Current mood:	mischievous
Current music:	"Prove It" (Bad Religion)
Entry tags:	fic, fmalchemist

I am SO going to hell for this ...
But at least I'll be in good company. ♥

Normally, I don't post fic or drabbles (or ANYTHING, really ;;;;;;;) to my LJ--but because EVERYONE ELSE INVOLVED is on LJ, I figured, why not. :D; This whole Ed-in-drag thing has become a freaking group project, yo. XD

SO. This drabble is 100% SPOILER FREE! ... however, being that it goes paired with this sketch by Chirachirararara, that may not be such a relief. XD

*********************

"Fullmetal--"

"I told you, NO."

Roy sighed and turned a little, resting his shoulder against the closed door. "You don't need to act so childish about this," he said. "You agreed of your own free will--"

"You were threatening to turn Al in again, you idiotic colonel! I was blackmailed into this!"

"--so there's really no need to get so hostile. It's only one dinner party, after all." He sighed. "Besides, I will be escorting you the whole time, so you don't need to concern yourself."

"It's *because* you're 'escorting' me that I'm worried!" There was a whump against the other side of the door, like the sound of clothing being flung against it.

Roy flipped open his silver pocket watch. After a moment's study, he flipped it closed again and turned to knock on the door. "Fullmetal, if you don't hurry, we're going to be late."

"I SAID I'M NOT GOING."

"Oh?" The question was accompanied by a raised eyebrow. "Fullmetal, are you having trouble with that dress? I'd be happy to help you with--"

He managed to get the door halfway open before something smacked him in the face--Fullmetal's long red coat, wadded up into a ball. A moment later, the boy's metal foot planted itself firmly onto his chest and shoved, which managed to send him stumbling a few steps back. The door slammed.

"Look, you pervert of a colonel, I don't need your 'help'! I'll do it myself!" The fangs in that voice dripped poison.

Roy straightened and tugged the wrinkle out of his suit collar. "As long as we're not late, Fullmetal, that will be fine."

A heavy pause met his words; very faintly, Roy could hear the sounds of clothes rustling. He checked his watch again, then tapped his foot for an impatient few seconds. If Fullmetal came out right now, there would be just enough time to fix his hair before they would need to leave.

He approached the door again, raising a hand to knock. "Fullmetal, we're running out of time. You need to hu--"

The door slammed wide open; only his reflexes kept Roy from being slammed in the nose. Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist and still both slender and alto-voiced at the grand age of seventeen, stood framed in all his glory by the doorway. Roy took another step back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

For a job such as this, they'd enlisted the help of Gracia Hughes. While red was a color Roy was used to seeing the boy wear, that dusty shade held little comparison to this; he tipped a mental hat to the silk-dyers for this. That particular crimson was quite striking against Fullmetal's long hair, still tied in its usual braid. A gold-hemmed slit had been cut into the long skirt at the thigh, exposing a patch of pale skin which disappeared into dark stockings. Circling the width of his left wrist, oddly slender-looking in the elbow-length glove, were links of gold set with rubies.

Only Fullmetal's scowl ruined the picture; with his arms crossed defensively over his chest, one could almost mistake the shadows of folded cloth as cleavage. Roy felt his smile widen, and saw the instant reaction on Fullmetal's face--golden eyes narrowed to angry slits, and the faint blush already there darkened.

"W-what?" he snapped, shifting nervously. "I--I look stupid, don't I? We should just let it go, don't you think? Maybe Lieutenant Hawkeye could--"

"No." Roy strode forward, his eyes intent. Fullmetal quailed back for a brief second, then firmed his shoulders and back, scowling challenge in return. Even now, he stood nearly a full half-foot shorter than Roy, and without the broadness of shoulders to compensate. When they were nearly touching, Roy stopped, still studying Fullmetal with deliberate thoroughness.

Then, calmly, he reached out and pulled the tie from Fullmetal's hair with one hand, using the fingers of the other to comb out the plaits of the braid. Golden eyes widened, and distrust warred with embarrassment there, though the boy said nothing.

Finally, satisfied with his handwork, Roy stepped back. The long strands of Fullmetal's hair clung briefly to the material of his gloves, then slid free. Something else lingered in those hard gold eyes, but Fullmetal remained silent, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest.

In that moment, he looked as young as he had five years ago, newly-arrived in Central and bewildered by the sheer size of the city. Roy had to blink hard to dispel the image, and Fullmetal watched him like a hawk the entire time.

Roy put his hand on the boy's shoulder then, and gave him a slight push towards the outside door. He had the sudden, odd urge to clear his throat, and refrained at the last second. "Go check with Lieutenant Hawkeye, and see if she can do anything about your hair. I'll be waiting for you outside."

Fullmetal stared at him for a long moment, and that indefinable other thing flickered in his eyes again.

Then he nodded, and quietly left the room.

Roy reached into his pocket, pulled his watch out, and flipped the lid open. It felt strange in his hand, as though he carried the weight of an entire lifetime.

--end--