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scriveynerTitle: Dying Sun
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
AU: Three Alchemists
Characters/Pairing: Roy/Irina
Rating: T
Length: 634
Summary: "You're kidding, right?"
Irina Chesteine turned the crumpled up paper sideways and squinted at it. She turned it around a bit, as if checking it from another angle would make the blurred and torn characters easier to read, and then ran both hands over the the page to flatten it further. Finally, she looked up at Roy Mustang, who was watching her analyze the writing intently from the other side of the desk. “You’re kidding, right?”
Roy sighed deeply and folded his hands under his chin, his elbows braced on the desk. They were alone in his office, he allowed the momentary disappointment to pass across his features. “Illegible, I take it?”
“No.” Irina slid the paper across Roy’s desk with only one finger, no longer wanting to touch it. “It’s a dirty joke.” She wiped her hand on the side of her skirt just to be certain, as if something could contaminate her from there. “A very vulgar one, too.”
“What?” Roy’s voice was puzzled.
“It’s about two ducks and a - you know what, I’m not going to repeat it because then it will get all around the office, and it’s filthy.” Irina folded her hands primly before her. “Is that all you needed from me today? Called me halfway across town to translate diplomat’s dirty mouths?”
Roy crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it in the air. He leaned back and snapped his fingers, incinerating the refuse instantly. A fine powder of ash dusted the blotter on his desk, and he stared at it morosely. “Unfortunately it seems to be case. I was hoping for something a little more useful."
Irina tsked, and produced a small folded note from her sleeve. "Well, perhaps you would like to know that Ambassador Chou Bi has an illegitimate son in Central City?” She held the note in two fingers, as Roy lifted his head from his hand, eyebrows lifting.
“How would you know something like that?”
“Because half of the diplomats think I’m the secretary, not the translator,” Irina said simply. She smiled sweetly at Roy, waggling the paper in the air. He reached out to take it from her but she withdrew her hand somewhat. “This one is worth a nice dinner out, don’t you think?”
Roy pressed his lips in a thin line. He did not look entirely displeased with this proposition, which was definitely in the ‘win’ column for the evening. “Agreed. If I may?”
She surrendered the note, and he opened it, half-turning in his chair. He then raised his eyes to Irina again. “This is in Xingese.”
“Well of course it is,” she said simply.
Roy sighed deeply and handed it back. “If you would be so kind?”
Irina flattened this note on the desk, taking a piece of note paper and a pencil before penning a quick translation and handing it back. “This should be useful, I think,” she said. “Now, I have to get back to the embassy before someone notices I’m smuggling Intel on our foreign diplomats to a noted troublemaker.”
“Your discretion is valued,” Roy said with an easy smirk. “Ms. Chesteine.”
“I’m holding you to that dinner,” she told him. “I’ll tell the Lieutenant on you if you don’t.” She turned with a flourish and exited, feeling Roy’s eyes on her the entire time.
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
AU: Three Alchemists
Characters/Pairing: Roy/Irina
Rating: T
Length: 634
Summary: "You're kidding, right?"
Irina Chesteine turned the crumpled up paper sideways and squinted at it. She turned it around a bit, as if checking it from another angle would make the blurred and torn characters easier to read, and then ran both hands over the the page to flatten it further. Finally, she looked up at Roy Mustang, who was watching her analyze the writing intently from the other side of the desk. “You’re kidding, right?”
Roy sighed deeply and folded his hands under his chin, his elbows braced on the desk. They were alone in his office, he allowed the momentary disappointment to pass across his features. “Illegible, I take it?”
“No.” Irina slid the paper across Roy’s desk with only one finger, no longer wanting to touch it. “It’s a dirty joke.” She wiped her hand on the side of her skirt just to be certain, as if something could contaminate her from there. “A very vulgar one, too.”
“What?” Roy’s voice was puzzled.
“It’s about two ducks and a - you know what, I’m not going to repeat it because then it will get all around the office, and it’s filthy.” Irina folded her hands primly before her. “Is that all you needed from me today? Called me halfway across town to translate diplomat’s dirty mouths?”
Roy crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it in the air. He leaned back and snapped his fingers, incinerating the refuse instantly. A fine powder of ash dusted the blotter on his desk, and he stared at it morosely. “Unfortunately it seems to be case. I was hoping for something a little more useful."
Irina tsked, and produced a small folded note from her sleeve. "Well, perhaps you would like to know that Ambassador Chou Bi has an illegitimate son in Central City?” She held the note in two fingers, as Roy lifted his head from his hand, eyebrows lifting.
“How would you know something like that?”
“Because half of the diplomats think I’m the secretary, not the translator,” Irina said simply. She smiled sweetly at Roy, waggling the paper in the air. He reached out to take it from her but she withdrew her hand somewhat. “This one is worth a nice dinner out, don’t you think?”
Roy pressed his lips in a thin line. He did not look entirely displeased with this proposition, which was definitely in the ‘win’ column for the evening. “Agreed. If I may?”
She surrendered the note, and he opened it, half-turning in his chair. He then raised his eyes to Irina again. “This is in Xingese.”
“Well of course it is,” she said simply.
Roy sighed deeply and handed it back. “If you would be so kind?”
Irina flattened this note on the desk, taking a piece of note paper and a pencil before penning a quick translation and handing it back. “This should be useful, I think,” she said. “Now, I have to get back to the embassy before someone notices I’m smuggling Intel on our foreign diplomats to a noted troublemaker.”
“Your discretion is valued,” Roy said with an easy smirk. “Ms. Chesteine.”
“I’m holding you to that dinner,” she told him. “I’ll tell the Lieutenant on you if you don’t.” She turned with a flourish and exited, feeling Roy’s eyes on her the entire time.
