FMA Fanfic: Relationship
x-posted:
[LJ] havoc_fan_club
Relationship.
by arcanewinter. G 1933 Havoc, Roy. Fullmetal Alchemist. No spoilers.
Havoc’s finally found the one. Now he just has to keep her from the colonel.
Havoc drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, humming a little off-key as he navigated the residential maze of Central. It was a little chilly this late in the year, but the driver-side window was open as far as it would go, pulling the smoke from his cigarette just as fast as he could produce it. Just thinking of her made him as warm as he could stand.
He was a little overdressed in the one suit he owned, but he had little to choose from between this and a worn pair of jeans. Besides that, it was a safe choice, and his perpetual nervousness made it easier just to default to the best he had.
And she deserved it. Of course she did. Marlene was just a little younger than he was, sweet but genuine, smart but compassionate, funny but kind. Her straight black hair always smelled lightly of flowers, and her dark eyes nevertheless brightened when she saw him. Havoc guessed she was probably Xingan by some relation (but he was never any good at geography), and she was still a bit girlish in her figure, her hips just right for her waist, her chest just right for . . . well, for him. While it wasn’t the ample bosom he was accustomed to in the seedier performances downtown, it suited her, and that meant it suited him. It was nice not to be overwhelmed. It was nice to feel . . . sufficient.
For the first time, he felt like he was enough, that maybe he could even get away with ditching the suit. Marlene smiled when she was around him, and better, she smiled at him. When he took her out, she was out with him, and when he spoke, no matter how boring he must have been, she listened, and she shared her conversation with him like she really cared that it was him and not someone else.
In short, for the first time it felt like Havoc was the destination, and not just a stop on the way to his commanding officer.
Havoc braked a little too hard at the light, the car shuddering briefly in retaliation. He winced, but the military’s property made no further complaint, and Havoc drew the last drag of his cigarette in relief, snuffing it out in the built-in tray.
Much as he was ashamed to admit it, he still feared that somewhere behind him loomed Mustang, ready to woo her right out of Havoc’s arms no matter how much she seemed to like him. Havoc knew he just couldn’t compete, couldn’t compare. Mustang was handsome; Havoc was average. Mustang was ambitious; Havoc was average. Mustang was young for his prestigious rank; Havoc was of average age for his average rank.
And that was why he’d kept his commander a secret. He spoke often of the colonel, but never by name, and though he felt guilty that he would purposefully keep it from her, he liked her too much to risk it. At least, not yet. Maybe in a few weeks, when they were more serious, when maybe, just maybe, he could win.
But then it would be even harder to lose her.
Havoc tightened his hands on the steering wheel as he turned onto her street. He wasn’t going to let himself think about that. Lack of confidence wasn’t going to do him any favors, and at the moment, he had nothing to worry about. He had flowers, he was dressed nicely, and last time he saw her, she seemed as sorry to say good night as he had been. He’d even kissed her cheek, and she hadn’t tried to dodge it.
Parking the car, Havoc paused as he sank into his seat, reminiscing for just a moment the feel of her soft skin under his lips, kept there just long enough for him to feel its flush, surrounded by the scent of her hair, and just a little perfume. And if he was lucky, tonight he might be able to do it again.
The thought of it made him anxious, but for once, it was a good anxiety, the kind that actually propelled him out of the car, flowers in hand, and toward her front steps. This time, he’d spent at least an hour in the flower shop, trying to figure out which one smelled like her. He’d finally come to the conclusion that it was lilies. That was what he brought this time, gently pink with dark centers. He liked them, as flowers went. He hoped she did.
Stopping mid-stair, he remembered he hadn’t even checked himself over, and with the window open he probably didn’t look the same as when he’d left the dormitory. But it’d be silly to go all the way back to the car now. He ran his hand through his hair, then just ruffled it, and tried to gauge the straightness of his bow tie by feel alone.
Well, straight or not, at least it was a real one, and it was tied, thanks to Breda.
He reached the top of the steps without tripping and rang the bell with a finger that actually wasn’t trembling.
Stepping back, he cleared his throat quietly.
“Oh, shoot!” he heard from inside, and though distantly muffled, it made him smile. “I’m still–oh, darn this hair, could you get that for me?”
“Anything for you, Marl,” came the deep-voiced answer, and Havoc’s smile faded somewhat. Marlene’s father had died when she was a little girl, and her mother hadn’t remarried. So who was this?
And if Havoc didn’t know better, he’d say that voice belonged to–
“Colonel Mustang, sir,” Havoc greeted through his teeth as the door opened.
Mustang blinked to see him. Should he really have been surprised? “Lieutenant? Look, if Hawkeye sent you–”
“No, sir,” was all that Havoc could come up with as he tried to find the least painful exit, his voice small as he avoided his commander’s eyes. When had this happened? When in the past three days? Was it such short notice that she couldn’t even spare him with a telephone call? And how? Just as he’d kept Mustang a secret from Marlene, he’d kept Marlene from Mustang. He’d done all he could to keep these two from meeting, to keep disaster from inevitably striking, and yet, as though fate had condemned him to it, here was Mustang opening the door of his girlfriend’s home for him.
For as much as Havoc respected and supported the man, sometimes he just really, really hated him.
“Here,” he muttered, shoving the flowers forward so abruptly that Mustang took them involuntarily. “Those are for her, doesn’t matter from who.”
Keeping his head up, he turned on his heel before Mustang could come up with an answer and descended the steps, finding the keys in his pocket. Mustang didn’t need to answer. Mustang didn’t need to explain. Havoc already knew.
At least it was now, he tried to tell himself. At least it was now and not later, later when he would have been sure this wouldn’t happen. If only he’d gotten a little further, though, if only he’d got far enough to safeguard against–
“Havoc, wait, I misunderstood,” Mustang finally called behind him, but Havoc didn’t need to stop. He reached for the door, but Mustang caught his arm. “I didn’t realize you were dating her.”
Havoc turned to face him, biting back what he was about to say. As crushed as he was, this was still his superior officer, and he’d still have to work with him on Monday morning, just like every other time.
“Yeah, well, she might have realized it,” he answered lowly, and he pulled his arm from Mustang’s grasp. “I need a cigarette.”
He turned to tug open the door of the car, almost hoping he could hit Mustang with it, when Marlene’s voice accompanied the sound of her shoes on the stairs. He tried to keep moving, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t ignore her. He straightened to look back at her, and it almost broke his heart to see how beautiful she looked.
“Jean! Jean, I’m sorry I took so long, honestly!”
Havoc had expected an apology, but not that one, and he was no longer sure how angry to be at her, if it was even worth being angry now. He was even less sure when she threw her arms around him, head against his chest.
Only slowly did he rest his hands on her sides. “Uh, Marlene . . .”
“Oh!” she started, straightening. She reached for Mustang’s elbow.
I don’t need to hear this, thought Havoc. Can’t I just duck out?
“Roy, this is 2nd Lt. Jean Havoc, the most wonderful man in the world.”
Havoc frowned with a light blush to hear their break-up begin quite like that, but before he could stop her, she continued.
“Jean, this is Roy Mustang, the most wonderful cousin. Oh, Jean, were those for me?”
Havoc continued to frown with confusion as she took the flowers from Mustang’s arm. “He’s–I’m sorry, he’s the most wonderful what?”
“Cousin,” Mustang repeated, pursing his lips with a certain forgiving sternness. “Havoc, this is my cousin, Marlene.”
“It sounds like you two know each other,” Marlene observed behind the large lilies. “Oh, is it from work?”
“He’s my commanding officer,” Havoc offered evenly, watching the man’s face.
“What a coincidence!” Marlene laughed, and Havoc almost forgot Mustang was there for the sound of it. “Then it won’t be awkward if I leave you to put these in water. Jean, these really are beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like them,” Havoc answered almost sheepishly under the eye of the colonel, and he watched her as she ascended the steps to the house again. Regrettably, his attention soon returned to Mustang.
He cleared his throat. “Sir, I apologize for the–”
“Marlene lost her father when she was too young to remember him,” Mustang interrupted. “I wasn’t very old at the time either, but since then she’s always looked to me for that kind of approval.”
“So . . . so you’re like a father to her?”
“A protective cousin.”
“But–you don’t want to date her?”
“Lieutenant!” Mustang rebuked, and Havoc was relieved by the distaste in his expression. “Of course not.”
“Thank God,” Havoc breathed, slumping against the car, and thinking he could still use that cigarette to celebrate. “Sir, I don’t think I could have taken another stolen date.”
But, to Havoc’s dismay, Mustang didn’t look amused. “Don’t forget what I said about my approval, lieutenant.”
Havoc frowned, straightening up again slowly. “What are you going to tell her, sir?” Did the colonel really think so badly of an officer he requested as a subordinate? Was that why he seemed to sabotage Havoc’s love life without remorse? Did he just want Havoc to focus on work? Or were his standards for his cousin impossibly high?
“I can improve, sir” he added quickly. “I’ll try harder, I’ll . . . drive slower, I’ll stop smo–”
Mustang held up his hand, stopping him short as he held his gaze. But the soldier’s look in his eyes gave way, and he waved Havoc off. “I’ll tell her nothing different than what she already thinks.”
Havoc grinned with surprise. “You mean it, sir?”
Mustang looked away with a smirk, but Havoc thought he could see a genuine smile in it. He couldn’t be sure, though: Marlene was calling Goodbye to her mother and locking the door behind her. She soon joined the two officers and took the younger’s arm.
Havoc gazed with renewed appreciation into her eyes and squeezed her hand before reaching to open her door. He glanced to Mustang over her, smile full to bursting, even in that stern presence.
Finally, Havoc didn’t have to worry about losing this battle. He’d already won. He’d always win.
“Mind dropping me off on the way?” Mustang asked.
“Sir,” Havoc answered, casually saluting him.