Pastime Disasters

Notes before reading.
Edward Elric is eighteen in this fiction, as he appeared in the film although the story has no connection with it.

Chapter One.

Pant. Pant. Pant.

“You look like a complete prat, you know that?”

“Shut...” Gasp. “Up...” Gasp. “Fullmetal...”

“I would, but I thought I’d better tell you, just in case you didn’t know, put you out of your misery and all that.”

“Oh really,” The accentuated sarcasm was almost painful. “Thanks, thanks a lot Edward.”

Needless to say, Roy Mustang was having a bad day.

Lately, it had come to the colonel’s attention that he was somewhat differing from his peak physical condition. In his mind this was down to two factors:

One: The increase of paperwork and minimal amount of field work.

Two: Living in comfortable walking distance of the local pub, NEVER a good thing (especially for Roy’s liver, which was currently whimpering pathetically).

Anyway, due to these Roy had found himself not quite a toned as he had been, with squashy bits where there had been no squashy bits before. Of course there had been no change in his physical appearance; Mustang looked just as dashing as ever. It was just that he didn’t feel he was meeting his own personal standards, yourself being your own harshest critic and all that.

On the whole, all this had amounted to one thing.

Running.

It was perfect! There was no need to purchase any torturous looking machines and you could do it with your own two legs! Anywhere!

Roy, for reasons unknown, had decided that place would be the central building, doing a lap around it daily.

At first it had been embarrassing, every day before work Roy having to strip off his uniform and do a lap around the office building. It can do things to a man’s ego, having people point in wonder at knees only recently revealed to the sun.

He had liked to think that after the initial embarrassment it would go down, after all, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, so he was sure he could survive having to wear a fetching pair of blue shorts.

Sadly, this hopeful belief was to be proved false.

Edward Elric made sure of that.

It had become a daily amusement for Fullmetal to ritually mock Roy during his morning routine. He was sure Ed stayed up the previous night simply to come up with new ways to humiliate him.

It had all begun on his third day of running...

Flashback.

Gasping for air Roy clutched at the building’s wall for support.

This was not as easy as it looked.

How was he supposed to reap the benefits of a healthy life style from running if it bloody killed him first?!?

Mouth as moist as a desert Roy grasped for the water bottle at his side. Raising the plastic container and gulping down its contents Mustang’s vision of the building grounds was abruptly blocked by a red-cloaked figure.

It took a moment for face and name to click.

“Fullmetal..? What are you doing here?” Edward normally avoided the colonel unless on official business, and there weren’t any assignments due, so why the blonde had hunted him down was a mystery to Roy.

“Oh, me?” Fullmetal’s voice was suspiciously sing-songy. “Only seeing how my dear colonel is on this fine morning.”

Alarm bells went off in Mustang’s head. Since when had he been a dear colonel?!? Bastard was fine, he’d gotten used to that, but dear...

He decided to get to the point, that grin was off-putting...

“What is it, Edward?” Mustang’s voice was huskier than usual from the exercise.

Smiling so hard that it looked like the top of his head was in danger of falling off Fullmetal replied with accentuated feigned innocence. “Huh? Oh, I just thought I’d come and see for myself...”

It was too much of a hook for Roy to resist.

“And what exactly does that mean, Fullmetal?” He knew he probably wouldn’t want to know the answer, but when Roy’s interest was piqued there was no stopping it.

“What?” Ed was still trying to maintain his angelic demeanour but cruel amusement was beginning to crack it. “Oh, I meant I just wanted to get a look at the great Flame Colonel reduced to having to do laps to keep fit. Having trouble keeping off the pounds sir?”

Well that stung.

Despite the comic side what Edward had just said, there was a definitely had a cruel tang to the words, something absent from the pair’s usual banter.

It took Roy a few moments to get up his defensive ‘Mustang-the-stud’ persona to stop his face from dropping. That one had hurt.

“I have no idea what you mean, Edward.” Roy said, voice a definite tone colder than it had been a few moments ago. “If you’re trying to suggest my physical health is anything less than impeccable then you’re wrong, the running is simply something I’ve picked up to keep it that way. Now if you’ll excuse me...” Having gathered himself Mustang began to run again, anything to get away from the sudden sting that was Edward. Looking over his shoulder at the retreating figure of Edward Elric, Mustang called “I’ll see you when you next report.” As an icy sort of goodbye.

Trouble keeping off the pounds indeed...he mused, feet hitting the floor in a steady rhythm, Roy finding himself in a far worse mood than he had been before the exchange.

Unknown to Roy, however, he was not the only one who had been upset by their conversation.

Edward remained where he had been left, watching the distancing figure of the colonel.

His sunny countenance had disappeared, replaced by a disappointed hurt look, something which, unnoticed by Roy, had crept up on his features as Mustang had given him his cool reply.

Sighing as Mustang’s footfalls became fainter and fainter, Fullmetal whispered the source of his troubles.

“How do I get you to notice me?”

And he had no idea that he was going about it completely the wrong way...

End of flashback.

To be continued...
.:.

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