Drabble Post - The Little Things (FMA)
Aug. 26th, 2012 09:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kristenskYet another drabble inspired by a conversation with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jordannamorgan. That and a couple of people I have known who were quietly amazing at handling "the little things".
The Little Things
It began on Monday with little things. The lights left on overnight, a desperate shortage of paperclips.
But, with Falman, coughing and wheezing, ordered home on Friday by the base doctor, Monday was a bit disorganized from the start.
However, Tuesday wasn’t an improvement. And, by Wednesday, the office door was unlocked, the lights had been on for days, the pens were running out of ink, and there were still no paperclips.
By Thursday, Roy Mustang had had enough.
“Alright, what is going on around here?”
He glared at each of his men in turn.
Havoc, fingers stained black from his fumbling attempts to refill the pens, looked ready to take cover. Fuery was already cringing behind the radio set. Breda was shooting Havoc suspicious glares. Falman was still sick. But, he wouldn’t have been behind this nonsense anyway.
“Well?” Mustang prompted. He paused. “Has Fullmetal been in town recently?”
Beside him, Hawkeye quietly cleared her throat. “Sir, I think you might find it’s a case of things not done.”
Mustang stiffened and glared at his men even harder. But, after a long moment, he found that he couldn't recall whose duty it was to turn off the lights or refill the pens. In fact, he couldn't remember ever assigning those tasks. He glanced to Hawkeye for help.
She sighed. “You might take note of who is missing.”
Hawkeye made her exit during the collective, “Oh.”
And, on Friday, a surprised Falman returned to a small but heartfelt hero’s welcome.
jordannamorgan. That and a couple of people I have known who were quietly amazing at handling "the little things".The Little Things
It began on Monday with little things. The lights left on overnight, a desperate shortage of paperclips.
But, with Falman, coughing and wheezing, ordered home on Friday by the base doctor, Monday was a bit disorganized from the start.
However, Tuesday wasn’t an improvement. And, by Wednesday, the office door was unlocked, the lights had been on for days, the pens were running out of ink, and there were still no paperclips.
By Thursday, Roy Mustang had had enough.
“Alright, what is going on around here?”
He glared at each of his men in turn.
Havoc, fingers stained black from his fumbling attempts to refill the pens, looked ready to take cover. Fuery was already cringing behind the radio set. Breda was shooting Havoc suspicious glares. Falman was still sick. But, he wouldn’t have been behind this nonsense anyway.
“Well?” Mustang prompted. He paused. “Has Fullmetal been in town recently?”
Beside him, Hawkeye quietly cleared her throat. “Sir, I think you might find it’s a case of things not done.”
Mustang stiffened and glared at his men even harder. But, after a long moment, he found that he couldn't recall whose duty it was to turn off the lights or refill the pens. In fact, he couldn't remember ever assigning those tasks. He glanced to Hawkeye for help.
She sighed. “You might take note of who is missing.”
Hawkeye made her exit during the collective, “Oh.”
And, on Friday, a surprised Falman returned to a small but heartfelt hero’s welcome.
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no subject
Date: 2012-09-03 09:21 pm (UTC)It's nice to see Havoc finally figured out that SOMEONE had to refill the pens! I can just imagine Falman "buttoning up" the office for the day.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-06 03:37 am (UTC)Agreed! I did consider writing that too, but, first, I wanted to give Falman his spotlight.
--It's nice to see Havoc finally figured out that SOMEONE had to refill the pens!--
He was probably hoping they magically refilled. Just based on my brief experiences in calligraphy, he has my sympathy. Ink is messy and unforgiving for us inexperienced.