A/N:

So yes, I am still obsessed with Fullmetal Alchemist.

Aaaand... Roy Mustang has completely hijacked my musae smack in the middle of writing a big Ishvalan / Xerxian story that centers mainly on Scar, Miles and Alphonse Elric. It's big... 14,000 words and growing, then this happens.

As always, I am my own proofreader so any mistakes in proofreading and canon continuity are mine. I am trying to get them all.

The State Alchemist's Exam

1.

"You know, everyone is still trying to figure out where you went before you did the written." 1st Lieutenant Maes Hughes speculated for the umpteenth time. He glanced at his companion, who was stripping off his uniform jacket and draping it around a chair.

"That was weeks ago, Hughes," Mustang said, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. "Old news. Besides, it was legitimate leave time."

"You sure you weren't off seeing some girl? You came back way more confident then when you left..." Hughes insinuated, tapping his glasses back up his nose.

"You can guess all you want," Mustang replied, working his fingers quickly through the buttons on the shirt. "But you'll never find out."

"I haven't really applied myself to the task yet. Don't issue me a challenge, Corporal," Hughes teased right back, "I've just been so preoccupied with my perfect, precious Gracia! She's the most gorgeous creature in the world!"

Sensing what was about to come, and burying his annoyance about it, Roy shot back, "After today, that's the last time you are calling me Corporal."

"You got to get through the exam today first, Roy."

"Don't bet against it." Mustang replied, draping the shirt over his coat. He snagged up a black tank top and tugged it over his head. "Did they get that obstacle course set up and ready?"

"Armstrong's been out there flexing his muscles for the better part of two hours. I think the examination board might be going blind by now. If that keeps up, they won't be able to see you in action. Don't worry, his crew has been making it as challenging as possible. I even walked through portions of it."

Mustang smirked as he pulled the tank top down then reached to begin unbuttoning the cape portion of his uniform, adding it to the rest of his clothes on the chair. He rolled his shoulders, then his head, loosing up the muscles of his neck.

"You're in for a challenge out there, buddy," Hughes warned.

"The bigger the better," Roy smirked in confidence. He planted a black booted foot on the chair and retucked his pants leg back into it, before switching feet and doing the other.

"See!" Hughes exclaimed, "You've been like this ever since you got back then aced that written. You had to have seen a girl!"

"Would you shut up if I told you I had?" Roy asked, reaching into his coat's pocket and extracting a pair of white gloves, he stuffed them into his back pocket and looked at Hughes.

"Not on your life!" Maes replied, turning as they heard a rapping on the door.

"They're ready, gentleman..." A voice announced.

Maes sobered up, looking Mustang in the eye. "The last eight applicants all failed their portion of this test. Are you sure you are ready for this?"

"I just love your support and encouragement, Hughes!"

"What are the three portions of this exam again?"

"Demonstration, application and examination; the latter being at the discretion of the Fuhrer."

"He rarely attends these things and he's a helluva tough customer when he does, our Fuhrer. His idea of examinations is where most entrants fail. They're wanting blood out there," Maes warned again. "That's why he's here."

Mustang just smirked reaching up to clap Hughes on the shoulder. "I've got this, Hughes. I'll jump rank past you by the day's end. Just watch."

"Oh, I plan too," Maes said. "Scored me a seat amongst the leaders, and a 100 cens bet with three Generals that you pass. Don't let me down..."

"Which three?" Roy asked, looking around the room making sure he was ready, his left hand patted his other pants pocket, satisfied that all was ready.

"I vowed secrecy, but Grumman isn't one of them, he bet 500 that you'd pass. They all think he's going senile!"

"Ha," Roy barked. "He's crazy as a fox that old man!"

"Seems to have a soft spot though where you're concerned. Wasn't he your advisor?"

"You've known that for years now, Hughes."

"Yeah yeah... You realize that they are going to be using live fire in the obstacle course portion too right?"

"I'm aware."

"That's where three of the last eight nearly got themselves killed. Good thing Doctor Marcoh's always on hand in these things."

"I'll be fine, Hughes," Roy said remembering some of the things he'd heard about the only State Alchemist who was also a one hundred percent board certified Doctor. "Though there may be a few soldiers who might get a bit singed..." He smiled wolfishly, reaching over and grabbing the door knob.

Hughes chuckled, "I am gonna love watching you go out there and try and kick some ass..."

"Try?" Mustang asked as they left the room and turned down the hallway towards the enormous open pit stadium where the exam was to be held.

"Try..." Hughes chuckled again, "People have a bad habit of underestimating you. The fireworks alone are going to fun to watch!"

They paused at the entryway into the stadium and Roy, gasping, came up short, staring out at the huge arena.

The crowd was a hell of a lot bigger than he expected. The stadium portion was two thirds packed with soldiers cramming in for the best possible view. The huge box seat area was stuffed with upper leadership and management personnel. Dead centre was Fuhrer King Bradley himself, seated comfortably, fingers steepled and tapping his chin in thought, eyepatch distinguishing him from everyone else around him. One of his adjutants, standing at ease behind his chair leaned forward and whispered and Bradley's gaze flicked towards where Mustang and Hughes stood.

"This is definitely not a good time to get stage fright..." Hughes warned.

"Why the hell are so many people here?"

"You're the youngest entrant yet to apply for the State Alchemist program, they want to see you go down, Corporal." Hughes joked. "Upstarts in the ranks get a hell of a lot more guff then us officer candidates..."

"If I pass on my merits as an Alchemist they can't really question it now can they?"

"Jumping several ranks up is a bit hard for some to swallow though."

"Only if I don't earn it..." Roy smirked.

Hughes just smiled at him, then slapped his back and began walking away. "So get out there and earn it, Corporal!"

"Yes sir, Lieutenant Hughes..." Roy cracked, throwing a mock salute his way, then he began making his way towards the area in front of the box seats.

Once Hughes was away from him, Mustang calmed considerably, marshalling his thoughts and concentration for the exam ahead of him. This was going to be the most difficult part of his bid to become a State Alchemist. For a split second he thought about her. The only reason why he was walking so confidently before this enormous crowd, and the Fuhrer himself, was because of her and her alone. At the very least he owed her this much.

The thing she had revealed concerning her father's research, still left a knot in his stomach and a bitter taste in his mouth, but the amazing certainty that what he was about to do would guarantee his passing the exam. He wasn't afraid of not passing it, he was concerned more about people getting hurt as part of it. His requesting the large arena and custom built obstacle course guaranteed others, with live fire rounds as Hughes mentioned, would be hidden throughout the maze he was going to be plunging into.

There was a small raised portion of ground before the box seats, and as he approached it, he reflexively reached behind him. Some belts the men wore as part of their uniforms had a sheath to carry a shurikan, much like Maes did, but in Mustang's case it held a small thin metal canister. No more that two and a half inches long. Satisfied he was more than ready, he walked to the top of the mound.

One of the many adjutants in attendance with Bradley, and the several Generals present, had been selected to speak for the examination board. Roy caught sight of Grumman off to the left, glad that he was present, though knowing he wasn't a part of the exam board because of his advisory position in getting Mustang enlisted in the military in the first place.

"State your rank, please." The adjutant speaker said as Roy came to a stop.

"Corporal Roy Mustang, sir." He barely stopped himself from saluting. A quirk in the regulations for official exams was that no saluting was allowed. Several board appointed stenographers began quietly clicking away on their machines, recording the day's events. Roy's eyes roamed the seated General's and Bradley, who actually looked a little bored at the proceedings, though he was stock still, looking at Mustang like he was an insect.

"You are here taking the physical exam portion of the State Alchemy test." The adjutant said.

"Yes, sir." Roy replied, taking in the tableau before him. The general's were whispering amongst one another, some drinking from glasses of water provided, others sneaking flasks of something stronger as they settled in to watch what latest debacle would occur for them this particular sunny afternoon. More and more, it seemed, those applying for State Alchemist certification failed.

"Let the records state that Corporal Mustang has already passed the written portion of the Alchemist's exam with a perfect score. Is this correct, Corporal?"

"Yes, sir."

"Am I also correct in saying, Corporal, that you are only twenty?"

"That is correct, sir."

There were a few surprised gasps and even more guffaws followed by whispered speculations from all around him. Roy barely noticed it all as he concentrated on what was before him.

"The youngest to apply for the State Alchemist program." The adjutant replied making sure it got into the records. "State for the records, Corporal Mustang, what branch of Alchemy you are planning to specialize in."

"Flame Alchemy, sir."

That brought about even more guffaws and gasps and the adjutant, who had been carrying on with obvious boredom, actually stopped and looked at Mustang with an eyebrow raised in disdain.

"Flame Alchemy? Really?"

"Yes sir," Roy replied, growing unnaturally still, a gleam arose in his black eyes.

"Flame Alchemy has never been successfully accomplished in the State Exams... are you sure this is what you intend?"

"Yes, sir." Roy replied, eyeing the adjutant. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the white gloves he'd shoved into them earlier. On the backs, there was a large transmutation circle intricately stitched in red. Roy began tugging them on.

"The first portion of this exam is a demonstration of just what it is that you intend to do in the exam. State for the records what it is you are doing alchemically."

"I'll be altering various components and igniting them, sir." Roy had made the effort to make that part of his exam as simple and yet as open ended as he could possibly make it. It led to more scoffs and a few jeers from the surrounding crowds. He carefully hid the smirk he sorely wanted to give and smoothed out the backs of the gloves. Somewhere in the crowd to his right someone loudly mentioned something about him not wanting to get his hands dirty.

"And the necessary transmutation circle's you are planning on using?" The adjutant hadn't even looked towards Mustang as he asked his questions.

"I have chalk, in case I need to draw them, otherwise the gloves will be adequate." Roy paused, his stillness causing a few in the crowd to begin to wonder. "Sir." he added. The adjutant looked at him, that mocking eyebrow rising at the sight of the gloves on Mustang's hands.

"Well, if you are ready Corporal, give us a demonstration." The adjutant said dryly.

Roy finally let himself smirk, looking the adjutant in the eye. Not two feet in front of the man was a glass of water. Roy twisted his left wrist up and he activated the transmutation circle on the back of the glove.

Then he simply snapped his fingers.

A faint spark followed by a strange hush and a bolt of orange lightning arced through the air hitting the glass in front of the man. Fire shot straight up out of it. Seconds after the initial eruption of fire it instantly dampened down. The man jumped backwards, dropping everything in his hands as people shouted in shock.

Roy's right arm flew up and his right hand whipped back down, followed by the snap of his fingers. A multi-pronged bolt of orange lightning arced out and hit every single glass of water along the front row of spectators with the same spectacular results.

Including Bradley's.

People shouted, pandemonium hit and several higher ranking officers and their aides all dove for cover. Through the angry shouts and clamouring, Roy could hear, far to the left, Hughes distinctive laughter followed closely by Grumman's guffaws. The old man even slapping his leg at the hilarity of it all.

A third person began to laugh. He alone, of the front row spectators, hadn't moved from his seat. Roy looked at the Fuhrer, who has chuckling and idly reaching up to see if the now empty glass in front of him was hot.

The adjutant speaker had regained some of his composure. "Why you...!" he started spluttering.

"You asked for a demonstration, sir." Roy replied calmly. "You didn't specify where."

"The glass isn't even hot." Bradley said out loud. "All you did was chemically alter the water into fuel, somehow protecting the glass itself, and ignite it."

"That is correct, sir." Roy replied, seeing the amusement on the Fuhrer's face.

"I take it the gloves are some sort of pyrotechnic material?"

"Yes, sir. I just need to add a spark."

"Hmmm," Bradley murmured. "The flags in back of the grandstand." He looked at Roy. "Ignite them."

"Sir," Roy replied and looked at the fluttering green Amestrian flags that flew at the back of the stadium. There was along pause and a few people who had regained their composure began to wonder what was up. The assembled leadership all twisted, to look at the flags.

Roy stared at the seven flags a moment longer then barely moved his right hand, followed by the snap, and a spark. Streamer of fire arced crazily over the heads of the leaders and struck each flag simultaneously, causing them to erupt in flames. Pandemonium erupted again then all eyes turned on Roy. He'd barely even broken a sweat.

Bradley chuckled. "I think an apt demonstration has been given. Let's see what your practical application will be like. You can proceed."

"Sir," Roy acknowledged as Bradley waved one of his adjutants to him. He whispered quickly into the man's ear then the adjutant scurried off. Roy took a deep breath, shooting a quick smirk at the rattled adjutant speaker then began walking towards the entrance to the obstacle course.