“We All Need Somebody to Lean On”
Part One: Rejection and a Cutie
Part One: Rejection and a Cutie
First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was standing next to the window of Colonel Roy Mustang’s office. She was staring out it watching a depressed looking Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc talking to Black Hayate.
“Does anyone know what’s eating Lieutenant Havoc?” Hawkeye asked.
“He probably go dumped again.” Roy said, not looking up from the Central Times.
“Wow! He’s psychic.” Second Lieutenant Breda said from his desk.
“It’s hard balancing this job with and a relationship, you have no time. It’s hard to find someone worth while here.” Hawkeye commented.
“Please. A man should be able to handle both his job and his women.” Roy flatly stated, still not looking up from his paper. He suddenly looked up. “Grief affects his performance which affects me.” He looked out at his subordinates. “One of you find a girlfriend for Havoc.”
“But I’m a highly trained officer!” Master Sergeant Furey thought.
“I’m looking for a girl for me!” thought Officer Falman
“Just toss him one of your’s Colonel.” Breda thought.
“What was that?” Roy asked, as if he could read their minds.
“Nothing, sir.” The subordinates said in unison.
“Do any of you know what he’s looking for?”
“Well, when we were drinking,” Falman stood up, “he said he was looking for a cute, smart, funny girl with a good personality who wasn’t likely to cheat on him.”
“Good. Find Havoc a cute, smart, funny girl with a good personality.” Roy went back to reading his paper.
Angel was sitting in the student longue working furiously on her advanced algebra homework. A stack of books on writing styles, military psychology, and algebra methods, were next to her chair. She had a par of white headphones on blasting Nickelback.
Suddenly, those white headphones were ripped off her head. “Who the hell do you think you are!?” Angel turned around to see a laughing Breda. “Heymans, you a**!” She took her headphones back.
“What? You wouldn’t have heard me anyways.” He shrugged.
Angel smiled as she stuffed her work into her algebra book. “What do you want?”
“Look, one of my co-workers. . .”
“No.” Angle cut him off.
“But. . .”
“No. Stop trying to hook me up with your friends and co-workers.”
“Angel, come on!” Breda sat down in the chair opposite of her. “I’m sure you’ll like him.”
“Last time you said that, he left me for an air-head who lived in her own world.”
“Trust me. He won’t. Our commanding officer keeps stealing his girlfriends.”
“That’s nice.” Angel opened her algebra book and shoved her headphones back on.
“At least meet him.”
“Whatever.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Havoc was standing outside of the Armstrong estate, mouth gaping open. The estate was huge. A five-story, creamy yellow mansion with a sparkling crystal blue lake sat on the land. “I’m going home.” he muttered.
Furey and Breda shoved Havoc back out of the car. “Are ou out of your mind?” Breda asked. “You’ve hit the mother load!”
“All you have to do is convince her to marry you and you’ll be flying up the ranks in no time!” Furey added.
“Marry her? I haven’t even met her yet.”
“Well, according to the Major, she’s as every bit as beautiful as the Major himself.” Falman added.
“The Major?” Havoc started to picture a female version of Major Armstrong. It didn’t make him feel any better.
“Dammit! Let me back in!” Havoc yelled in panic.
“Lieutenant! We’ve been waiting for you!” Major Armstrong came running out of the mansion, arms wide-open to hug Havoc. As he did so, their co-works drove off in a rush.
“I bet a thousand that he blows the date.” Breda said back at Central.
“I bet they don’t even have one.” Falman said.
“I bet he chickens out before he even meets her.” Furey added.
“You know, you’re all betting against him.” Hawkeye commented.
“Safest bet!” They said in unison
“The Armstrong family has produced generation after generation of generals, I myself being one. . .” Mr. Armstrong was boring Havoc to death with his old war stories.
Mr. Armstrong was sitting at the head of the table, fondly stroking his flaring blond beard. Behind him was a portrait of himself in military garb. Havoc was sitting at the end of the table, looking dead, with the Major standing next to him.
“Father’s stories always touch me in the most profound ways.” He cried.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Armstrong waled into the dining room,” I hope he’s not boring our poor guest with war stories.”
“Hello Mother!” The Major said.
Mother? Thought Havoc. She looks fairly normal. That was until she stood next to her son. The two were the exact same height. She’s a freakin’ giant! That’s not normal; that’s not normal at all! Think about it rationally Havoc. If the father’s large horizontally and the mother’s large vertically, it would make sense that the son would turn out to be like that. He looked up at the Major, then continued his thoughts. Then the daughter would look like. . .Havoc pictured the female version of Armstrong again. She was stomping through a field of flowers and giggling. Wait. . .some traits are more dominant than others. So, if you cross A and B it could resemble A more. Like a tomato and a potato cross could be a pomato resembling the tomato more!
“Catherine, come now. Don’t be shy, you know that’s an unattractive quality.” Mrs. Armstrong said.
Okay, moment of truth. Havoc thought. Is she like her dad or her mom? Either way she’s a monster. But, if she’s a potato or a tomato, please let her be a tomato!
“Um...hi,” said a blonde-haired girl with green eyes and an average height. “I’m Catherine L. Armstrong.”
JACKPOT! Havoc screamed in his head.
“I told Falman she was beautiful and doesn’t she look like me?” Armstrong asked.
“How so?” Havoc asked, not seeing a resemblance whatsoever.
“The Armstrong eyelashes!” The Major’s and Catherine’s eyelashes were exactly the same.
“Oh, yes. . .course.”
“Come know Catherine, don’t be bashful.” Said Mrs. Armstrong.
“So. . .um. . .hi again.” Catherine said.
“So, what do you do for fun?” Havoc asked.
“Well, I’m pretty good on the piano.”
She’s so cute! Havoc thought in a daze. There’s no way she could possible be related to the Major.
“Or should I say, I’m pretty good. . . under the piano.” Catherine lifted the nearby piano.
She is 100% the Major’s sister.
“Something wrong Lieutenant?” Armstrong asked.
If I look past her freakish strength and focus on what matters. . .he looks, her sense of style, her estate, her lineage, it all adds up. I REALLY HAVE HIT THE MOTHER LOAD! Havoc seemed it be a bit more confident now.
“Miss Catherine?” Havoc turned to face her.
“Yes Lieutenant?”
“You would make me a very happy man if you would allow me to take you on a date.”
“In my dreams, I’ve always pictured a man just like you. Except with a more muscular physique like my brother’s. I’m sorry, but I only like good looking men.”
Havoc felt like a sword was just put through his head and he was shattering into a million pieces.
“I guess it wasn’t meant to be.” Armstrong said while flexing his plethora of muscles. “Shall I inform the cook?
“Oh, Angel. What are you doing here?” Bread asked the next day. Angel was sitting at his desk, reading.
“You said I should at least meet the guy.” Angel said without looking up.
“Yeah. . .now might not be a good time.”
“Why’s that?”
“He just go rejected by the Major’s sister.”
“That’s nice.”
At that moment, Havoc walked in. His hair was ruffled and he was dragging his feet. He plopped down in his chair at his desk which was kitty-corner from Breda and Angel.
Angel looked up from her book, staring at Havoc in surprise. He’s. . .cute. She thought.
“Hello.” Havoc muttered to them. Then, looking up into Angel’s blue-gray eyes, his voie changed to a surprised tone mixed with happiness. “Hello.”
“Havoc, this is my friend, Angel Macabe. Angel, this is my co-worker, Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc.” Breda introduced.
“Hey.” Angel said with a nervous smile. “Uh. . .um. . .I have to go. Lot’s of homework and Professor Johnson will kill me if I don’t turn it in on time.” She quickly gathered her things and, before she left, indicated to Breda to follow her.
“What?” he asked when the two were in the hall.
“He’s your co-worker?” Angel nodded towards the door.
“Yeah. Why?” Breda was really confused. He hadn’t seen her take this much interest in a guy since she dated Roy.
“Give him my number.”
“Did I hear you correctly? Or am I imagining things? I could have sworn you just said ‘Give him my number’.”
“That’s what I said.”
Breda smiled and gave her pat on the back as she left.
