#only the sanity and well-being of underpaid finance undersecretary yi lin
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presumenothing · 4 years ago
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When Yi had been tasked with accompanying His Highness the Crown Prince Yao on the trade deal negotiations with Amestris, this is not what they had been expecting. 
(Then again, they hadn’t expected to be tasked with this at all to begin with – if they’d ever wanted an eventful life they would’ve joined literally any other department besides the Ministry of Revenue, for heaven’s sake.
“Because the Minister is ancient and I’m allergic to the desert,” Vice-Minister Chen had said blandly; clearly the why had been writ large on Yi’s face, even though they hadn’t been about to ask aloud. “Besides, it’s no secret that the Crown Prince has the best chance of getting a favourable deal out of those Amestrisans anyway, as long as he doesn’t get distracted. That’ll be your main job, though nominally you’re there as a third party to ensure that he doesn’t ask for anything blatantly in favour of the Yao or Chang clans, since the Lins aren’t affiliated to either. Security’s already handled as well, you don’t have to worry about that.”
………Yi hadn’t even realised that could be something to worry about until right then. It was knowledge they really, really could’ve done without, just like the terrifying midnight visit from the Crown Prince’s knife-happy bodyguard to make sure that Yi isn’t some kind of assassin posing as a finance undersecretary.
Totally uncalled for, since if it’d been daylight Yi could’ve just shown with a schedule and simple math that they didn’t have time to work two jobs even if they’d wanted to.
Which they don’t; the only person they’ve ever wanted to murder is that one clerk in Jingzhou who always messed up the tax filings, and even that would be more trouble that it was worth.) 
Anyway. Yi’s preparation for this diplomatic visit had mostly been focused on reviewing the proposed trade deal, but they’d known even before leaving Xing that they were going to be negotiating with the Flame Alchemist, and… well, even someone who cared as little about politics as they did couldn’t help having some kind of assumptions on hearing that.
Which, Yi decides as they accept a mug of tea from General Mustang’s capable adjutant, only goes to show why they should continue sticking with numbers forever, seeing as pretty much every one of those assumptions had been mistaken. The tea is actually well-made, first of all, not burnt like the traders to Amestris always complained about.
It’s not poisoned, either, though of course Yi only thinks about that after the Crown Prince has taken several big gulps of tea, any one of which would probably have been sufficiently toxic if it’d actually been poisoned.
Which is in turn after the adjutant places a mug on… huh, the sill of a half-open window.
Yi blinks at that, then at the Flame Alchemist, who heaves the familiar sigh of the bureaucratically-burdened. “Can you please ask Lan Fan to just come in, we really could do without another assassination scare.”
The Crown Prince laughs – cackles, more accurately, like it’s not weird at all that a foreign general knows his bodyguard by name. “For that, your sentries would actually have to spot her first. Anyway, it’s just more incentive for you to wrap this up quickly, no? I’ve got an all-you-can-eat out there somewhere with my name on it!”
“Please don’t say that like I’m the one who’s been causing the delays in this deal.”
“Well, the last time it was Ed– huh, where are they, anyway?” the Crown Prince asks, twisting around in his seat like he expects someone to materialise despite the closed office door. “I’d have thought they would be here by now.”
General Mustang looks very much like he’s mentally pinching the bridge of his nose, which Yi mostly recognises by virtue of experiencing the exact same emotion. “In interest of finishing this sometime today, I banned the Elrics from stepping foot into Central Command until Hawkeye gives them the all-clear.”
Yi’s brain gets so stuck on the Elrics (calculating their potential lucrativeness in Xing’s economy is one of the most popular Ministry of Revenue party games after all) that they almost miss the Crown Prince’s question. 
“So what’s the all-clear?”
“These kittens we happened to have found this morning,” answers General Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, as his adjutant indicates the definitely-meowing cloth-lined basket in one corner of the room. “Which I’m sure you wouldn’t want to deprive Alphonse of for a moment longer than necessary – stop laughing before I stuff these documents in your face.”
Then the general has to dodge the thwip of a knife flying in through the window to embed itself in the wall while the Crown Prince falls off his seat laughing and the adjutant remains completely unruffled.
“More tea?” she asks serenely.
Yi nods fervently, holding out the mug like they hadn’t left the desert after all. “Please.”
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(more fics here)
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