*Our first collaborative one-shot on here. Please enjoy.
**We don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, blah blah blah. If we did then Winry would be dead. =]

I don't go out on dates often. It's an awkward thing for me – I'm not good at the whole socializing thing, and I'm always on edge. Besides, I don't really meet the kind of men that a woman wants to date when I'm out on the street. And no, I don't mean I'm a hooker. I just don't date. Period.

Which sort of leads me to wonder how the hell I ended up here. No woman like me ever ends up at a formal military gathering. All because I wanted to help that damn guy win a bet. Unfortunately, "that damn guy" has some pretty cruel friends. But, I'm not much better myself.

You can't help but feel bad for this guy. He's actually not that bad looking, he's just… Well, he sucks at the whole flirting thing. And the whole starting up a decent conversation thing.

His friend, on the other hand, seemed to be quite glib with the girls. In a matter of seconds he was chatting up the bartender of my place of employment. When Jean (because that's my guy's name. Jean.) finally spilled to me what was going on, how this "Roy Mustang" had a bet with him that he could get a girl faster than Jean could, I was livid. I knew guys like this. Hell, I'd even had an experience with a guy like that. Guys who think they're the greatest thing to walk the planet and that all womankind is theirs for the taking. Guys who think women are their property. It's disgusting.

Needless to say, I quickly told Jean that I'd do whatever he needed me to do to win the bet.

Jean told me that the bet revolved on who got a date to the military formal thing first. And the way it looked, Mustang was going to win like always. Not this time. Once I accepted his invitation, I was whisked over to be bragged about to Mustang.

I could tell I didn't like the guy from the very moment he opened his abnormally large mouth. "You'd look awfully cute in a mini skirt- What's your name, sweetheart?" I wanted to knock that sly grin off his face.

"Watch it, Mustang. If you play with fire, you're bound to get burned," I replied with a pleasant smile.

Random laughing erupted almost immediately after I said that. I was confused, but I stood there, stone faced and glaring at Mustang.

"I'll have you know for a fact that I like it hot," Mustang replied with a smirk. More snickering occurred from his buddies, Jean included.

"You need cooling. Baby, I'm not fooling." I winked, grabbed Jean's arm and walked away before letting the scowl on my face come back.

"That man," I growled, "is a conceited bastard."

"That conceited bastard," Jean was still laughing, "was the Flame Alchemist, hero of the Eastern Rebellion. Why do you think we all started laughing at the 'bound to get burned' thing?"

I turned bright red. "Damn it…" It totally figured. How the hell could I have known who this guy was?

Jean laughed at my embarrassment, and my blush deepened. "Oh, shut up! Just tell me what I need for this military deal..."

Ugh. I never liked the military. They always seemed like arrogant little know-it-alls who were always parading around their fancy medals and shiny pins. The alchemists, I always thought, were the most arrogant of them all.

"Be thou for the people."

That's their motto. What a load that is. As if they help anything by changing and reshaping things. They're just playing god. If I believed in a god, that is.

Actually, Jean is one of the first of the military personnel that I don't actually hate. There were very few people at that formal thingy that I didn't really mind. Jean introduced me to several of his colleagues that I had seen in the bar that I work at that's just outside of Central Headquarters. They were completely different people sober.

Although, I guess I was sort of different too. It was my first time wearing a serious, formal dress, and I had on more makeup than I was used to. Plus, I wasn't on the defensive all the time. This place wasn't like the bar. People here weren't just attending to "get some".

Except for that damn Mustang. He was hot stuff, and he knew it. Oh, damn… Bad, bad pun… That one was actually unintentional.

"Didn't I tell you that you'd look cute in a dress, doll face?" a familiar voice emerged from behind me. My body stiffened when I realized who it was. "Where's Havoc?"

"Oh, you mean Jean? He's getting us some punch. Now that I'm graced by your presence, I really hope that someone took the liberty of spiking it, hot shot." I couldn't help myself… Everyone loves a good fire pun, right? Especially him, given the element of what could be considered his specialty. He chuckled a little, and I asked, "And where's your date?"

"Coincidentally, she also is getting some punch." I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm fairly certain that social customs dictate the man gets the punch… Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Not trying to tell you anything, except maybe ask you for a dance."

"You know that if I dance with you that it doesn't mean you're getting laid, right?"

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see where the night takes us," he winked before taking my hand and leading me to the dance floor.

He was a shockingly good dancer, I must say, and I looked into his face and said, "Well, someone had better call the fire department because something's burning up on the dance floor." These get cornier and cornier as the night progresses, I've noticed. I laughed a bit, but found that he was actually looking serious.

"What did I do for you to dislike me so much?" he asked casually, as if the words didn't even faze him. Our feet moved deftly on the floor, and I squinted a bit in dismay. That was slightly random. And why the hell did it matter what I thought of him?

"Because you strike me as an overconfident, womanizing jerk that is convinced that nothing he does is wrong."

"The overconfident, womanizing jerk part? That I will agree with. But I know how to admit when I'm wrong. I've made my fair share of mistakes in the past." He laughed again, as if it was an inside joke with himself, and our song ended. I looked around quickly, searching the crowds of people for Jean, only to find him dancing with another woman.

"Hmm… Well, would you look at that? Havoc snagged my date."

"Good for him," I said. "It seems that he's won that bet."

"What bet?" Mustang looked genuinely confused. It sort of made me happy, but I set my joy aside for the moment.

"What do you mean, 'what bet'? The bet that you had with Jean stating that whoever got a date to this thing first won. He won that as well as taking your date."

"What are you talking about? We had no bets…" he started before smiling slightly. "You got played by Havoc. Maybe he's learned something from me after all."

I stared blankly at him. "That jerk! I'm going to get him for this!" I started to storm over to him in his date. I was held back, however, by Mustang's strong arm. "Let go of me, Mustang!"

"My, you've got a fiery spirit…" he said, pulling me back into a dancing position. "It's a good thing I like it hot…" he winked.

"Haven't you already used that one, honey?"

"Well, the way I figure it, there are only so many fire-related puns in the world. And that was a good one," he said, smiling.

"Uh-huh… Now why won't you let me go over there and beat Jean's face in?" I demanded as I was twirled around.

"He snagged my date and I don't want it to look like Havoc has won. And besides, I think I got the better end of the deal."

I couldn't help the blush that crept across my cheeks.

"Perhaps I've gotten a little too hot for you to handle, eh?" I wanted nothing more than to smack that smug look off his face. But I thought of one better…

"You do realize that if I kissed you right now, that smirk would wipe itself right off in the blink of an eye?"

"Oh really? How do you figure?"

"You want me bad, Mustang. Don't even try to deny it." He pulled my body closer, and leaned down next to my ear. Geez, I hadn't noticed how tall he was.

"I'm man enough to admit what I want, sweet heart, so I'll just come out and say it – I find you the most attractive woman here tonight."

"I know men like you, Colonel Mustang. Men like you want women for trophies, and once they've had their way they dump the girl like they're nothing. I've been that girl, and I refuse to be it again."

I could feel his breath on my neck, and he said, "And what makes you think that you know me?"

"Your mannerisms, your personality – I can see it in the way you walk. You'd drop me like I'm street trash once you got whatever you wanted." He pulled back and looked me in the eyes, and I realized just then how attractive he was. His pupils locked with mine, pulled me in, and I was lost in his gaze.

"Take a chance and I can show you I'm different from the rest." And I wanted to, oh hell did I want to. I pulled my eyes away, and laughed to break the tension.

"Oh, please. We both know that you'd drop me like I'm hot the moment after you were done with me in bed." He gripped my shoulders, and we stopped dancing in the middle of the floor.

"I'm serious. I would not do that to you. And I don't know what idiot did, but I sure wouldn't make the same mistake he did by using and then leaving you."

I did a double take when I looked over and saw Jean completely eating off Mustang's date's face!

Mustang laughed. "Hmm. Didn't know Havoc had it in him. Maybe he's a man after all." There was an awkward silence as we resumed dancing, and I pursed my lips and looked at Mustang, who stared back at me.

"You know what would really clear this awkward silence?"

"What's that?"

"…A fire pun."

He laughed, "You know you look smoking hot in that dress right?" I fixed him with a glare, reached a hand up and lightly slapped him across the face.

"Honey, if you'd even like a shot with me you better watch your mouth."

"Shut me up if you can, hot stuff."

I proceeded to wrap my arms around his neck and put my lips on his.

"Ooh… I like that," he mumbled.

"Mustang, you still aren't getting in my pants tonight."