Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ The Problem With Shrimps ❯ 0815 hours ( Chapter 2 )

0815 hours

Office of Col. Roy Mustang

Central Military Headquarters

Amestris

 

 

“Damn, I'm already ten minutes late! Hawkeye's gonna kill me,” said a man with gritted teeth as he raced through the parking lot and stopped on the closest parking space available. As he speedily turned the engine off and hastily grabbed his things, a stern voice ran through his mind:

 

“Sir, you've been coming in late for three days in a row. I have not been recording you tardy for the past three days and this is getting out of hand. If you arrive late again tomorrow, I am going to consider you absent without leave.”

 

With a string of colorful words, Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang marched briskly into the main building of the Headquarters while putting on his jacket.

 

The corridors, the rooms and the people went by in a blur as the colonel practically ran towards his office. He just can't afford to get late. One absent mark will certainly mar his perfect record and he certainly can't have that.

 

The reason why the Flame Alchemist was late was that he decided to continue on investigating on one of the cases that his team is tackling recently last night. He was much too absorbed in this particularly difficult case that he ended up hitting the sack just when the clock struck two…and got up ten minutes before eight. Mustang barely had time to wash up and dress for work and the time it takes for him to reach Headquarters by car is about ten to fifteen minutes, given that there is light traffic. Fortunately, there were only a few cars on the highway and he was able to whiz past the traffic enforcer at the intersection without getting reprimanded.

 

Mustang practically climbed the stairs two steps at a time as he reached the floor where his office is located, again letting out a string of sailors' words as he evaded enlisted officers carrying paperwork. Then, his eyes finally glimpsed the double oak doors with the brass plaque saying “Col. Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist” at the side. Whew, he thought. Then, straightening his collar and brushing his jacket of unseen dust, he entered the room.

 

Everyone was already settled down and starting his or her paperwork. Mustang was about to greet his staff a “good” morning (even though it isn't for him) when he was cut off.

 

“You're late, sir,” said a stern female voice. Lt Hawkeye reached for a form and gave it to her commanding officer. It was an attendance form.

 

“Yes, Hawkeye. I realize that,” replied Mustang as he sighed tiredly. He grabbed a pen from Havoc's nearby pen holder and signed his slanting signature and put “tardy” on the remarks box. After finishing his signature with a half-hearted flourish and clicking the pen close, he glanced at his chain-smoking subordinate, who was staring blankly at the piece of paper in front of him, and sighed again.

 

“Ladies,” he began in an annoyed tone as he glared at the other members of his team (of course, excluding the first lieutenant), “if Havoc's gonna continue to be in this condition until the end of the day, you better say goodbye to your plans for tonight. You're all going to find a date for Havoc. Again.”

 

A collective groan. Black Hayate gave a euphoric yip, pretty much in his own little world.

 

“Sir, if you're going to burden yourselves with such a task, then you will not be able to finish your paperwork on time,” Hawkeye spoke up from her paperwork. “You will pretty much ruin your plans for tonight as much as you'll ruin theirs.”

 

As usual, Hawkeye was right. Mustang wanted to have a breather from all the research he's been doing for the whole week and was starting to plan for something nice since it was payday. The colonel looked at the expectant faces of his male subordinates and rolled his eyes.

“Fine. I'll let it pass this time.”

 

A collective stifled whoop. Mustang rolled his eyes again and headed to his table, thus signaling everyone to continue with their work. As he picked up the form at the top of the Inbox tray, he began to lay out his plans for the weekend.

 

Hmmm…I haven't been myself lately, he mused as he read the first few lines of a requisition form. There are currently no updates on my little black book. Perhaps… He smirked lightly as he signed the form without reading the rest of it.

 

That Marianne girl is really some hot brunette, he continued to mull over as he pulled out a second form. I caught her flirting at me at the café yesterday… then he paused, his pen momentarily hovering over the report. But wasn't she with Havoc the night before?

Mustang shook his head as he signed the report and pulled out another form.

 

Another one has fallen for the Mustang charm, he smirked at the thought. Just great. I feel a little guilty though; I guess I'll remove “fancy dinner date” off my to-do list then.

 

He continued to plan inside his mind while finishing his paperwork. Silence ensued for a few hours and nothing particularly eventful happened during the span of time between his arrival and lunch time except when Hawkeye stood up to get some files from the large steel file cabinet nearby and when Black Hayate managed to tear off the head of the soft toy he was playing with.

 

Lunch time finally came and his subordinates started to fix their things and head for the mess hall. Hawkeye beckoned her dog to come with her and was about to close the door behind her when she paused.

 

“Are you coming downstairs to eat, sir?” she asked, glancing at her commanding officer, who seemed to be in deep thought. Not wanting to disturb him, the first lieutenant did not wait for an answer. She shrugged and gave Mustang a salute and left.