Title: Father Christmas
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Type: Holiday fic, gen, slight AU
Warnings: Some Language
Summary: Through the reluctant efforts of one man and his eager ‘elves’, Christmas is brought to Central City and most especially to two young alchemists.
Chapter Listing Here
Behind the Scenes
“I believe that’s about it,” Falman said, closing the notebook he was holding.
Roy nodded and buried his hands more deeply into his coat pockets. They were walking along Main Street and he was pleased with what he saw. All the decorations were up, and people were bustling about with bags and boxes sporting the names of various stores.
“Oh it’s Father Christmas!” one woman said to her son and they both waved enthusiastically to him. He forced a smile and waved back, then waved to others who had heard and also waved to him.
“I’m going to kill Breda,” Roy said quietly to Falman as he smiled and nodded to an older lady who had recognized him. “If he ever talks to the press again, I’ll fry him to a crisp.”
“Yes sir,” Falman said, then paused before adding, “Father Christmas, sir.” Roy glanced over to see the man was trying hard not to smile.
Growling, Roy snatched the notebook, then began flipping through it. It was really of no use to tell them to stop calling him ‘Father Christmas’. They knew he hated it, but that seemed to be part of the ‘charm’ for them to continue. And, of course, he couldn’t exactly snap at the general public to stop, seeing as how they all seemed to find the idea delightful for some reason.
He glanced over the numbers provided by one of the charitable organizations, then tapped on the notebook. “They’re not getting as many donations as the other ones. I want you to arrange a contribution to them from the military.”
Falman nodded and took the notebook back to scribble in a few notes, then said, “Oh, another thing...”
“Hm?” Roy asked as he smiled and nodded to more people who recognized him. He was going to kill that Hatchet woman from the Times for putting his picture in the paper so many times. And Breda? He’d think of a ‘special reward’ for him...
“It seems the post office is being flooded with mail for ‘Santa Claus’. They want to know what they should do with it all.”
Roy turned at the next corner and began to head toward headquarters. “They can’t just burn it?” he asked. That much paper would definitely heat the fireplace for a while. He glanced at Falman and when he saw the look on the man’s face he said, “Just kidding, just kidding...” He really hadn’t been, but he knew immediately that would be the wrong solution. If word got out that he’d ordered the children’s letters to Santa burned... He smirked. It might tarnish his reputation, but maybe then people would stop this nonsense of calling him ‘Father Christmas’.
Then an idea struck him and he grinned. “Tell the post office to forward all mail addressed to Santa Claus to Maes Hughes.”
“I don’t know if Major Hughes will appreciate that very much...” Falman said dryly.
Roy chuckled quietly, wishing he could see the look on Maes’s face when he started getting all that mail. He began to say something, when he was cut off.
“Father Christmas!” a female’s voice called out.
Roy turned to see two very lovely ladies in their early twenties calling out to him. He grinned at them and said, “Hello ladies.”
They both smiled flirtatiously, and the one who had called out said, “We’ve both been very good this year. What will you be bringing us for Christmas?”
Smiling broadly now, enjoying this kind of attention, Roy said easily, “It depends on what you want. Would you like to sit on my lap and tell me?”
Roy was still smiling when he returned to headquarters. If he had more people like those two calling him Father Christmas, he wouldn’t mind so much. They hadn’t sat on his lap right there in public, but he did get both of their phone numbers...
Walking down the hall, Roy neared his secretary’s desk, then stopped. The woman was talking with Hawkeye about something, but what caught Roy’s eye was that she was standing under the mistletoe he’d set up near the secretary’s desk.
Before he had a chance to formulate a plan to kiss his lieutenant, Havoc slowly walked up behind her, looking determined and intent. Then suddenly he turned around and walked away for a few paces, then turned back toward Hawkeye—who had her back to him.
Roy guessed the man’s plan was to kiss her and run like his life depended on it—which, it might... Havoc was about to lean in, when Hawkeye turned and saw him. She instantly frowned.
“Is there something you needed?” she asked.
He looked at her silently, then shook his head. “Just uh... I was just...” Her frown deepened into something more suspicious. “I was just looking at your hair,” he settled on. “It looks really nice today.”
Roy pressed his lips together to keep himself from laughing. That had to be the lamest cover-up that he’d ever heard. No wonder Havoc couldn’t get himself a woman.
She eyed him for a moment, then said in a dry tone, “Oh really?”
Roy shook his head. Women were smart creatures. You couldn’t just compliment them and expect them to fall into your arms. The compliment had to make sense or they’d become guarded.
“Yes! Absolutely. It looks very nice,” Havoc said quickly.
He’s doomed, Roy thought.
Havoc’s eyes strayed for the briefest of moments toward the mistletoe, then back to Hawkeye’s face. She glanced up, then stepped out from underneath it before looking back at Havoc.
“I’m glad you approve of my everyday hair style,” she said coolly. She gave a tight-lipped smile, then walked swiftly past him.
Havoc sagged, then straightened when he saw that Roy was watching. Roy grinned and walked forward.
“She put you over her knee and spanked you,” Roy said quietly.
“I’m not going to lose,” Havoc insisted.
“How many total mistletoe kisses have you gotten so far?” Roy asked smugly. When Havoc only glared at him, Roy grinned and said, “Uh huh,” before heading for his office.