Fanfic: The Weight of the Paper, Part 1 (Fullmetal Alchemist)

[nebroadwe]

Title: The Weight of the Paper
Fandom: FMA (slightly AU for timing purposes)
Character(s): Falman, Sheska, and Mustang (with cameos from Havoc, Breda and Furey)
Pairing(s): None ... yet.
Rating: G
Word Count: ~2700 in this installment, the first of two
Warnings: None.
A/N: One year ago today, I posted my very first fanfic to LiveJournal and was gratified to discover that a few people enjoyed it enough to comment on it. (Gratified? I walked around for days afterward chanting, "They liked it! They really, really LIKED it!") That piece featured Sheska, so when this one began developing as an encounter between her and Falman, I decided to post it in honor of my first anniversary. Alas, various commitments prevented me from completing it on time, but I did manage to revise the first half into postable shape, right up to the cliffhanger, so here it is. I'll try to get the ending pulled together ASAP. Please note that this doesn't quite fit into the timeline of either the anime or the manga, but I couldn't resist seeing what Hughes might do if his office were only a few floors away from Mustang's instead of half a country. Crossposted from nebroadwe to Höllenbeck (i.e. hagaren_manga, fm_alchemist, fullservicefma, fma_gen, fma_writers and fma_fiction).
Dedication: Specifically, to canarynoir, master of Amestrian office politics. Generally, to everyone who read my work and left a comment over the past year. Thank you so much.

---

      Summer had just begun its advance into Central, unfurling leaves on the cherry trees like ensigns over a Remembrance Day parade. The ancients had named this season the time when kings go out to war, Falman knew, but to his colleagues it was the time when Lieutenant Hawkeye takes a fortnight's leave.

      They had survived the first week under Havoc's ostensible tenure as office manager -- in practice, everything landed on Falman's desk while the others debated where the lieutenant might be vacationing this year. Opinion currently favored a resort in the northwestern mountains. Havoc had argued for the beach until Breda pointed out that the nearest sea-bathing was in Creata, whose recently-tightened visa restrictions barred anyone in the Amestrian military from playing tourist there. But the image of the lieutenant in a swimsuit was too compelling to abandon; eventually they'd agreed that she'd probably enjoy a few brisk laps around a mountain lake as much as a lazy afternoon tanning under the Creatan sun. Then Furey discovered that she'd taken Black Hayate with her instead of boarding him at the base kennel. It was decided. A long morning swim, a leisurely afternoon hike, and dinner under the stars while the wind whispered in the aspens behind the lodge: what more could a girl and her dog ask of a holiday?

      The discussion had since moved on, naturally, to the cut of the lieutenant's bathing dress. Furey's sister was proving a fruitful source of intelligence on this topic, though Havoc had been unable to persuade him to invite her to the canteen to present her data firsthand. This morning he'd changed tactics and begun badgering the master-sergeant to borrow his sister's copy of Elegance so they could examine the current modes themselves. Judging by the vasodilation of Furey's ears and the brevity of his refusals, however, Havoc had a tough campaign ahead of him.

      Falman listened to the second lieutenant working his wiles on Furey with only half his attention. After six days without Lieutenant Hawkeye's expert care, paperwork was piling up, but had not yet become a fire hazard. Falman flattered himself that with some ingenious metafiling he could keep chaos at bay until she returned. Colonel Mustang had had a spasm of application earlier in the week and signed off on a series of memos the lieutenant had ghostwritten for him before she'd left, which had eased the pressure on Falman's IN tray somewhat. Afterward, however, the colonel had disappeared on one of his increasingly expansive lunch breaks. R.H.I.P., Breda had muttered, even though everyone's breaks were much more ... comfortable with Havoc keeping the time sheets. A more appropriate proverb, Falman thought, would have been While the cat's away ...

      Truth be told, he hadn't expected to have any difficulty keeping up with the paperwork. Most departments, knowing of Lieutenant Hawkeye's absence, had courteously reduced their correspondence with the office to a minimum. Most departments, but not all: message traffic from Investigations had quadrupled within seventy-two hours of the lieutenant's departure. Not a watch passed now without a barrage of eyes-only memos and classified files addressed to Colonel Mustang from Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes. So far the colonel had successfully avoided reading any of them, pleading everything from inadequate security precautions to a blinding migraine, and everyone but Falman was still giving good odds that Investigations would run out of paper before the Flame Alchemist ran out of excuses.

      Today the Colonel had chosen to duck all contacts by hanging out the "Do Not Disturb" sign as soon as he'd arrived ("I'm not available, Falman: research. You know the drill. I have complete faith in your ability to screen unwanted callers"). If the pattern of creases on what little paperwork Falman had managed to get through the colonel's hands was any indication, Mustang would be spending the day "researching" the Xingese art of paper-folding.

      Falman grimaced at one particularly rumpled example and decided, reluctantly, that it would need to be retyped so he could file a clean set of carbons. Breda could forge the colonel's signature -- this was normally a device of last resort, but none of them could imagine confronting their superior with a report he'd already passed. Havoc's suggestion that it be folded into an airplane and sailed over the transom into the inner office was met with speaking silence. While the second lieutenant twitted the others for their lack of humor, Falman uncovered his typewriter, ratcheted in the necessary paper-and-carbon sandwich, and began to type.

      Three lines down the ink faded from black to pale gray to invisibility. Falman pried the ribbon off its spindles and chucked it into the wastebasket under his desk. One of those days. He crossed to the supply closet behind Breda's chair and rifled it systematically from top to bottom. Perhaps sensing Colonel Mustang's desire to create a paperless office, the box of spare ribbons had migrated to the back of the lowest shelf and was covered with a quarter-inch of dust. He blew it clear and reemerged, coughing, to find himself alone in the workroom.

      He blinked, then swore under his breath and yanked the closet door wide again. Before he could barricade himself inside, however, the outer door swung open and a dark-haired woman wearing square glasses and a harried expression peered in from the hall. "Excuse me -- oh, Warrant Officer Falman!" she said, brightening. "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes says he really must have this form signed ... is Colonel Mustang in?"

      Sheska had joined the Investigations Department as a civilian contractor not long after Central Library's first branch had burned to the ground, taking with it the records of countless courts-martial. She had once been employed by that branch as a clerk; the scuttlebutt whispered that she was some sort of genius (or, less kindly, an idiot savant) who was reconstructing the incinerated case files from memory. Falman wasn't certain that even an idiot savant would be capable of that -- at the very least, it argued having spent far more time reading depositions , evidence reports and proceedings than seemed possible for such a young woman. Then again, he didn't know her well. The early-warning system Breda had arranged with the offices at either end of the hall allowed them to calibrate the level of busyness in the workroom according to the importance of an approaching visitor: a drop-dead-gorgeous secretary cleared desks faster than an impending audit, but an ordinary clerk was normally greeted with bent heads and scratching pencils. It was a testament to Investigations' advantage in the war of nerves, Falman reflected bitterly, that Sheska's approach had cleared the room.

      Personally, he had nothing against the girl. She seemed intelligent, hard-working, loyal and conscientious -- all qualities he approved. But she was also disconcertingly earnest and, not to put too fine a point on it, gullible. She had confided shyly to Havoc (who had in turn informed everyone in the office) that she hoped her association with the military would allow her access to information about the alien spacecraft the war in Ishbal had really been fought to possess. She was the perfect proxy for Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes; Falman could only wonder why he hadn't sent her before.

      "Which form, Ms. Sheska?" he asked, eliding a sarcastic now with some difficulty.

      "Form AUW-6125," she answered, removing it from the manila folder she carried, "a request to expedite end-to-end metrics for parallel policy programming among department heads. If I could just have a moment of the colonel's time?"

      End-to-end metrics? Falman took a deep breath. "I'm afraid the colonel isn't available," he said, "but if you leave the paperwork with me, I'll see that it gets back to Investigations with the proper endorsements." Eventually.

      "Oh, no!" Sheska protested, then covered her mouth with the yellow flimsy. "I mean, that's all right," she mumbled. "I can wait."

      "I wouldn't want to trouble you -- " Falman began.

      "It's no trouble!" Sheska slipped form AUW-6125 back into its folder, tucked it under her arm and glanced around the room. "I'll just borrow a chair ... "

      Falman quickly interposed himself between Sheska and the workroom's lone visitor's seat -- a hard, narrow steno chair personally selected by Lieutenant Hawkeye to discourage loiterers. (Its utility was questionable: fellow-staffers had learned to perch on desks and the colonel's admirers were more than willing to sacrifice comfort for propinquity.) "The thing is, the colonel's schedule today is rather tight," he explained mendaciously. "It may be some while before he can attend to your request." Sheska's mouth opened, but the thought of what Colonel Mustang would say to anyone interrupting his morning to expedite parallel policy programming spurred Falman to override her. "Leaving the form with me would be a far more efficient use of your time," he went on. "In fact, I'm surprised the lieutenant-colonel didn't send this down by interoffice post."

      Sheska shook her head. "He wanted it hand-delivered. We've been having some problems with the interoffice post -- important letters being delayed or lost." She lowered her voice. "Just between you and me, Mr. Falman, something very odd is going on in the mail room. When I went down the other day to speak to them about the missing items, they didn't seem concerned at all, and as I was leaving, I could swear I heard them snickering."

      "I'm sure it had nothing to do with your complaint," Falman felt compelled to reassure her. "Just the usual bout of spring fever, probably."

      "You'd think they'd have more pride in their work." Sheska brooded for a moment and Falman wondered whether he could twitch the form out of her grip while she was lost in thought. He almost had his fingertips on it when she clutched it to her breast; he hastily crossed his own arms, but fortunately she didn't appear to have noticed his ploy. "I suppose they hear a lot of complaints," she said.

      "Indeed," Falman agreed. He held out a hand again, edging into Sheska's personal space at the same time. If he could maneuver her over to the door, he'd have the psychological advantage, if nothing else. "As I said, if you leave the request with me, I'll see that it's attended to."

      But Sheska stood her ground. "I know it's an imposition, Mr. Falman, but Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes said he needs this form signed by noon at the latest. He gave me the assignment himself right after the morning briefing. He said it was a matter of the utmost importance and --" her hands pinched the folder so tightly it began to bow around her thumbs -- "and that I should regard it in that light."

      Falman frowned. "In what light?"

      She bit her lip. "In light of its importance," she hedged.

      "Ms. Sheska -- "

      "He was very emphatic!"

      "Ms. Sheska," Falman repeated patiently, "exactly what did the lieutenant-colonel tell you?"

      "He said ... " One shoe scraped across the floor as she bent the folder into a right angle. "He said I should come back with my shield or on it."

      Falman relaxed. "I'm sure that's merely a figure of speech."

      "It's a quotation from Plutarch," she informed him. "But it's not just what he said, it's -- it's how he said it."

      Her preoccupation seemed both ominous and inexplicable. Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes was the utter opposite of a martinet, but his mind doubled back on itself with the agility of a hunted fox. Perhaps Sheska, despite her nose for conspiracy, was too straightforward to follow his lead. "And how did he -- ?"

      "He was holding my pay envelope," she admitted in a rush. "In his right hand. And -- and tapping it against his left palm. Rather like a riding crop," she added, using the file folder to demonstrate.

      "I see." And he did, clearly, though it wasn't the lieutenant-colonel he envisioned, but a grizzled noncom in the motor pool at basic training. Private, get me a new set of spark plugs for this thing ...

      He blinked to banish the image from his mind and Sheska followed suit. Only when a tear trickled down her cheek did he realize it hadn't been a contagious response. Horrified, he took an involuntary half-step backward. "Ms. Sheska?"

      "I'm sorry, Mr. Falman," she said thickly. Clearing her throat, she pulled a rectangle of rumpled cloth from her sleeve and unfolded it into a square almost large enough to picnic on. "Please excuse me," she continued as she blotted her eyes. "I -- I know this is unprofessional."

      Falman forced back an automatic and meaningless Not at all because weeping on duty was certainly unprofessional; the snickerers in the mail room would laugh themselves silly if this got out ... (Spark plugs for a diesel? Nah, the Second Cavalry cleaned us out last week and Supply says we'll get more when we get more.) But what else could he do? He couldn't pull rank on a superior officer and demand that he stop wasting everyone's time with practical jokes. Sheska had her own handkerchief and he still didn't dare offer her a seat. If only she'd surrender the form, perhaps he could find some excuse to send her back to Investigations without it. (Tell you what, though, you ask Corporal Redman over with Two-Cav and maybe he can slip you a few. Tell him I sent you ...) "Ms. Sheska," he said, "perhaps if you -- "

      "You see, I really, really need this job," she interrupted as if she hadn't heard him. "My mother -- " She broke off and blew her nose; then she crumpled the handkerchief and shoved it back up her sleeve, where it left a bulge Falman's fingers itched to smooth away. "They were right to fire me from the library for reading on duty, but here I have so much work to do that I'm not even tempted." She looked up at him, determination reddening her cheeks like the heat from a boiling kettle. "And everyone ... well, almost everyone ... that is, most people are so friendly and helpful that I truly want to do my best. It's not just a matter of money; it's about self-respect ... Mr. Falman?"

      "Hmm?" Sergeant Hawkins sent you, eh? Well, I'd like to oblige, but I ain't got none to spare. Charlie Minkus up at the P/X might be able to put you in the way of a couple, though ...

      "Mr. Falman?" Sheska fanned the form tentatively in front of his nose.

      Falman started, surprised at how clearly he could picture the laugh lines around Corporal Redman's eyes now, when he hadn't noticed them at all back then. "Yes, Ms. Sheska?"

      She twisted the folder again; it was developing a decided crease. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to bore you with my personal ..." Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

      "No, no, Ms. Sheska, my apologies," he replied with a quick bow. "I was just considering the colonel's schedule and -- "

      -- and remembering how many different offices and workshops and garages he'd visited that day, how many excuses he'd swallowed, how many straight-faced offers of help he'd accepted before it had dawned on him that he was being hazed. The noncoms never caught him off-guard again: he'd memorized the manuals and kept his head down and eventually another green one-striper showed up to play the butt --

      "-- and I realized I may have given you a mistaken impression," he said, ignoring the gooseflesh breaking out all over his body at the thought of what he was about to do. "Colonel Mustang isn't out of the office; he's just engaged in some, uh, necessary but tedious research. I wouldn't interrupt him for a minor matter, but since this is a priority request ... "

      "Are you sure?"

      Sheska's eyes searched his face, but Falman didn't hold his own in the office poker games by counting cards. "Absolutely," he replied, taking her arm and steering her toward the inner office. A residual sense of loyalty (or possibly self-preservation) made him knock twice and pause just long enough to allow someone to pull his boots off the desk, should they happen to be resting there, before he threw open the door and announced, "Ms. Sheska to see you, sir."

To be continued ...

---

[Acknowledgments: Fullmetal Alchemist (Hagane no Renkinjutsushi) was created by Arakawa Hiromu and is serialized monthly in Shonen Gangan (Square Enix); the anime of the same title was directed by Mizushima Seiji and story-edited by Aikawa Sho. Copyright for these properties is held by Arakawa Hiromu, Square Enix, Mainichi Broadcasting System, Aniplex, Bones, and dentsu.]

Comments

[fmanalyst.livejournal.com]

Yay! I like it!

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Now that I have the link from the comms fixed, hopefully other people will read it and share your opinion.

[fmanalyst.livejournal.com]

I had to like it. It's about Sheska.

Seriously, you do a good job of keeping everyone in character.

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

I had to like it. It's about Sheska.

It is a testament to the sort of morning I'm having that I had to think about that statement for a moment. Oy.

Seriously, you do a good job of keeping everyone in character.

Phew. I had the devil's own time getting the narrative voice right in the opening section -- dropping "Falman knew" into the first paragraph helped the revisions far more than I thought it would. I'm still a tad worried about Sheska because I'm not sure I prepped her sniffles sufficiently ... and I have this lingering fear that the whole piece is sexist, somehow. My offline beta says not, but ...

[rhyssafireheart.livejournal.com]

Great story so far. Can't wait to read the second part.

I think you did a good job with keeping both of them in character, especially for two characters where we don't know a lot about their inner workings. Nice bit on Falman remembering his hazing as a newbie.

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

I think you did a good job with keeping both of them in character, especially for two characters where we don't know a lot about their inner workings.

Thanks. As I mentioned upcomment, I started out with a much more omniscient narrative voice and gradually wrote my way into Falman's head when I realized that I needed to be there to tell the story properly. I'm much happier in tight-third, but as you say, we don't know a whole lot about Falman, so I had to tread cautiously. I'm just hoping I can keep the punchline in character ...

Nice bit on Falman remembering his hazing as a newbie.

Thanks! I enjoyed writing that; I had always planned for that to be the "turn" that prods him to let Sheska into Mustang's office, but I was surprised when all that interior monologue presented itself.

Peace!

[sevlow.livejournal.com]

wonderfully written. You had me giggling all over.

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

Excellent! Just wait till you see what happens next ... :-)

[tasha-o.livejournal.com]

This is fantastic because Sheska and Fallman never get any attention in fanfiction, which saddens me because Fallman is my favorite of Mustang's crew. Anyhow brilliantly written as usual, and you had me laughing when I realized what Hughes was doing to poor Sheska (Took me awhile though maybe I connect to Sheska because we're both so gullible.)Congratulations on one year of wonderful stories ^____^

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

This is fantastic because Sheska and Fallman never get any attention in fanfiction, which saddens me because Fallman is my favorite of Mustang's crew.

I like to work with the underused characters every now and then -- it's a different challenge from working with the protagonists. And it had dawned on me that I hadn't touched the Mustang-tachi once all year, so they were clearly due.

... you had me laughing when I realized what Hughes was doing to poor Sheska ...

Huzzah! Although I found as this piece developed it became less straightforwardly comic and rather more wry, mostly because the characters rounded out as I found their voices and I realized that if Sheska really thought this was a matter of life and death, she'd be worried about her job -- and that Falman would have to sympathize because almost nobody makes it through an experience like basic training without being sent on a snipe hunt (and, given his personality as sketched in the original work, he'd probably have hated it). Which hopefully will allow me to tell a slightly different but equally effective set of jokes in part two.

Congratulations on one year of wonderful stories ...

Thank you. Year two, coming up! :-)

[nighteevee.livejournal.com]

I can only agree with what has been said before: this wins on your delightful prose, and for being so brilliantly in character - even the characters that aren't physically present.

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

This office greedily accepts any and all compliments. :-) I'm still not sure about the prose in spots; the beginning sounds slightly off to me again (too many adverbs and the transitions are weak and the vocabulary needs tweaking). The inspiration and initial drafting for this took place not long after I began working on "Light the Traveler Home" and I think shows some of the same problems that piece had -- mainly trouble getting the non-dialogue parts of the narrative to flow as smoothly as the dialogue-based ones. I expect that part 1 will look a bit different by the time I get around to posting part 2 ...

[c-b-syndrome.livejournal.com]

I take it Hughes was in an ornery mood when he ganked your keyboard this time? XD

Your description and narrative is so vivid! I'm looking forward to part two (but then, I always enjoy your stories... darn you!)

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

I take it Hughes was in an ornery mood when he ganked your keyboard this time?

He was in mood, certainly. Poor Sheska. :-)

I'm looking forward to part two (but then, I always enjoy your stories... darn you!)

Heh. A sentiment which I reciprocate ...

[littleduchess.livejournal.com]

I'm really liking this. It's got a good balance of insightful character development (all IC) and wry humour. :) The fact you're dealing with characters that are so often ignored means extra brownie points too.

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

I'm really liking this. It's got a good balance of insightful character development (all IC) and wry humour. :)

Thanks! It started out much more cracky, but I can't seem to write silly without being a little serious (or vice versa). I used to think I couldn't do round characters; now I'm discovering that I can't write without considering character issues somewhere.

The fact you're dealing with characters that are so often ignored means extra brownie points too.

That's why I enjoy writing for the LJ fan community. The folks over on FF.net are quite congenial, too, but their taste favors the major characters and has a romance bent (my EdWin pieces are getting more hits than almost anything else at the moment). Here, people also enjoy seeing the secondary characters take center stage for a while and are as happy to see gen as het or slash, so I can get some good feedback.

Love the icon, btw. :-)

[ex-fenrisulf414.livejournal.com]

Ah! It was utterly brilliant!
(Everybody's already given the important compliments!)

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

It never hurts to repeat them. I enjoy basking in the swelling chorus of praise for a few seconds -- before I realize that "fortnight" is NOT the word I should be using in the first paragraph and there's a transition hitch in the second one and I need to go on a search-and-destroy mission for irrelevant adverbs throughout ... :-)

But I'm glad you enjoyed it. On to part two!

[renuki.livejournal.com]

...*starts to giggle at Hughes*

yay for Falman! :D

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

...*starts to giggle at Hughes*

He's a piece of work here, all right. I forgive him for making Sheska cry only because I'm sure he didn't realize she was taking him quite so seriously. Or that the guys in the mail room were snarking at her.

yay for Falman! :D

It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Heh, heh, heh ...

[renuki.livejournal.com]

Yes, he is, but that what make he fun to read/write about. :D

*nod* I can see that.

Heh, yeah. XD

[jennawaterford.livejournal.com]

*Honored* Thank you. I will come back and comment properly after the mad flurry of activity that is this week and weekend dies down.

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

You're welcome! I'm about to fall off the face of the earth myself for a couple of days -- I look forward to your comments on my return.

[jennawaterford.livejournal.com]

Goodness, I realized I never came back and updated my comments!

This is delightful. All the little details noted, all the personalities observed. It's great to get Falman POV, and his slightly-outsider's take on the gang and slow-burn change from attempting to be rid of Sheska to empathizing and assisting her against the goofballs is lovely. I need to go see if you've done more on this one :)

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

Thanks. I've got part 2 all planned out -- I just keep stalling on the execution. It's next up in the queue, though, right after the current short 'fic (~2000 words, working title "Eyecatch").

Heh, nice...

[twice-crossed.livejournal.com]

I've always loved fics that involve the military offices. This one had a great blend of humor and insight into two characters that are often ignored. You pulled them both off wonderfully. Sheska is totally believable as a naive, but determinedly earnest bookworm, and Falman fits well into the personality that we see in both mediums even as we get a glimpse into his past.

The way you segued his decision to let Sheska see Col. Mustang with his memory of his own hazing was well done. I could practically see him softening as the memories played.

Also, I don't know if you intended it this way, but I could really see Hughes sending a person like Sheska into a situation like this in order to, A) toughen her up a bit and, B) to get the job done, which a person who CAN NOT lose a job is apt to do.

So, yay for the office fic:)

[dreamer1789.livejournal.com]

That was amazing! Usually I don't read fanfic about the military, but this time you got me snared. ;)

A good bout of humour--
"They had survived the first week under Havoc's ostensible tenure as office manager -- in practice, everything landed on Falman's desk while the others debated where the lieutenant might be vacationing this year."

-- and strangely addicting:
"He was holding my pay envelope," she admitted in a rush. "In his right hand. And -- and tapping it against his left palm. Rather like a riding crop," she added, using the file folder to demonstrate.

Can't wait for part 2.

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I don't usually write fanfic about the military, but this one snuck up on me. It's always fun to use one of the minor characters for POV, too -- one has a little bit more freedom to play with the characterization and backstory. I enjoyed imagining Falman as a greenhorn private.

Can't wait for part 2.

I'm working on it ... I got stuck somehow over the transition (or, put another way, Roy Mustang has his feet up on his desk and is refusing to cooperate. This is what happens when you write a 'fic wherein Hawkeye is on vacation, I suppose). I also got sidetracked onto a couple of contest entries, but I'm going to try to get back to this one and finish it ASAP.

[rare-fandom.livejournal.com]

So much love for this. Because it has Falman love, military dog cameos, lovely detail, and everybody is so in character.

[nebroadwe.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I really need to get this one finished -- the end has been sitting around in draft for far too long.