Hello! This is a serious, crack, humorous, insane, angsty, whatever-the-hell-you-want-to-call-it fic. There will be times where you wonder how I came up with such a weird idea. This is pretty much my place to post FMA characters doing things I imagine in my mind. You have been warned. Yes, that's what most people say when you step into a crack fic, but I'm serious about this. My insane friends think I'm insane. By the way, most of these chapters will probably be RoyAi- mostly because I'm obsessed with it.

Disclaimer: Of course I do- *looks at lawyers* ... don't. ):

The day was turning bright with a new sun appearing, and the trees were blooming, birds were singing... And Roy Mustang was stuck in his office, doing paperwork. It was around 6 A.M. in the morning, and he already wanted to go home! Paperwork is such a bitch. Why can't it just do itself? Life would be so much easier.

Tapping his pen on his desk, he sighed. No one else was here yet! He had woken up pretty early that morning, which was a rare one. It'd probably be more likely that Hawkeye would be late than he being early.

And Hawkeye hasn't been late once.

Speak of the devil and he'll come. The door creaked open and Lieutenant Hawkeye walked in. She went to the light switch to see that the lights were already on. "Sir?" she asked. "You're here early?"

A smirk grew on his face. "Of course! Why shouldn't I be the one to make sure everything is in order once in a while?"

She answered with a, "Because, Sir, you'd probably mess it up somehow." Mustang made a fake pout and she just rolled her eyes, sitting at her desk and starting to do her own paperwork, Black Hayate watching guard beside her.

Damn! Now he had to do his own paperwork. But, it looked so boring... One day, when he was Fuhrer, he wouldn't have to do any paperwork! And there would be woman in miniskirts! More importantly, Lieutenant Hawkeye in a miniskirt... Roy Mustang was certainly a thigh kind of man.

Four men, Kain Fuery, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, and Jean Havoc, all walked in and plopped down on their desks. Black Hayate stared at them all, looking to see if they could be near his mistress. Breda noticed this and sweatdropped. He started scribbling his signatures on paper, trying to ignore the monster in front of him.

Mustang look at his own paperwork. Hmm. Suddenly a paw stepped right on his boot. It didn't hurt him, but he was certainly surprised. Black Hayate came sniffing around the inside of his desk. He barked, meaning he probably found something valuable, and went to a corner to chew on it. Havoc, also noticing Hayate had found a treasure went to go see what it was. His eyes widened as he pulled a black, lacy bra from the dog's clutches. "So, it seems Colonel likes kinky office sex..."

As hard to admit as it was, Mustang's cheeks turned the slightest bit pink. Who's bra was that? Suddenly, as if it had been a dream, he remembered the reason he had been early in the first place. He had never left the office. He found out the owner of the bra, too.

It had been... Oh shit. Oh. Oh shit. The though kept running through his mind. Shit shit shit...

"So Colonel?" Havoc's snicker brought him back from his vulgar thoughts. "You know who has this bra?" Mustang caught a glimpse of Hawkeye. She was scribbling on paperwork, be he swore he could see her hand shaking, just the tiniest bit. Looked like she had remembered, too... Yep. He had done sex with Hawkeye last night.

Yep. Pretty much. "Colonel, you won't speak? Scared?" Havoc taunted, waving the bra in his face.

"Scared? No! I just... I don't wanna say it, that's all." Mustang shoved Havoc's arm out of the way and continued working. Sign, get another paper, glance at it, sign. Even though Mustang usually had no idea what the paper was about, he didn't want to accidentally sign a declaration for war or something.

Havoc completely ignored his request and went around the room, saying(more like yelling), "Mustang has a secret girlfriend! Mustang has a secret girlfriend!" Mustang mumbled some words his adoptive mother surely wouldn't approve of, and took a quick, nonchalant glance at the lieutenant. Her cheeks had turned just a bit pink. He noticed the way her hair shined in the sunlight, and you could see just a few hairs out of order...

Havoc noticed the way his superior was looking at Hawkeye. Then he looked to the bra. To Mustang. Bra. Mustang. Bra. Mustang in a bra? Eew, that's disgusting. He shoved that thought out of his head.

Mustang.

Bra.

Mustang staring at Hawkeye. He looked to see what he was worrying about. Wait, was Hawkeye... blushing? She almost never blushes... Unless... Havoc, for once, got an idea in his head. Maybe because he had been conveniently standing under the lights, or his brains actually decided to work the day, or whatever, but this idea he had gotten, it was good. He just couldn't help it! A laugh escaped his lungs. This was just too funny. He set the bra down on the Colonel's desk, right smack dab in the middle of his paperwork that he was supposedly doing.

Mustang groaned and glared at Havoc. "What do you want?" Havoc laughed. "Why are you laughing?"

Havoc bent down in Mustang's ear and barely whispered, "So, how was the lieutenant last night?" Even though it wasn't audible to someone a foot away, Mustang heard every word, and his face turned a pasty white. His hands were shaking, and he dropped his pen. It rolled in the direction of Black Hayate. He sniffed it in disinterest.

"So, does that mean I was right?" Havoc smirked. Mustang didn't answer. "I'm going to take that as a yes." Mustang groaned and slammed his head on his desk, making some papers fly on the floor while doing so.

"Um, Colonel, I think that kills brain cells..." Fuery murmured.

"And they don't grow back," Hawkeye added.

"So, Havoc, who'd Mustang do last night?" Breda wondered. Havoc snickered, and Mustang glared at him.

"Well, seeing as Mustang'll probably kill me if I tell you... Figure it out on your own." The other men moaned as a complaint.

Up until lunch, the men would look at each other, as if speaking in some code, and would then go back to work. When the grandfather clock on the dresser chimed for noon, the men got up and zoomed out.

"So who was it, Havoc?" Falman asked.

Havoc smiled. "Are you sure you wanna know?"

"Duh!"

"You sure?"

"Yes, Havoc."

"Absolutely su-"

"Yes, Havoc! Now spit it out!"

Havoc leaned in, and so did the other men. They walked a little slower. "It was... Lieutenant Hawkeye." Hearing what Havoc had said, Fuery tripped over his own foot and wounded up tasting tile, Falman dropped his coffee mug ("And it was from my mom, too!"), and Breda just stared at Havoc, mouth wide open until he started to drool.

Fuery rubbed his head and sat up. "You... You sure it was her?"

"Aww, is Fuery upset about his crush being with the Colonel?" Havoc cooed.

"I-I don't like her like that!" Fuery stuttered, his cheeks turning a bight red.

"So... What are we gonna do about this?" Falman asked, bending down to pick up the pieces of his cup.

"I don't know... Let's think about it over lunch." The men walked to the cafeteria.

Back at the office...

"So, uh, Lieutenant."

"Sir."

"You do realize-"

"I do, Sir."

"Should we start talking about it... now?"

"No, Sir, I'd like to wait until after work."

"Okay! Does that mean it's a da-"

"No, Sir." There was a moment of silence,

"Sir..."

"Hmm?"

"Can I, um... have my bra back?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah! Sure..."

So, how'd you like it? I had this in my mind for a while, so... I also have the perfect idea for the next chapter! Sadly, though... It's probably going to make this story rated M. D: Urgh. I kind of wanted to avoid that. Oh well. My mind is rated M, so I guess this makes the story rated M. R and R! Don't flame! Have a happy new year! Don't die, that would be horrible... Thinking about that, wouldn't it be cool if you had a baby born on 12/21/12? That would be epic.

Anyway, adios! :D