Hypochondriac

Roy stood outside his office with about half the hospital staff, patients and visitors right beside him, staring in at the explosion of colors that filled the room.



"So, Mustang. Got a secret admirer or something?" his best friend and worst annoyer, Maes Hughes asked unnecessarily.



"Yeah, Hughes, it\'d seem like that, huh?" Roy snapped back irritably, wondering how the hell he was going to get to his desk with a rainbow of flowers that seemingly filled the room.



"Well, who are they from?" the green eyed surgeon demanded, gesturing at the office. He sighed and went into his office, ignoring the various catcalls from the various teenaged patients and visitors who found it amusing a man would be receiving flowers. He went from vase to vase but all he came across was a single card that had \'To the one I love\' written on it in messy scrawl.



He stared at it, flabbergasted for a moment, a faint niggling in the back of his head that said this particular handwriting was familiar before it was gone, lost in a sea of confusion. If he had an admirer, whoever it was was doing a very good job at hiding who they were. Ignoring Hughes and the people outside he shut the blinds to his office, locking the door before settling down at his desk. The whole room smelled of perfume and seemed suddenly more enjoyable than he would have expected, being cramped in with so many plants. "To the one I love.." he read aloud, pondering the words as he stared at the bright blue ink. Five little words and yet Roy could feel his heart beating in his chest, a faint blush on his cheeks. Who could have done this?



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It\'d been over a month since the multicolored display in his office had made its appearance and he\'d seen hide nor hair of his secret admirer. Eventually he\'d been forced to throw all the flowers away, keeping just a single lily, his favorite kind of flower, pressing it between the pages of one of his old text books to keep. That and the card with the messy, yet endearingly cute handwriting, which he kept in his wallet. On occasion, he brought it out, just to look at the words written on the white rectangle of paper, only to sigh softly and return it back to the little compartment. Where was this strange, secret person?



He shook himself and grabbed a chart off the top of the pile, heading towards the clinic room and receiving quite a shock. He hadn\'t seen Jean Havoc in his office for a month, now, not since the bike incident!



"Well, well, Mr. Havoc. Back for more, I see." Roy laughed, setting the chart down and grinning at the man, who had the proper decency to look ashamed. "What\'s the damage this time?"



"Ah, well.. I spent the last month at boot camp." he admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "And I managed to make it through everything unscathed. But then I fell getting off the plane when it landed back here, in Central, and I think I sprained my ankle."



[i]Boot camp? So he\'s a soldier.[/i] Roy mused inwardly, gesturing for Jean to take off his shoe and show him the sprain. He could see the glint of the metal chain just barely above the neck of his t-shirt from his dogtags. [i]He\'s spent the last month working out.. I bet he\'s gotten even more muscular and sexy.[/i]



He coughed and kicked himself inwardly, gently exploring the swollen ankle. "Just a light sprain, nothing serious." he said after a few moments, not feeling any breaks or muscle tears. "Just keep off it for a day or two and keep it elevated and iced."



Jean nodded and gave him his usual goofy grin, lacing his boot back up before sliding off the table. "Thanks, doc."



He paused, as if mulling something over, then blushed and shrugged. "Listen. Um.. I had these reservations at that Italian restaurant you told me about for that person and I, but then they kind of found someone else. I was wondering if you\'d like to go with me? As a thank you for being so patient with me? No pun intended." he said quickly, clearly nervous. "They were hard to get, you see, made them over a month ago and it\'d be a shame to waste it."



Roy mulled that over for a long time, his cheeks a faint pink at what Havoc seemed to be suggesting. [i]A date? Him and I?[/i] he thought inwardly, then sighed and shook himself. [i]Of course not, he\'s just saying thank you for me treating him so many times.[/i]



"Sure. That\'d be nice. I\'d like that." he replied with a small smile. A huge grin spread over Jean\'s face and he nodded enthusiastically. "Great! I can\'t wait, then!" he said, turning to go and stopping in the doorway with an almost audible screech. "Pick you up at your place at 8?"



Roy nodded dumbly and the blond beamed at him, almost bouncing out of the door and towards the exit. "But wait.. how do you know where I live?" he asked the empty room, utterly perplexed. It was definitely going to be an interesting night.



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Roy bounced on his heels impatiently as he stood in his driveway, staring at his watch before staring down the street. It was about 7:56PM by his watch and he was nearly crazy with anticipation. He\'d hoped Jean would be here a little early and had managed to stay inside the house until about 7:45PM, finally giving up and running outside to eagerly await the man\'s arrival. He\'d agonized for hours on what to wear, finally settling on black loafers, nice, plain black slacks and a red silk dress shirt that accented his pale features and gave him a little color. He\'d showered, shaved ever last possible bit of stubble and had stared at his hair in the mirror for little over twenty minutes, just sizing it up, before tackling it with a comb. Finally tamed for once, it lay neatly against his head, except for the one irritating piece that always jutted out. But, there was nothing he could do about it. His glasses were sitting on his bureau, since he wouldn\'t be doing anything more complicated than reading a menu. He knew it wasn\'t a date, beat that fact into his skull over and over again.... but he couldn\'t help wanting to impress the man, if ever a little.



At exactly 8:00PM, as promised, a rather worn, but trusty looking pickup truck drove up the street and parked in front of his driveway, a neat looking Jean Havoc waving from the driver\'s seat. He slid in and buckled up, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. The blond was dressed in tan slacks and a blue cotton collared shirt that brought out the blue of his eyes, his hair as spiky and unruly as always, a cigarette perched between his lips. "Hey, Doc! You look nice tonight. Not that you don\'t always look nice, it\'s just the lab coat always hides your clothes!" he said hastily, blushing and driving off.



"You, too. Nice to see you made it here without injury." he teased, grinning a little at him. [i]Stop flirting![/i]



They drove the rest of the way in awkward silence, Roy staring out the window while Jean quietly smoked. As a doctor, he was opposed to the idea of smoking but when the younger man did it... well.. he looked sexy. Natural.



It wasn\'t long before they got in and were seated, a light, airy song playing in the background. Jean grinned at him from across the table and opened the menu, which made Roy wake up, kick himself under the table for openly drooling over the other man, and open up his own menu. Orders were placed and they were left staring across the table at one another, at a loss for what to say. Finally, it seemed, Havoc could take the silence no more and grinned sheepishly, stirring his straw in his glass of water. "So, why did you become a doctor?" he asked, a slight edge to his voice as if he was mentally capitulating against himself for asking such a stupid question.



"It just felt right. I\'d always liked science and math and I was very good at that. It was pretty much a done deal from a young age I was going to be a doctor. I was an intern under my friend\'s father, actually, Doctor Hawkeye, at the hospital in East City. He taught me everything he knew and then he passed away, sadly, of lung cancer. I finished my fellowship and then moved out here and got a job in the Central Hospital and i\'ve been there ever since." he explained, smiling slightly. "I was raised by my adoptive mother who, um.. who runs a.. well.. a brothel. So we never had much money. But I didn\'t want to be stuck in that rut forever. So I became a doctor and now i\'m pretty well off, i\'m happy to say. No more brothel for me."



He didn\'t know why he was being so open with Jean. Even Hughes didn\'t know much about him and they were supposedly best friends. Or so the green eyed man kept protesting every time Roy hit him for obsessing over his daughter, anyway. There was just something so disarming about him that immediately made him feel relaxed and at ease.



"I\'m a farm boy from the south, myself. Grew up on a farm with my ma and pa and six brothers and a sister." Jean said, grinning sheepishly. "It was a hard life, but we got by. I got a job as a construction worker up here in Central after I barely graduated high school. But these past few years have been tough, so I joined up with the military. Pay isn\'t great, but I can make a living."



They fell back into an awkward silence before the food was delivered and blissfully distracted them from the discomfort. He ate slowly, knowing their time together was coming to a close and never wanting it to end. He felt a strange uneasiness deep inside of him that made him feel like Jean would be going away again, soon.. And all of a sudden, that bothered him.



But like all good things, their plates were emptied and then the bill was delivered and Roy found himself being led out to Jean\'s car. "So.. I can.. take you home.." the soldier said slowly, fiddling with his keys, "or maybe you could come back to my place for a drink?"



Roy felt his heart skip a beat and nodded mutely, eyes wide. "A drink would be nice."



He slid into the car and buckled up once more, swallowing nervously and fidgeting in his seat, trying to calm his breathing and act normal. Just because Jean invited him back for a drink didn\'t mean anything, he was just being nice! He was so hopeless.