A/N: Getting a bit side tracked from my other FMA stories to flesh out some of the characters and storylines I want to pursue. So here is some Fuery centric and Team Mustang bonding goodness.

-Yusshi-chan

P.S. I edited a typo and realized I gave Breda 2 ranks, whoops! In my mind he is still a Warrant Officer at this point and hasn't yet received his promotion. Sorry for the confusion.

First Impressions

Setting: Eastern Headquarters, East City, Amestris
Date: August 3, 1912

Kain Fuery took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. It did nothing to stop the shaking of his hands or the sweating of his palms. Today was his first day as part of a team. He had been assigned straight out of the academy to the communications division almost six months ago, but there had been so much disorganization you could barely call it a division. After helping a higher up last month with a phone bug issue—only later did he know that higher up was Lt. Colonel Roy Mustang—he had been quickly transferred to a permanent team. Kain had previously met 2nd Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye during a preliminary meeting with Lt. Colonel Mustang, but he had yet to be introduced to the rest of the team. Hawkeye had been very reassuring toward him and he didn't understand why everyone in Eastern Headquarters was so afraid of her.

Not wanting to be late on his first day as part of Mustang's team, Kain had arrived nearly thirty minutes before his scheduled shift and got a cup of coffee in the mess hall. Most soldiers chose not to linger, preferring to grab a cup of coffee or a piece of fruit quickly before their day began. Kain sat at an empty table near the entrance to the mess hall hoping it would motivate him to get moving. With every sip he took, it was clear how nervous he was by how much the dark liquid shook in the paper cup. 2nd Lieutenant Hawkeye had given him the opportunity to move his belongings and any equipment he would need into the office on Friday night. The rest of the team had left early for the day allowing him to set up without a myriad of questions he wasn't sure he could answer without stumbling over his words. The entire weekend had him imagining conversations or situations he may encounter on his first day, but thinking about meeting his new teammates just made him more anxious for Monday.

Kain was turning the empty cup in his hands working up the courage to start the day when two officers walked into the mess hall, no doubt looking for caffeine. They were an odd looking pair, he thought. The tall one, who seemed to be complaining about women, was all lean muscle and charming looks, while the other was a shorter, stocky man who gave the occasional acknowledging grunt. As they passed, Kain got stuck in a cloud of cigarette smoke and coughed loudly.

"Sorry, man," the tall one said with a half-hearted wave, clearly none too sorry about his filthy habit. The pair continued on toward the coffee pots picking up their conversation. "All I'm say is, if Mustang would stop stealing my girlfriends, I'd be married by now with a couple of kids."

"That would only be the case, if you stopped trying to act like a hero in front of every girl you fancy, Havoc," the stocky man said picking up a donut. "I bet they'd stick around longer if you stopped trying to be something you're not."

The tall one sighed before yelling, "Hey Breda, what the hell is that supposed to mean?! I can be a hero!"

"Sure," the stocky one shrugged. "But you'll never be the Hero of Ishval."
The tall guy with the cigarette in his mouth slumped his shoulders, "Yeah, you have a point. Still doesn't make it hurt any less when they ditch me for my CO."

Kain's ears perked up at that. If the smoking guy was saying Mustang was his CO then, he was one of his new teammates. Maybe the stocky guy was, too. The pair continued to banter on their way out of the mess hall, and Kain decided now was as good a time as any to head to the office. He walked behind his new teammates a bit to try to appear as if he just happened to be heading in the same direction. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts to realize the conversation ahead of him had halted, as had their footsteps. Kain bumped into the tall smoking guy, knocking his glasses askew.

"Ah, sorry!" he jumped back pushing his glasses back into place.

"What gives?" the smoking guy asked. "Why are you following us?"

"I'm n-not following you Sirs," he answered with a slight stutter. "I'm just going in the s-same direction."

"Where are you headed to then," the smoking guy had to bend low to read his uniform, "Sergeant Fuery?"

Before he had the chance to answer, the stocky guy spoke up, "Hey, you're the new guy, aren't ya?"

"Huh?" the smoking guy asked looking at his partner.

"Warrant Officer Heymans Breda," the stocky guy introduced himself. "And this idiot is 2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc."

"Sergeant Kain Fuery," he saluted and received a salute in return.

"Why didn't you say you were the new guy?" Havoc asked tossing his burnt out cigarette into the nearby trash and lighting a new one.

"I don't know. Just nervous I guess," Fuery's cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

"No need to be nervous, kid," Breda smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "We don't bite. We might tease you a little, but everyone gets a turn."

Havoc made a sputtering sound, "If anyone gets teased the most, it's me. And you're wrong, not everyone gets a turn." He turned serious and looked Fuery straight in the face. "Whatever you do, don't ever tease Lieutenant Hawkeye."

Fuery gulped at his seriousness, but Breda must have read his expression differently. "Don't scare the damn kid!" He sighed and motioned for all of them to start walking toward the office. "Hawkeye is pretty great, if not a bit intimidating."

"A bit?!" Havoc yelled incredulously. "Try extremely intimidating. Her accuracy with any firearm is astounding!"

"Not everyone is as stupid as you to ask out the Hawk's Eye, Havoc," Breda turned to Fuery and rolled his eyes eliciting a small smile from the Sergeant. Kain had been right, they were an odd pair, but they balanced each other out better than anyone he had met in the military. Well, not everyone, Hawkeye and Mustang seemed to know exactly what the other was thinking at all times, at least that was the impression he got during his preliminary meeting a few weeks ago.

The trio entered the office to the sight of Hawkeye already deep in her paperwork. A silver haired older gentleman also seemed to already be getting started on his paperwork. The Lt. Colonel's inner office door was closed, but Fuery could hear the faint low tones of the man's voice indicating he was most likely taking a phone call.

"Morning Ma'am," Breda greeted the 2nd Lieutenant.

"Good morning Breda, Havoc," she glanced up and saw Fuery trailing behind. "Good morning Sergeant. Glad to see you've already been introduced to some of your new teammates."

"G-good morning, Ma'am," Fuery stuttered. He moved to his new desk and started to get situated. Havoc pulled an ashtray out of the bottom drawer of his desk and flicked a long bar of ash into it.

"Hey, how many cigs you think I'll go through today?" Havoc asked to no one in particular.

"Lieutenant Havoc, I don't think attempting to break your previous record is very wise," the silver haired soldier stated. "Lymphoma, as well as lung and mouth cancer is proven to be-"

"Lighten up, Falman," Havoc told him. "I'm well aware of the hazards."

"Maybe if you're lucky you'll meet a girl who doesn't care that you smell like an ashtray," Breda deadpanned. "I bet kissing you is like licking a cigarette that's just been stamped out by a boot."

"Wanna find out?" Havoc wagged his eye brows at Breda.

"Enough," Hawkeye spoke sternly, the single word ending all conversation.

Fuery gulped at the quick reaction from the other three. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe she was really scary. He got to work going through an equipment request form. He wasn't sure exactly why the office needed such an expensive radio receiver. When he had fixed Mustang's bug issue he noticed the main receiver in the Lt. Colonel's office was a bit outdated, but it should still be functional. Fuery stared at the request, reading over the information and seeing that it was in fact Mustang who had made the request.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant Hawkeye?" Fuery asked quietly.

She looked up from her paper work, "Yes, Sergeant? What is it?"

"Um, well," Fuery gulped. "I'm just a bit confused about," he paused.

She stood and marched over to his desk bending low to see what he was having trouble with. "Have you filed request forms before?"

"Well, yes, but that's not exactly-" Fuery was cut off.

"Then what's the issue?" She asked. Fuery's eyes darted around the room seeing three sets of eyes watching his interaction with the lieutenant intently.

"It's just," Fuery gulped again. "I'm not exactly sure why the office needs such an expensive radio receiver when the current one is still functional."

"Oh," she stated. "The receiver is no longer functional. It seems that after your last visit, the Lt. Colonel was still paranoid about his office being bugged. Suffice it to say the receiver is no longer in one piece."

"Oh, s-sure," Fuery nodded.

"But you are correct," she continued. "That is far too expensive." She took the request form and looked it over carefully. "What type of receiver would you recommend, Sergeant?"

"Oh, well," Fuery felt his nerves begin to melt away being able to talk tech. "The Kobashi receiver was just updated last year to stretch farther distances. I believe it can receive a clear signal over 100 kilometers, and it's about half the price of the brand the Lt. Colonel requested."

"Perfect," the Lieutenant nodded, tore up the request form and returned to her desk, pulling out a blank request form. She returned and set the blank form in front of Fuery. "If you could fill this out, I'll sign off on it and have it sent to the communications and financial departments for approval."

"Yes, Ma'am," Fuery nodded and began filling out the necessary information while Hawkeye returned to her desk and sat down. Before resuming her paperwork she eyed the other three soldiers and made a short statement.

"It's refreshing to have someone in the office who pays attention to what they are signing off on," she narrowed her eyes as she looked at Breda and Havoc in particular.

Fuery heard the click of a lighter and presumed Havoc was lighting a new cigarette.

"Tck, the new kid's been here not even an hour and he's already showing us up," Havoc mumbled.

"Maybe if you took your paperwork more seriously I'd offer you more compliments, Lieutenant Havoc," Hawkeye stated without looking up from her paperwork. "But as it stands, you're still behind on your deadlines from last week."

Breda tried and failed to stifle a snicker. That earned him a glare from both Havoc and Hawkeye. Fuery felt his lips tug into a small smile. So this was what a real team felt like. It was nice hearing the easy banter of his new teammates and the almost maternal demeanor of Lieutenant Hawkeye.

xxXxxXxxXxx

By mid-afternoon Fuery had decided that Havoc's nicotine addiction was a way to combat his anxiety and discovered he had started before entering the academy. He had also learned not to ask Warrant Officer Falman any question that required an immediate and direct response as he took everything too literally and would give an encyclopedic description for any topic. Breda was harder to read, but by the small interaction they had from the morning, Fuery decided he wasn't as much of a meathead as he let on. The Lieutenant took her job very seriously, but he saw her lips twitch into a small smile just before lunch when Havoc and Breda were teasing each other about an incident which had occurred a few weeks prior. He wondered what she was like outside the office, but quickly decided that was none of his business.

Mustang had finally appeared outside his office about a half hour before lunch requesting a short conference with Lieutenant Hawkeye to prepare for a meeting they had in the late afternoon with General Grumman. He had barely glanced in Fuery's direction, but still managed to welcome him to the team.

"We'll have a proper welcoming party at the end of the week," he had proposed before disappearing into his office again with the Lieutenant in tow.

By three o'clock in the afternoon, Fuery was deep in concentration repairing the main office phone. The ringer had stopped and as such, they had missed a few important messages from various departments and higher-ups. Mustang and Hawkeye would be in their meeting with General Grumman until the end of the work day at five o'clock, but the Lieutenant had reminded them all to stay productive. That was the moment he learned 2nd Lieutenant Havoc was the officer in charge when they were away. Fuery wasn't sure how that chain smoking dunce had ended up in the position, but Havoc must have been a better officer than he presumed.

Paperwork and mechanical tinkering continued until almost four o'clock when Havoc stretched, put out his twentieth cigarette of the day and stared intently at Fuery until he was acknowledged.

"Can I help you, Lieutenant Havoc?" he asked while trying to replace a tiny screw.

"You sure can, Sergeant Fuery," Havoc said exaggerating the formality. "You can tell us about yourself. All we know about you is that you're young and you were transferred from the communications division, so what else is there to know about you?"

"Oh, umm," Fuery finished tightening the screw and laid down his tools before looking at Havoc. Breda and Falman were watching him as well, no doubt just as curious as Havoc. "I grew up in Central and when I was recruited by the military I had my choice of academy."

Havoc raised his eyebrow and Falman nodded as he spoke "That makes sense. There are only four academy areas in Amestris, North City, East City, South City, and West City. Central City is not equipped for training exercises; however any recruits desiring to take the path of officer are housed and taught in Central City."

"Thank you for that in depth assessment, Falman, which we all knew," Havoc ground out.

"You've really gotta lighten up, man," Breda said shaking his head slightly. "So, which academy did you choose? It's strange you got a choice, though. Most recruits just get assigned an academy."

"I went to the Southern Academy," Fuery said pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "They actually only gave me the choice of South or East, and seeing as I didn't want to worry my family with the conflict in the East, I chose the former."

Breda nodded, "You got a big family?"

Fuery nodded realizing Breda caught on when he said family instead of parents. "Yeah, I'm the youngest of six."

Havoc whispered, "Damn!"

"Why did you choose the military path?" Falman asked.

"It's silly really," Fuery shook his head.

"Nah!" Breda waved him off. "Everybody's got their reasons."

"I needed to stand out somehow," Fuery admitted. "And none of my siblings are military. I also wanted to be of use to somebody. I always kind of felt in the way at home, so the military gave me the option to get away for a while."

"If you're the only one who took the soldier route, what do your siblings do?" Breda inquired.

"Oh, well," Fuery thought for a moment. "My sister Greta just got her nursing license and started a new job at Central Mercy Hospital, and My brother Lars is a chef at some top rated restaurant in Central. Emily is a veterinarian out in West City, Sadie owns a flower nursery and store front in Geob near the East-Central border, and my brother Theo is a train mechanic on the East-Central line so I see him from time to time, but he lives in Central."

"Are any of your sisters single?" Havoc asked looking a bit starry-eyed.

Breda smacked his arm, "With your track record, she'd dump you before the first date."

"You don't know that," Havoc pouted.

"Well, I don't think Greta is seeing anyone," Fuery answered slowly. "But she's a nurse, so I'd have to agree with Breda. I don't think she'd even give you a chance knowing you're a smoker."

Breda laughed loudly at that, "See, told ya!"

"You really should reconsider how many cigarettes you smoke per day Lieutenant," Falman responded.

"You doing anything after work, Fuery?" Breda inquired.

"N-no, I don't have any plans," he stuttered.

"Come grab a bite to eat with us," Breda offered. "We'll get to know each other better seeing as you're one of us now."

"Yeah," Havoc smiled popping a new cigarette between his lips but not yet lighting it. "We can have a couple pints, scope out the ladies-"

"Oh, I don't really d-drink," Fuery cut him off.

"How old are you, anyway?" Havoc asked. "Like sixteen?"

"I'm twenty," Fuery answered frowning slightly. "I'll be twenty-one in March."

"Damn," Breda leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking. "They really crank 'em out now, don't they?"

"We spent two years at the academy before we were even assigned posts, and that was during Ishval!" Havoc exclaimed.

"You know," Breda said thoughtfully. "I've got a sister about your age who went to Southern."

Havoc jerked his body to stare at Breda, "Are you offering him a date with your sister?!"

"No!" Breda yelled at him. "And don't you start asking." He shoved a meaty index finger into Havoc's chest pushing him back into his chair. "I already told you a hundred times you're never going to have a chance to ask her out, so leave it alone, Jean."

"Okay, okay," Havoc put his hands up in surrender. "She'd probably never say yes anyway with my record."

"What's your sister's name?" Fuery asked. "Maybe we trained together."

"Marlena Faux," Breda said. "She might have entered the academy after you though."

Fuery thought for a moment before shaking his head, "That name doesn't sound familiar. Where did she end up?"

"I think she's out in West City," Breda shrugged. "Not sure, I haven't looked her up in a while."

"Warrant Officer Breda, I didn't know you had any siblings," Falman stated.

"Breda likes to keep a lot of things to himself," Havoc answered before mumbling, "like pretty little sisters."

Breda smacked him upside the head for that comment, and effectively ended the conversation.

A short while later, Havoc pestered Fuery until he finally agreed to join them for dinner after work at one of their favorite pubs. The final hour passed relatively quickly and he felt wildly accomplished having finished repairing the telephone and getting to know his new teammates a bit better. With only about ten minutes left in the work day, Mustang came sauntering into the office with a large grin on his face followed by a contemplative looking Lieutenant Hawkeye.

"Meeting go well, Boss?" Breda asked.

"Better than well, actually," Mustang clapped his hands together and held out his arm to gesture toward Hawkeye. "I'd like to announce we have a 1st Lieutenant on our team!"

"Congratulations on your promotion, Lieutenant!" Falman smiled and was accompanied by congratulations from Breda and Fuery as well as a whoop of excitement from Havoc.

"Thank you Falman," Hawkeye said with barely a hint of a pleased tone. "It seems Lt. Colonel Mustang was aware of my upcoming promotion and led me to believe the meeting with Grumman was about something completely different."

Mustang chuckled, "We should go out to celebrate."

"Well, we were already planning on going out tonight to get to know our new team member better," Breda gestured with his head toward Fuery. "I think we can tack on a round of drinks from the Lt. Colonel to celebrate our new 1st Lieutenant."

"Yes of course," Mustang grinned eying Fuery. "Wait, no! I'm not paying for you lot again! I left with an empty pocketbook last month when Havoc was promoted!"

"Sorry, Boss," Havoc grinned, unlit cigarette still hanging out of his mouth. "No takebacks."

"Havoc is correct," Falman began. "The no takebacks rule was implemented-"

"I am aware, Falman," Mustang ground out.

"I'm sure you can afford one round, Sir," Hawkeye smirked. "After all, you were just telling me about the impressive raise Grumman offered you this afternoon."

The other men snickered and Fuery realized Hawkeye was a force to be reckoned with. A strong sense of duty mixed with a sly sense of humor were a dangerous combination.

"One round," Mustang put up an index finger and locked eyes with every team member. "Beer and wine only, I haven't received my raise yet."

"You're the only one who drinks liquor," Havoc pointed out.

Mustang rolled his shoulders, "Let's head out." Havoc and Breda were quick to set their unfinished work aside and head toward the office door. Falman cleared his desk and reminded Havoc to empty his ashtray before leaving for the day. Mustang approached Fuery.

"I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to have a quick chat about your role here," he apologized. "But I'm sure our lovely Lieutenant was able to find something to keep you occupied today."

"He was quite helpful in suggesting a new radio receiver for your office, Sir," Hawkeye stated while organizing her desk and fetching a small purse from the bottom drawer of her desk.

"I already put in a request for a new receiver," Mustang turned his head to look at her.

"Yes, you did," she said. "But Fuery brought it to my attention that the receiver you were requesting was overly expensive and not as efficient as other models. Our new Sergeant made an effective recommendation that will cost the department less and is more reliable."

"I see," he said. If Mustang was annoyed, he didn't show it. Fuery let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding and finished clearing his desk. Hawkeye gave him a slight nod signaling it was okay to leave the office, which he did swiftly. Falman had convinced Havoc and Breda to wait for him and the four made their way to one of Team Mustang's favorite haunts.

xxXxxXxxXxx

The group had managed to find a corner booth that would fit all six of them with the exception of Breda, who preferred to sit at the end in a chair. Fuery's beer sat in front of him, barely touched. He really wasn't very fond of the stuff, he knew the more he drank the easier it would be to tolerate it, but he hated the way he felt when he got drunk. Havoc and Breda had convinced Mustang to buy a second round after pounding back their first pints. Falman and Hawkeye both sipped their red wines, while Mustang nursed his thin pocketbook with a glass of whiskey.

"Don't feel bad for him, Fuery," Havoc said nudging him with his elbow. "Mustang is practically loaded; it won't kill him if you have more than one drink."

Fuery pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Oh, no it's fine. I already told you I don't really drink."

"So what do you do to unwind after work, then?" Havoc asked as if drinking was the only possible answer.

"Uh read mostly," Fuery said blushing a bit from the awkwardness he was feeling.

"Pff, boring," Havoc sang. "Don't you have any hidden talents?"

"What like you?" Mustang deadpanned at the tall blonde. "It seems your talent is not being able to keep a girlfriend."

Havoc sputtered like a fish out of water, "If someone didn't keep stealing all my girlfriends, maybe I'd be married by now!"

"I'm not the problem, Havoc," Mustang smirked. "You're, what did you just call our new Sergeant, boring."

"I am not boring!" Havoc grumbled. "I do plenty!"

"Like what?" Mustang asked. "Enlighten me."

"I go out on a lot of dates," Havoc said.

"Yeah, a different girl every week," Breda chimed in. Havoc glared in his direction.

"You accompany me to the shooting range," Hawkeye spoke up. Havoc pointed toward her as a thanking gesture. "Speaking of which, your scores were lower this month considering you just earned a promotion." Havoc slumped.

"What is this?!" he growled. "I thought we were supposed to be celebrating or something."

"We are," Mustang said placing an arm around Hawkeye and giving a light squeeze before moving away again.

"Have you read anything good, lately, Fuery," Hawkeye asked politely.

"Umm, well, I don't know if it would be anything you would enjoy Lieutenant, but I find it interesting," Fuery answered. "It's a biographical look at the invention of long distance communication devices and there's some talk about better models in the works. It's possible we could be able to send signals into space in the future, it's quite fascinating actually."

"You really love all that tech stuff, don't ya?" Breda stated.

Fuery nodded, his cheeks reddening. He took another gulp of his beer in an attempt to hide his face. Conversation continued, mostly Havoc whining, before Hawkeye got him on the topic of guns. It seemed the two bonded over their passion for firearms. Fuery contributed when he was called upon, but he still felt a bit out of place. They were all so comfortable with each other, and he was the odd one out. He wondered how each of them met each other. He had, of course, already worked out that Breda and Havoc had attended the academy together and it seemed Mustang and Hawkeye had known each other for quite some time. Mustang was definitely the center of the group, being the CO, but there was certainly something about him that made others gravitate toward him. He was sure Havoc didn't put up with the jokes at his expense just for the job; there was a deeper connection there.

By seven o'clock, Falman was on his way out. He was the only one of the group who was married and had children. By eight o'clock, Havoc had tried his luck with three different women at the bar, all of which had turned him down. Mustang was luckier in their regard; he got phone numbers from all three of the same ladies and proved Havoc's point that he had no chance when the Flame Alchemist was around. With all the talk of women, Fuery was surprised Hawkeye hadn't skipped out on the conversation or that Breda hadn't tried to pick up any of the women at the bar.

Havoc was nursing his bad luck with his sixth beer of the night. Fuery was amazed by the man's tolerance level, but then remembered not only was he tall, but he had worked up his tolerance over time. By nine o'clock, Fuery was ready to call it quits, but wasn't sure how to announce he was taking off. He must have been squirming enough for Mustang to say something.

"It's quite alright if you want to leave, Sergeant," he told him. "Those two," he gestured toward Havoc and Breda, "will still be here for a while."

"Oh okay," Fuery nodded. He made to stand up and Hawkeye rose at the same time.

"I'm headed out for the night as well," she announced. "Where do you live Sergeant? Maybe we can split cab fare."

"Oh, I'm in the dorms, Ma'am," he said.

She nodded, "Very well, good night gentlemen. I expect full performance tomorrow despite the impending hangovers." She eyed both Mustang and Havoc. Breda had slowed down after his first two and it seemed he wasn't terribly affected by the alcohol.

Hawkeye walked out with Fuery and just as he was about to say good night she spoke up.

"Don't let them get to you, Fuery," she smiled. "They can be a rowdy bunch, but we do good work together."

"O-of course, Ma'am," Fuery smiled back. "I was actually wondering how everyone met. You all seem so comfortable around each other."

She shrugged, "It comes with time. The Lt. Colonel and I served in Ishval together. Havoc served in Ishval as well, a different division. And as I'm sure you know, Havoc and Breda attended the academy together. The two are thick as thieves, and can been insufferable together, but they're good soldiers. Falman was an opportunistic acquisition, as were you."

Fuery's eyes widened, "Opportunistic, Ma'am?"

"The Lt. Colonel was impressed by your knowledge and performance when you solved that bugging issue in his office. He wasn't willing to take the chance that someone else would notice your skills and recruit you first," she explained. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Sergeant. The camaraderie will develop in time, but I believe you fit right in."

Fuery blushed at the compliments and wondered if the wine was the cause for Hawkeye's willingness to offer up so much information. Whatever the reason, her words settled his nervous mind and he was thankful.

"Have a good night, Fuery," she waved goodbye before walking to the curb to hail a cab.

"Goodnight, Lieutenant," Fuery smiled and waved back. Plunging his hands into his pockets, Fuery made his way to the dorms smiling more than he had since his graduation day. He finally felt like he could do some good and be useful to someone. It was a relief to find his place in the military.