Work Text:
Mustang stood at the curb, leaning in as he outlined Milk’s next mission.
"Listen bien, Milk. Your target is this man—he’s been causing trouble at Coin Rush. I need you to handle it, vite, before he makes another mess."
His hands gestured wildly, mixing French and English with every sentence. Milk, arms crossed, looked unimpressed, her patience thinning with each extravagant detail.
Suddenly, from the building across, Ade’s voice rang out—"Commander!"
The call cut through the hum of the streets near Cafe Sweety's, drawing Mustang’s attention instantly. He spun around, his tail-bulb-thing whipping through the air. As soon as it did, it caught an individual squarely in the side, sending them crashing into the wall with a thunderous crack (too fast for anyone to make out the identity of the poor, unfortunate soul), the plaster giving way beneath them.
Milk didn’t miss a beat. She stomped over, arms crossed, glaring at Mustang. "Damn it, sir, I told you to watch where you turn."
Mustang flashed a sheepish grin. "My apologies, mesdames. Sometimes the accessory has a mind of its own, n’est-ce pas?"
When the dust finally settled, Sugar lay sprawled in the debris, semi-conscious, barely stirring as fragments of plaster settled around her.