The internet works again thank god
So, Fic, and the Embyrr once again slips into a contest hours before the deadline (hopefully).
Title: Ducks
Pairing: Fuery/Ed
Word Count: 1,569
Author: Embyrr922
Rating: PG for mild cursing
Summary: Maybe, Cain reflected, the great Edward Elric wasn't as unapproachable as he'd thought.
Edward Elric, Cain reflected, was less a person than a force of nature: a tidal wave, or a tornado that swept through and left a person staring, gaping and wondering what had happened to the orderly world that had been so thoroughly destroyed. Edward Elric refused to be overlooked, underestimated, or neglected, always demanding not only the spotlight, but center stage, too. Edward Elric, who had been thrown everything fate could come up with and still come out on top, was formidable at best, terrifying at worst.
Edward Elric wasn't the sort of person someone as shy as Cain Fuery should have a crush on.
Ed - eighteen, handsome, and about an inch taller than the colonel - had restored his brother, retired from active military duty, and achieved his life's goal of not being short, all before he was old enough to drink. And, Cain thought, watching the young man over the top of the radio he was trying to fix, he had enough free time that he still came in to work even though he was just a civilian consultant.
Ed was currently arguing amicably with the colonel over whether lions or eagles were more appropriate for some alchemic code or other. It was a show of how often Cain listened in on Ed's conversations that he actually understood about every third thing that was said - well, to some extent, at least.
Edward's golden hair - he'd taken to wearing it in a low ponytail, just gathered at the nape of his neck to keep it out of the way - hung down to his waist and reflected the light in a way that was far more interesting than the tangle of wires that had at one point had been a working appliance. Cain thought that he was right on the money in the most recent office pool, quite certain that Ed's fan club would be larger than Roy's in about a year; after all, he had direct contact with said organization, being a member and all. He'd even gotten up the nerve to join the ranks of the anonymous flower-senders. Not that his chrysanthemums had met a better fate than any other bouquet - straight into the trash with all of them, he knew, Ed complained about them at work - but he felt better knowing that he'd at least taken that much of Ed's notice. He decided that it really was depressing that knowing Ed had taken the time to throw away something he'd sent him gave him a feeling of accomplishment.
Ed delivered his clinching argument and started to turn away from the desk at the top of the room and Cain made every attempt to appear busy with the mess on his desk.
"Here, let me help you with that Warrant Officer," Ed said, smiling, and Fuery's heart nearly jumped out of his chest at the blonde's acknowledgement of his recent promotion. Ed clapped his hands together and touched the busted radio; blue sparks flowed from his fingertips and busied themselves rearranging and reconnecting wires and circuits. In less than ten seconds the radio sat whole, good as new, on the desk.
"Thank you, sir." He said, slightly shaky: it wasn't every day that he got to see alchemy, let alone the Fullmetal Alchemist's so-called "clapchemy", up close.
"No problem," Ed was developing a devilish grin to outdo the colonel's debonair smirk, though Cain was biased in that observation.
This was definitely one for the diary.
*****
Cain was spending more lunch breaks working on paperwork than eating; he wouldn't have this problem if people would stop sending him all over creation to change light bulbs. Radios he could understand, those took some skill, but didn't they have a janitorial staff for light bulbs?
Because there was no one else in the room, he allowed himself to actually grumble aloud.
The phone rang.
"Wonderful," Fuery huffed, "errand boy, fix-it, janitor, and now secretary, what's next? Lab rat?"
He snagged the receiver off the cradle, "Colonel Mustang's office."
"Oh, Fuery, is Mustang in?"
Fuery's heart decided to beat out Rimsky-Korsakov's Flight of the Bumblebee at double time. "Ah, Fullmetal sir, he's out at lunch right now."
"Okay, yeah, it is about that time, isn't it? Well tell him that I won't be in much for the next couple of months. I've got a pet project that's gonna be taking up a lot of time. Ow! Get off you bastard!" This last was delivered to someone or something on Ed's side of the line, and left Fuery wondering what sort of "pet project" Ed had over there that was going to take up so much time.
"All right, I'll tell him."
"Thanks. Ah shit!" There was the sound of what might have been pots and pans banging around before the click of the receiver cut everything off to a dial tone.
Cain spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what on earth Ed had gotten himself into this time.
*****
Cain was feeling rather overworked, with more than a dozen charges at home, plus plenty of abuse to look forward to at work, he felt the need for a vacation. Actually, just getting out long enough to go grocery shopping felt nice. Cain had always loved farmer's markets, fresh produce, good prices, friendly people, and interesting gossip all blended for an enjoyable Saturday. Arms loaded with fruits and vegetables, Cain decided that taking the scenic route through the park would be a nice idea.
It was one of the nicer days of late spring - warm, not hot, with a pleasant breeze that rustled in the branches - and Cain took the chance of leaving his charges home alone a bit longer and meandered over to the pond.
Upon nearing the small body of water, Cain stopped short; there lay Ed, in the shade of an oak tree, head pillowed on his left arm, right arm thrown casually over his eyes, napping. Cain's breath caught. He stood for perhaps a full five minutes appreciating the artless grace of Ed's pose, the aesthetic curve of the golden mane dripping over his shoulder, wishing he were a painter and could capture this moment with oil and canvas and hang it in his living room and look at it whenever he lost faith in the beauty of the world.
Ed, feeling eyes on him, moved his arm and looked up at Cain and grinned that devilish grin that had Cain weak at the knees.
"Hey, Fuery, I was hoping I'd run into you at some point."
"Really?" Cain was very proud of the fact that his voice didn't squeak.
"Well," Ed said, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, " I was sort of hoping you could help me with that pet project of mine."
I really am going to be a lab rat next, but this revelation didn't stop Cain from saying, "Sure, what can I do to help?"
The look of chagrin on Ed's face intensified and he laughed nervously, "Eh, you can start by not telling any of the other guys at the office what my 'pet project' is." And before Fuery could question what crazy, probably dangerous, potentially illegal alchemic business he'd gotten himself into, Ed pulled out a whistle on a necklace that had been hidden under the collar of his shirt and blew it.
Fuery didn't have time to ask before seven ducklings came running out of the bushes and from the water to congregate on Ed's chest, cheeping softly.
"If word of this gets out, I'll never hear the end of it, especially from Havoc and Breda, but their mom got got by a goshawk and there was a cat prowling around and what would Al say if I just left them to get eaten?"
Fuery smiled and scooped up one of the ducklings (and if his fingers lingered a little longer on Ed's chest than they might have, well, that could be blamed on the fact that the fuzzball wasn't too keen on being picked up). "Let me guess," he said, cuddling the bird he'd temporarily dubbed Bartholomew, "it's taking all your time and energy to feed and keep track of them all, right?"
"Pretty much," Ed sighed, petting the remaining brood, "I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in a while."
"I was like that the first time; right now I have a nest of goslings whose mom was eaten by a fox, a nest of squirrelets who's mom was run over by a car, and a litter of kittens that someone tried to drown. And the pony, but she stays outside and doesn't need that much help."
"You can take care of all that and still get to work every day?" Ed asked, half incredulous, half awe-struck.
"Obviously you haven't had much experience with being mom. Why don't you come over, I'll show you some tricks of the trade." It was the ducklings, Fuery decided, the ducklings were what made it possible to not only talk to Edward Elric, but also invite him into his house.
"Yeah, sounds good," Ed said, gently brushing the ducklings off of his chest and standing.
Cain smiled, set down Bartholomew, and picked up his grocery bags, watching as Ed walked slowly, allowing the ducklings to form a straggly line behind him.
Maybe, Cain reflected, the great Edward Elric wasn't as unapproachable as he'd thought.
Title: Ducks
Pairing: Fuery/Ed
Word Count: 1,569
Author: Embyrr922
Rating: PG for mild cursing
Summary: Maybe, Cain reflected, the great Edward Elric wasn't as unapproachable as he'd thought.
Edward Elric, Cain reflected, was less a person than a force of nature: a tidal wave, or a tornado that swept through and left a person staring, gaping and wondering what had happened to the orderly world that had been so thoroughly destroyed. Edward Elric refused to be overlooked, underestimated, or neglected, always demanding not only the spotlight, but center stage, too. Edward Elric, who had been thrown everything fate could come up with and still come out on top, was formidable at best, terrifying at worst.
Edward Elric wasn't the sort of person someone as shy as Cain Fuery should have a crush on.
Ed - eighteen, handsome, and about an inch taller than the colonel - had restored his brother, retired from active military duty, and achieved his life's goal of not being short, all before he was old enough to drink. And, Cain thought, watching the young man over the top of the radio he was trying to fix, he had enough free time that he still came in to work even though he was just a civilian consultant.
Ed was currently arguing amicably with the colonel over whether lions or eagles were more appropriate for some alchemic code or other. It was a show of how often Cain listened in on Ed's conversations that he actually understood about every third thing that was said - well, to some extent, at least.
Edward's golden hair - he'd taken to wearing it in a low ponytail, just gathered at the nape of his neck to keep it out of the way - hung down to his waist and reflected the light in a way that was far more interesting than the tangle of wires that had at one point had been a working appliance. Cain thought that he was right on the money in the most recent office pool, quite certain that Ed's fan club would be larger than Roy's in about a year; after all, he had direct contact with said organization, being a member and all. He'd even gotten up the nerve to join the ranks of the anonymous flower-senders. Not that his chrysanthemums had met a better fate than any other bouquet - straight into the trash with all of them, he knew, Ed complained about them at work - but he felt better knowing that he'd at least taken that much of Ed's notice. He decided that it really was depressing that knowing Ed had taken the time to throw away something he'd sent him gave him a feeling of accomplishment.
Ed delivered his clinching argument and started to turn away from the desk at the top of the room and Cain made every attempt to appear busy with the mess on his desk.
"Here, let me help you with that Warrant Officer," Ed said, smiling, and Fuery's heart nearly jumped out of his chest at the blonde's acknowledgement of his recent promotion. Ed clapped his hands together and touched the busted radio; blue sparks flowed from his fingertips and busied themselves rearranging and reconnecting wires and circuits. In less than ten seconds the radio sat whole, good as new, on the desk.
"Thank you, sir." He said, slightly shaky: it wasn't every day that he got to see alchemy, let alone the Fullmetal Alchemist's so-called "clapchemy", up close.
"No problem," Ed was developing a devilish grin to outdo the colonel's debonair smirk, though Cain was biased in that observation.
This was definitely one for the diary.
*****
Cain was spending more lunch breaks working on paperwork than eating; he wouldn't have this problem if people would stop sending him all over creation to change light bulbs. Radios he could understand, those took some skill, but didn't they have a janitorial staff for light bulbs?
Because there was no one else in the room, he allowed himself to actually grumble aloud.
The phone rang.
"Wonderful," Fuery huffed, "errand boy, fix-it, janitor, and now secretary, what's next? Lab rat?"
He snagged the receiver off the cradle, "Colonel Mustang's office."
"Oh, Fuery, is Mustang in?"
Fuery's heart decided to beat out Rimsky-Korsakov's Flight of the Bumblebee at double time. "Ah, Fullmetal sir, he's out at lunch right now."
"Okay, yeah, it is about that time, isn't it? Well tell him that I won't be in much for the next couple of months. I've got a pet project that's gonna be taking up a lot of time. Ow! Get off you bastard!" This last was delivered to someone or something on Ed's side of the line, and left Fuery wondering what sort of "pet project" Ed had over there that was going to take up so much time.
"All right, I'll tell him."
"Thanks. Ah shit!" There was the sound of what might have been pots and pans banging around before the click of the receiver cut everything off to a dial tone.
Cain spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what on earth Ed had gotten himself into this time.
*****
Cain was feeling rather overworked, with more than a dozen charges at home, plus plenty of abuse to look forward to at work, he felt the need for a vacation. Actually, just getting out long enough to go grocery shopping felt nice. Cain had always loved farmer's markets, fresh produce, good prices, friendly people, and interesting gossip all blended for an enjoyable Saturday. Arms loaded with fruits and vegetables, Cain decided that taking the scenic route through the park would be a nice idea.
It was one of the nicer days of late spring - warm, not hot, with a pleasant breeze that rustled in the branches - and Cain took the chance of leaving his charges home alone a bit longer and meandered over to the pond.
Upon nearing the small body of water, Cain stopped short; there lay Ed, in the shade of an oak tree, head pillowed on his left arm, right arm thrown casually over his eyes, napping. Cain's breath caught. He stood for perhaps a full five minutes appreciating the artless grace of Ed's pose, the aesthetic curve of the golden mane dripping over his shoulder, wishing he were a painter and could capture this moment with oil and canvas and hang it in his living room and look at it whenever he lost faith in the beauty of the world.
Ed, feeling eyes on him, moved his arm and looked up at Cain and grinned that devilish grin that had Cain weak at the knees.
"Hey, Fuery, I was hoping I'd run into you at some point."
"Really?" Cain was very proud of the fact that his voice didn't squeak.
"Well," Ed said, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, " I was sort of hoping you could help me with that pet project of mine."
I really am going to be a lab rat next, but this revelation didn't stop Cain from saying, "Sure, what can I do to help?"
The look of chagrin on Ed's face intensified and he laughed nervously, "Eh, you can start by not telling any of the other guys at the office what my 'pet project' is." And before Fuery could question what crazy, probably dangerous, potentially illegal alchemic business he'd gotten himself into, Ed pulled out a whistle on a necklace that had been hidden under the collar of his shirt and blew it.
Fuery didn't have time to ask before seven ducklings came running out of the bushes and from the water to congregate on Ed's chest, cheeping softly.
"If word of this gets out, I'll never hear the end of it, especially from Havoc and Breda, but their mom got got by a goshawk and there was a cat prowling around and what would Al say if I just left them to get eaten?"
Fuery smiled and scooped up one of the ducklings (and if his fingers lingered a little longer on Ed's chest than they might have, well, that could be blamed on the fact that the fuzzball wasn't too keen on being picked up). "Let me guess," he said, cuddling the bird he'd temporarily dubbed Bartholomew, "it's taking all your time and energy to feed and keep track of them all, right?"
"Pretty much," Ed sighed, petting the remaining brood, "I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in a while."
"I was like that the first time; right now I have a nest of goslings whose mom was eaten by a fox, a nest of squirrelets who's mom was run over by a car, and a litter of kittens that someone tried to drown. And the pony, but she stays outside and doesn't need that much help."
"You can take care of all that and still get to work every day?" Ed asked, half incredulous, half awe-struck.
"Obviously you haven't had much experience with being mom. Why don't you come over, I'll show you some tricks of the trade." It was the ducklings, Fuery decided, the ducklings were what made it possible to not only talk to Edward Elric, but also invite him into his house.
"Yeah, sounds good," Ed said, gently brushing the ducklings off of his chest and standing.
Cain smiled, set down Bartholomew, and picked up his grocery bags, watching as Ed walked slowly, allowing the ducklings to form a straggly line behind him.
Maybe, Cain reflected, the great Edward Elric wasn't as unapproachable as he'd thought.