purplemewit (purplemewit) wrote in fm_alchemist,

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I smell another set of of ficlets coming....

I think I've read far to much Shakespeare in the last few years, and it's affecting my creative juices... not that I'm complaining though. I think that things could go in a very interesting direction from here.

Title: Havoc the Loyal, Part 1
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Roy, Havoc, Hawkeye
Spoilers: Whole series
Notes: Set after the series, after the movie, even. AU I guess. As far as the mention of Meiji, I decided it might be an appropriate name for the Japan of the Hagaren world.

Edit: Fixed a bit of terminology with the gun. Thanks Paul!

The movement of the weapon was smooth, rhythmic, effective. As the slide moved back and then forward again, the problem was solved.

The Fuhrer lived on, much to the chagrin of one who tried to stop it, who now had a quarter-sized hole in the left side of his chest.

There was never any spoken thanks, the silent wordplay that passed between the eyes of the two men as Havoc put his safety back on and put it away was enough. This made the third attempt this year, the second that Havoc had handled. The first was on Hawkeye’s watch.

The position of Fuhrer still existed under the new parliamentary government, but the role had been altered. The Fuhrer was still the commander-in-chief of the military and chief diplomat, but any military action must be approved by the Security Council first.

Havoc and Hawkeye had each gotten their fair share of promotions as well. Now each a Lieutenant Colonel, they jointly headed up the team that made up the Fuhrer’s guard. They commanded the patrols around the rebuilt Fuhrer’s mansion, as well as at his office and wherever he went.

The Fuhrer closed his eyes. He had a habit of that, as did the one he had uprooted. Havoc supposed it had something to do with the eye patch.

On the way back to his car after the interrupted speech, “Lieutenant Colonel Havoc, I’d like to speak with you.”

“Of course, Fuhrer, sir,” Havoc said. He saluted, keeping up the pretense that there was nothing more familiar than a working relationship between the two.

They both got in the same car, one that had been fitted with a pane of soundproof glass between he and the driver, so that no military secrets would fall upon ears without the proper clearance.

“I can smoke in here, right?” Havoc asked once the door had been shut. There were two bench seats running the length of the car, and they faced each other.

“If you insist,” Mustang replied. He kept his eyes closed, and he slipped some fingers under his eye patch and rubbed. He’d been doing that a lot lately. The wound had long healed, but the effects were perhaps still there.

As Havoc lit up, Fuhrer Mustang undid the top snap of his uniform, letting it fall open casually. Why they insisted on making these out of wool when the temperature sometimes skyrocketed over 95 degrees in Central was beyond him.

Havoc cracked a window open to let the smoke out.

“Jean, I’m frustrated,” Mustang finally said. “The situation in the west is worsening by the day. The Security Council has blocked my last three proposals, they don’t understand what is needed there. They need to be shown that we mean what we say when we say it.
That bastard Rendell is in my way. I’m finally at a loss as to what to do. My Generals have been telling me to go ahead and make a show of force anyway, that approval will come once they see the effects, but that’s simply dropping to the old way.”

Havoc blew some smoke out the window. “I can handle him, Roy. Make it look like an assassin-“

“No! I won’t let you dirty your hands for me!”

“You dirtied your hands for us plenty, now it’s our turn.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I can do it without being seen. The team has been training with some masters of stealth from an island east of Xing, Meiji. I’ve been doing some extra on the side. I guarantee that it won’t get traced back to me or you.”

Roy sat and thought. He didn’t want to go back to the old way of doing things; he didn’t want to start corruption so soon after taking office. He fought so hard to get here; he wasn’t going to put his position in jeopardy. “On the slim chance I get caught, I will not let anyone know it was on your orders. As far as anyone knows I will be acting alone.” Havoc reinforced his argument.

“Alright.” Roy said reluctantly. “Make sure no one knows of this.”

“Of course, sir.” A puff of smoke trailed casually out of Havoc’s mouth.

By then, they had arrived back at the private entrance to headquarters. Roy buttoned back up as Havoc got out of the car first. Two of the five Generals were there to greet him, if it can be called a greeting.

“Sir, Rendell has begun sympathizing with the West. He has proposed offering aid to immigrants at the border. He also wants to open free trade with them, like in Xing,” said one. Due to Roy’s connection with the now King of Xing, opening a free trade agreement was simple, and the first major accomplishment since becoming Fuhrer. Well, it’d be freer if not for the occasional attacks by Ishballan upstarts.

“It’s almost traitorous!” said the other.

“Inform the Parliament that I wish to speak with them.” Roy responded.

Havoc escorted Mustang to the debate hall, all the while concocting his plan in his head.


...Doesn't seem to bode too well for our dear Havoc, now does it? This should make for an interesting ride.


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