FMA Christmas
To all you wonderful people (who are FMA fans), a very Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noel ♥
A/N: Unabashed Christmas fluff, PG-13, Roy/Ed and an unhealthy obession with Christmas carols (one in particular). Unbeta-ed. And terribly OOC. But then, let's think of it as a Christmas truce.
This was the ‘famous Armstrong family Christmas carolling and dinner party, passed down through generations’. Or at least, that was what Major Armstrong would tell you at the door to his palatial family home. And in addition, pump your hand vigorously until it lost all feeling.
What a load of rot, thought Roy moodily, picking at his turkey, which the menu claimed to having been marinated in ‘special Armstrong family sauce’, and wincing at the incredibly off-key (probably traditionally so) rendition of ‘Silent Night’. A particularly high pitched warble saw him dropping his fork and cringing when it met the ground with a loud chime of protest. Bending down to pick it up gave him a good view up Hawkeye’s skirt, but the treat was prematurely cut short by her aiming a kick at his nose. It connected (painfully) and he ducked out in a hurry, bumping his head on the table and earning an annoyed snort from Fullmetal, who was seated on his right. Roy had never felt so embarrassed in his life.
Thus, it was with some relief (and no certain amount of trepidation) that he greeted the request for the guests to move to the hall to open their presents.
“…and of course, according to tradition, you’ll have to hunt for your present yourself around the Christmas tree.”
Roy took one look at the miniature mountain of presents and gulped. He’d wait until the pile cleared a little. But most greeted the idea with greater enthusiasm, and soon, the area was a mass of pushing, shoving bodies.
“It’s mine!”
“No it isn’t, it has MY name on it!”
Lust was the first to find hers.
“Oh! Five golden rings!” She beamed happily at everyone and amused herself with placing them, one by one, on each of her long fingers.
Hawkeye followed a close second. She wrestled her way through the frenzied throng, waving the wrapped parcel triumphantly. She tore open the wrapping paper excitedly.
“Two turtledove paperweights!” she cooed. Scar stood up brandishing six fine, plump geese. Havoc’s eyes started to glaze over.
“Sorry, Colonel, but I can’t wait anymore. I’m going innnnn!” And Roy was left lounging alone on one of the Major's incredibly large and soft sofas.
Gradually, the pile of gifts grew smaller. And smaller. And smaller, until at last, the space underneath the tree was empty.
EMPTY?
Roy stood up with a jerk. But he hadn’t collected his present yet! Even Armstrong was looking around in surprise.
“Erm, Colonel, your present seems to have disappeared.”
A frantic search for the missing present ensued, with nobody looking for it harder than Roy. A whisper went up that Gluttony must have eaten it, a charge which he furiously denied. But as time wore on and the present showed no signs of showing itself, it started to look as if he was guilty party after all.
It was Black Hayate who noticed the wrapped crate standing in the corner of the room. He snuffed at it, and whined.
Armstrong glanced at the tag, then at the crate, and at the tag again.
“I don’t remember your present being quite this large, Colonel.”
Hawkeye pushed her way to the front of the crowd. She stood in front of Roy, separating him from the crate.
“Don’t open it, Colonel. What if it’s a bomb?”
Black Hayate scratched the crate and whined again. Roy decided then that if he didn’t open it, he’d die of suspense anyway.
The wrapping paper was quickly torn off and the top pushed back to reveal Fullmetal blinking muzzily from within.
“Ed-kun! What are you wearing?!”
Hawkeye’s horrified exclamation seemed to shock him into his senses. He stood up, realised that that gave everybody the best view of his white feather tutu, and sheepishly sank down again.
Roy reached into the crate and drew out a pear. He looked at it in askance, then bit down. And chewed thoughtfully. It was sweet, at least.
“Is this what I think this is?”
Ed scowled up at him. “Yeah, I’m supposed to be a partridge in a pear tree. Your partridge, in fact. Happy now?”
Major Armstrong made a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
“And you! I thought the guests were supposed to open their gifts at home!”
Roy’s eyebrows rose. “What were you expecting me to do with you at home?”
Ed had the decency to blush. He dropped his gaze and plucked nervously at his costume. “Er, can I take this off?” His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed in embarrassment. Roy’s mouth went dry. Ed. Short skirt-thing. Willing. Damn, he was getting hard just thinking about it.
“Mistletoe. Now.”
And this time, Roy got to show Ed what the spirit of Christmas giving really was all about.
finis
^^ Hope y'all liked it!
A/N: Unabashed Christmas fluff, PG-13, Roy/Ed and an unhealthy obession with Christmas carols (one in particular). Unbeta-ed. And terribly OOC. But then, let's think of it as a Christmas truce.
This was the ‘famous Armstrong family Christmas carolling and dinner party, passed down through generations’. Or at least, that was what Major Armstrong would tell you at the door to his palatial family home. And in addition, pump your hand vigorously until it lost all feeling.
What a load of rot, thought Roy moodily, picking at his turkey, which the menu claimed to having been marinated in ‘special Armstrong family sauce’, and wincing at the incredibly off-key (probably traditionally so) rendition of ‘Silent Night’. A particularly high pitched warble saw him dropping his fork and cringing when it met the ground with a loud chime of protest. Bending down to pick it up gave him a good view up Hawkeye’s skirt, but the treat was prematurely cut short by her aiming a kick at his nose. It connected (painfully) and he ducked out in a hurry, bumping his head on the table and earning an annoyed snort from Fullmetal, who was seated on his right. Roy had never felt so embarrassed in his life.
Thus, it was with some relief (and no certain amount of trepidation) that he greeted the request for the guests to move to the hall to open their presents.
“…and of course, according to tradition, you’ll have to hunt for your present yourself around the Christmas tree.”
Roy took one look at the miniature mountain of presents and gulped. He’d wait until the pile cleared a little. But most greeted the idea with greater enthusiasm, and soon, the area was a mass of pushing, shoving bodies.
“It’s mine!”
“No it isn’t, it has MY name on it!”
Lust was the first to find hers.
“Oh! Five golden rings!” She beamed happily at everyone and amused herself with placing them, one by one, on each of her long fingers.
Hawkeye followed a close second. She wrestled her way through the frenzied throng, waving the wrapped parcel triumphantly. She tore open the wrapping paper excitedly.
“Two turtledove paperweights!” she cooed. Scar stood up brandishing six fine, plump geese. Havoc’s eyes started to glaze over.
“Sorry, Colonel, but I can’t wait anymore. I’m going innnnn!” And Roy was left lounging alone on one of the Major's incredibly large and soft sofas.
Gradually, the pile of gifts grew smaller. And smaller. And smaller, until at last, the space underneath the tree was empty.
EMPTY?
Roy stood up with a jerk. But he hadn’t collected his present yet! Even Armstrong was looking around in surprise.
“Erm, Colonel, your present seems to have disappeared.”
A frantic search for the missing present ensued, with nobody looking for it harder than Roy. A whisper went up that Gluttony must have eaten it, a charge which he furiously denied. But as time wore on and the present showed no signs of showing itself, it started to look as if he was guilty party after all.
It was Black Hayate who noticed the wrapped crate standing in the corner of the room. He snuffed at it, and whined.
Armstrong glanced at the tag, then at the crate, and at the tag again.
“I don’t remember your present being quite this large, Colonel.”
Hawkeye pushed her way to the front of the crowd. She stood in front of Roy, separating him from the crate.
“Don’t open it, Colonel. What if it’s a bomb?”
Black Hayate scratched the crate and whined again. Roy decided then that if he didn’t open it, he’d die of suspense anyway.
The wrapping paper was quickly torn off and the top pushed back to reveal Fullmetal blinking muzzily from within.
“Ed-kun! What are you wearing?!”
Hawkeye’s horrified exclamation seemed to shock him into his senses. He stood up, realised that that gave everybody the best view of his white feather tutu, and sheepishly sank down again.
Roy reached into the crate and drew out a pear. He looked at it in askance, then bit down. And chewed thoughtfully. It was sweet, at least.
“Is this what I think this is?”
Ed scowled up at him. “Yeah, I’m supposed to be a partridge in a pear tree. Your partridge, in fact. Happy now?”
Major Armstrong made a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
“And you! I thought the guests were supposed to open their gifts at home!”
Roy’s eyebrows rose. “What were you expecting me to do with you at home?”
Ed had the decency to blush. He dropped his gaze and plucked nervously at his costume. “Er, can I take this off?” His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed in embarrassment. Roy’s mouth went dry. Ed. Short skirt-thing. Willing. Damn, he was getting hard just thinking about it.
“Mistletoe. Now.”
And this time, Roy got to show Ed what the spirit of Christmas giving really was all about.
finis
^^ Hope y'all liked it!