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A windowsill, an escaping suspect, and an overly confident Colonel make a bad combination. In pursuing the newest lead on a philosopher’s stone, Colonel Mustang found herself plummeting out of a third story window, hitting her head on the way down yet miraculously coming out okay. Well, mostly okay. She forgot a huge chunk of her life – anyone she met in the last 15 years, specifically. She remembered some major events, like rank changes, parts of the war, and learning flame alchemy. She just… forgot who she learned it from.
Anyway, she now found herself waking up in a military hospital bed, with four strangers surrounding her, emotions ranging from concern to exasperation. The most exasperated face belonged to an absolutely drop-dead gorgeous woman, in the Colonel’s opinion.
“Colonel, you’re awake.” The woman spoke, moving closer to the patient. Her voice was deep, which Mustang found just as hot as her appearance.
“I must be in heaven, if such an angel is here to greet me.” The Colonel rasped with a smile.
The woman stepped back, exasperation replaced with bewilderment. “Sir?” The other officers looked at her with eyebrows raised and smirks smirking.
“Does a pretty girl like you have a name?” Mustang continued to flirt.
“Colonel are you feeling alright?” The woman responded, eyebrows furrowed.
“How could I be feeling any better than I do when I’m looking at you?” She leaned over, trying to get the young woman to approach again.
The woman turned away, ignoring her delirious comrade. “She must’ve hit her head harder than we thought. Fuery, get the doctor.” She ordered, and the young Master Sergeant jogged down the hall.
Roy thought that line was awesome, irresistible even. How that woman’s knees didn’t buckle was beyond her. She looked at the rank on the woman’s shoulder. “Lieutenant-,” She tried again to regain her attention but was interrupted.
“Falman, were you able to question the suspect on the way to his holding cell?“ The blonde asked another one of the strangers surrounding the cot.
“No sir, he wouldn’t talk.” Falman answered, crossing his arms.
“He kept grumbling about getting caught, blaming the Colonel here for providing a distraction.” The third male officer added.
The woman nodded and closed her eyes. “I suppose if we have to take a positive from the Colonel’s accident, it’s that we actually caught the target.”
“Nothing I do is an accident.” Said Colonel of topic tried to defend herself. No one was listening.
“Hm. Breda, why don’t you try talking to the suspect again. Make sure he knows we’re willing to cut a deal for information – provided he even has any information to give.” With the order, Breda nodded and left the room. Three out of four names learned, but the fourth was the only one that Mustang really wanted to know.
A white-coat clad doctor entered the room, shortly followed by Fuery. “So, I hear our patient is having some memory troubles?” He asked, first looking at the Colonel in the bed, then the Lieutenants by her side.
The blonde woman nodded, causing the doctor to direct his attention to her. “She doesn’t recognize us, and is behaving… strangely.” Recognize them? Roy would never forget such a pretty face. Unless of course she did. Which, obviously, she did.
“Thank you Lieutenant…” The doctor rolled his wrist.
“Hawkeye, sir.”
Bingo. Roy had the last name she was looking for, if only there were a first to go along. The doctor moved to the side of the cot, and brought out a small electrically powered light to shine into the Colonel’s eyes. No sign of a concussion. He felt around Mustang’s skull. She winced when he got to a tender spot on the side of her head, apparently where it was hit, but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. He performed another more test where she had to repeat back several sentences. All done perfectly. Finally he asked her to recount history, her own personal history and the country’s history. She mentioned the War of Extermination, and her promotions, but nothing about her comrades or personal relations.
The doctor put a hand to his chin pensively. “It would appear she has an extremely specific bout of amnesia. She can remember major events, but not the people associated with them.” The remaining members of Team Mustang nodded, glancing between the doctor and the Colonel.
“What does this mean for her recovery?” Hawkeye questioned.
“It could be hours, days, or even weeks before she regains her memory, but I have no doubt she will.” The doctor shifted his weight. “In the meantime, she can do any office work, but no field work. Light decision-making is okay, but you shouldn’t let her have a say in anything important.”
“Well I feel fine.” Mustang chimed in. Everyone looked to her. “I say I get out of here and back to work.”
A glance was shared between the team and the doctor, and a shrug of acceptance was shared. “Of course, sir.” Hawkeye said, and took Mustang’s papers from the clipboard at the end of the bed. She handed them to the doctor to sign, and received them back, officially releasing Mustang from sick-bay.
The Colonel threw the covers back from her legs and stood. The team was waiting for her to lead the way, but in a moment of what can only be described as lesbian genius, she decided to pretend she forgot the way back to the office. “Well, it appears I forgot where my office is. Hawkeye, would you kindly show me the way?” She tilted her head at the Lieutenant, feigning innocence.
Hawkeye narrowed her eyes, she knew her superior was lying… But it was plausible given everything else she had forgotten. “Yes… sir.” She gave in and started down the hall.
Mustang wasn’t far behind, followed by Fuery and Falman. Mustang took her focus to a certain Lieutenant’s rear end. All according to plan. That is, until said Lieutenant placed her hands behind her back and draped the papers she was holding juuuuust right to cover Mustang’s view. Mustang looked up to see Hawkeye’s head turned, with a knowing glare directed at the devious schemer. Hawkeye straightened to look ahead, and Roy redirected her focus. A challenge only made the pursuit more fun.
Finally reaching the office, Hawkeye held open the door for the rest of the team to enter. When she and the other members of the team didn’t leave, and when Mustang counted the number of desks in the room, she did the mental calculation to conclude that this was her team. Which should’ve been obvious given they were the ones at her side after her accident, but give her a break she couldn’t remember. She also felt a pang of regret for flirting with her direct subordinate. Fraternization laws were strict enough for officers at different stations, let alone with someone in a direct line of command. It was a fleeting thought though, as the Colonel decided she didn’t play by the rules.
“Ah, so I’m your boss I take it? You’re my direct subordinate?” Roy asked Hawkeye sheepishly. The woman nodded, relieved that an apology was seemingly about to follow. “Well I would like to extend my deepest apologies for my behavior.”
“Thank you, s-.”
“I would like to make it up to you, perhaps you and I have a nice candlelit dinner tonight?” At the word ‘perhaps,’ the Lieutenant had raised the papers above Roy’s head, and by her last word had smacked the top of her head. Not a ‘no,’ Roy would take it.
Mustang shrugged it off and started to her desk. Hawkeye, Fuery and Falman retired to their desks as well. While Hawkeye was compiling reports for Mustang to go over in her time of taking-it-easy, Roy took the opportunity to search her desk for her team’s personnel files. Soon her search came to an end, assignment orders for one Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Riza. Riza Riza Riza. Even her name sounded strong, beautiful, smart. It would sound better said out loud, though something in Roy felt off about using a first name. It seemed reversed, but almost like using a first name was cold and distant. So she closed her desk drawer and left it at that.
The office door opened, and the Second Lieutenant Breda entered. He looked annoyed. As he spoke, it was easy to tell he actually was annoyed. “The guy’s still not talking.”
“I should go in fingers blazing.” Mustang said, raising a gloved hand and commanding the attention of the team. “I bet I can get him to talk.” She snapped her fingers and made a heart out of flames, winking at Hawkeye.
The gesture went almost completely ignored as the team instead looked at each other. They shared a grimace and a whine of ‘ehh’s. “Sir I’m not so sure that would be a good idea.” Hawkeye spoke up.
What the lady says, the lady gets. “What can I do then?” Mustang asked – a silly question really, but again, the memory loss is her excuse.
“You can get caught up on your paperwork. Your reports need finishing and filing, and ours need reading and signing.” Hawkeye said. Roy looked at the giant stack of folders on Riza’s desk, frowning. She sat down disappointedly, although the direct view of Hawkeye from her seat could prove to make the workload feel lighter. That was, until Hawkeye heaved the stack over and placed it directly in her line of sight. Foiled again.
Roy grumbled but started with the file on the top. Perfect, one of hers that just needed filing. So she stood, and made her way around the desk. She purposefully walked behind Riza’s chair before changing trajectory to the filing cabinet. And followed the same path back to her desk. Instead of the quickest route. Riza noticed. After another couple of minutes of papers flipping, Roy got up again and walked the very same path behind Riza’s desk. Once again, Riza noticed. And a third time. Where, on the way back, Roy stretched and took off her coat, asking the innocent not-so-innocent question of “Is it hot in here or is it just me?” Followed by another display of fiery hearts directed at one Lieutenant. An eye roll and a shaken head were her answers.
An hour passed with the Colonel making several more individual trips to the filing cabinet. She could practically wear a path in the floor. Her desk also got noticeably messier, with the large stack of files now occupying several smaller piles. If asked, she would say she had a complex system. In reality? The system was left = boring, right = can’t remember.
Riza got up to check on how Roy was doing and hand off a few more files that needed signing. Upon seeing the mess she pinched the bridge of her nose. Eleven trips to the filing cabinet in an hour, and a gaggle of half completed reports. “Sir, if it’s taking you this long to complete your reports, perhaps you should take leave until you regain your memory.” Hawkeye said, sternly, but there was evidence of concern in her voice.
“I’m fine, it’s just a lot of reports to sift through to find the ones I can remember or are simple enough to do. Because memory loss makes it a little difficult to remember things.” Roy’s first response came off snarkier than she intended. She immediately shifted her tone.“Besides, it would be soo much easier to concentrate with a pretty woman on my lap.” She raised her eyebrows and put on her best smirk.
The Lieutenant breathed in through her nose, closing her eyes and letting a pained smile escape to her face. The attention wasn’t unappreciated, but the manner in which it was given, as well as the location, was less than desirable. She would normally dignify the Colonel’s light flirting with a response, but she had too many thoughts on her mind to even allow one. Her closed eye twitched and she turned around. She began to walk away before the Colonel’s voice stopped her.
“Wait, please, Lieutenant. You have something to say about me, I want to hear it. What did I do wrong today?” Mustang asked, genuine, no sense of malice.
Riza asked, “Today?” She paused, thinking. “Permission to speak freely sir?”
“You can speak to me any way you want.” Roy leaned on her desk, chin resting in one hand and a shameless smile directed at the Lieutenant.
Riza turned around, Roy had no idea the can of worms she just opened. Everyone else, however, knew, and buried their heads in their paperwork to avoid being the next casualty. Hawkeye licked her teeth like a butcher sharpens their knife. “You’re an idiot. You rush into things headfirst because you’re so overly confident that you think you’ll ace anything on your first try. You’re reckless and putting yourself in much more danger than you need to be in. You’re not invincible, even with your alchemy you’re still as fragile a human as anyone else. You fell out of a window today, sir, and hit your head on your way down three stories. It’s a miracle you’re alive, not just surviving the fall but also that I haven’t killed you for it yet.” The Lieutenant breathed. “Every day, Colonel, I have to worry about you. I have to because you don’t.” Her voice strained and her shoulders slouched. She took another breath before straightening her posture and positioning her hands behind her back. “I hope I wasn’t too far out of line, sir.” She stood straight and saluted, staring past her superior.
The Colonel looked like a hurricane just went by. She had shrunk into her chair, eyes widened at Riza’s harsh words and smile turned to an awkward slant. There was a beat. “No, I asked for that.” She said as she slowly sat back up, eyes on the Lieutenant in case she decided she wasn’t done. “I deserved it too, I’m sure.”
Riza’s eyes darted down to the woman, then back to where she had them focused. The wall looked particularly interesting to her.
“I actually think I’ll take your advice, Lieutenant, I should go home for a while.” She slowly stood and put her coat back on. “Could you escort me back to my apartment? Make sure I don’t fall down an open manhole? No funny business, I promise.” Mustang raised her hands.
“Of course, sir.” Hawkeye responded and relaxed.
Roy moved to the door, being first one there on purpose, and Riza fell in step behind her. The two walked silently down the halls of Central Command, and the streets of the city. No quips or flirts from the Colonel, no retaliations from the Lieutenant. It was actually a lot nicer this way. Of course Hawkeye already knew that, though Mustang had forgotten.
Finally reaching the threshold of the older woman’s apartment, she invited the younger officer in. “Do you want to sit down and have some tea? I’ll try not to burn myself on the kettle too.” What in most cases would be sarcastic was said entirely sincere.
“Thank you for the offer, sir, but I think you need some time alone. I’ll stay by your door in case you need me.” Riza bowed her head and assumed her position standing outside the apartment.
“Alright, Lieutenant. Thank you.” She closed the door quietly and padded around, investigating her apartment to see if there was anything there that she couldn’t remember. No, everything looked familiar. Her little knickknacks, her other sparse decor, her shitty furniture set. It all seemed normal.
She hummed and sighed, moving to the kitchen. She grabbed a glass and a bottle of scotch from above her fridge. Maybe not the smartest idea to have a drink in her state, but how bad could it really hurt? A lot worse than she thought, actually, as her first sip already had her dizzy. She wasn’t that much of a lightweight, so why-? Probably the head injury. Yep definitely the head injury. Oh well, saves money to get drunker faster. She finished her drink with a hefty swig and poured a second. She ambled to the couch and flopped onto a cushion, it wasn’t particularly comfortable but it beat standing. She grabbed a magazine from the table, and took another sip before setting her drink down on a set of cup stains. She flipped to a random page and tried to focus, but the words swam around on the paper. She flipped to the next page, maybe she could look at the pictures to pass the time. More words. Next page? Even more words. What the hell kind of magazine was this – it wasn’t a magazine, it was another report. She couldn’t even escape at home. She tossed the folder, which she now realized was a folder, back onto the table. She took another sip of her drink and decided to lay down instead. Staring at the ceiling, she felt another huge wave of dizziness. She closed her eyes to try to steady her head, but ended up drifting off instead.
Maybe she would regain her memory overnight, maybe it would take another day or week. One thing was for sure, as soon as she did, she would scream in regret for how overt she was flirting with her oldest friend. And scream a little more, for the fact she didn’t take the several outs Hawkeye had given her. And maybe one more scream for how easily she stood down to her subordinate. That was for future Roy to deal with; at this time, she was sleeping peacefully on her couch, with her most trusted subordinate keeping watch outside her door.
bonus meme:
