened to be correct. Everybody - including Roy - happened to be over the moon. Especially Jean, who apparantly had a habit of making explosions bigger then they should be durng practicals according to Maes. Their resident shortstack looked emotionless as usual, but Roy could have sworn that there was a twinkle of excited aggression in those beautiful molten gold eyes of his.

Whether he should be worried or not, he decided to think about that later.

The teacher at the front of the room appeared to be more fun than Mr. Jadd and friendlier than Mrs. Curtis could ever hope to be. With his tousled ginger hair and clear thunder-grey eyes accented by a pair of black glasses, Mr. Vegas had to the dorkiest of science teachers. The white lab coat he wore showcased his lanky build and his wide, goofy grin suggested what his lessons would be like.

At that moment, Roy decided he liked chemistry.

"Greetings, class!" Mr. Vegas exclaimed. "I understand that we have a new student and I would like to say hello to whoever you are." Roy was about to say hello back, but the teacher rambled so quickly that he never even got a chance to open his mouth. "We're doing a practical lesson today, as some of you would know. Say, where did Kain go? Heymans? Jean? Riza? Where did he go?"

"Uh, he went home sick after first period math..." Breda supplied.

The teacher snorted. "Math makes me queasy, too," he responded, before he suddenly launched into a rather vibrant lecture about how they were going to observe the reaction that caesium made when touching water. It all sounded very interesting; apparantly, it blew up violently upon contact, meaning that Jean's explosive (badom-tss) reputation would come into play. He was worried for his health but was excited at the same time.

Mr. Vegas didn't exactly seem like the most qualified of science teachers, nor did he seem to know about safety rules. Usually, practicals like this were ruled out for the student body because they were too inexperienced. He certainly liked this lesson already, but he couldn't help but be concerned for his safety...

Oh well. Who cares? After all, he did love fire.

.

"Oh- shit-"

BOOM. An explosion shook the classroom and the sound of plastic shattering resounded off the walls, followed by the slap of water against the tiled floor. Roy looked up from his own container, still holding his cube of caesium in between his fingers. Beside him, Jean and Breda were collecting up shards of cracked plastic and stepping over puddles of water, their bodies shaking with laughter as they worked.

At the front of the room, Mr. Vegas looked positively over the moon. "I'm not even mad about how you broke my container, or burnt a hole in my table!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, skipping to their table. "That was incredible! Beautiful! Ten out of ten, Jean, Breda. Top notch science." Roy was so surprised at his unexpected reaction (SCIENCE PUNS) that the caesium slipped from between his fingers...

...right into his container of water.

Roy released a string of colourful curses, jumping backwards as the metal made an angry popping noise. An arch of fire decorated the heated air and the plastic container shattered, spraying shards of plastic all over him and the floor. The tall blonde beside him fell to floor he laughed so hard and Mr. Vegas was even more pleased; buzzing around Roy, saying he was a science prodigy even on his first day.

"Holy shit," he breathed, standing up and leaning on the singed tabletop, "I'm pretty sure that practical is unsafe, sir~."

The teacher shrugged. "It's not like you lot are stupid," he said firmly, "I can trust you all with it. Plus, what fun is science when you aren't blowing shit up like that, huh?"

how did you find the ending? i thought having roy blow shit up accidently would be funny. and i really hope that this chapter wasn't boring or plain or too short. i tried hard to make it both funny and interesting, but i'm not sure whether it worked.

review responses...

TheAmazingAlchemist310: heh, he can't run XD

Crooked Mind of 15: thank you!

pokeperson01: oh no don't get distracted XD

Cutiepie120048: nope. ;3

PortgasDDom: thank you!

KeraJeir: i hate it when people just right into ships so i decided not to be hypocritical.

primu: hehe...

Aslowdecentintomadness: ahhh thank you!

thank you all for the reviews! they were amazing and i am so glad that people are liking this. remember that chapters make you happy, happy makes you review, reviews make chapters... can we get maybe 25-30 reviews? also remember no flames are allowed! if you do want to flame, PM it to me, or i will delete it off my review section~

sorry for typos!

- royal :D