Burn Out

When the government called for the National Alchemists to repair the damage done to the streets on Central in the latest Homunculus clash (not that anyone knew that was what it in fact was), They put the Flame Alchemist and Full Metal Alchemist to work on the same street.

No one accounted for the hot sun, and this created a very interesting phenomenon. Around 2 in the afternoon, women around the city began to disappear ... and a crowd, primarily of females, formed along Third Street.

This was, coincidentally, the street along which a now-shirtless Flame and Full Metal Alchemist toiled, the former drawing alchemical arrays and utilizing them, the latter slapping his metal and flesh hand against each other and performing rapid repairs. And while they worked, they chattered ... or rather, argued. Vehemently.

"Why should I have to clean up this mess!? I didn't have anything to do with it!"

"It's the least you can do, Full Metal, in reparation for all the damages you have caused elsewhere."

"Why you—! And who sent me to those places, huh?"

"If you mean to imply that I am responsible for the damages you have caused by proxy, then you'll have quite a case to make."

"Argh ... waitaminute. When did ...?"

Edward Elric straightened from the six-foot hole he had been repairing to stare at the hordes of girls that were—for lack of a more accurate word—ogling him. He blinked a few times. "Mustang, why are we being watched?"

Mustang straightened as well, and swiped his forearm across his forehead, also sweeping his gaze over the girls. "Hm." He glanced at his subordinate and his washboard stomach, and smirked for a moment. "Bow for your fans, Full Metal," he said. "It appears your fit body has earned you a following akin to mine."

Edward glanced down at himself, then up at the swooning girls, and grunted. "Looks more like they're your fans to me," he said bluntly. "None of my fangirls would look so airheaded."

"I suppose; nor would they be so tall," Mustang allowed.

The screaming could be heard for BLOCKS.