Happy Havoc Day!
Apr. 23rd, 2009 11:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rajHappy Havoc day! :D
I had the busiest day ever, so I'm late reposting this to LJ.
Art:
Title: Havoc Day
Character: Havoc only
Rated: G
Fic:
Title: Happy Returns
Characters: Havoc and Roy:
Rated: PG
Word Count: 1007
Jean Havoc sat at the foot of his bed, the picture of dejection. The telephone, which was normally hung on the wall, was a tangles mess of wires beside him.
“I’m so sorry I can’t make our date tonight, Jean,” she’d said. That’s what they always said. Even when like this one, they said it while they were giggling, with the sound of cutlery and conversation and wine being poured in the background. It had infuriated him so much this time he’d hung up the phone rather too hard. It had crashed down from the wall in a spray of plaster, but he couldn’t really bring himself to be upset about it at the moment. He was all maxed out, upset-wise.
He sighed. He’d really thought this girl would come through; he’d even dressed up for her and changed the sheets on his bed, just in case. Flirting with her over the counter in the café that morning had seemed so easy and natural… And now that he’d canceled his earlier plans to go to the nearby pub with Heymans, he had nothing else to do for the evening. Oh sure, he could’ve gone over to the pub anyway, but he wasn’t particularly in the mood to hear another tirade of mocking jokes about being stood up. Besides, Heymans had probably already met someone and hooked up by now. The red-haired man had surprisingly good luck with women when he felt like making the effort.
He was just taking his good shirt off and wondering whether it was more pathetic to spend his evening listening to the poorly-written but nonetheless engrossing detective radio dramas they broadcast on Friday nights or to spend it wanking off to some of the racier passages in the small supply of adventure fiction magazines he kept under his bed when the phone, or rather, what was left of the phone, began to ring.
Hoping, but not too strongly, that it was his date calling to say she was back on, he lunged back across the little studio apartment and picked up the receiver. Plaster grated against his cheek as he held the receiver to his ear.
“Hello?” he said, trying not to sound too excited. “Lina? Is that you?”
“No, it isn’t,” said a disconcertingly masculine voice on the other end. Recognizing who it was, Havoc rolled his eyes back and stifled a groan. “Who the hell is Lina?”
“It’s my date, Sir,” Havoc mumbled. “Or rather, she was my date.”
“Lost out on another one?” Roy Mustang sounded positively smug. Havoc seethed. “Oh, Havoc, Havoc, Havoc. What are we going to do with you? You’re just hopeless at dating.”
“She’s not with you, is she?” He grumbled.
“Not this time, sorry. I’m not the only other man in East City, you know. You can’t blame me every time you fail to get off.”
“Of course I can. It’s always your fault.”
“Listen,” said Mustang, and then the line was punctuated by silence for a few seconds. “See? I’m home alone tonight. You’ll have to find someone else to blame for tonight’s misfortune.”
“What do you want, Sir?” Havoc sighed. “Overtime work? Need me to trail someone for you? Need another sewer excavated?”
“You’re always so suspicious, Lieutenant. It’s not an admirable trait at all; you’ve got to work on that. No wonder women don’t like you.”
“That’s not the re… ah…” Havoc sneezed violently; the plaster from the fallen phone was beginning to irritate his face.
“You aren’t ill, Lieutenant?”
“No; just covered in plaster. It’s a long story. Seriously, what the hell do you want? I’m not in the mood for this right now.”
“I just wanted to wish you many happy returns for the day, Lieutenant.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Honestly, you’re denser than I thought. Isn’t today your birthday?”
“No, it’s…” He paused. Did some mental arithmetic. His eyes widened in real surprise. “Holy shit, it is. I’d completely lost track.”
“Didn’t anyone else remind you?”
“Guess not. Heymans had offered to take me for drinks, guess that’s why. Huh.”
“I’d have said something earlier if I’d realized.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered. I was focused on this date all day… man, this is bad even for me. Not only am I stood up, I’m stood up on my birthday.” He sneezed again. “Not to mention probably dying of some plaster disease. Well, thanks for the call, Sir. Nice of you to—”
“Wait a minute. You can’t mean you’re going to spend your birthday alone?”
“Why not? Nothing special. It’s just another day. Birthdays don’t make much difference after twenty; didn’t you say that yourself? The last time we tried to make you wear a party hat and play pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey with the campaign map on your birthday?”
“Well, to be perfectly honest, that statement was intended more as a counterirritant to the situation.”
“Figured as much.”
“But you can’t stay in all alone. Are you dressed?”
Havoc eyes himself. “Yeah, sort of. Once I dust off the plaster, I guess. Why?”
“I have some good brandy I’ve been saving. We should at least drink a toast.”
Havoc blanched. “At your house?”
“Why not?”
“I dunno… just not something I’d ever expected. Invitation to drink on my birthday at the infamous Colonel Mustang’s house. Don’t you normally save the invites like that for my girlfriends, Sir?”
“One can make an exception. I’ll expect you in half an hour. Oh, have you eaten? I’ll call in for something, too… do you like steak? There’s a good place near me that’ll deliver if I needle them a bit.”
“Uh… sure.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you soon, Lieutenant. Happy birthday.”
The line went dead in his hands.
Havoc stared at it for a long time, feeling blindsided. Then a smile, small and hesitant, started at one corner of his mouth. It spread like a wave until he was grinning. He laughed, shaking his head. What a turn of events.
He brushed the plaster dust off his face and shirt and went out to visit the Colonel.
Strip Havoc Day is tomorrow! :)
I had the busiest day ever, so I'm late reposting this to LJ.
Art:
Title: Havoc Day
Character: Havoc only
Rated: G
Fic:
Title: Happy Returns
Characters: Havoc and Roy:
Rated: PG
Word Count: 1007
Jean Havoc sat at the foot of his bed, the picture of dejection. The telephone, which was normally hung on the wall, was a tangles mess of wires beside him.
“I’m so sorry I can’t make our date tonight, Jean,” she’d said. That’s what they always said. Even when like this one, they said it while they were giggling, with the sound of cutlery and conversation and wine being poured in the background. It had infuriated him so much this time he’d hung up the phone rather too hard. It had crashed down from the wall in a spray of plaster, but he couldn’t really bring himself to be upset about it at the moment. He was all maxed out, upset-wise.
He sighed. He’d really thought this girl would come through; he’d even dressed up for her and changed the sheets on his bed, just in case. Flirting with her over the counter in the café that morning had seemed so easy and natural… And now that he’d canceled his earlier plans to go to the nearby pub with Heymans, he had nothing else to do for the evening. Oh sure, he could’ve gone over to the pub anyway, but he wasn’t particularly in the mood to hear another tirade of mocking jokes about being stood up. Besides, Heymans had probably already met someone and hooked up by now. The red-haired man had surprisingly good luck with women when he felt like making the effort.
He was just taking his good shirt off and wondering whether it was more pathetic to spend his evening listening to the poorly-written but nonetheless engrossing detective radio dramas they broadcast on Friday nights or to spend it wanking off to some of the racier passages in the small supply of adventure fiction magazines he kept under his bed when the phone, or rather, what was left of the phone, began to ring.
Hoping, but not too strongly, that it was his date calling to say she was back on, he lunged back across the little studio apartment and picked up the receiver. Plaster grated against his cheek as he held the receiver to his ear.
“Hello?” he said, trying not to sound too excited. “Lina? Is that you?”
“No, it isn’t,” said a disconcertingly masculine voice on the other end. Recognizing who it was, Havoc rolled his eyes back and stifled a groan. “Who the hell is Lina?”
“It’s my date, Sir,” Havoc mumbled. “Or rather, she was my date.”
“Lost out on another one?” Roy Mustang sounded positively smug. Havoc seethed. “Oh, Havoc, Havoc, Havoc. What are we going to do with you? You’re just hopeless at dating.”
“She’s not with you, is she?” He grumbled.
“Not this time, sorry. I’m not the only other man in East City, you know. You can’t blame me every time you fail to get off.”
“Of course I can. It’s always your fault.”
“Listen,” said Mustang, and then the line was punctuated by silence for a few seconds. “See? I’m home alone tonight. You’ll have to find someone else to blame for tonight’s misfortune.”
“What do you want, Sir?” Havoc sighed. “Overtime work? Need me to trail someone for you? Need another sewer excavated?”
“You’re always so suspicious, Lieutenant. It’s not an admirable trait at all; you’ve got to work on that. No wonder women don’t like you.”
“That’s not the re… ah…” Havoc sneezed violently; the plaster from the fallen phone was beginning to irritate his face.
“You aren’t ill, Lieutenant?”
“No; just covered in plaster. It’s a long story. Seriously, what the hell do you want? I’m not in the mood for this right now.”
“I just wanted to wish you many happy returns for the day, Lieutenant.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Honestly, you’re denser than I thought. Isn’t today your birthday?”
“No, it’s…” He paused. Did some mental arithmetic. His eyes widened in real surprise. “Holy shit, it is. I’d completely lost track.”
“Didn’t anyone else remind you?”
“Guess not. Heymans had offered to take me for drinks, guess that’s why. Huh.”
“I’d have said something earlier if I’d realized.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered. I was focused on this date all day… man, this is bad even for me. Not only am I stood up, I’m stood up on my birthday.” He sneezed again. “Not to mention probably dying of some plaster disease. Well, thanks for the call, Sir. Nice of you to—”
“Wait a minute. You can’t mean you’re going to spend your birthday alone?”
“Why not? Nothing special. It’s just another day. Birthdays don’t make much difference after twenty; didn’t you say that yourself? The last time we tried to make you wear a party hat and play pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey with the campaign map on your birthday?”
“Well, to be perfectly honest, that statement was intended more as a counterirritant to the situation.”
“Figured as much.”
“But you can’t stay in all alone. Are you dressed?”
Havoc eyes himself. “Yeah, sort of. Once I dust off the plaster, I guess. Why?”
“I have some good brandy I’ve been saving. We should at least drink a toast.”
Havoc blanched. “At your house?”
“Why not?”
“I dunno… just not something I’d ever expected. Invitation to drink on my birthday at the infamous Colonel Mustang’s house. Don’t you normally save the invites like that for my girlfriends, Sir?”
“One can make an exception. I’ll expect you in half an hour. Oh, have you eaten? I’ll call in for something, too… do you like steak? There’s a good place near me that’ll deliver if I needle them a bit.”
“Uh… sure.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you soon, Lieutenant. Happy birthday.”
The line went dead in his hands.
Havoc stared at it for a long time, feeling blindsided. Then a smile, small and hesitant, started at one corner of his mouth. It spread like a wave until he was grinning. He laughed, shaking his head. What a turn of events.
He brushed the plaster dust off his face and shirt and went out to visit the Colonel.
Strip Havoc Day is tomorrow! :)
