Hey all! Welcome to my first Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction, Written with Love. As you read in the Summary, it's HavocxScieszka, a very under-written pairing that I am just obsessed with! There really arn't enough fanfics dedicated to these two adorable people, so I'm posting my own. You can check out my profile for a little more info on my inspiration for this fic (and the situation with my other fic), if you wish. I realize this is kinda short, but since it's a prologue of sorts, I decided to post by itself instead of with the next chapter, which will be much longer, promise! Enjoy, and make sure to review; knowing that people like what I write is my biggest inspiration of all, so if you want to see this updated, make sure you let me know!
Note: This story takes place after episode 37of the anime. So, if you haven't seen up to then, do not read! That means you, kirafirefan! (lol)
It was the hazy, wet end to a hazy, wet day. He stood in front of the large window, his restless mind refusing to return to his body. He seemed to stare out the window, but the glazed look in his eyes told otherwise. However, even if he hadn't been lost in thought, he wouldn't have been able to see anything but his own reflection staring listlessly back at him. The wet gloom of the rainy day had finally succumbed to the greater darkness of night, and with his bright office lights blazing behind him, there was nothing to see in the window but himself. Without warning his thoughts released him, and he found himself staring at… himself, surprised by the haggard look in his own eyes.
"It's getting late, sir," said a quiet, melodious voice behind him. He wondered how long she had been standing there, but only for an instant before turning around to face her. He gave her a small, professional nod. She stood still for another moment before snapping to a salute, turning on her heels, and heading for the door. A small black and white ball of fur next to the door uncurled itself as she turned the door handle, pulling it open. She stopped, the small dog standing obediently at her feet. It looked up at her questioningly.
"Goodnight, Colonel." With that, she left the room, the small dog following at her heels.
The door clicked closed. He was alone.
After a few moments of staring at the closed door, he grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, and, remembering to turn off the lights behind him, followed her lead out of the empty room.
He entered the long, white tiled hallway, slowly closing the office door behind him. It was mostly deserted, with the majority of military staff having gone home for the night. Most of the offices were dark; however, the hallway was still brightly lit to accommodate those few who still had business to attend to at such a late hour. As he stood just outside his office door, a familiar scent entered his nose, one that made him quite confused.
Smoke.
He turned slowly, and his eyes met a plume of smoke rising lazily toward the ceiling. Slowly, he looked below the plume to find its source, even though he had a good idea what it was.
A tall blond man stood leaning against the wall adjacent to his office door, the stump of a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. His clear blue eyes were unfocused, staring up at some unimportant spot on the ceiling. The colonel frowned bemusedly at his subordinate.
"Lieutenant Havoc," he said, trying to snap the young man out of his daze. He had been like that for a few days now, ever since he had been rejected for a date by "the woman of his dreams," as the other men who worked for the colonel said. Of course, he knew that any woman the lieutenant fancied became the woman of his dreams.
As if in slow motion, Havoc turned to face his commanding officer. "Hey, Colonel," he said lazily.
"Why are you still here, Lieutenant?" the colonel asked, genuinely wondering Havoc's reason for sticking around so late when he and his co-workers had been dismissed almost an hour ago.
The lieutenant shrugged. "Just… thinking, sir."
"Well, you can think at home, can't you?"
Havoc smiled a weak and pathetic smile that made even the hardened colonel wince slightly on the inside. He pushed himself off the wall, and, dropping his pitiful face for more professional one, saluted him, saying starkly, "G'night, Colonel Mustang." He walked past his superior officer and down the hallway, and then turning a corner out of sight.
Colonel Mustang frowned after the dejected soldier. For some reason, he kept getting the nagging feeling that Havoc's depression was somehow his fault, which made no sense, of course. Sighing, Mustang leaned against the wall next to his office door where Havoc had just been, and thought.
Just around the corner from the pensive colonel, another member of the state military staff was also feeling the weight of a dilemma… however, in a more literal manner. Her arms were full of important documents, books, case files and other paper materials that she had been instructed to bring to another office down the hall. She wasn't very pleased with this assignment; she didn't understand why such a menial, yet heavy, task couldn't wait till morning when she wouldn't be so tired, or maybe even someone else could do it. But that seemed to be the 'genius' mind of her new boss, Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer. Everything that man did seemed to be planned out to benefit him in the way he wished, and it was starting to give her the creeps. She was glad it would only be another week or so that she would be working under him; apparently he was going on some top-secret mission-thing for the Fuhrer, and after that, she would be working from home again.
She walked down the deserted hallway, the stack of papers so large that it blocked her view of the hallway in front of her. She fought with her stack, trying with difficulty to keep it from toppling over onto the floor. The papers teetered back and forth for a moment, then finally became still. She sighed in relief, and started down the hallway again.
Of course, moments later she tripped over her own feet, flailing her arms in shock, and crashed to the floor, the papers and books following suite.
Oh, nice job, Scieszka, you freakin' klutz! she inwardly chastised her self as she let out a loud exasperated groan. She scooted around the floor on her knees, picking up the papers that had been strewn around the hallway. Seriously, I'm such an idiot! Why do I have to be so clumsy? In all her scuffling across the floor and inward reprimanding, she didn't notice the sound of someone approaching. As Scieszka grabbed a large case file in a manila folder (which had accidentally opened in the fall), a piece of paper slipped out of it and floated to the ground somewhere behind her. Without even bothering to turn around, she reached back with her free hand and grabbed for the paper.
Instead, what she got was a handful of cold leather.
Scieszka froze. She slowly turned her gaze around and found her hand on the toe of a slick black military boot.
Oh, please let it not be the Fuhrer… She thought fearfully as she looked up at whosever foot she had just groped.
A pair of tired, clear blue eyes met hers, a calm, questioning look within them. She recognized them instantly.
"Lieutenant Havoc!" She shouted in surprise, jumping instantly to her feet.
The lethargic lieutenant was taken aback slightly by Scieszka's sudden eruption. "Uh, you dropped this," he said, handing to her the wayward paper he had picked up.
"Oh thanks," she said, quickly snatching the paper from his outstretched hand, and returning to picking up the mess of paper on the ground, her initial surprise having worn off.
Havoc stood where he was for a moment, feeling slightly awkward watching Scieszka crawl across the ground grabbing papers and books. "Uh, d'ya need—"
"No I'm fine," she returned quickly, continuing to pile up the documents into a new stack. Havoc stood frozen by Scieszka's snippy retort. Even so, he went to pick up the last book on the floor, which was beside his foot. To his shock and bewilderment, however, she appeared seemingly out of nowhere and got it first. He sighed, hanging his head slightly. When he looked up, Scieszka had already picked up the messy pile, and was heading down the hallway, in the opposite direction he was going. He didn't move for a moment, watching her scuttle around the same corner he had just come around.
"Uh, you're welcome?" he said to the empty hallway before sighing once more and heading down the hallway.
However, the hallway wasn't entirely empty. Colonel Mustang stood at the corner of the intersecting ways, watching as Scieszka walked quickly past him. She made no indication that she saw him; either that, or she just chose to ignore him. He knew that the latter was more likely. She was still upset with him for stopping the investigation of the now Brigadier General Maes Hughes' death. He sighed. He didn't blame her; part of him felt the same way. But there was more to the situation than she understood…
He didn't mean to make people dislike him; it came with the territory, he supposed. But that wasn't a good enough excuse for him not to feel guilty about the people he hurt. There just never seemed like there was anything that he could do about it.
His body stiffened. An idea had just surfaced in his mind, a slightly evil, slightly saintly, yet completely perfect plan to give two people something to brighten their lives in a way they didn't think possible. It certainly wouldn't make up for all his sins; as far as he was concerned, nothing could do that. But if he could give these two people something so important, then that counted for something, didn't it? It was, after all, something amazing, something truly priceless and beyond words…
Each other.
Colonel Mustang smiled smugly to himself as he headed down the hallway toward home, already plotting out his course of action for the following morning.
Thanks for reading! Let me what you think! Constuctive criticism welcome! Buddi-chan