Disclaimer: I, desert-storm-cloud, do not own FMA. ::sad::

1: In Which Matchmakers are Made

Roy Mustang's office was unusually quiet for a Friday afternoon. The office, which was usually filled with loud chatter, the sounds of gun shots, dog barks, and yells of men as they were burned, was oddly subdued. Perhaps this was because the Colonel had run off to the bathroom an hour ago after glimpsing the work load that he still had piled on his desk. He had not returned. Or perhaps the office was so quiet because Riza Hawkeye had run off to hunt the Colonel down, menace in her eyes. Whatever the case, the infamous Colonel's office was quiet, and the men that were crowded inside it were completely and utterly bored.

"I'm bored," Havoc said for the umpteenth time, puffing at his cigar with his feet propped up on his table. He was making the best of the time he had to slack off while Hawkeye was off searching for the Colonel.

"Me too," said Breda, noisily munching on his sandwich and accidentally spraying Falman with bits of food. Falman hastily wiped his face, wrinkling his nose disapprovingly.

"Actually, I've just finished my work and now have absolutely nothing to do. So one could say that I am, in a sense of the word, bored as well," he said, cleaning up his work area before Breda could spray him again. Fuery sat diligently working, but feeling quite dull and bored himself.

"How about we all play a game?" Fuery suggested, the child at heart. All the men of the office stared at him. Games were fun, played when one was bored…

"What game would you like to play?" Falman asked cautiously. Fuery tilted his head, thinking.

"I'm not sure…" he said, staring out the window. "Truth or dare, perhaps…?" Breda and Falman exchanged willing glances, but Havoc shook his head. His eyes were suddenly over-bright. An idea had obviously struck him (a rare occurrence) but the mysterious glint in his eye only made Roy's subordinates uneasy.

"No, I have a better idea! We are going to play matchmaker," Havoc announced, throwing his cigar away, eyes gleaming. He grinned around at his fellow comrades, expecting shouts of approval, but they all stared at him in obvious confusion. Except, of course, for Falman.

"Matchmaker- one who arranges a marriage between two individuals, usually of the opposite sex," Falman recited. "We are going to arrange someone's marriage?" he asked, confused. Havoc banged his head against the desk.

"That's not what I mean. I'm talking about the game, matchmaker. This is how you play: everyone's aim is (he paused here for the dramatic effect) to hook up a chosen man and a woman with each other before any other contestant does. In order to set them up, you have to create romantic scenarios between the two individuals until they finally kiss. The man who gets them to kiss first wins the game. The grand prize for the winner is $300 dollars, in cash, from each player." Silence followed Havoc's explanation.

"So, basically," Breda finally said, "we are acting like matchmakers?" he asked rather stupidly. Havoc nodded, and a broad grin spread across Breda's face.

"I'm in," he said.

"So am I," Falman said. He was very bored, after all. Everyone turned to stare at Fuery, who didn't particularly enjoy intruding into other people's businesses. However, under threat of being called a chicken for the rest of his life, he quickly agreed to play the game matchmaker as well. And so, the matchmakers were created.

"Who are we trying to set up?" Fuery asked. Just as he was speaking, the hallway was suddenly filled with the sound of running feet, yells, and gunshots. Fuery, Havoc, Falman and Breda all sprinted to the doors, weapons in hand and peeped outside. The slightly open door revealed a cowering and sprinting Mustang followed by Riza Hawkeye aiming at him, gun in hand. Roy's subordinates laughed at the site, when another idea suddenly hit Havoc in the head.

"Comrades," he said. "The couple whom we are going to set up is- Colonel Roy Mustang and Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye!" Havoc announced as Roy sprinted past him into the confines of the office. He threw himself in his chair and began to randomly scribble on his papers just as Riza Hawkeye entered, murder in her eyes. Breda, Falman, and Fuery stared at Havoc, convinced he was absolutely nuts, but Havoc only grinned.

For the rest of the day, the office was still quite silent, though its inhabitants were no longer bored. Roy Mustang was busy trying to please Hawkeye with his work while Riza was finishing her own, eyes following Roy like a hawk's. Breda, Havoc, Falman, and Fuery were each wrapped in thoughts about how to get the Colonel and the 1st Lieutenant together.

A/N: Just something I've decided to try. Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to review :)