Title: Let Them Eat Cake
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Summary: Alphonse bakes Riza a cake.
Notes: You know, I think this is the first het fic I've ever written. o.o Requested by sbanchs
on my Prompt Me!
thread. Very un-beta'd.
...I have no idea why this wound up in Ed's POV. None.Let Them Eat Cake
The kitchen was a disaster.
No, Ed decided as he surveyed the wreckage, raising an eyebrow at the mysterious glob of...something on the ceiling, it went beyond disaster. It was as though a small, localized tornado had set down in the middle of the Elric’s kitchen. A tornado by the name of Alphonse.
The tornado himself was ignoring Edward at the moment, gnawing on his lip, face a picture of concentration as he carefully put the final touches on the small, round cake. There were dishes piled dangerously high on every possible surface, and everything, including Alphonse, was covered in a fine layer of what Ed was pretty sure was flour. Ed’s eyes flicked between the very large mess and the very small cake, wondering how such a massive explosion had such a tiny result.
Oh well. He shrugged to himself. At least there was cake.
One moment reaching out a finger to swipe a bit of frosting, the next Ed found himself on his rump on the tiled floor, staring up at Al who was wielding a wooden spoon like a sword and hunching over the confection protectively. He looked a bit like a mother protecting her young to Ed’s mind, and no less dangerous. Scooting back out of spoon range, Ed clambered to his feet and gave his brother a dirty look. “You could have...y’know, just asked me not to eat any.”
Alphonse, spoon-ninja and cake master, had the grace to look ashamed. He did not however move from his protective stance over the cake. “Sorry Brother, but this isn’t for you.”
Edward was pretty sure there were laws against making a cake in a man’s house and not letting him have any. “Who’s it for then?”
Al flushed slightly. “Major Hawkeye.”
Ed blinked, confused. He didn’t recall anything about the major having a sweet tooth. “Why?”
“It’s her birthday.”
“It is?” Well, shit. Nobody had told him
Alphonse nodded, wiping some of the flour dust off of his face and smearing a bit of chocolate frosting in its wake. “The general mentioned it last week. He said she hates parties though, so they never have one. Apparently, the last time they threw her a surprise party, she shot him.”
Ed snorted a laugh. “Shot at
him, you mean.”
“Ah...no. She shot him.” Al pointed down with his spoon. “In the foot.”
Ed stared, torn between a new and healthy fear of the woman, and respect for the fact that she had actually shot the bastard.
“But,” Al continued, “A cake should be okay, right? I mean, everyone should have a cake on their birthday, even if they don’t like parties.”
“I don’t think she’ll shoot you over a cake, Al,” Ed assured him, moving a bowl off the stool so he could sit. “I bet Mustang just got trashed and tried to feel her up or something.”
Alphonse turned an interesting shade of red and mumbled something under his breath.
Al started. “Ah...I, um. I just said I don’t think even he would be that stupid.”
Ed snorted. “I wouldn’t count on it. So,” he pointed at the cake, carefully frosted and decorated. “Is it done?”
“Yes.” He stiffened slightly, and turned horrified eyes on Ed. “What if she doesn’t like chocolate?”
“She’ll like it,” Ed rolled his eyes. What was Al so worried about, anyway? “All chicks like chocolate. It’s an unwritten rule. Probably hard-wired into their genetic code.”
“They’re women, Brother. Or ladies,” Al added thoughtfully. “Not ‘chicks’. That’s disrespectful.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever.” A woman Riza Hawkeye might be, but Ed was fairly sure no one ever thought of her as a lady. Ladies couldn’t put fifteen holes in a man before he could blink, generally speaking. In fact, he mused with a grin, she probably her very own pair of honorary balls. “Anyway,” he continued, “ The point is that she’ll like the cake.”
“I’m sure, Al.”
* * *
A few hours later found them standing on the major’s doorstep, Alphonse shifting from foot to foot nervously. He reached up to knock, hesitated, and adjusted the cake box in his arms instead. Ed watched him go through the routine six times before reaching over Al’s shoulder and rapping sharply on the door. Al started, fumbling with the cake and nearly dropping it. Ed just grinned when his brother shot him a dark look.
He had never seen Alphonse so frazzled over something so small. Ed had always had a suspicion that Al had a bit of a crush on the major, and the way he was acting was definitely reinforcing that suspicion. He really couldn’t decide if it was cute or brave, all things considered.
There was the muffled sound of footsteps, and the door opened.
Riza looked from Alphonse to Ed and back again, surprised. Al wobbled slightly when she looked at him, and Edward suppressed a laugh as he put a steadying hand on his brother’s back. When Al didn’t speak, he said, “Hey, Major.”
“Hello Edward, Alphonse.” She opened the door wide and motioned them inside. “What brings you?”
Al took a deep breath. “ThegeneraltoldmeitwasyourbirthdaysoImad
eyouacakeIhopeyoudon’tmind.” He thrust the box at the surprised woman, and Ed was pretty sure he heard a silent, “pleasedon’tshootme,” on the end.
It took her a moment to puzzle through what Al had said, but once she did, she smiled warmly at him. “Thank you Alphonse, that was very thoughtful.” She took to box from Al, who beamed at her.
She set the box down on the table and took off the lid. “You made it yourself?” she asked. Al nodded, and she smiled again. “It looks wonderful. Though, I think it’s too much for me, so why don’t you two stay and help me with it?”
Al blinked. “I, er...well. If you want?” He said in a small voice. “I thought you didn’t like parties though.”
“Well, generally speaking I don’t, but three people hardly constitutes a party, hm?” She shot him a smile and a wink as she pulled the cake out of the box, and Ed was pretty Al was in imminent danger of becoming an Al-puddle if she kept smiling at him. “Besides, I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Alphonse stuttered out an affirmative, and Ed decided it was time to do his baby brother a favor, loathe as he was to turn down an offer of cake. “Sorry, Major. I got some stuff to do, but I’m sure Al will have no problem helping you polish off that cake.”
Al stared at him, knowing full well Ed was lying through his teeth.
“You’re sure?” Riza asked.
“Yep! In fact, I should probably get going. You two have fun!” With a quick wave, Ed darted down the hall and out the door, before Al could muster his voice and call him back.
Ed grinned to himself as he walked away from the house. Even if the major wasn’t aware of Al’s crush on her --which he doubted, she was pretty perceptive-- his brother would eventually wear her down with sheer niceness
. It was only a matter of time.
After a moments hesitation, Ed turned back towards the apartment. Maybe there was some leftover frosting.