Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The swordsman drags her across the floor, her hair flopping against the ground. 

Her breath rasping.

The pool of blood getting bigger.

No. No. NO!

His arms straining against the men who held him back, straining to get to her, to help her, to SAVE HER.

"Lieutenant!"

Colonel Roy Mustang bolted up in bed, eyes wide open, heart racing, seeing nothing but darkness.

The smells of blood and Riza Hawkeye still filled his nostrils but the smell of antiseptic began to seep in.

"...Sir?" Lieutenant Hawkeye’s sleepy voice came from his left.

With her voice confirming her continued life his pulse immediately began to slow from its rapid-fire pace.

Just a dream, just another dream. It was just a dream, but still, he struggled to get the image of her bleeding out of his mind.

"It's nothing, Lieutenant. Sorry to wake you." He heard her shift her weight in her bed next to his, the sound of the covers moving once again reassuring his racing heart.

It's remarkable how much you can hear when you can't see.

"Another nightmare, sir?"

"Yep, just another nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it, sir?"

Did he want to talk about it? How could he tell her that he thought his heart was going to stop beating when he saw her bleeding out on the Promised Day, her throat cut by one of the horrible Fuhrer look-alikes? How could he tell her that he felt like he was being shredded in two by the decision to either let her die right then or to commit alchemy's most heinous sin with the knowledge that it would just enable her death later? How could he tell her, his subordinate no less! That he loved her?

She was still dealing with her own wounds from that day; she didn't need to deal with his.

Besides, he had given up any semblance of a personal life when he dedicated himself to becoming Fuhrer. There wasn’t any point in telling her. 

"No, everything is fine, Lieutenant."

There were a million reasons for him to just keep his definitely-not-professional emotions to himself.

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Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye looked at her commanding officer in the moonlit room as he turned away, wiggling his shoulders like he was ordering himself to sleep. Sleep didn't work like that, as she knew well, but if that's what the Colonel wanted to do, she wasn't going to push it. 

She worried for him, though she desperately tried not to show it. He was the most important person in her life. When she thought that he had died at Lust’s hands… her world ended. It only began again when she saw him standing before her, alive. She knew that her… feelings toward him weren’t professional. They hadn’t been for a long time, which had been fine when they were teenagers, but now… now she tried to suppress them to the best of her ability. There wasn’t any point in acting on her romantic feelings toward her superior officer .

You would think that I would be over it by now… she thought to herself. But, here she was, still gazing at him in the moonlight, suddenly grateful he couldn't see her staring at him.

He could never know, of course. He could never know that the woman who had pledged her life to defend him, had pledged her life to serve him, whom he had defended on multiple occasions, was stupid enough to fall in love with him. And stay in love. For a ridiculously long amount of time. For one, military members were forbidden from dating one another— especially a commanding officer and a subordinate. And additionally, everyone knew that women flocked to the Colonel like flies to honey. She didn't need to besmirch his reputation by becoming the subordinate who fell for him. 

Better to keep things strictly business and VERY strictly professional.

There were a million reasons for her to just keep her definitely-not-professional emotions to herself.

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye smiled as she stepped out of the hospital doors. It had been several days since she had been given a brief leave from the hospital, and she appreciated the chance to breathe air that didn’t smell of cleaning solution and illness. She had only been permitted out to begin making arrangements on the Colonel’s behalf. This was also a test to see how much of her military duties she could maintain, since she was still light-headed, due to her blood loss. She hailed a waiting cab and asked for Central Command. 

She sat back and watched the rebuilding city through the window. Their little coup had caused quite a lot of damage. She fought back images of Ishval as she saw the piles of rubble that grew bigger approaching Central Command. I’m not in Ishval, she reminded herself, and there were few civilian casualties , which was actually a minor miracle, in and of itself. It was fortunate that the Amestrian citizenry was so trusting of their military and they obeyed orders to stay inside so well. Fortunate and concerning, for the Colonel’s plans of the populace one day ordering the military, rather than the other way around. 

That, however, was a problem for another day. The cab pulled up to central command, and she paid the cab driver before getting out. 

As she walked into the damaged building she mentally reviewed her lists: — both the one the Colonel had given her and the one she had made herself of what the Colonel had forgotten. Things like: See the lay of the land for leadership, ensure our team is put in a good light, find out how quickly the Colonel can get into decision-making meetings, find temporary offices until we can get moved to Ishval, figure out who is in charge of Ishval, check with Fuery about Black Hayate…..

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Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye walked out of Central Command much more slowly than she had walked in, doing her best not to visibly sway. There was so much to do and so much going on all at once. Hopefully, she could remember all of the details that the Colonel would inevitably ask for so that he could lay out his master plan. She was carrying a stack of documents that needed the Colonel’s signature— or rather, his verbal approval, and her best approximation of his signature. That was their current solution, which was a work in progress, at best, and yet, there was so much still to be done - 

“Riza Hawkeye, could it be?” A familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. Her tired brain fought to place it. She turned, her back automatically straightening to perfect military posture. The man before her smiled, sending an unexpected chill down her spine, and said, “Oh come on, no need for such formality among old academy friends?” 

She blinked, as she struggled to place the face before her. Blond hair - in desperate need of a military haircut - blue eyes, strong jaw. He would be the type of guy that Rebecca would obsess over except for the look in his eyes….

“Dent??” she guessed, her mind in a haze. 

“Well, now it’s Captain Dent, of course,” he corrected, quickly enough that Riza’s alarm bells started ringing. So fixated on his rank - never a sign of a good soldier. “Though, I expect I’ll be Major, before too long. I’ve moved up the farthest out of everyone that graduated with us. Though, with you being Mustang’s adjunct, I’ve had to keep my eye on you, Hawkeye,” he stated with a smile and an easy laugh. That smile had always made Riza slightly uneasy, although she could never figure out why. 

Riza’s brain finally provided the information as he prattled on about how important his new post in the West was. Harold Dent, sorry, Captain Harold Dent, had been in her class during basic training. He was arrogant, something even Ishval couldn’t take out of him and was almost as determined to climb in the military as the Colonel was. Something in his eyes often made Riza uncomfortable, but... he usually wasn’t too much of a threat. So long as he didn’t have anything to hold over your head. Unfortunately, she was currently too tired to deal with him. 

“It’s good to see you,” she stated, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “However, I really need to go— “ 

“Well, let’s share a cab then!” He chuckled. “You’re staying in the temporary barracks, right? On the west side of the city?” 

“No, actually.” 

“What, Mustang is making you stay at the hospital with him?? Rather demanding, isn’t he?” he said, eyebrows raised with a knowing look in his eye. It wasn’t necessarily the first time that Riza had gotten that look, but the way he did it made her more uneasy than any time before.

“Well… I’m actually a patient there as well, I was just granted temporary leave to take care of a couple of things here,” Riza hated the admission that she was WEAK, and INJURED and that she couldn’t just push through it. She hated  that others had to take care of things for her just as Dent seemed insistent on doing as he hailed a cab for her. 

“Of course, of course!!” he stated, cutting her off. “Say, why don’t we go out to dinner to catch up? Next Saturday, 7 pm? I’ll pick you up from the hospital but don’t wear your uniform. Or your hospital gown. You do have something else, don’t you?” He gave her  what he might have intended to be a seductive smirk as he shut the cab door. Only after the cab pulled away did Riza realize that the word “no” was still on the tip of her tongue. It sat there, unsaid, turning bitter and stale.  

There’s NO WAY I’m going. Riza decided to herself. And Dent couldn’t make her.

Chapter Text

“Colonel!!!”

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye woke with a start, her scream still stuck in her throat.

“Is everything alright, Lieutenant?” She turned to see her superior officer looking at her with concern.

Riza’s blood was still pounding in her ears, and black specks popped at the edge of her vision. “Everything is fine, sir.” He’s fine, I’m fine, everything is fine, she sternly told herself, forcing her shallow breaths to go deeper. 

“Are you sure? Because it sounds like I must be REALLY late with my paperwork with the way you’re yelling at me,” he said with his signature smile. He was getting better at directing his eyes to who he was looking at. He knew. Of course he knew. Riza still fought to control her breathing and slow her heart rate. There’s no need to worry him. 

“Just another nightmare, sir.” His eyes immediately grew concerned. It was amazing how expressive they still were, despite the fact that they could no longer see.

Awkward silence filled the room.

Breathe, Riza, breathe. Riza took deep breaths in and out, allowing her racing heart to slow. Just as Riza had calmed herself down enough to maybe think about sleep, the Colonel spoke again.

“Lieutenant, could I… hold you?”. 

She turned to him. Did he really just ask what I thought he did? “Sir, I’m fine,” she stated. “I apologize for waking you. Please go back to sleep”. 

The Colonel was sitting up in bed with a sheepish look on his face. “Well… I might have just woken myself up from a nightmare when you called out for me. I thought, since we both…. Actually, never mind. Good night, Lieutenant.” And with that, he turned away from her to lay back down.

Riza couldn’t help but stare at him, her mind whirling. As much as she wanted to agree with his suggestion, it wasn’t exactly wise. Mustang’s breathing was still too fast to be anywhere close to sleep. Well… just once couldn’t hurt, right? It was just two soldiers who were very close, giving each other comfort for their shared trauma. Yep, nothing out of the ordinary.  

She took a deep breath. “Should I come to you, or are you able to come to me, sir?” 

Mustang turned and stretched out on the bed to cast his eyes in her general direction. “You’re still dizzy when you move? I’ll come to you.”

It took a few minutes, as she had to carefully coach him across the few-foot gap in between their beds. At last, they were both sitting against her headboard, her head on his shoulder, with their arms around each other. She had mostly agreed to it for the Colonel’s sake, but she couldn't deny that it was… comforting. Riza felt her breath slowing, and her eyelids growing heavy. 

We’ll have to let go before the nurses come in tomorrow morning was her last conscious thought.

Dr. Wilhelm Wundt took a deep breath. Hawkeye and Mustang were quite the pair. He was not entirely sure who okayed a superior officer and his opposite-gender subordinate sharing a hospital room. But, according to the hospital staff, their coworkers swore that it would expedite healing for them both. Wilhelm remained skeptical. The Lieutenant was still healing very slowly from her wounds, but that was typical for patients who had suffered massive blood loss. 

Wilhelm opened the door. “Colonel Mustang? Lieutenant Hawkeye?” he said, walking into the room—oh. That was an unexpected sight. They were both sitting in Hawkeye’s bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, clearly asleep. Both were more relaxed than he had ever seen them, Hawkeye in particular. At his footsteps, Colonel Mustang began to stir.

“Who is it?” he asked in a sleepy voice, though it bore an undercurrent of a threat. His occupied arm drew Hawkeye closer as his free arm moved in front of them, fingers ready to snap. It wasn’t quite aimed at him, but it was close enough to be clearly intended as a threat. 

Wilhelm felt his heart begin to race. He knew Mustang probably wouldn’t actually set him on fire…once Mustang remembered who he was. 

“Good morning, Colonel Mustang. My name is Dr. Wundt, and I’m a psychologist with the hospital. We talked a few days ago.” At his words, Colonel Mustang eased and lowered his hand. Wilhelm took several deep breaths to calm himself down.

“Sorry, the Lieutenant usually identifies visitors for me. Lieutenant??” Mustang woke up enough to recognize that she was still in his arms and was still asleep. “She’s a really light sleeper, she should’ve woken up by now,” he trailed off, as he began to shake her awake, his eyebrows creasing in concern.

“I wouldn't do that, Colonel,” Wilhelm said. If he didn’t know better, he’d crack a joke about newlyweds or something, but his survival instincts were better than that. “Her color is good, and I think she can use the rest”.

Mustang stopped shaking Hawkeye but kept his arm around her. Interesting. “Are you here for me or for her?”

Hawkeye’s eyes blinked open, as she began to stir. 

“Oh, hello, Doctor.” As she woke up, her eyes widened, and she jumped out of Mustang’s grasp, immediately tensing and squaring her shoulders. “Doctor, let me explain -”

Wilhelm fought down a smile. Of course, Hawkeye worried about their appearance while Mustang seemed oblivious.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, do you remember the only reasons that I would break confidentiality? We discussed it in our first session,” Wilhelm reassured.

Hawkeye relaxed, leaning back against Mustang. “Only if one of us is planning on hurting ourselves or others, or if there is elder or child abuse,” she repeated back to him, probably verbatim.

“And I’m assuming that this position was not hurting either one of you?” Again, Wilhelm fought a smile as he said it.

“No sir. I actually…, It was the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while.”

Mustang smiled, turning to her. “Aw, Lieutenant.”

She glared at him, and then, evidently recognizing that he was still blind, stated, "Don't read too much into it, sir ". 

Mustang smiled and touched his fingertips to his forehead in a mock salute. "Yes, Lieutenant". 

“And it’s time for you to return to your own bed.”

Wilhelm was not touching that. Fortunately, Mustang complied and started moving back to the other bed.

Wilhelm figured it was time to step in. "There are two options that we could consider from this point. I need to talk to both of you this morning. Either I can pull each of you aside like we did last time, or we could have a longer chat with both of you together. The same rules of confidentiality would apply - no discussing what we discuss in this session with anyone else.”

Mustang shrugged, but he had noticeably perked up at the idea of remaining with Hawkeye. "Wouldn't hurt to stay here, eh?"

“That’s fine,” Hawkeye stated indifferently, rearranging her sheets. 

“And Hawkeye should go first,” Mustang stated.

And thus began one of the most interesting therapy sessions of Doctor Wilhelm Wundt’s career. Hawkeye had a nightmare about Mustang… doing a transmutation? An odd fear for a State Alchemist. Mustang freaked out about Hawkeye being harassed by someone named Pride. And apparently, Mustang’s nightmare was about Hawkeye fighting someone named… Lust? An apt metaphor, considering he had found her sleeping next to one of the biggest ladies men of the military, at the beginning of the session. Except…he wasn’t sure it WAS a metaphor? He heard enough to suspect that the official story regarding the coup wasn’t 100% accurate, but that wasn’t his business. As much as he would LOVE for it to BE his business, prying for his own curiosity was, sadly, unethical. Mustang’s goal of becoming Fuhrer seemed to be the driving motivation for both of their lives. He was now seriously concerned about both of them. Wilhelm didn’t know whether to smile at the sentiment they shared (and that Hawkeye actually showed emotion in the session) or scream at the co-dependence. A LOT more work for BOTH of them. And neither of them particularly wants to be in therapy. Fantastic. He spent most of the session thinking of ways to tactfully ask:  ‘Do either of you have anything to live for besides each other? Hobbies, even?’ with no success.

Fortunately, both were still in the hospital, so Wilhelm could bug them anytime. So, like most therapists when they didn’t know what to do, he set up a follow-up session and made a note to do further research. And to never, ever, do therapy with two clients together again. Especially not clients as co-dependent as those two.

Chapter Text

“Come on, brother, just a bit farther”.

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye looked up from the book she was reading. The voice was smaller now and echoed less, but it was definitely the voice of Alphonse Elric.

“Why are we going to the Colonel, of all people?”

And there was Edward, as well.

“Because I want to see him and Lieutenant Hawkeye,” Alphonse responded as the door opened. The Elric brothers walked in, or rather, Edward walked in, pushing Alphonse’s wheelchair. Alphonse seemed… slumped, like the weight of his suit of armor was still physically pushing him down. Odd. I would have thought that Alphonse would have gotten stronger with time, not weaker, Riza mused to herself. One look at Edward’s face, though, and the situation became clearer. Edward Elric was mad. He was as angry as Riza had ever seen him, and she had seen him angry many times. Whatever he was worked up about was worse than any short joke or any ribbing the Colonel had ever given him.

“Hello, Edward and Alphonse, how are you doing today?” Riza greeted them. She hoped that her tone would help calm whatever was happening with the boys. Maybe she should have sounded more distressed since the Colonel definitely did not see their clearly distressed body language.

“About time you showed up, Fullmetal,” the Colonel drawled as he usually did, even though this situation was far from usual. “Shirking orders again?”

Riza knew better. The nurses gave them regular updates on both boys. The Colonel was giving Edward a hard time because he was bored, and Edward provided entertainment. Not seeing the boys in person meant he didn’t have anyone to push him like Edward did.

Edward leaned his head down to look at his brother. “Why did you expect the colonel to be helpful here?? He’s probably just going to say something stupid like ‘Well, you’re so short, you probably just forgot to look up for him. Are you sure he’s dead and you haven’t just misplaced him?’”

Alphonse turned to his brother, his face twisting. “Well, both the Colonel and Lieutenant Hawkeye have lost parents, I thought— “

“So have we. We lost him once, it’s not a big deal to lose him again.” stated Edward, his rising volume and increasingly heavy footsteps giving away his hurt.

Alphonse physically recoiled. “But he is dead this time Brother!! Not gone, DEAD” he yelled back, his throat sounding like it was beginning to get choked up.

“Well, if I can’t help you deal with it, then let the Colonel handle it then, since apparently he’s an expert.” Edward finished the last sentence with a yell and then shoved his brother’s wheelchair further into the room, before turning out the door at a run.

Time to intervene, Riza decided, struggling to comprehend the fact that Edward had just abandoned his brother. She stepped off the bed, the ground still slightly swaying beneath her feet. “Stupid blood loss,” she muttered to herself, as she had been for the past few weeks whenever she was reminded of just how weak she was. Alphonse was trying to push his wheelchair forward. As her lightheadedness dissipated, Riza gently pushed him toward the Colonel’s bed. “Colonel, please help Alphonse. I’m going to go after Edward.”

“Lieutenant— “ the Colonel began, getting caught in his blankets as he struggled to his feet. Judging by his fervor, he’d figured out something was wrong. About time, Riza thought to herself.

“Stay. Here,” she commanded again as she walked out the door. The last thing she needed was a blind Colonel cursing Edward as they ran after him. As she walked through the doorway, she heard a loud thud and a yelp of pain.

That would be Edward, then.

She turned, to see him cradling his right arm. He looked up at her, tears in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said, though the wobble in his voice betrayed his true feelings. Riza raised her eyebrows at him. He chose to look at the wall behind her, his eyes unfocused. “Honestly, I don’t care. He hasn’t ever cared, he hasn’t ever been involved in my life, and it doesn’t matter that he’s dead.”

“Van Hohenheim?” Riza clarified.

“Oh… yeah.” Edward slumped against the wall and decided that the floor next to him was the next victim of his glare. “Van Hohenheim is dead. Granny called and let us know. He didn’t even come and visit us in the hospital or anything, he just went straight to Mom’s grave and died there, apparently.”

Edward paused as he gulped in air, clearly trying not to cry. Poor kid. Riza hadn’t really KNOWN the guy, but still. The Elric brothers had it rough enough already.

“Granny was the one who found him. She’s planning on burying him next to her, which means that I’m going to have to see him every time I go to Mom’s grave, and he’s going to think I’m visiting him when I just want to see her because she was the one who was actually interested in being a parent…” He stopped and bowed his head as his voice finally broke.

Only Riza’s years of training kept her emotions from bursting out of her. Edward Elric tried so hard to be so tough. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was sixteen. A sixteen-year-old who joined the military at twelve and had spent most of his childhood raising himself and his younger brother. A tear escaped his efforts, and started making a break for it down his cheek. He was still gazing at the distant wall, clearly unwilling to meet Riza’s gaze.

Riza hesitated. Riza wasn’t ordinarily a share-my-sob-story type person, but it HAD been helpful to Edward in the past.“You know… my father probably cared more, and certainly spoke more, to the Colonel as his apprentice, than he ever did to me.” Edward looked at her. “And yet…I still cried for several days when he died. And I still cried off and on during training.”

Edward’s eyes widened, shock filling his face. After a moment he looked pensive, sitting in careful pondering. Eventually, he spoke again. “When did you stop crying?”

“Ishval.”

Just as always, with that one word the images of the war swept unbidden into Riza’s mind; piles of bodies, and the view of bullets ripping through them through a sniper’s scope, and blood, and blood, and blood—

Just as always, she tried in vain to shove those memories down to the deepest parts of her brain.

“Do you ever miss him?” Edward asked, oblivious to her distraction.

It took a moment for Riza to realize Edward had spoken again. “Well, uh… miss him is strong. More like… I miss what he could have been. I miss the opportunity that he didn’t take to be a better father. I probably mourned the relationship we could have had more than I ever mourned him.”

Edward managed to produce a sad smile. “Al’s been telling me stuff Van Hohenheim told him when they spent those months together prepping for the Promised Day. He got to travel an awful lot over the years and learned a lot about different forms of alchemy. Started quite a few of them, actually.” He forced out a wet laugh and shook his head, shaking his golden bangs in front of his face. “You know, Al keeps telling me I need to look past him leaving us, that it was for the good of Amestris, and that there’s more to him than that. But honestly, I can’t get past that he just left us, and that he left Mom, especially when she needed him. She was dying. What kind of man doesn’t go to his dying wife? What kind of man leaves his children to be ORPHANS? What kind of man doesn’t even contact those children until it’s convenient for HIM?” Edward looked down at his hands, voice softening. “Forgiveness for someone like that? It’s not possible.”

Riza knew that feeling all too well. “Forgiveness is a process, Edward. It takes time, and the process is different for everyone. It’s certainly going to look different for you than it will for Alphonse, not only because you and Alphonse had different relationships with your father, but also because you’re different people.“

Edward’s head cocked to the side. Considering. After a minute, he asked an unexpected question: “How did you forgive the Colonel?”

Riza smiled. Leave it to the kid to ask some insightful questions. “Time, Edward. He had to regain my trust. It helped that I also felt guilt about the lives that I had taken in Ishval. As I watched him lead, watched him use the flame alchemy that I had given him, I saw that he did his best to use it well. But it took time for us to rebuild. Rebuilding trust always takes time, far more than it does to destroy.“

Edward smiled a wry, jaded smile, as he wiped his tears and hauled himself to his feet. “And I guess this is why Al insisted on us seeing you then. Well, then, we should get back to Al and the Colonel. Al’s probably sobbed all over the Colonel and is now telling him about how he got to pet a cat yesterday. How has the Colonel been, anyways?”

Riza fell into step beside him as he sauntered back to the room, accepting the sudden change in topic. Now that the tension was gone, she noticed that her head was spinning more than normal. Maybe I went a little too far, she noted. No - I am a soldier, I can deal with this, I can push through, she reminded herself.

“The Colonel is recovering. Slowly. He’s been doing all he can to read up on Ishval - he and I are thinking of returning there, helping them rebuild.”

“Wow, that’s great, Lieutenant!” Alphonse stated as they walked through the door, catching the end of their conversation. Alphonse had moved to the side of the Colonel’s bed rather than at the foot. The Colonel was fidgeting - he was better with feelings than Riza, but emotional conversations still made them both uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Alphonse,” Riza said with the softest smile she could muster. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant Hawkeye, I’m… I’m going to miss him.” It was odd to look at Alphonse Elric’s face. She was so accustomed to that big suit of armor with no facial expressions and very little body language. She didn’t realize how expressive Alphonse was when he could use more than just his voice.

“That’s understandable. Do you want to talk about it?” In truth, Riza wasn’t sure that she could handle another Elric brother dumping all his feelings onto her, but at least Alphonse might be able to admit to himself and others what he was feeling. Even though he should probably see a professional about that and not her and the Colonel, the two of the least emotionally adjusted people on the planet…

“I think my conversation with the Colonel was enough, but thank you, Lieutenant. Brother has physical therapy now, anyways.”

“WHO SAYS I HAVE TO -”

“AT LEAST YOU ONLY HAVE TO DO YOUR ARM. I HAVE TO DO MY WHOLE BODY, SO GET OVER IT!”

Riza smiled. She always enjoyed watching Alphonse Elric smack down his older brother.

The boys said their goodbyes and left. The Colonel didn't forget to give Edward a good ribbing about forgetting to "report in" about physical therapy, Edward rolled his eyes, but Riza knew he would be back. And talk about everything BUT physical therapy. The door closed behind them. Riza looked at it after they left. She knew as well as anyone that grief was quite the process. Those boys had a long road ahead of them. Again. But if anyone could do it, it was the Elrics.

"Lieutenant," the Colonel asked, and she’d known him long enough to tell when he was fighting back a wave of regret and anger and pain, "what does Alphonse Elric look like?"

Chapter Text

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye approached the restaurant, her legs shuffling along like two pillars of lead. Every step was an exercise in self-control. Although Riza didn’t keep in contact with anyone from the academy besides Rebecca - they had shared a room, after all - she didn’t normally dread meeting up with any of her former classmates. Dent had always had something… off about him. Riza tried not to show it, but she and Rebecca had also done their best to avoid him. She remembered pulling Rebecca out of more than one unwanted situation with him. Riza herself had usually been able to wiggle out of situations on her own. She had tried to just ignore the invitation until Dent had come to the hospital. Multiple times. And called. Every day. But he had been charming enough to the staff that she knew no one but the Colonel would back her up if she took any action. She had finally agreed to the dinner, just to get rid of him. She would have felt better if there had been more people than just the two of them at the dinner and if it hadn’t been at such a fancy restaurant.. She was not the fancy restaurant eating on fine china type. Most of the time, she barely remembered to eat, too busy with paperwork and keeping their team running.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, how… lovely you look this evening,” said a voice behind her. She turned to see Captain Dent standing there in full military dress.

Why did he wear military dress, when he expressly told me not to? she wondered to herself. She had worn a button-down shirt and slacks. She had gotten more than enough ribbing from Rebecca when she asked her to go to her apartment to check on Hayate and grab her some clothes. Asking for something fancy would just have made it worse.

“You should have worn a skirt, Lieutenant. You seem a bit out of place here.” Dent commented, a crooked grin engulfing the lower half of his face. A bit of lettuce was stuck in his teeth.

Thirty seconds in, and he’s commenting on my clothing? Riza asked herself incredulously. “I didn’t realize there was a dress code,” she commented, ice in her voice.

“Well then, we’ll have to come here more often,” Dent said with a smooth smile, turning her to the host.

Riza felt the smoldering embers inside of her slowly heat into a crackling flame. What was this guy’s problem?

The host seated them at their table, and they ordered drinks. Dent insisted on appetizers, despite Rizas protests to the contrary. It wasn’t like she lacked the money— rather, she wanted to get this night over with as quickly as possible. They discussed what each of them had been doing since the Academy, her more recent activities were heavily censored, and what each of them had heard about their old academy classmates.

“It’s a shame that I haven’t been able to see you more often, Lieutenant Hawkeye,” Dent said over his filet mignon entree. “I’m expecting to be promoted to Central soon - we’ll get the chance to build on our relationship then. In the meantime, we’ll just have to enjoy what we can while I’m here. Build on what we started back in the Academy. Keep hiding in corners, that sort of thing.”

Riza looked at him in shock, her forkful of pasta freezing halfway to her mouth. Hiding in corners? More like, trying to avoid you putting me in a corner. “Military regulations expressly forbid any sort of relationship between military members,” she said slowly, “especially if there is a discrepancy in rank. Furthermore, you are not my type.” She took a sip of her drink to allow herself time to think of her next defense.

He licked a bit of mashed potato off of his fork. “Oh, and is a certain Colonel, your type?”

“Excuse me?” Where did THAT come from? He has to mean Colonel Mustang…there’s no other Colonel I’m anywhere close to.

“Oh come on, it’s one of the most common rumors in the military. Certainly you’ve heard it.” With a leering grin, Dent sipped his wine as if he’d just commented on the weather.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Riza felt her pulse begin to race, and she focused on keeping her features calm. “The Colonel and I are officer and subordinate, nothing more.”

“A particularly close officer and subordinate. “ Dent raised his eyes at her, his gaze glimmering. “And those rumors would certainly be verified if a close academy classmate of yours were to come forward with a story about how you and the Colonel basically grew up together, and how you pined for him all throughout the Academy, proclaiming to anyone and everyone how he was your sole reason for joining the military… I’m sure the promotion committee would be quite interested. It would probably halt any career advancement for either you or him. And probably transfer both of you to opposite sides of the country. ”

Riza sat back in shock. “How did you…” She trailed off. She hadn’t discussed the Colonel with anyone at the Academy. Only a few close and trusted friends knew that he had been the reason why she had joined the military in the first place.

“Oh come on, it’s not that difficult, Lieutenant Hawkeye. After all, it wasn’t difficult to track down what type of Alchemy your father did. And it's not even that difficult to discover the name of his last apprentice. The rest of it is a natural assumption, especially considering your focus on protection and all.”

How do I fix this? She and the Colonel had always kept their past together quiet because they knew that it would lead to untrue speculation, but to have it suddenly brought up and held over her head….

“So you’re threatening me with rumors, Captain?”

“I’m just saying that if you don’t go out with me, I won’t have any reason to suppose otherwise. And a heartbroken man needs to share his sorrows with his friends. Only the closest few dozen, of course.”

“Of course,” Riza said on instinct, looking for a way out, any way out. She flashed back to being trapped by Pride. In that situation, she had been a hostage, plain and simple, and she hadn’t worried, because she knew that they didn’t have a reason to hurt her unless the Colonel stepped out of line. He wouldn’t be that stupid with her life and the lives of the rest of their team on the line.

“Of course,” Dent continued. “Because of the anti-fraternization law, we’ll have to be very careful. Which means keeping it a secret from everyone - including your precious Colonel. If not, I’ll just have to suppose…that you value him more than me. And everything that would go with that assumption….” He trailed off, but the silent threat hung in the air all the same.

Riza stared, her gut churning. This was bad - how in the world was she going to get herself out of this? Her mind began to frantically think of any way out of this that didn’t also drag the Colonel into the limelight. There were enough rumors swirling around him, after the Promised Day.

“I’ll think about it, Captain,” she finally said.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Be certain that you don’t think about it too long. Otherwise…”He again trailed off, the threat hanging in the air, unspoken.

Fortunately, the waiter popped out of nowhere, and Riza nearly knocked the table over and pulled her gun on him. “Will we be having dessert this evening?” he asked as if he hadn’t almost died right there.

Sensing an escape, Riza sprang in before Dent could drag his little charade out further. “Unfortunately not. The hospital will be expecting me back soon.”

The waiter nodded. “Then I will get your check. Enjoy the rest of your date.”

Riza stared after him, just realizing that a couple on a date was exactly what they looked like. She turned to Captain Dent, her eyes blazing with fury. “I don’t appreciate - “

He cut her off. “Choose carefully, Lieutenant Hawkeye… or rather, Riza.”

They finished their entrees in silence; Riza was in no mood to talk. Dent tried to start a few topics of conversation, but she chose not to answer him. Politeness went out the window when he started threatening the Colonel.

Fortunately, Riza had been able to shake off his invitation to go back to his apartment with the excuse that the hospital would be concerned if she wasn’t back soon - flimsy, but true. The Colonel, in particular, would throw a fit if she wasn’t back on the dot, unless he had heard from her personally. She was suddenly grateful that the Colonel did have moments of severe overprotectiveness. She insisted on calling a cab to take her to the hospital, and fortunately, Dent agreed. Ignoring her glare, he insisted on holding the door open and helping her in.

“Quite the nice boyfriend you’ve got there” the cab driver said.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Riza snapped, and they drove to the hospital in silence. Riza’s typically well-organized brain was a chaotic mess. Until something nigged at her. I wonder if this is the first time he’s done this. And if it’s not, and enough witnesses come forward… that would be quite the court-martial. Enough to get him out of the military, and out of my hair, without getting in the Colonel’s way.

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was still turning the issue over in her mind as she got out of the cab. I’ll have to get the witnesses, she mused to herself. If I’m right, these women won’t trust a man with anything near that, no matter how charming the Colonel is. But the Colonel may be helpful in helping cover the investigation, and helping her find Dent’s victims in the first place… Her step quickened, anxious to hear her commanding officer’s thoughts on the matter. A familiar voice jolted her out of her thoughts.

“Riza!!” She was glad that she had looked at the hand grabbing her arm, before she had fully pulled out her gun.

“Rebecca! What are you doing here?”

Rebecca smiled, but there was a wariness underneath that turned Riza’s already pounding heart up a notch. “Just saying hi to my favorite patient! How are you feeling?”

Riza fought a sigh, as she tried not to get bugged at the oft-repeated question. It seemed like it was the only thing people asked her these days. She forced her face into a smile. “I’m doing well. How are you enjoying Central?”

Rebecca’s smile grew even more tense. “Good. But,” she added, lowering her voice. “I’ve heard some interesting rumors that you need to hear. “

Riza scanned Rebecca’s face, trying to read it. “Well, if you don’t mind escorting me up to my room, I’m sure the Colonel - “

“It….may not be best for Mustang to hear these rumors, Riza.”

Riza looked around. Then, noticing a room that the nurses didn’t seem to be using, she pulled her friend toward it. After a brief glance through the window, she pulled her inside.

She turned to Rebecca. “Why shouldn’t he hear them?”

Rebecca hesitated.

Riza sighed “Who did he tick off this time?” With the Colonel’s personality, the list of who wasn’t bugged by him was far shorter than the list of those who were.

“I wouldn’t say, ‘ticked off’....” Rebecca started.

Riza raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, so you know how your little group did the thing with Bradley’s wife, and made everyone think that the top brass military guys were the ones opposing Bradley?? Well…. Those guys have friends. Friends who stayed in power, and who are willing to pull a few strings for them. And who now seriously have a grudge against Mustang.”

Riza shrugged. The Colonel wanted to get up the ranks as quickly as he could - that sort of thing tended to attract enemies. “I’m sure it’s nothing he can’t handle.”

Rebecca scoffed. “No, Riza. This is different. They’re already scrutinizing everything related to him pretty heavily. I know you guys have been able to operate with a fair degree of autonomy, but I don’t think that it’s going to work for a while. They’ve already got informants on the hospital staff - they know that you’ve been signing his paperwork for him.”

Riza almost sighed with relief. If signing paperwork was the worst dirt the hospital staff had on them, then the hospital staff missed quite a bit. “Of course I’m signing paperwork for him, he’s blind.”

“I know that Riza!! But now you’ve got Dent on you, and I don’t know Mustang as well as you, but I know him well enough to know that Mustang is going to wig out, and that is exactly the sort of opening they’re waiting to pounce on!” Her voice escalated half an octave as the words came out in a rush, her hands clenching.

Riza froze. “How did you know about Dent?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “It’s even less of a secret that you’ve had calls from him at all hours of the day. And you were the one who had me bring extra clothes from your apartment. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where you were tonight.”

Riza sighed. “I can take care of him, Rebecca.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened. “No, you can’t! I know you’ve been pretty wrapped up in Mustang, and what he’s been doing, but there’s no way that you’ve missed how quickly that guy has gotten promoted. And I’ve heard more than one rumor of the fellow officers he’s ruined to get there.”

The anxiety that had been swirling in Riza’s stomach solidified. “What fellow officers?”

Rebecca shrugged. “Word on the street is, he gets dirt on someone, and then he holds it over their head to get them to do whatever he wants. Once he’s gotten all he think he can from them, he carries out his threat.”

Riza schooled her face into a blank expression. “I don’t have that much dirt to dig, I doubt he’s got anything to hold over me.”

Rebecca grew even more uncomfortable. “Most of the time…he creates the dirt. Anti-fraternization laws are tricky things.”

Riza’s breath caught, leading Rebecca to stare at her more intensely. Rebecca took a deep breath. “Riza…how did the dinner go tonight?”

“Fine.” The word came out shorter and faster than Riza intended. “I already knew that he was a scumbag. Trust me, I’m capable of handling it.” Riza began walking towards the door. “Is there anything else? I’ll pass along your warning to the Colonel.”

Rebecca grabbed her arm again. “Riza, really take this seriously! Dent could spell serious trouble for both you and Mustang!”

Riza gave her a flat look. “We’ll be careful.”

Rebecca glared at her. “More careful than you have been? Because you’ve been clearly mooning over the guy the entire time I’ve known you.”

Riza stared at her. “I…haven’t. We’re just….We’re just commanding officer and subordinate, who happen to have a history outside of the military. That’s all.”

Rebecca scoffed again. “Sure. Next time you look in a mirror, watch how your face changes when you’re thinking about him. It’s pretty obvious.”

Riza froze. Suddenly all of Bradley’s subtle taunts made sense.

Rebecca continued. “And maybe don’t tell him? Mustang doesn’t seem to be the type to exercise increased caution in a dangerous situation.”

Rebecca had a point with that one.

Chapter Text

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye sighed as she faced the hospital door. To tell him, or not to tell him? She wondered to herself, trying to get her tired brain to think of the pros and cons. She took a deep breath to re-focus and then opened the door and walked in.

Colonel Mustang turned his head as she walked in.

“Hello, sir.” He noticeably brightened when he heard her voice.

“Hello Lieutenant. How was your date?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her the way he’d done when they were teenagers.

Riza barely swallowed a sigh. “It was fine. How was your checkup with Dr. Marcoh? Did he give a date for when he thought he could restore your sight?”

“Yeah! Havoc should get here in the next few days. And he thinks that he could heal me on the same day that he heals him.”

“That is excellent news, sir.” She plopped down on her bed.

He turned toward her. “Are you sure everything is all right? You seem…stressed.”

“Ah….well. I just had a visit from Rebecca…and she said that people are doubting whether or not you were really on Bradley’s side during the fight.”

The Colonel frowned. “Hm… It appears some people are less intelligent than I gave them credit for. A strong counter-offensive should work. Some well-placed rumors, some solid reminders…” he continued on, clearly planning a bold retribution.

“Sir, I’m not sure that would work.” Riza cut in. “I think bolder strokes would just make people more suspicious, not less.”

The Colonel smiled at her. “What would you suggest?”

Riza shrugged, her heart beginning to beat a little bit fast. “I think you should lay low, for the moment, sir. Show that you’re still capable, even when you’re injured. These sort of things resolve the quickest when they’re ignored.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, as the Colonel internally fought the request. His shoulders slumped, and Riza felt a small easing of tension in victory.

“Very well, lieutenant.” He smiled at her again, as they both lapsed into awkward silence.

The Colonel leaned back on his pillows, propping his head up on his hand. “Did you hear the news, Lieutenant?”

“What news, sir?”

“To honor everyone who fought during the Promised Day, Fuhrer Grumman is holding a promotion banquet instead of just the regular ceremony. Should be quite the show. I’m looking forward to you dancing.”

Promotions and banquets and promotion banquets were not something she wanted to think about right now. “There’s going to be dancing?”

“Yup, after the dinner.”

Riza’s stomach dropped. Dancing flashed her back to little girl Riza. A little girl who was sweet and innocent, and who would have loved nothing more than to dance with - no. No, no. No dancing between her and the Colonel would be happening. It wasn’t against regulation but it would take her mind too far into other things.

She looked up at the Colonel, who looked at her with a goofy grin. “Say, I’m not sure I’ve ever actually seen you dance.”

“That’s because I don’t know how sir.” If it had been anyone but him, she would have changed the subject. With him, there was no point. Besides, better the Colonel tease her about her lack of dance skills, then continue to pry into the events of this evening.

He abruptly swung his feet off of his bed and stood. Is he trying to charm me into a better mood? Riza swung her feet off of the bed, and put her arms out, ready to help steady him. He smiled at her, a wide, goofy, teasing smile. Or at least, in her general direction. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to teach you then.”

“That’s not necessary, sir.”

“Lieutenant, you can’t show up to your own promotion banquet and not know how to dance…”

She sighed but stood up. “It’s hardly my promotion banquet, sir.”

His smile grew more sincere. “You know that I wouldn’t have gotten half as far without you.”

“Yes. Which reminds me: another stack of paperwork came in today. We need to go through it.” She pushed away the reminder that the military leadership knew that she was handling his paperwork for him.

He sighed. “That can wait. Come on.” He stepped to the side, away from their beds, his fingers trailing along the sheets to keep him oriented. His other hand beckoned her to follow him. She walked the narrow gap between their two beds until she was at the empty space between the foot of them. She looked around, scanning for anything that could trip the Colonel up. The team had actually cleaned up after themselves today - there was still a pile of books on Ishval, but they were neatly stacked in the corner, instead of scattered about the floor as they normally were. Breda must have taken pity on her, even though she’d scolded the whole unit for being slovenly earlier. She pushed down the little voice that reminded her that this was just adding fuel to Dent’s fire. She was tired. And she really did need to learn how to dance.

“Where do you want me, sir?” she asked. She fought not to show it, but her stomach was doing cartwheels and her fingers were tingling. Get over it, she snapped at herself. She hadn’t been this nervous when it was just her and the colonel since… well, it had been a while.

“Right in front of me, if you please,” the Colonel requested, still grinning.

What a pain he was. But he was her pain, so for once, she could go along with it. She stepped so that she was in front of him. “If your smile gets much bigger, sir, I think it’s going to split your face.”

His smile grew even bigger. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to teach you before that happens. Now, put your right hand on my shoulder.”

Riza’s neck flared in pain at the motion, and she took a sharp breath in. She fought down a hiss, and her nose crinkled.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt? I didn’t even think about your injury. You could probably just leave that arm down — “

“I’m fine, sir.” Regardless, he reached up to grab her hand, and she slid it down his arm before he could move it. It had been a while since she had noticed how… toned the Colonel was. Focus, Hawkeye. “And my other hand?”

“Is held in mine,” the Colonel said, every dumb flirty thing he did taking off the years of weariness and regrets to bring them back to when they fooled around like this in the home she had grown up in. With his right arm held up and his palm facing her, Riza did her best to copy the angle of his elbow and tried not to focus on how her hand was clasped tight in his. Or on the fact that his other hand had taken up residence on her back. She noticed that his hand on her back was warm and gentle, and it carefully avoided her scars.

“I think we’ll start with the waltz. You can take it slow, it doesn’t require much energy, and the basic step is easy to learn,” the Colonel continued. “Let’s see, for your part, on the first beat, you step back with your right foot, second beat you step to the left with your left. And the third, you move your right foot next to your left. Easy.”

It didn’t sound easy, but she trusted him.

“Ready? One, two, three, one, two, three.” His fingers tapped the beat on her hand. It was an impressive range of motion since he was still clearly holding the hand, and he had damaged palms. “Ready, set, go.”

Riza stepped clumsily back and to the side, and then she put her feet together. Her arms stretched awkwardly, as she struggled to stay close, but not too close to the Colonel.

“Step with me, and match my steps, Lieutenant. Just like marching.” Though he was correcting her, his voice remained kind and warm. “Let’s try that again.” Their second attempt went much better. “Now, the second part of this is the exact opposite. So, forward with your left, to the side with your right, and then your left foot meets the right. And then you’re ready to start over again.”

He counted her off, and they completed the next half of the step. “Excellent work, Lieutenant. I knew that you would be a fast learner.” The clear pride in his voice and face made her fight a blush for the first time in a very long time. “Now, let’s try that again.”

They repeated the same step over, and over and over again until Riza was sure that she could do it in her sleep. Which was good, because the sensation of his hand in hers, and his other hand on her back was incredibly distracting. Not to mention how close they were. She had seen couples dancing who were practically glued together, and she didn’t know how they did it. They only had a few inches between them, and it took all of her willpower to not just focus on the warmth of his body, how easy it would be to lean in just a little bit further, and just how nice he smelled - she so rarely got close to him these days. It reminded her of when he would help her cook in her father’s house, and would just stand right next to her, and she would stand there, hoping that his arm - nope. Not going there. Those were painful memories. Not as painful as Ishval, but painful all the same.

They stuck with the waltz, but eventually the Colonel branched out into some other steps - some turns, and some steps that only had them holding hands, not nearly so close together - she was disappointed in herself at how disappointed she was when that happened. They bumped into the walls and into their respective beds multiple times - a natural consequence of dancing in a smaller space, when one person was rather inexperienced and the other was rather blind.

“And finally,” the Colonel whispered in her ear, “the end.” He pulled his arm in front of his face, and Riza allowed him to guide her, as she had all evening. She ended up twirling out, away from him, with their hands still clasped. He bowed in her general direction. “Thank you for the dance, Lieutenant,” he said softly. Was that… longing in his voice? She shook herself out of her curiosity.

“Thank you for the lesson, sir.” She kept her hand in his so that she could help him to his bed. Or at least, that was the explanation she gave to herself. “Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Lieutenant,” The Colonel replied. After a moment, he tacked on, “Sweet dreams,” with a trace of irony in his voice. Both of their nightmares had been getting better, but they were still around. And they probably always would be. Riza laid down and tried not to fantasize about waltzing with the Colonel at the promotion banquet. She only mostly succeeded. But it kept her from reliving Dent’s blue eyes hungrily staring at her.

"Hey there, boss."

Colonel Roy Mustang's head shot up as he heard the door open and Havoc's voice come through. He didn't... he didn’t hear a wheelchair. Did that mean it worked? He hated that he couldn't see for himself if Havoc could walk yet. He could still picture Havoc being stabbed by Lust so easily… he wished he could have a picture of the man whole to replace it with.

"How are you, Havoc?"

"Oh, you know, my cranky old boss demanded that I come all the way to Central on a whim, after I did a massive favor for him. It's a lot of effort, but it's kind of nice to be around more ladies. Speaking of which, Lieutenant Hawyeke, your friend Catalina..."

"No," the Lieutenant's voice cut in firmly.

"Aw, come on, I think she always had a thing for me!"

"Rebecca isn't known for being subtle. If she has a thing for you, you'll know."

"But someone has got to get the ball rolling..."

Roy ground his teeth as he listened to his two subordinates— or rather, his current subordinate and former subordinate— bicker like they were in grade school and not decorated veterans. Under ordinary circumstances, he would be the first in line to tease Havoc about his love life - especially when he set his sights on the best friend of one Riza Hawkeye. However, the uncertainty of Marcoh’s success in healing Havoc was killing him. He knew that Havoc had been pulling his leg by deliberately avoiding the question, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could wait. Roy heaved a sign. Guess it was time to earn Fullmetal’s nickname.

Mustang cut into the conversation. "Havoc, you've always been a liability, dating-wise. First the smoking, and now the fact that you can't walk…" Yeah, that was a jerk move - Havoc was Havoc, regardless of the ability to walk and any intelligent woman would see that- but Mustang listened carefully for his reaction. Please, Please let it have worked.

Havoc's gasp was too dramatic to be genuine. "Boss, how could you? I was so traumatized defending you - "

"Dealing with your ex, you mean," Hawkeye cut in as Roy flinched. And there was the guilt. If Roy had just been better, if Roy hadn't done any number of things that had gone through his mind since that fight, Havoc might not have been paralyzed. The Lieutenant had known this, and thankfully had cut in.

Evidently, Havoc had noticed Roy flinching at it, because he switched from his teasing tone of voice. "Yeah, well, that's irrelevant now, because…" and then Roy heard the sound of feet landing on the ground with a thump as Havoc jumped up and down, demonstrating that he was healed.

Roy felt relief flood through his body. Havoc is okay. He's whole again, he’s okay. He just hated that he wasn't the one to fix it himself, that he wasn't able to fulfill his responsibility of protecting a member of his own team. He jabbed back, "Yeah, Havoc? Still think you're faster than me?"

"Come on, I know that I am faster than you. I'm just too charitable to challenge a blind man to a race." Roy could almost hear the smug smile on Havoc’s face. Normally he’d search for the nearest way to wipe it off, but right now, he was just happy that his horrible mistakes had been at least partially rectified.

"Well, that will shortly be remedied." Marcoh's voice came from the doorway, which, based on the sounds of it, Havoc had never closed.

"Are you ready for the Colonel, Doctor?" The Lieutenant spoke.

"Yes, Nurse Downs will assist the Colonel to the treatment room."

It was time, then. Roy felt a tightening in his gut, and he could feel his pulse speed up. Odd, he hadn't been nervous.. since they set out on the Promised Day. He had been so excited to be able to see again, but that he didn't feel nervous as well. What if it didn't work? But it had worked for Havoc, it had to work for him. Marcoh had healed a whole town of people with the Philosopher's Stone, and he had heard that the Elrics had consulted with the Doctor as well. He was sure that if he asked Fullmetal, Fullmetal would make some excuse about not wanting him to be even more useless than he already was. But it was obvious that Fullmetal was concerned. Hopefully it wasn't traumatizing for the kid to work with a Philosopher's Stone, being so repulsed by the its cost. Speaking of costs... his mind again flashed back to the last time that he had seen Lieutenant Hawkeye, her face pale, supported by one of the Chimeras, barely holding on to life.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Colonel?"

"I was wondering… I was wondering if Lieutenant Hawkeye could assist me instead of Nurse Downs. The Lieutenant is much more familiar with me, after all, and she's been doing most of the work to help me out these last few weeks. The procedure may be complicated for me to do, and I think I would like her assistance." Roy didn't like admitting that he needed assistance, but hey, if that meant that his - not his, THE Lieutenant could be the first thing that he could see, it would be worth it.

There was a pause, as Marcoh thought through it. "Nurse Downs, I would still like you to be on hand to assist, as Lieutenant Hawkeye is also still recovering, but if she is willing to come, I think we can allow that."

Roy heard the covers rustling as Lieutenant Hawkeye began to move off of her bed. He tried not to smile too broadly. "Thank you, Doctor. Lieutenant, I think it would be best if you moved to the space between our two beds. And then maybe I could offer you the pleasure of my arm?" he finished in a flirty tone.

He couldn't see her dry look, but he could feel it. "How kind of you, sir, to volunteer me to physically escort you."

"I am nothing, but a gentleman, Lieutenant."

After some doing, they got situated. Lieutenant Hawkeye's arm didn't feel as firm as it should be as it wrapped around Roy's. Fortunately, his arm was the one that was underneath. He just needed her to guide him. They slowly walked out the door.

"Havoc, take a seat until we get back," Roy instructed, turning back to his former subordinate.

"Yes sir." He could feel the smirk that Havoc gave him. Roy turned back to face the hallway.

"If you'll just follow me to the elevator," Marcoh's voice instructed from ahead of them. Roy let the Lieutenant guide him down the hallway, and adjusted his steps to meet her slower ones. He hadn't had to consciously adjust his pace to meet hers in a long time - it was proof that she was still recovering, he guessed. As it had often done, worry for her bubbled up in his chest, and as he had every day since he learned she had followed him to the military, he stomped it back into the little box in the back of his head where it belonged.

They got in the elevator and then got back out again after a brief moment. Roy's heartbeat, already high, began to spike even higher. He knew that he was probably (maybe, possibly) capable of becoming Fuhrer as a blind man, but it would be so much harder—assuming that he wasn’t discharged from the military due to being injured in the line of duty. Which he probably would be: the Lieutenant had to do so many things for him that it likely wasn't worth keeping him around. His life’s work, the fate of the country, everything rested on Marcoh's ability to heal him. On the Philosopher's Stone still having enough power to heal him. And there was nothing he could do about it. He could ask to see the alchemy arrays that Marcoh was planning on using, but he would have to have Lieutenant Hawkeye describe them to him, and although she was very familiar with alchemy, she still had never done it herself and could miss something important. No, he didn't have a choice but to trust that Marcoh and the Elrics had written it correctly. He knew that the Elrics knew their stuff, but still. Roy felt another door open.

"If you could just sit here, Colonel," Marcoh's voice instructed. He let the Lieutenant guide him to the appropriate place.

“Sit here,” she instructed, and he put out his hand to feel a cushion. He took a deep breath as he sat down.

“Anything else you want me to do, Doctor?”

“No, Colonel, you just sit still. Lieutenant, will you stand over here?”

Roy felt the Lieutenant move away from him. He was always just a little bit nervous whenever she was too far from his side. He told himself that it was just because he relied on her so heavily, but he knew it was also because it was reassuring to have her there, and to know that she was safe. He tried to clamp a lid on his rising fear as he waited for the doctor to begin.

Like a flash-bang grenade without the bang, a bright light filled his vision and left dancing stars. Wait… light? He blinked his eyes slowly. The room was dim, and there were two dark shapes. He blinked again as the shapes slowly came into focus. One stepped to the side and began examining the side of his head. The other stepped to be directly in front of him and then stepped closer. The shape in the center took on a familiar form as he recognized…

”Lieutenant Hawkeye, is that you?”

“Colonel!” She exclaimed. She was here and she was safe and she was here and she was safe and she was here and she was safe…. His hands ached to reach out and grab onto her, to make sure in the only way he knew how these days, but he curled them into his pants instead. He saw that her hair was down, and as his vision grew clearer, he noticed her eyes were shiny. And… her cheek?

Roy let out a wet laugh that turned into a cough. “Lieutenant, you aren’t crying over me again, are you?”

She sniffed. “Of course not sir. I know how useless you are around water.” The creases around her eyes as she gave him a watery smile, the way her hair fell around her cheeks, the redness in her nose—as his vision grew sharper, he drank it all in like she was an oasis and he was a parched, lost traveler. She had always been his oasis.

Of course, she couldn’t know that, so he just smiled at the old joke. “Shame that I don’t get to see the softer side of you more often.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, sir.”

He continued to smile at her, at the woman he loved more than life itself. “I intend to.”

Chapter Text

Roy Mustang bothered General Olivier Mira Armstrong on principle. Or rather, men like him bothered Olivier on principle. They were constantly flirting with her, telling her how beautiful she was, and yet being so incredibly patronizing all in the same breath. Her family fortune was also a large, unspoken presence in those interactions. Had she been so lazy and flirty, she would never have made Sergeant. But that was the way of the male-dominated Amestrian military. She couldn't wait to get back to Briggs, where the troops respected her leadership regardless of her gender. She had forgotten how much she hated the politics in Central.

People need to stop talking about getting stuff done, and actually get stuff done, she thought in the umpteenth meeting she had to sit through since the Promised Day. This one was about...blankets? All of these meetings were beginning to blend together, with all the same people saying all the same things. First, there was the "what's the official story?" meeting where nothing had quite gotten decided--- besides, of course, deciding that they couldn't let the public know that the former Fuhrer was a homunculus. And that their side had to be portrayed as on his side and therefore as the rightful runners of the country. She was still miffed at Mustang's team for so casually throwing her men to the public's bad opinion when the Fuhrer showed up, but she guessed it couldn't be helped. Her forgiveness did not extend to the man himself, however.

Was he… doodling? In the middle of a military meeting? Ignoring her own lack of focus, Olivier craned her neck to see just what he was writing on his paper.

"Curious, General?" Mustang said, grinning up at her like he was twelve and not a ranked officer.

"You should be paying attention," Olivier said, steel in her breath.

Any one of the men from the north would have known that tone meant business. Mustang just chuckled.

"Hawkeye's not here to babysit for you, you know", she reminded him, her annoyance growing. "You would think that after this long, you would be capable of functioning at least decently without her".

"What is that supposed to mean?" he said, suddenly defensive.

Olivier folded her arms. "She's quite a capable officer. She could be a lot farther if she wasn't saddled with a commanding officer like you."

Anger filled Mustang's eyes and his hands clenched. He opened his mouth to give what was probably a very sharp retort when -

"Don't you agree, Mustang?" Grumman's voice broke into Olivier's focus.

Mustang's facial features suddenly shifted. "Absolutely, sir. I'll put my team on patrolling the textile district right away for these miscreants".

Olivier sat back. Maybe there was something behind Miles' theory that Mustang and Hawkeye were more than commanding officer and subordinate. She had to hand it to him, that man missed nothing.

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye took a deep breath.
She had worked with General Armstrong before. But…it had been a while. And she has spent most of the time coordinating training exercises or keeping the General from slicing her commanding officer in two. She usually tried to keep out of her way the best she could, but now…now there was no helping it. She took another deep breath, and knocked on her office door.
------------------------
General Olivier Mira Armstrong looked up from the paperwork that she and the Fuhrer were hunched over. Was that…a knock? All of her people knew not to bother her, and she didn’t think the Fuhrer’s people were aware of where he was….
“Come in,” she commanded. The door pushed open to reveal…Lieutenant Hawkeye. Mustang’s Adjutant? Olivier wondered to herself.
“General Armstrong, Do you have a moment?” She began, and then froze when she saw Grumman.
“What’s wrong, Riza?” Grumman addressed her fondly. Riza? Why is Grumman calling Hawkeye by her first name?
Seeing Olivier’s confused look that was quickly turning into a glare, Hawkeye sighed. “The Fuhrer is my grandfather. I’ve been trying to keep it quiet – don’t want to be accused of nepotism.”
Made sense. By all accounts, Hawkeye was a competent officer. It would be a shame if that was overlooked because of who her family was. As Olivier well knew.
“I see that you’re currently busy, General, I’ll come back another time.”
“Stay. Grumman was just getting to the part where he blabs on for ages, and wastes my time. This is a great way to get rid of him.”
Grumman turned to Olivier with a frown. “I do not blab-“
Olivier ignored him. “Sit down, Lieutenant. What brings you here?”
Hawkeye sat down gently, her eyes still on Grumman. “I was looking for some information from you, but I’m not sure it’s something the Fuhrer needs to concern himself with.”
Grumman glared at her. “When it comes to my granddaughter, who is still not fully healed from a major battle, then yes, the Fuhrer does need to concern himself.”
Hawkeye’s face twisted briefly and then resolved again. Whatever it was, she did NOT want him involved. But Grumman wasn’t giving her a choice. Olivier was now curious as to what it was.
“What information did you need?”
“You had a soldier at Briggs a few years ago – a warrant officer I believe – By the name of Flagstaff. Her first name was Sarah, do you remember her?”
A pale face flashed into Olivier’s mind. Pale, scared. But a mouth set in a firm line, determined to do what needed to be done until it broke her.
“I remember her. She left the military after about six months at Briggs.” That was all Olivier was going to choose to say, and she was trusting Hawkeye with just that much.
“Do you know where she went after she left the military?” Hawkeye asked gently, seeming to sense that it was a sore topic.
“Why do you want to know?” Olivier pushed back.
Hawkeye studied Olivier for a moment. “I think I know why she may have left the military.”
Olivier raised her eyebrows. “I KNOW why the woman left the military. And I don’t see the need to share her current whereabouts.”
“Even if it means risking letting the man who hurt her go free?”
Hawkeye is going after Dent? But why? Why now? Dent was a slimy creature, and had wiggled out of every trap Olivier had tried to set. She wasn’t sure that Hawkeye had the pull to create a more fool-proof one.
“You’re really going after him? Why?”
Hawkeye’s face was a careful mask. Based on the brief conversation, and on rumors, Hawkeye generally showed little emotion but this was now…a deliberate lack of emotion. She glanced at Grumman, who was looking at both of them with a confused look, clearly not comprehending what they were alluding to.
A brief moment passed. Olivier gave Hawkeye her sternest tell me glare for several moments. Then Hawkeye finally caved. “I’m his latest…project”
Olivier’s eyes widened. The woman was surprisingly calm about the whole thing. “Do you know what he’s capable of?”
“I know that Flagstaff is not the only member of the military that has left after his interest. And I think it’s time something is done about that.”
“Dent is very careful.”
“So am I.”
“Does Mustang know about this?”
Hawkeye rolled her eyes. “The Colonel is currently treating me like I’m made out of glass, because I lost a bit of blood on the Promised Day. So, no, I’m not going to bother him with this. Besides, he’s behind enough as it is.”
Olivier felt her eyebrows shoot up. Hawkeye was more cunning than she originally gave her credit for. And Mustang was still about as stupid as she always knew he was.
Grumman finally appeared to have found his vocal cords. “Dent…the up and coming…Lieutenant, was it?”
“He’s a Captain now, he’s very proud of it.” Hawkeye said dryly.
So focused on his rank…sign of an officer whose head is in the wrong places. Olivier noted to herself.
“So, you want to talk to Flagstaff, see if she can give you anything?” Olivier summarized.
“Pretty much. She’s not the only one, so I’ve been trying to charm out of him who all of his victims are..and who his next potential victims are. With his attention on me for the current moment, that should prevent him from going after anyone else.”
“Dent doesn’t stop, I don’t think you realize that. He will do anything to bend you, and everyone around you to his will.”
Hawkeye raised her eyebrows again. “My team knows better than to contradict me. And I’ve ordered them to not do anything here.”
Olivier snorted. Does she know Mustang at all? “Something tells me that Mustang isn’t going to take that easily.”
Hawkeye gave Olivier a dead stare. “My job is to keep Mustang in line, and I will.” She then turned to Grumman. “And I expect that you won’t interfere either, understand? Until I have enough evidence for the court martial. The more people get in on this, the more that Dent’s going to figure out what I’m up to. He’s already mentioned to me several times that he has ways of making himself and others disappear. If he gets spooked now, he’ll call off, and more officers will get hurt.”
“I don’t like this” Grumman gave Riza a hard stare.
Riza glared at him. “You don’t have to like it. It’s what I’m going to do.”
“I’m the Fuhrer. I can order you to cease and desist.”
“What I do in my personal time is my business.”
“Not if it gets you killed,” Grumman said, more gently now.
Riza’s face grew harder. “I’ll be fine, Sir.”
Grumman sighed, and turned to Olivier “General Armstrong, do you think you’ll be able to help her out on this? Since she has explicitly forbidden me from interfering?”
Olivier turned to Hawkeye. “I’ll get in contact with Flagstaff, see what she's willing to say. She’s already told me a lot – If she’s not willing to testify at the Court Martial, I will. And I can do some more investigating on my end as well.”
Hawkeye gave a slight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I would appreciate that, General Armstrong. I’ve got a list of victims, and it’s taking me longer than I anticipated to track them down.”
“Dent giving you trouble?”
“More like he’s…persistent. And I don’t want to keep him too close, but if I push him away, he’ll cause more trouble.
“Sounds like quite the dance.”
Hawkeye smiled wryly as she stood. “Good thing I’ve got a good dance instructor. I’ll meet up with you in about a week to discuss our findings, General Armstrong.” She bowed to both of them, and began to walk towards the door.
“And I’ll ask you about it next tea!” Grumman called after her, grinning. Then his face grew more somber. “And I won’t approve any more promotions for Dent until I hear that you’ve concluded your investigation.” She turned around, and gave a half bow, before walking out the door.
Hawkeye’s a good officer. Shame she’s wasted with Mustang. Olivier noted to herself.

Chapter Text

Colonel Roy Mustang sighed as he walked into work. It was their first day back. He had managed to finagle it so that his team was all back together.Olivier Armstrong had squawked when he stole Falman from her, and he’d relished it more than he cared to admit, though it may be difficult to get him transferred back to Central. But that was tomorrow’s problem. Today’s problem was setting up their offices. Things had gotten crazy at Central, with most of their buildings being demolished on the Promised Day and the entire military showing up to help clean up the mess. Fortunately, Roy had been able to get his team an office space that was… mostly put together. The workmen were still putting on the finishing touches. Just little things, like, you know, half of the exterior wall.

Roy also tried not to sigh at the amount of paperwork he knew was waiting for him. The Lieutenant had managed to churn through a fair bit of it while they had been in the hospital - oh, he hoped he wouldn’t have to remember anything on the paperwork. She had read it to him out loud, and it had been so nice to hear her voice… he shook his head, forcing himself into focus.

Stopping short, he realized there was a voice he didn’t recognize coming out of the open door that he could have sworn was for his team’s office. He double-checked the assignment paper, and, seeing that it was correct, walked in.

His team was already sitting at their desks, heads buried in work. Or rather, Breda, Fuery, Havoc and Falman were all clearly pretending to work, while they not-at-all-subtly eavesdropped on what was happening at Lieutenant Hawkeye’s desk. Roy would have turned to Havoc to get the other officers under control, but Havoc wasn’t technically in the military anymore and was helping them temporarily as a civilian contractor, giving him no actual authority. It fell to Roy, then, to deal with whatever was going on here.

Roy approached the Lieutenant’s desk. Her head was down, and she seemed intently focused on her paperwork. That would have served as a giant DO NOT DISTURB, AND GET YOUR OWN WORK DONE BEFORE I SHOOT YOU sign to the rest of the team, but the man standing there was undeterred. He was a conventional sort of attractive, Roy supposed, dressed in a captain’s uniform, with fair hair cut just a little bit long for military regulations, blue eyes, and a charming smile. A smile that was currently doing its best to charm Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye.

He knew he had no right to feel this way, but something in the pit of his stomach ignited when he saw that.

“And after the boat ride, I was thinking we could cuddle around a campfire,” the man continued. Roy snorted. Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye hated campfires. And she didn’t love boats, either, especially if they were being used for nonessential purposes. The man turned at Roy’s snort. “Who are you?” he asked, clearly not taking in Roy’s rank insignia.

“Colonel Roy Mustang, State Alchemist. And what are you doing in my office?” The phrasing may have been somewhat polite, but the politeness didn’t transfer to his tone.

“Captain Harold Dent, from the Western sector. The Lieutenant and I are rather close from our time at the academy, so I came by to say hello since I’m in town.” Roy didn’t like his tone, but it was subtle enough that he couldn’t press it.

Roy was instantly annoyed. The Lieutenant had never mentioned this guy. “My apologies, Captain, but we are working with some classified material. No one outside of our team will be allowed in our offices, so I will have to ask you to leave.”

“Oh come on, we’re all on the same team, Mustang. I’m sure that I could be very helpful…”

“My team is more than capable, Captain. And the correct form of address is COLONEL Mustang.” Roy tried to remain on good terms with members of the military as much as he could, but the guy was getting on his nerves.

The man sighed, and then turned to Lieutenant Hawkeye. “I guess I have no choice but to leave. I’ll see you soon, Riza.” Roy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. NO ONE called her by her first name. Roy wanted this man out of his office, and he wanted him out NOW. He walked over to the door and held it open, the invitation clear.

Dent took his time, walking across the door, and waved to the Lieutenant as he walked out. The Lieutenant’s eyes barely glanced from her work. Roy shut the door behind him.

“That was a little harsh, sir” Hawkeye gently corrected. Conscious of my image, as always. Roy groused. “I would appreciate it if you let me handle him in the future.”

“I’m assuming the desk at the center is for me?” Roy asked, skating over the reprimand and the request that was going to be ignored.

Havoc grinned at him. “The one with all the paperwork? All yours, boss!”

Roy sighed as he walked to his desk. There was always a lot for the state alchemists to do. Especially since the Fullmetal Alchemist was, well...no longer an alchemist.

Roy Mustang looked around the mess, for the bright head of perfect hair.
“Where is he, where is he?” he muttered to himself. He had sent Hawkeye out on an errand – she wouldn’t be back until mid-afternoon at the earliest. Which meant he had plenty of time to, ahem, talk to Dent.
He narrowed in on the guy, laughing with a bunch of guys from the western sector. Was it just Roy, or did the women in the group look…more on edge? Fortunately, Dent wouldn’t be in that group much longer.
“Dent, I need to speak to you.” Roy put as much force as he could into the words, trying to emphasize that this was a command.
Dent turned around. “Hey Mustang. I’m a bit busy at the moment, maybe you could come back later.” A couple of people at the table widened their eyes at the insubordination.
“No, we’re talking now.”
Dent shrugged, and grabbed his tray, saying farewell to his friends as Roy tried to not show his impatience… or he may have let a little bit of it show. He grabbed Dent’s arm, and escorted him out of the mess, and into an empty room nearby.
Dent turned to him with a smirk. “So, how may I assist the mighty Flame Alchemist today?”
“What are you doing to Lieutenant Hawkeye?” Roy tried to keep his voice level.
“Why do you need to know?” Dent said, with his eyes raised.
“Because you’re harassing her, and you are going to stop.”
Dent chuckled. “Oh, is someone jealous? Face it, Hawkeye enjoys my attention to her. She knows that I am really stooping down to show interest in her.”
Punching him in the face will not give you any helpful information, Mustang. Roy reminded himself.
“It has nothing to do with my interest – you’re annoying her, and it is my job as her commanding officer to take care of it.”
“Oh come on, she shows so little emotion – how well do you know her feelings? really?”
“I know her better than you think. And I can tell she doesn’t want your attention, so as a superior officer, I’m ordering you to leave her alone.”
Dent smirked again. “Ah yes. The idyllic days of your alchemy training. I’m sure that you were thrilled to find such a pretty girl at your teacher’s home – learning alchemy from him, and then teaching her more about the world. Is that why you keep her around? It certainly can’t be because of her looks.”
Roy’s fist went out before he even stopped it, and he barely heard the crack it made as it connected with Dent’s nose. The man still managed to smirk, as he cupped his bleeding nose in one hand.
“You’ll regret that, Mustang. You just assaulted an officer of the military, with no reasonable cause.”
“I had plenty of reasons.”
“Reason…that only you will be able to say. There are no witnesses in here Mustang – it’s just your word versus mine. And the words of my entire table of friends, saying that you were angry with me, as you dragged me away for a private meeting. A meeting that you came out untouched, and I came out bloodied. ”
Roy began to have a sinking feeling that maybe he should at least have told someone on his squad to sit outside the door. Granted, then it would have turned into multiple members of his squad punching Dent – not the best look. Or maybe, I should have just listened to Hawkeye chimed a voice in his head. That voice often sounded like the Lieutenant. Roy only listened to it…sometimes.
Meanwhile, Dent continued. “THAT wouldn’t look good on the next promotion board, now would it. Just little chat with the right person - and I could ruin you very easily. Just think - in a little bit of time, you could be calling me Sir.”
“Why would I be calling you Sir?” Mustang stated flatly, trying not to show his…regret wasn’t the right word for what he was feeling. He didn’t regret punching the man. He just regretted not thinking it through all the way.
Dent looked at him with determined eyes. “you’re not the only quick climber around here, Mustang. I intend to become Fuhrer, and I intend to stop anyone who is in my way.”
Mustang raised his eyes. “And yet, I still outrank you. Odds are, I’ll get there first.”
Dent smiled. “Not if you get kicked out of the military for assaulting a fellow soldier without cause. AND there’s always Hawkeye.”
Roy’s heart rate picked up, he fought to keep his voice calm. “What about her?”
Dent tilted his head. “I am in a position to make her life in the military absolutely miserable. How far would you really get without your precious adjutant?”
Roy’s eyes narrowed. “Her life is already miserable, thanks to you.”
Dent smiled. “I don’t know what you are talking about. She should be flattered by the attention I’m showing her. It’s not like there are scores of men lining up for her. Plus, I like to keep the helpful toys close.”
Roy consciously fought his instinct to curl his hand into a fist again. Better not make it easier to give into temptation and hit him again.
Roy opened his mouth to speak, and then the door to the room opened. Dent and Roy both turned around to find Lieutenant Hawkeye standing there, her eyes glaring daggers at him.
“RIZA!” Dent exclaimed “Can you BELIEVE that your superior officer just punched me TOTALLY out of the blue? Perhaps it would be better if you spent the afternoon with me.”
The Lieutenant turned her glare to Dent. “I believe that my time would be better spent resolving the incident with my superior officer.” She bowed. “You have my apologies, Captain Dent. I’ll see you this evening.”
Dent turned and flashed Roy a victorious smile before walking towards the doorway. He leaned in to kiss the Lieutenant on the cheek, but she stepped away. “Until then, Riza.” The extra emphasis on her first name was another taunt, but Roy knew that with the Lieutenant there, he had to let it slide. Dent’s footsteps grew softer in the distance.
The Lieutenant was still glaring at him as she walked further into the room.
“I-“
“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Sir.” The Lieutenant’s voice shook with rage, and he knew that only the mess full of fellow soldiers a couple feet away kept her from shouting at him.
“I am your commanding officer, Lieutenant. It is my job to look after you.”
The Lieutenant’s glare grew icy. “And I believe I TOLD you I would handle it.”
“After everything you’ve been through these last couple of months, you seriously think that I am just going to let him leech all over you??”
“At this point, Sir, any interference from you will only result in more rumors. Dent knows how to play military gossip well. You’ve already got unwanted rumors surrounding you. Any more, and both of our careers will be ruined, and we never end up in the same sector together, let alone stay as Officer and Adjutant.”
“So you just want me to sit back and do nothing?” Roy asked bitterly.
The Lieutenant looked at him with compassion in her eyes. “I have a plan for dealing with him, and I’m not alone. And I promise as soon as the time is right, that you will be brought in. Do you trust me, Sir?”
Roy’s throat grew uncomfortably tight. “With my life.”
The Lieutenant smiled softly. “Then trust me with mine.” She turned to go out the door. At the doorway she paused. “Coming Sir? We have a lot of work to do.”
Roy began walking towards her. “Of course, Lieutenant.”
I’m going to have to be a lot sneakier in the future.

Chapter Text

“You seem pensive tonight Riza. What’s wrong?” Dent turned to her, his face a mask of concern. He didn’t actually care as Riza knew by now. But he played the role well.
“Just some work stuff, it’s nothing.”
“Is Mustang working you too hard again?? I’d say, if you were MY adjutant, you wouldn’t have a care in the world!! But I don’t understand why you brought him up again.”
But you were the one who brought him up? Riza wondered to herself. She had learned quickly that pushing back only served to get her on Dent’s bad side, so she didn’t bother. The happier he was, the more compliant he was, and the quicker she could get this semi-independent investigation over with.
Speaking of the Colonel, Riza could have sworn she saw him duck behind a nearby tree out of the corner of her eye. Dent had started babbling on and on about all the ways he was superior to Roy Mustang, and how he would outrank him soon. Riza craned her neck trying to get another look. She heard a crack behind her, and saw Falman ducking into a bush. Has he gotten the ENTIRE squad here? I told him only SIX HOURS ago to let me handle it!!
“Don’t you agree, Riza?”
Riza’s attention snapped back to Dent. He was looking at her, eyebrows raised. She wasn’t sure if he actually wanted her opinion or if he just wanted to trap her in something because he knew that she hadn’t been paying attention. Her experience with him so far indicated that the second was far more likely.
“My apologies, I thought I heard something. What did you say?”
Dent gave her what was meant to be a charming grin. It mostly just made Riza want to follow in the Colonel’s footsteps and punch him in the face. Riza took a deep breath, and then another. She was positive that her squad only needed the slighted indication that she was in distress in order to jump Dent. But she still hadn’t gotten what she needed from him. She really, really wished that the Colonel wasn’t here – knowing that he was just a few feet away was a distraction. But she had to protect him and had to help him climb. And that meant taking the man in front of her down. WITHOUT risking the Colonel’s standing in the process. Riza was back in the balancing act – even more than she had been at the Bradleys. Back then, she was a hostage, plain and simple. She kept herself out of trouble, and passed on useful information when she could. But now…being both a target and an informant, and the strategist. Thank goodness that General Armstrong had agreed to help – it was nice to not be alone.
“Really Riza, you are out of it today. Are you sure you’re feeling well?” Dent’s voice broke into her thought process again. Riza saw her opening.
“Truthfully, my neighbor has been keeping me up – They've been playing very loud music, and having lots of people over until the wee hours of the morning. Hayate doesn’t like it, so he’s been barking at the ceiling all night as well. It’s been rather difficult to sleep.”
Dent’s face instantly became a mask of concern. How do I play this? Riza wondered to herself. But she had mastered hidden meanings a long time ago. “Poor Elizabeth has some unwanted hangers-on at the moment. But I talked to her today and she says once she gets what she wants from them, they’ll be gone. So I just have to put up with them until then.”
Dent’s expression immediately turned to sympathy. “Oh, how generous of you to think of the well-being of your friend, But I say, I couldn’t possibly allow it to affect you like this – I’ll go to your neighbor myself, and tell her that I will fix everything, not to fear! I can’t possibly have it affecting you like this!”
Riza did her best not to sigh. She hoped that the team at least got her subtle message – not that they had fulfilled her request when the message hadn’t been subtle, but it was worth a shot.
“No really, she’s fine.”
Dent turned to her with arched eyebrows. “Oh, but I insist.”
Riza kept her voice calm. “Your interfering will only make the situation worse. This is not the place for a military officer. If it had been, I would have already done something.”
Dent patted her shoulder as if he was trying to soothe a child. “I know that you think that what you’re doing is best, but you don’t understand, I really do need to interfere here. I promise to keep you out of it, though.”
Riza stepped away. “No, if you interfere, rumors will spread, and it will jeopardize any hope of a career you have. I need you to not be overprotective and let me handle this myself.”
Dent frowned at her. “I thought you said Elizabeth asked to handle this herself?”
Riza only froze for a split second. “Elizabeth has requested to be allowed to handle this herself and I am uniquely situated to monitor the situation very closely. The moment that she is in too deep, Elizabeth will ask for assistance, and I know that she will have people to pull her out. But currently, it is best if Elizabeth works alone.”
Dent snorted. “it appears you value Elizabeth’s capabilities quite highly.”
Riza fought down the flash of rage those words evoked. He doesn’t realize he’s insulting YOU. “She is quite capable, even if those around her don’t recognize it. She has been through a lot, and can handle a lot.”
“Still, I think you ought to let me handle it. You don’t always know what you’re getting into. Was this your upstairs neighbor, you said?” Dent asked, condescension oozing from his tone.
Riza chose not to reply. She rather hoped he would try to check on her upstairs neighbor – her upstairs neighbor was almost as large as Major Armstrong and had a Xingese martial arts hobby. Furthermore, the man’s pride was almost as easily damaged as Edward Elric’s – a very unfortunate combination. They finished the rest of their walk in silence.
“See you,” Riza said softly, as she walked away.
Riza usually didn’t waste time planning when they would see each other again. Dent made himself a nuisance often enough to have something on the calendar for her to dread. She could hear Dent calling his goodbye after her – something flowery and romantic and meaningless.
The Colonel BETTER pick up my call, or the entire team is DEAD tomorrow.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Colonel Roy Mustang stopped short as he walked into the office. What the.....

Sitting on Lieutenant Hawkeye's desk was a large bouquet of flowers. Roses to be exact. White and red, in an enormously ridiculous bouquet, situated in an intricate glass vase. He raced over and picked up the card.

"To the most beautiful woman in Amestris. May your day be as gorgeous as you are". The note was signed "Your Harold."

Flowers in the office? Things must be getting serious. Granted, the guy had been calling her at all hours of the day and sending her MULTIPLE notes throughout the day. Mustang had no idea that Western Command needed the assistance of the Lieutenant so badly, and that golden-boy Captain Dent HAD to be the one to talk to her. Oddly enough, Hawkeye hadn't been acting that odd. Mustang would expect her to spend less time at work than usual, but she....well, she was working more hours than him, which wasn't unusual, but she was working almost twice as much as him, which was. And EVERYTHING was nitpicked to the extreme. She had made Breda burst into tears over a mistake in punctuation in one of his reports that she had sent back six times. The Lieutenant was good at her job - that was why she was his right hand, after all, but this was extreme. He forced himself to place the note back on her desk and walk over to his own.

Lieutenant Hawkeye finally arrived at work, half an hour late. Roy raised his eyes at her. "You're late this morning, Lieutenant". Now that he thought about it, she was never on time anymore. Either she was the first one in the office by at least an hour, or she was at least twenty minutes late, far beyond the time that most superiors would let slide. Fortunately for her, Roy wasn't most superiors.

"My apologies, sir," she said cooly and then turned to her desk. He watched her profile go white and her fist clench.

"Everything alright, Lieutenant?"

"Everything is fine, sir".

"Quite the bouquet you've got there", he said with a teasing smile.

She was silent for a moment, as she walked over to her desk, and read the note. Her jaw clenched, and her fingers gripped the note until it crumbled. Odd behavior, for a love note. The lieutenant paused, as she stared off into space. Roy watched her carefully. He was growing concerned about Dent's attention to her, or rather, her reaction to his attention. Something didn't seem....right.

"Sir, may I ask you a favor?"

Fuery and Breda, who Roy was sure were already listening in to this exchange, swiveled their heads to look at the Lieutenant.

"Of course"

She grabbed the note and the flowers, jammed the note inside the pot, walked over to his desk, and slammed them in front of him.

"Burn these," she said firmly. Roy looked at her face carefully. Something was DEFINITELY wrong here. The Lieutenant always had kept her emotions close, especially once she had joined the military, but now it looked like that control was beginning to slip. He considered her face carefully. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes were hard, and her mouth was in a firm line. Anyone on their team knew that expression meant that you had been messing up for far too long, and her patience was running thin. His team knew better than to get her to that point. Dent, apparently, did not.

Roy considered the room. The flowers would burn, but if he burned them too quickly in the glass vase, there would be an explosion of shards, which would be dangerous to anyone in the room. If he burned them too slowly, the room would be filled with smoke. They could open the doors and windows but that wouldn't prevent....his eyes stopped on the window. He walked over and opened it. He peered out. They were on the second story, and the grass outside the window was completely clear. Perfect. He turned back to the Lieutenant.

"I'll burn them if you do the honors of throwing them" he stated, gesturing out the window. He waited for her to walk towards him.

The Lieutenant gave a grim smile, and threw the pot from his desk and out the window. Roy was surprised enough at the multi-foot throw that he almost didn't react in time to burn them once they were out the window. He clapped, and the vase exploded with a pleasant crack and the flowers went up in a puff of smoke.

"Satisfied, Lieutenant?" He said, turning back to her.

"Very much, sir. I will begin my work now" she said crisply, as she turned to her desk.

Roy closed the window, as his heartbeat began to slow. Glad that the one throwing the flowers had such good aim, he thought to himself as he shut it. If anyone else in his team had attempted to throw the flowers from his desk, across the room, and out the window, it would not have been good. However, such a shot was easy for one Riza Hawkeye. Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. He reminded himself. He walked back over to his desk and sat down, still watching her. Something is definitely not right here.....

It was only later that he noticed the note on HIS desk. “You should have been more careful. Interfere, and your career in the military is over.” It was unsigned, but the sender’s identity was clear.

Chapter Text

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye took a deep breath. She knew that look. She cursed Dent again in her head. The super showy flowers were definitely NOT what she needed. Especially since the Colonel now knew something wasn't right....she cursed again. It was only a matter of time before the man started thinking that he had to interfere. Had to step in and protect her, defend her against all ills. She had always appreciated that about him - his care for others, and his desire to protect all those he cared about. And she would be lying if her stomach didn’t wriggle at least a little bit about how much he clearly cared about her. But now...he was seriously jeopardizing the mission. But how to stop him? The man was arguably the most determined individual Riza had ever met. Riza sighed. She hoped he would listen to her – for once.
She approached his desk. “Colonel, I’d like to speak with you.”
His head snapped up. “Of course, Lieutenant. Would you like to step out?” His tone was deceptively calm, as if he hadn’t been dying for her to say those words all day. She knew better.
“That’s not necessary sir, I think the other men need to hear it too.”
Mustang stood. “You all heard her.” He stated, addressing Falman, Fuery, Breda and Havoc.
They all walked over, failing to disguise their interest.
Riza took a deep breath. “I’m sure you’ve all noticed Captain Dent’s attention toward me. I’m asking you not to interfere in any way, shape, or form. This is a delicate matter, and it will be settled between the two of us.”
“But—” The Colonel began to interrupt. Riza glared him into silence.
“Our relationship is classified, sir. I know what my limits are. And I know who Dent is. Better than anyone else in this room. If I need your assistance, I shall ask. Until then, I beg all of you, if you respect my abilities at all, please let me handle this.” She continued to glare at the Colonel. He wilted.
“Lieutenant, I – “
“SIR” she began sternly, and then softened. “Please. I can handle this.”
The Colonel nodded, in a rare sign of defeat. “Okay, Lieutenant. We’ll do things your way.”

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye stretched. Sitting for nine hours at a time to do paperwork was not her idea of fun, no matter what the rest of her team thought. She was concerned about running into Captain Dent if she went to the mess, so she had elected to stay at her desk for her entire workday. She was grateful that the Colonel had been so gruff to the Captain when he visited earlier - he hadn't stepped into the office since. Outside the office, however...she craned her neck. Outside the office, he made every effort to "happen" to run into her. Before work, when he tried to walk her in, at lunch when he tried to sit with her, after work, when he tried to walk her home, and then to tried to persuade her to get a drink with him. It was good for her investigation, but she felt herself slowly being more and more tempted to just shoot him. He hadn’t overtly brought up his threat, but… it was an unspoken threat hanging over all of her reactions. The thought of his presence was beginning to put her on edge. But, she was capable of handling it. There wasn't much point in making a big fuss. If he crossed the line, then she would shoot him, and be sure to take all consequences.

"Almost finished, Lieutenant?"

She snapped out of her reverie and looked around. Fuery and Breda apparently were long gone, and the sun was beginning to set. I must have worked for longer than I thought she thought to herself. She checked the time: it was almost 8pm.

"I've got a couple more forms that I would like to get a jump on, to prepare for tomorrow. But I can finish them up. You're welcome to go home, sir".

The Colonel looked at her with a furrowed brow. "Are you sure that everything....is alright, Lieutenant?".

"Everything is fine, sir". She wondered idly how many times she had said that to him. And how many times, like this time, had been a lie.

"Lieutenant." The Colonel was getting firm now. It was so rare for him to get firm with her - she was usually the one getting firm with him. "You have been working late every night for the past week and a half. You've been showing up rather late - a rarity for you, when you don't get here before the janitors even get here. What is going on, Lieutenant?"

"We have a lot of work to do, sir, to clean up after the promised day."

That excuse could have worked....if she wasn't giving it to her boss. Who had also known her for most of her life. "And just how far ahead have you gotten, Lieutenant? Two weeks? Three?" The actual answer was five, but Riza wasn't going to tell him that.

"I fail to see your point, sir".

"You and I, as officers, are supposed to be checking everyone's work for completeness and accuracy. However, I haven't been able to check anyone's work besides yours, because you've been getting to it before me!"

"You are welcome to just check my work, sir. I'm sure you have more than enough on your plate at the moment"

"It's practically a full-time job just to check your work! And you've been taking on more, and more of it, making you stay later and later. The night janitor told me this morning that you were here until 10 pm last night! After getting here at 6 am yesterday morning!".

People were beginning to talk? Oh dear....

"Lieutenant, things are obviously NOT fine, so what is going on? Is there something wrong with your apartment? We can help you find a new one -”

“My living arrangements are just fine”

Mustang looked at her. “Then what IS IT?” His eyes were concerned. Concerned and determined.

Riza hesitated. If she said ‘it’s nothing sir’ he would continue to grill her. He knew that something was wrong, but she wasn’t ready to tell him about Dent and his threats. More importantly, she wasn’t ready for Mustang to start getting…involved.

“Lieutenant?” The Colonel abruptly asked, his face still studying hers.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’ve been told that Xingese restaurant on 3rd finally opened back up. And apparently our Xingese friends gave them some feedback before they left. Shall we try it? “

Riza stared at him. The Colonel would occasionally take the squad out for drinks, or for dinner after a significant accomplishment - such as their promotion to Central en masse. But she and him had tried to avoid appearing in public together for…obvious reasons. Not that it’s worked, she thought cynically to herself. But….it was late. And her stomach had begun to growl at the thought of food. How long has it been since I’ve had Xingese…No, Hawkeye. It wouldn’t be good. But it would be so good….” After such a long day, Riza’s willpower was crumbling.

“But sir, your image - “

“Would there actually be anyone there this time of night? They’ll close in an hour. Besides, everyone knows that we’ve been burning the midnight oil to wrap up after the promised day. And if we wore our military uniforms, everyone would know that we came straight from the office.”

Riza’s resolve crumbled. Against Xingese food, and the Colonel’s pleading eyes, and after the monstrously long day she had, and doing a major investigation virtually all on her own, it didn’t stand a chance.

“Fine, sir.”
---------------------

Colonel Roy Mustang walked out to his car, the Lieutenant falling into step half a step behind him. Close enough that it was obvious that they were walking together but far enough behind that she was still watching his back. It was a bit closer than she normally allowed herself, which only added to his concerns. What is going on with her? He wondered again to himself. After the revelation that she had just dealt with PRIDE when he called her about the flowers, he was hesitant to just joke it off when she seemed like she wasn’t okay. However… Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was still a tough nut to crack. He saw her head on a swivel out of the corner of his eye, still hypervigilant, even though there wasn’t anyone around.

“I seriously doubt that anyone is going to try to murder me in the middle of Central Command, Lieutenant.” he said, turning to give her a teasing grin.

She raised her eyebrows, her expression a clear reminder of just how many people had been killed in Central Command recently.

He shrugged. “Do you want to drive, or shall I?” The truth was, he would LOVE to drive. Hawkeye always drove him, and he was hoping that him driving would throw her off enough to tell him what was going on. Besides, if he drove, and persuaded her to let him use his military card to pay for dinner.We could maybe have a pseudo-date he thought, excitement wriggling into his stomach. Which she would hate. Reality set in. Hmm. How to get something that would feel like a date, but wouldn’t look like a date, so the Lieutenant couldn’t object? Dinner would be pushing it enough. He just realized Hawkeye was looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, what was that, Lieutenant?”

“I asked if we were taking your car, or a military vehicle, sir. If we are taking a military vehicle, then I should drive. But I don’t know if you would feel comfortable with me driving your personal car.”

Ironic, that she was willing to utilize his permission to shoot him in the back, but she didn’t think he trusted her enough to let her drive his car. He would trust, did trust her, with EVERYTHING. She knew all of the horrible things about him, and still volunteered to be at his side. She had seen him at all of his worst moments, and hadn’t run. He would always be willing to give her whatever she needed, whatever she wanted. But if I drive my car, it would feel like more of a date the voice in his head still argued.

“Is the issue me not trusting you with my car, or is it you not trusting me to drive, Lieutenant?”

She briefly smiled “I trust you sir.”

He smiled back, as he began to walk towards his personal vehicle. The brief smile wasn’t much, and was hardly a full explanation of her current behavior, but it was a start.

The conversation on the drive over to the restaurant focused on work, mostly, with a side of how Hayate was doing. It sounded like the dog liked Riza working overtime as much as Roy did - which wasn’t much. They pulled into a parking spot, and walked into the restaurant. Roy approached the host, and he felt Riza freeze beside him. He turned to look at her. Her eyes were focused on something in the restaurant, and they were wide for a brief second, before resuming their normal calm - her version of a panicked shriek.

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

“It’s nothing, sir. I just remembered that I needed to be home early tonight.” Her gaze was still on something further in the restaurant. He turned to see what she was focusing on, that had caused such distress. There were a number of military officers and was that….

“It looks like your neighborhood florist is here.”

She shot him a look. “He is NOT my florist.” She was still noticeably tense and had begun to sidestep to keep Roy in between her and the group of officers.

The host spoke, noticeably confused. “Did you want a table…?”

Roy turned to Hawkeye, who was still stiff.

“I think we’ll do takeout tonight. Spicy broccoli beef with lo mein, orange chicken with lo mein, and six cream rangoons, please. Oh, and your best beer? As well.”

The host nodded. “Will that be all for you today?”

“I think my….”he paused. What do I call her in this situation? “friend needs a moment. Could you possibly bring it to us outside?”

The host nodded. “Of course. “

Hawkeye opened her mouth to argue, but Roy shoved her gently towards the door, as he opened his wallet to pay, before turning to go outside with her. Once they were outside the doors, and around the corner, he turned to her.

“Why are you avoiding Captain Dent, Lieutenant? You typically have no issue getting rid of guys.”

“Except for you.” she said, her eyes teasing him.

“I’m the exception to many rules,” Roy said with a smile. His smile faded. “But really, is that why you’ve been spending so much time holded up at your desk?” Her smile faded as well, and she slowly nodded. He stepped towards her. “Why didn’t you come to me about this?”

“I can handle it, sir.”

“By overworking yourself? By having me set fire to everything that he sends? You know that won’t be enough.”

She froze.

“Why don’t you get rid of him?”

He waited as she clearly deliberated just how much to tell him. “I told you, my current relationship with him is of a classified nature.”

Roy felt his stomach drop. She can’t mean… But I have to accept her decision. I have to let her go. “Then I guess he’s a very lucky man to have you, Lieutenant.”. He nearly choked on the words. But then why has she been avoiding him? And why did she have me burn the flowers if she’s dating him? Something’s still not right.

Roy was pulled from his confusion, by the look of confusion on the Lieutenant's face. “I’m pretty sure that he’s going to regret ever meeting me by the time this is over.”

“You’re planning on hurting him that badly?”

The Lieutenant’s eyes glinted, similar to how he pictured his eyes would have been as he fought Envy. “Oh, I intend to hurt him very badly.”

Something wasn’t adding up here. “Why are you dating him if you’re intending to hurt him?”

Understanding dawned on the Lieutenant’s face, and she chuckled slightly. Roy hoped she would share her realization with him soon. “You thought I was dating him? I thought you knew me better than that, Sir.”

“Wait, so what are you doing with him?”

She sighed. “Let’s just say, he’s interested in me, so I’m in the perfect position to do some investigating on him. Grumman and General Armstrong are both backing me up on this, but we’re keeping it quiet, so that he doesn’t catch on.”

Roy felt another, smaller stab in his gut. She didn’t trust me with this? “Why did you not tell me about this?”

The Lieutenant raised her eyes at him. “Because you would have told me that I was still healing, and you would have interfered. And it would have backfired, Sir. It’s better that I do this on my own. Besides, if this goes wrong, you’ll still be in the clear, and able to advance.”

“But Lieutenant -”

Her eyes grew pleading, the expression took him back to the Promised Day, where she had begged him not to save her. “Please, just trust me, Sir.”

I’m not going to win this one, am I? Roy resigned himself to once again, feeling completely in the dark, and completely helpless when it came to her safety. He had put her as his moral compass. He didn’t expect it to backfire so badly.

Chapter Text

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye took a deep breath. This was….not her favorite part of the day. But, muscles had been torn when her neck and shoulder had been injured on the Promised Day, and physical therapy was the price she had to pay for her continued healing. She slowly turned her neck to the side, center, and back again, slowly leaning into the stretch, trying not to grimace at the pain. She lowered herself to the floor and carefully began to do push-ups with her injured arm. One, two, three, she slowly began to count, first in her head, and then out loud, as the pain grew worse. Hayate, seeing her pain, began to bark, and ran over to her to lick her face, getting in between her body and the floor. Time for a break, then.

“Hey there Hayate” Riza crooned as she petted her dog. You would think that he would be used to my exercises by now. Hayate had stopped barking and was still jumping up to lick Riza’s face. “Down, boy”.

The phone rang. It didn’t ring often, and every time it did, Riza was always curious as to who would be calling her. She walked across the empty floor. The Colonel probably forgot something again, and is calling to ask me about it, she thought, with a huff of annoyance. She loved and respected her superior, but the mask of “irresponsible idiot” that he so often played was a bit too close to reality at times.

“Hawkeye Residence”

“Hello Beautiful Riza!” An overly enthusiastic voice at the other end greeted her, sending chills up her spine. Riza’s heart suddenly began to pound at Dent’s voice, and her mind went blank. Her breathing grew shallow, and she gasped for air. His next words felt like they were coming from the end of a long tunnel.

“I heard you had a fun date with your boss recently. I can’t believe that you would flaunt him in the very restaurant that I was sitting at, my dear! “ The Captain continued, but Riza could no longer hear him. She was suddenly dizzy and forced herself to breathe. She focused on her breathing until she could tune in to what he was saying again.

“....You’d better get yourself transferred away from him since clearly you can’t be trusted around him, my dear. Or better yet, leave the military altogether! A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t live her life as a soldier. Or else, career-ending rumors will be the least of both of your concerns….”

Riza lost the fight to keep the phone in her sweaty palms, and it slid out of her grip and onto the floor. A tiny voice in her head was shocked at how she dropped something - Riza Hawkeye NEVER dropped things. However, in that moment, the rest of her was too focused on the all-important task of breathing, even as sweat dripped into her eyes. She sank to the ground, her legs too weak to carry her. She was wrapped in Pride’s arms again, in far, far too deep. But there was no Colonel to lean on now. Finally, it seemed like the tiny rumblings that was the voice of Captain Dent on the phone ceased, and the dial tone replaced it. Hayate was at Riza’s side, desperately begging for attention, clearly wondering what was wrong. Riza stroked Hayate, as she looked around her to ground herself. I see cardboard boxes - hm, never did finish unpacking -, I see my wooden table, I see my sweater, I see Black Hayate, Riza took a deep breath in, and out. I can hear my breathing, and Hayate’s whimpering… Riza continued the exercise, as her breaths slowed. Her shoulders relaxed, as she finally came out of the attack. It looks like the Doc knew something after all. She looked at Black Hayate and spoke aloud.

“Should I start getting the Colonel involved in this? I think…I think I may be in over my head, here.”

Hayate didn’t give a response, only looked at Riza with his tongue out, and tail wagging.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Colonel Roy Mustang sighed as he walked into the cemetery. It was always odd how peaceful cemeteries were. Peaceful and unsettling. He didn’t love them, but he didn’t know who else to talk to. His feet automatically took him to the grave he was seeking.

“Hey, Hughes, it’s been a while.” He sat down. He missed his best friend. Hughes, ridiculous as he was at times, had been unfailingly loyal. A constant. Someone that he could always rely on. With him dead and Hawkeye determined to struggle with Dent on her own, he felt….adrift. His throat began to tighten and he blinked rapidly to keep his eyes dry. Usually, visiting Hughes’ grave made him feel useless. Now…well, nothing could make him feel more useless than what he was feeling at the moment.

“How do I help her, Hughes? You’ve always seemed to balance helping Gracia, and letting her act for herself. You two were always partners, a team, in everything. I remember freaking out when I found out that you had told her about my ambitions…but looking back, it would have been odd for you to NOT tell her. But I can’t lose her, Hughes. I can’t - “ his voice broke. A tear streaked down his face, and then another. His shoulders relaxed, as he allowed himself to give in to the emotion. No one was around. He didn’t have to play a role. He could be weak. Just this once.

“Mustang, are you okay?”

Naturally, he mused to himself, I would get interrupted. But the interruption wasn’t necessarily unwelcome. Especially when he knew that voice. He turned around.

“Hello Gracia.” Hughes’ wife was standing behind him, their daughter in her arms. His tone softened “How are you, Elysia?” Both of them looked at him with concerned expressions.

“Why is Uncle Roy sad?” Elysia asked, her small voice full of compassion.

Roy gave a sad smile. “Uncle Roy misses your daddy.”

“Mommy misses Daddy too. Sometimes she cries. I miss Daddy playing with me.”

Roy’s heart broke at the simple statement of the impact that Hughes’ death was still having on his family. “Your daddy loved you very much, Elysia.”

Gracia was still looking at him. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong, what NOT wrong, He groused to himself. “I’m just…having some difficulties at work. Hughes was always really good at this sort of thing.”

“Have you talked to Hawkeye about it? She’s always seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.” He paused for a minute, trying to figure out his response. Gracia’s mouth formed an ah of understanding. “What issue is Hawkeye having?” She sat down, and put her daughter in the grass beside her.

He hesitated again. Hawkeye didn’t enjoy having people in her personal business - she didn’t enjoy having HIM in her personal business. But Gracia was female and maybe he could get her perspective on the issue (Olivier Armstrong only could be called female in the most strictly technical definition of the world, and therefore didn’t count. And she had been refusing to see him).

“Gracia, if a guy was ….harassing, and threatening you, what would you do?”

Gracia paused her stroking of Elysia’s hair. “Someone’s threatening Hawkeye?”

“Yeah…I think? She keeps telling me she’s investigating, and she’ll handle it, and I don’t need to interfere.”

“Well….Lieutenant Hawkeye doesn’t seem to be the type to appreciate people pushing her boundaries, regardless of their intentions.”

“I KNOW but…..”

“You’re worried, and you want to support her.” Gracia gave a kind and understanding smile.

“How did I do that? Hughes always seemed to do that so well for you…”

Gracia laughed “He wasn’t perfect, by any means. But he respected me enough to trust me. But I always knew that he would be there for whatever I needed. Continue to let Hawkeye know that you want to help her in any way that you can. You do trust her, right?”

Roy smiled “With my life. I just hope that she’ll trust me with hers.”

Gracia smiled in return. “It’ll be okay, I’m sure the two of you will work it out. Let me know if you need anything in the meantime.”

“I wouldn’t mind some apple pie….”

Gracia laughed again. “Done.”

Roy looked at the headstone again. “Let me know if you need anything as well. I’m sure Hughes would NEVER forgive me if I neglected the two of you, Hawkeye’s problems or no.”

Chapter Text

Major Riza Hawkeye sighed as she sat down at the banquet table, finding her place between Mustang and Fuery. She was grateful that they sat in teams - just her usual squad, plus the Elric brothers. The least that she would have to put up with with the Colonel- no the Major General, now - and now ex-major Edward Elric bickering all throughout the dinner. The ceremony had been fine - VERY long, as so many people were getting promoted for their efforts on the Promised Day. And because so many people were getting promoted, the higher-ups threw in as much extra ceremony as they possibly could. Meaning that Riza’s stomach was rumbling. She would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy Major General Mustang pinning on her new pins, as he whispered a “Thank you, Lieutenant” under his breath. The thank you hadn’t been needed, necessarily, but it was appreciated, nonetheless. The knowledge that he was insisting on pinning the new ranks on everyone in his unit, and the memory of it, had gotten her through the long, multi-hour ceremony. Ordinarily, the tension in Riza’s shoulders would have begun to ease, since the pomp and circumstance was over. However, that also meant that-

She felt fingers entangle in the ends of her hair, and her blood ran cold.

“Good evening, my dearest Riza”.

Riza didn’t have to look around the table to know that everyone was instantly on edge, as all conversation abruptly ceased. Riza was DONE. She grabbed her gun.

“Let go of my hair immediately, Captain Dent.” Riza now outranked him so she could technically give him orders. However, she didn’t think that he would listen. Fortunately, she had a weapon on hand.

“Oh, why so cold, dearest?? I thought you would be happy to see me.”

Riza sat and thought about how best to stand up. He only gripped the ends of her hair, so she did have a bit of movement. However, those ends were currently clipped close to her head, and she didn’t think that putting her hands ANYWHERE near his to remove the clip would be wise. I guess it’s time for a new clip she mused to herself. It wasn’t her favorite by any means, but it was the only one she had left.

She stood up abruptly, forcing her chair, and Dent behind it, back, whirling around to face him, the hair clip clattering to the floor under the strain of her movement and his grip. Her pistol was in her hand, aimed directly at his face. She wished her hair wasn’t pressing on the left side of her face - it made it much more difficult to give an intimidating glare - but until Dent released it, or she forced him to release it, there wasn’t much she could do. One would think the gun aimed right at him would be enough incentive.

“I have never been interested in your intentions, Captain. Release me, or be court-martialed for disobeying the orders of a superior officer”

--------------------

Major General Roy Mustang stared at his Lieutenant. no, Major. Being close enough to her to pin her rank advancement on had been the highlight of his day, maybe his week. But all of that was overshadowed by the issue at hand. She hated that threat - it had always been lurking in all of their heads in Ishval. He was so busy looking at her, that he didn’t notice the look on Dent’s face until he spoke.

His face was contorted into a calculating grin. “I guess you and Mustang ARE closer than just a subordinate and commanding officer. Must’ve been how you’ve advanced so quickly…Major. I told you there would be consequences for defying me.” His free hand started to move toward his gun.

Roy was seeing red. How dare he imply - she’s more competent than EVERY officer in the military I’ve ever met. And certainly more competent than HIM. He looked around as he began to analyze the situation. Dent had spoken in a louder voice than necessary, which means that now every eye in the room was now staring at them. Roy thought he saw Grumman and General Armstrong both start to make their way over to the table. I guess subtle is now off the table. Which was fine with him.

“Captain, I believe the Major told you to let her go. If you don’t release her within the next 20 seconds, you will be facing a court-martial for disobeying two superior officers. I can’t imagine that would be good for your career.”

Roy was so focused on Dent, that he didn’t notice Alphonse slowly sliding a water pitcher toward Fuery, and Edward sliding the other one toward Alphonse.

Dent turned to him with a sneer.

“Just had to protect your little pet, huh Mustang? Having her as your adjutant makes it convenient for her to do all sorts of things for you at all hours of the day…or night. “

Roy Mustang’s patience had been straining ever since he laid eyes on the man. It finally snapped. Roy was done with words.

He clapped his hands together, arching them somewhat so his wounds didn’t slap against each other. Dent’s hand, arm, and the side of his face went up in flames, along with oh, sh-

Hawkeye sputtered as Fuery dumped both water pitchers over her head, extinguishing her burning hair before it reached her face. Some of it had put out the fire on Dent’s hand - pity, that, - but his sleeve and face were still burning as General Olivier Armstrong was the first to reach them. She grabbed a pitcher from a nearby table, and threw the water at Dent.

Dent turned towards her, a pleading look on his face, and opened his mouth, before realizing that her blade was at the side of his throat.

“Captain Harold Dent, you are under arrest for threatening two superior officers, the rape of 18 military officers, blackmail, and whatever other charges I can think up between here and the holding cell. Any attempt to resist will be seen as a threat on my life - “

Dent tried to speak, and stepped forward, his voice coming out in a hoarse gasp. Armstrong gave a shout of rage and slashed. There was blood. So much blood spurting from the wound and….that would be his arm. On the floor. Mustang fought to stay focused as another pool of blood filled his mind. He turned to look at Hawkeye as Grumman approached.

“Harold Dent, effective immediately, you are discharged from the Amestrian military. Your criminal trial will be in three days, to account for your injury. Medic!” He called and looked around for a doctor.

The Fuhrer turned to Hawkeye, his eyes concerned. “Are you - “

“Excuse me” Hawkeye interrupted, and then turned and ran. Mustang started after her. Leaving without being dismissed? Interrupting the Fuhrer…even if he was her grandfather? Hawkeye was NOT okay. But it would be a bad idea for Mustang to go after her after the accusations that Dent had just thrown around. He turned towards his team.

“Havoc, go and- “

Havoc gave him a smirk as he rose from his chair. “I’m not in the military anymore Mustang, you can’t order me around.” He turned and sauntered off, but Roy noticed his step was quick and in the direction Hawkeye had gone. Havoc will make sure that she’s all right, Havoc will make sure she’s all right.” Roy instantly regretted his decision to not go after her. He turned to the Fuhrer, trying not to show how much he was shaking.

Grumman gave him a look of compassion. “Mustang, go get my glasses, will you? I believe I left them on the dais. The rest of his team, will you please go with Colonel Armstrong? I believe there will be room for all of you at his table.”

---------------------------

Major Riza Hawkeye slowed her steps, as she walked down the hallway, still shaking. She had always known that Dent wouldn’t back off without a fight. She just hadn’t expected his threat to actually be carried out.

“Hawkeye” She heard Havoc calling out around the corner. Riza instantly took a silent detour into the next room. As much as she enjoyed working with Havoc….she didn’t want to be around him in that particular moment. She concentrated on breathing as silently and deeply as she could, as she heard him walk away. Her heart rate began to slow.

“Riza? C’mon Riza, I know you’re hiding around here somewhere.” The voice of Rebecca Catalina spoke from just outside the door to the room where Riza was…. strategically sheltering. Definitely NOT hiding. Well….maybe hiding. She opened the door.

Rebecca turned to look at her. Riza was sure that she looked a sight - she was still shaking slightly, and her face was puffy from crying. Rebecca walked over and held her arms out. Riza stepped forward into her arms and tried to not get her dress uniform TOO wet.

“Sorry to make you miss the dancing.”

“Nah, the only one I want to dance with is Havoc, and he’ll dance with me anytime.”

Riza pulled away to look at her friend. “And I thought your standards were low in the Academy.”

---------------------------

Madame Christmas put a drink in front of Roy.

“Another, Roy Boy? Elizabeth giving you trouble?”

Roy didn’t bother to give his aunt a look, much less a response. He just downed it like he had downed all the others. The door to the bar opened behind him.

“Hey there Havoc, any chance you could get this gloomy lump off my hands?” She called to the newcomer.

Roy turned around abruptly. Havoc was standing there, with a concerned expression.

“How….Did you…Is she…”

Havoc sighed. “I couldn’t find her, initially. But I caught up with Rebecca during the dancing, and she said that she had gone home after the dinner fiasco. I swung by her apartment and briefly spoke to her through the door. She’s not injured, and she said that she would be in to work tomorrow.”

Roy sighed. “If I could convince her to take the day off, I would. Which means that I’LL have to go in tomorrow…”

Havoc took the seat next to Roy. “But for tonight….”

Roy smiled, as Aunt Chris slid him another drink.

Chapter Text

General Olivier Mira Armstrong sighed as she approached the office door. I’m becoming almost as bad as Alex; she mused to herself. She couldn’t believe that she was taking the precious TIME to inform Mustang’s team a bit earlier - she was leaving for Briggs in 55 minutes. Dent’s broken face filled her mind. Should have killed him when I had the chance, large crowd or no. But that was besides the point, now. Just a quick detour couldn’t hurt.

Armstrong stepped into Mustang team’s office. She could FEEL the awkwardness in the air. Hawkeye and Mustang, in particular, seemed anxious to avoid eye contact. Cowards. She noted that Hawkeye’s hair was now significantly shorter, probably due to the fact that most of it had been burnt off at the banquet.

Falman turned to her “I’ll be right there, General.”

“I’m not here for you.”

Mustang slowly lifted his head up. He looked as if the weight of the entirety of central command was on his shoulders. He SERIOUSLY needs to get a grip Olivier thought to herself. She watched Hawkeye out of the corner of her eye. Hawkeye just seemed….like a hollow shell. Exactly as the soldier at Briggs had looked. Olivier hated seeing that look.

“General Armstrong, what can I do for you?” Mustang greeted, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“Just a quick stop, Mustang. I thought you and Hawkeye would like to know that Dent has been sentenced to life in prison.”

Mustang nodded. “Thank you for the information, General.” Hawkeye didn’t appear to react to the news.

Olivier nodded back. “Falman, we leave in 90 minutes.”

Falman’s face crinkled in confusion briefly, but he nodded.

Olivier turned and walked out of the office. Cowards, both of them.

The phone rang.

Major Riza Hawkeye sighed. Today had been one giant, grey mass, as she struggled to put one foot in front of the other. She and Major General Mustang struggled to not even look at each other. It was fine. It was her own stupid fault anyways. Had she not been stupid enough to fall in love with her SUPERIOR officer… or even if she had been competent enough to deal with Dent on her own, she wouldn’t be in this mess. And…her shoulder was still giving her pain. Just when she thought she had adjusted to the full extent of her penance, the universe decided that she needed to pay more.

“But did it have to be HIM?” She wondered. She and Roy Mustang had been so intertwined for so long. She didn’t know who she was if she wasn’t his adjutant. At his side, guarding his back, so he could atone for the mistakes that both of them had made. And now…the only relationship she had been able to rely on, for so long, was gone.

Oh, they still worked together. But things were awkward, stilted. Dent had said things that both of them would have faced a firing squad rather than allowed to be spoken aloud.

She was the reason why he had been able to burn all of those people. Their deaths were on her shoulders, in addition to the lives she took herself. Military formality was the closest that they should ever come. Ever.
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The phone rang again.

Riza sighed. She prayed it wasn’t the Major General, trying to “make things right”.

“Hawkeye residence”.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye!!”

“...Winry?” The bright, chipper voice was not who Riza was expecting to hear from.

“Oh, sorry, it’s not Lieutenant anymore, isn’t it? It’s Major Hawkeye. I saw the article in the paper, but I was so concerned about what happened that I completely forgot that you got promoted! Congratulations!”

“....Thanks?” Why is Winry calling? “Has Edward not called you recently?”

“Oh, he never calls, I always have to call him or Al to get an update from them. No, I was actually calling to see if you were okay.”

Riza pondered on what to say to that statement. Winry wouldn’t be satisfied with a quick “I’m fine” but was also wise enough to not be satisfied with a lie. And the truth was…more than she wanted to put on such young shoulders.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, Winry. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good. It’s nice to be home. Has it been that bad?”

Evasion didn’t work either. And then, finally, Riza Hawkeye broke.

Riza didn’t realize how much she was dumping on Winry until she was halfway through. First it started with her guilt over things that happened during the banquet. How she should have gotten Dent arrested before he got out of control. How she should have kept the Colonel under control. And it was all her fault, she had been getting people killed since Isvhal. Not only through shooting them, but through giving the Colonel Flame Alchemy, and now all those deaths were on her hands, and how her hands were soaked in blood, and in more blood, and so much blood, and death and the only way she could see out was more blood and death, and how could she handle any more - the trauma she had experienced was already swallowing her whole, how could she ever handle it, but she had to, because she was a monster -

Winry finally interrupted. “Hawkeye, can you bring these people back?”

“Well…no.” Obviously.

“So, what can you do for them?” Winry was clearly running low on patience. A quality that seemed very rare in Reisembol.

“I can remember them. I can ensure that something like this never happens again. And I can atone for it.” Riza’s voice shook with the admission.

“What does that do for THEM?” Winry’s voice was stern. But, for a mechanic, she was surprisingly insightful.

“Well…I guess they’re dead. So I guess it does nothing for them. I guess…I want to make it right, but I don’t think I ever can. Because I’m just a monster.”

“Really? The woman who comforted a young girl who was scared for her friends, who looked after a young state alchemist and his brother, a woman who just helped organize a military coup to save every person in Amestris, a woman who willingly underwent several terrifying things to keep a promise to help an old friend make the country better…just a monster?”

Winry had a point.

“Well, maybe more than a monster.” Riza conceded.

“Look, I don’t like Scar for killing my parents. In fact, I still hate him. But as I’ve thought about it, I can’t change the fact that they’re dead. I can only change what I do about it. Talking with Edward and Al, it sounds like Scar has been doing his best to atone for the wrongs that he has done, and that makes me feel better. It makes me feel like maybe all of this can finally end. “

“So you’re saying that the families of my victims would feel better if I focused more of my effort on fixing things, and rebuilding Ishval and Amestris, rather than beating myself up?”

“Exactly.“

Riza sat down. Could it be? Was it possible? She still felt the guilt, she still felt the sorrow. But the self-loathing, the desire for herself to be in pain….was starting to shift. Just a little bit.

“Thanks, Winry.”

“You’re welcome. And say hi to Major General Mustang for me….when you’ve got the time” Winry said in a teasing tone.

Riza opened her mouth to protest, only to hear a dial tone.

Sometimes, it was fairly obvious that Winry Rockbell had grown up with the Elric brothers.

Chapter Text

Major General Roy Mustang sighed. He had to do it. He had to. But he hated it. He felt like he was ripping away a part of himself.

Stop being so selfish, he sternly instructed himself. It’s what’s best for her. You need to stop relying on her so much. You deserve to feel this pain. You’ve hurt her time and time again. She needs to be placed away from you for her own protection. It didn’t mean that it wasn’t still going to hurt though.

Hawkeye stepped up to his desk. It was always the most difficult to think of her as her correct military rank right after she had gotten promoted. And that far too often led to thinking of her as - Nope. Don’t go there Mustang. No first names for you. No first names in the military.

It hurt to look at her. Stupid, stupid, stupid idiot, he cursed himself again and again. Deep breath. Just get it over with, and you can deal with the pain later.

“Major Riza Hawkeye, effective immediately, you are being reassigned to - “

“EXCUSE ME?” Hawkeye interrupted.

“You’re being reassigned.”

“Just me?”

“Well…yes?”

“Why.” Her voice was as sharp as he had ever heard it. She had to know, didn’t she?

“It’s because….It’s because……” he stammered, doing anything to avoid eye contact.

“MAJOR GENERAL”. She enunciated each word clearly, in a tone that told him she was not going to accept anything less than the truth.

He looked at her, desperate to convey his point. “Because…because I’m an idiot, who was stupid enough to fall in love with his subordinate, but who couldn’t protect her, and I can’t…I can’t afford to lose you.”

“So you requested this transfer.” Her voice grew even more dangerous, and her gaze was steely.

He fought to keep his voice steady. “...yes. I thought it would be best for you.”

“Who are you to say what is best for me, Major General Roy Mustang??” Uh-oh. They were in full-name territory now. And he could see his own pain so clearly mirrored in her eyes, combined with fear.

“Major, please. I…know that we care for one another, but the promotion ceremony was the second time that you have been seriously injured in an attempt to get to me, and another example of how I keep hurting you and - “ In his desperation to explain and to push away his own hurt, his voice continued to rise.

“I said I would follow you into -“ Her normally calm voice rose as well, her eyes flashing with rage.

“I KNOW WHAT YOU PROMISED, I WAS THERE.” He shouted, standing up to tower over her. “BUT I…” his voice broke and his knees grew weak until he had to brace himself with his arms on his desk. He hung his head. “I am not strong enough to watch you almost die again, so please, please take this transfer. You’re not safe around me, I need you to be safe. Please. Please accept this.” He felt his eyes begin to grow wet. Not now Mustang, not now. Be strong, for her sake. Deep breaths. You can do it, for her.

He felt a gentle hand on his chin. Hawkeye had grabbed him and tiled his head up so that he had to look into her eyes. Hers had calmed and were full of compassion, as well as pain.

“Why are you doing this, sir?” she quietly asked.

“Because I can’t lose you.”

“So you chose to make me go, instead?”

“I thought…I thought it would be better this way.“

“Better for who?”

“Better for you!”

“Why, because I would have no control over it?”

That paused him. Hawkeye was not known for being fond of a lack of control.

“Well….I guess not. Easier for me, because then I wouldn’t have to worry about you.”

“I can function without you, Sir.” He laughed at the expression on her face, but fought the hurt rising in his stomach. She smiled at him and continued. “And in the planning for the promised day, you clearly showed that you don’t need me to be successful.” He smiled at that, as the hurt was quickly replaced with pride. “But,” she emphasized, as her gaze became more firm, “I think we do much better together.”

“Well, that is true lieu-Major.” He caught himself. She smiled. “But what if - “

“Then then I’ll have the Flame Alchemist protecting me, and you’ll have the Hawk’s eye protecting you.” Her mouth twisted ironically, as she used the nicknames that they both hated.

He sat back down in his chair. She had a point. He looked up at her again.

“Promise you’ll be careful? “

“I promise, sir.” Something had changed about her. She seemed to be more…at peace with herself. Good for her. “Anything else?”

“No, Major, You’re dismissed. I’ll tear up the transfer paperwork.”

He saw Hawkeye’s satisfied smile as she turned to return to her desk. Her turn also alerted him to the fact that the rest of the room was staring.

“Does anyone else have anything to say about it?” Then without waiting for a response, he ordered “Get back to work.”

Major General Roy Mustang grabbed the next sheet on his stack, his mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

It took him ten minutes to realize that the form he was reading was upside-down.
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Dr. Wilhelm Wundt sighed as he sat back in his seat. The quartermaster hadn’t shown up to his appointment…. AGAIN. Wilhelm wanted to help the man, but he couldn’t do anything if the man didn’t come to him. He heard his phone ring from outside his office. He walked out and picked it up.

“Dr. Wundt speaking”

“Hello Doctor, this is Major General Roy Mustang. I had a couple of sessions with you when I was in the hospital a while back…… You mentioned that I could call if I ever needed to discuss anything? Do you…. have a couple of minutes?”

“Of course, Major General. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way.”

“Thank you”

“What did you want to discuss?”

He heard him hesitate on the phone. It was fascinating, despite him taking the leap to call, he still struggled to share why he called. “Do you think…I could ever…deserve happiness?”

“Do you think you deserve happiness? At the end of the day, that’s who truly matters.”

“I want to believe that what I’m currently doing is enough penance. That my suffering further doesn’t help them out. But….she got hurt. Again. Because of me.”

Wilhelm assumed that “her” probably referred to Hawkeye.

“What happened?”. Wilhelm already knew what had happened - several of his current clients had been at the banquet, and most of them had been quite upset by the events that had happened there. But he was curious how Mustang would describe it.

“Well….it actually started when we were back in the hospital. Hawkeye ran into a guy that she used to know from the academy. He basically told her that she had to date him, or he would tell everyone that we were in a romantic relationship, which would have led to both of us getting kicked out of the military, so my entire plan to be Fuhrer would have been derailed, so Hawkeye didn’t turn him down exactly, but also didn’t say yes, and then the guy kept bugging her and bugging her, and she forbade me from interfering so she could run an entire investigation on him without me,, and then he grabbed her hair at the banquet, and I just….snapped. And set him on fire. And he had his hand in her hair, so…her hair got burnt too.”

Interesting that he just says he snapped, instead of mentioning that Dent was threatening both of them. Wilhelm noted to himself.

“How badly burned was she?”

“Not really…aside from her hair. It’s short again. Which I can’t tell if she likes or not.”

“Has she said anything about it?”

“Well….no. But I haven’t exactly asked. Things have been…awkward as of late.”

“Dent said things that both of you had been pretending to ignore.”

Mustang was silent for a bit. “How did you know his name?”.

Whoops. “With all due respect Major General….I work with the military. And most of the military was at that banquet. I’ve…heard a thing or two. What’s your reaction to that?”

Mustang sighed. “I should have guessed. It’s just…frustrating. I can’t even handle the relationship with HAWKEYE, and that has thrown me off enough that the thought of dealing with the REST of the military is just….” Mustang took a shaky breath. “It’s too much. I can’t do it without her. I even tried to transfer her away and she just yelled at me. And…even just that much almost broke me. I…can’t. I just can’t…lose her.”

“You really value your relationship with her, and you feel like you can’t function without her. “

Mustang laughed bitterly. “Kind of pathetic, isn’t it? I know it’s the impression that I give off, but for it to be the actual reality…”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Oh, Come ON Doc, really?” Mustang said with a laugh.

“I know, classic line. But I’m still curious about your reaction to that.”

“It makes me wonder why in the world she respects me. She has followed me through so much, and has been so loyal….and I just want it to be worth the price that she is paying.”

“You want what to be worth the price she’s paying?”

Mustang paused. “...Me, I guess. I want to be worth the price she’s paying.”

“How will you know that you’re worth it?”

“I’ll become Fuhrer. Turn Amestris into a democracy. Make it so she no longer feels guilt for entrusting me with Flame Alchemy.”

That was quite a list. Wilhelm chose the one that might be the simplest to unpack. “I think it’s interesting that Hawkeye forgiving herself is on your list of what makes you ‘worth it’”

“Well, I’m responsible, aren’t I?”

“Responsible for what you did with Flame Alchemy in Ishval, or responsible for how she reacts to it.”

“...the first, I guess.”

“So is Hawkeye forgiving herself really in your control?”

“I guess…I just want to see her happy. And safe. And I prefer that she would be those things as close to me as possible.”

“Because you love her”

“Yeah because I….wait, how did YOU figure that out?”

Wilhelm was glad that Mustang wasn’t actually in the room with him, so he didn’t see his eyeroll. Eyerolls weren’t very professional, but they were one of his most common internal reactions.

“It’s…pretty obvious that you two have feelings for each other. If you see the two of you relaxed together it’s pretty clear.”

Mustang was silent. And then chuckled to himself. “I guess I’m not as good of an actor as I thought… Hm…I guess she must find me somewhat tolerable after all, then.”

“That sounds like something that you should talk with her about.”

“Yeah, I will…Thanks, Doctor”.

“Anytime, Major General. I’d be happy to do another session with you if you think it will be helpful.”

He could hear his soft smile over the phone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Wilhelm hung up the phone. It was amazing, how after all this time, how his patients still surprised him.

Chapter Text

“Major Hawkeye, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Major Riza Hawkeye looked up from the form she was reading. Major General Mustang was looking at her with a strange smile.

“Of course, sir”.

Riza followed the Major General into … the supply closet?? An odd place for a conversation, for sure. He closes the door behind her.

"This was part of the stack of paperwork we got from the Fuhrer’s office" he stated, handing a sheet of paper out to her.

She took it. If this is another stupid attempt to transfer me, he's going to regret it and she did her best to convey that in the look that she gave him.

He smiled again. It was odd, how upbeat he was being. Not a transfer then. "Just read the announcement, Major"

"Yes sir". It slipped out as an automatic response. She read through it once. And then again, her heart beginning to pick up speed. Her face flushed, and a pleasant wriggling started happening in her stomach. Her mind automatically started telling her to breathe, to fight the excitement suddenly flooding through her. "IS this....? Did they really....?"

The Major General nodded. His smile had gotten bigger, which she didn't think was possible. He took a step forward. And another. He placed his hand on the counter behind her but left the one that would have blocked her from the door at his side. "Members of the military may now date, as long as both parties give their consent in separate meetings with the Fuhrer, and the Fuhrer may set whatever ground rules he deems fair as a condition of his approval." His smile then turned hesitant. "Major....Hawkeye....oh for heaven's sake, RIZA, will you....do you want to...."

Her commanding officer had a remarkable ability to bungle even the simplest of things. "It's a good thing I'm here to cover for you, sir" she stated, as she took a step forward. Deep Breath, Riza. She grabbed the lapels of his coat...and froze as her eyes met his. This was really happening. Their impossible dream, her impossible dream...Ishval hadn't destroyed everything. Maybe, just maybe they could both atone for the people they had killed AND find happiness. But was it worth the risk? Love, ultimately, was a risk. They were no longer risking their careers, but they were still messing with the fundamental nature of their relationship. If they went through with this....everything would change. Hopefully for the better, but potentially ruining the most lasting and supportive relationship she had ever known. He leaned forward, his breath on her lips. The statement was clear.

He was leaving the decision up to her, trusting her to keep him on the right path, as he always did.

And Riza Hawkeye extended her neck and kissed Roy Mustang.

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Roy thought his heart stopped beating when her lips finally met his. And yet...the sensation was oddly comfortable. It felt like...home somehow. As they both deepened the kiss, it turned from a soft, comforting flicker to a deep burning flame. All of his emotions poured out of him and he held her tighter and kissed her harder. His arms were wrapped around her, one around her lower back, the other hand threading through her soft hair. His heart pounded with the realization that he had long hoped for but never dared to focus on. She LOVES me, she LOVES me, she LOVES me. He wasn't sure if they had been kissing for seconds or hours. Each one was a prayer that she would be able to understand just how he felt about her. That she was perfect in his eyes, and whole and loved, and here and here and SAFE -

The doorknob to the supply closet began to turn and they both abruptly jumped away.

Fuery stood with his hand on the doorknob, eyes bulging so that they almost overshot his glasses, mouth slightly ajar.

“I….came, was going to …. Had to grab….” he stammered, his face turning several shades of crimson.

Roy froze. He was the commanding officer here. A supposed ladies man, who had theoretically done this hundreds of times. Surely, getting interrupted just this once wouldn’t be a big deal. But yet, his mind was a blank void of how to deal with the situation.

“The Major General and I will be out in a moment” Hawkeye stated, her voice slightly more breathy than normal.

Fuery nodded, and quickly shut the door.

Roy turned to look at her, with her face still close to his, their arms still wrapped around each other. She was here. And he could be hers.

He smiled. "You know, the Fuhrer scheduled a one-on-one meeting with me at 1:30 tomorrow".

"What a coincidence, my grandfather the Fuhrer and I are having tea from 1 to 2 tomorrow". She said with a smile, stepping back.

He nodded. They have had plenty of time to get to this point. They could take their time after, too.

She tucked a too-long strand of hair behind her ear. "I'd best get back to work".

She opened the door to leave.

Did she have to go?

"Hey, Major"

She stopped, turning to face him "Yes, sir?"

They had time.

"I don't want you to call me 'sir' ever again, understood?"

She smiled "I think I can manage that"

And then she shut the door to his office.

Major General Roy Mustang went back to his desk, a stupidly big grin on his face.
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Major Riza Hawkeye almost jumped out of her seat when she heard the knock on her grandfather’s office door. She turned to look at him. His smile was wide, and his eyes were laughing.

“I wonder who could be interrrupting our tea, my dear?”

Riza gave him a look. HE knew that SHE knew, that he had DELIBERATELY scheduled a meeting with Mustang over their tea. And then he was pretending to be innocent, like he hadn’t been grilling her about her feelings for him for the last half hour. The door opened.

And there was…she was still at a loss as to what to call him. Two days ago, she would have called him “Major General.” But now…things were different. Not officially, but… definitely unofficially. Her lack of a proper name to call him did not stop Major General Roy Mustang from stepping into the Fuhrer’s office.

“I believe you wanted to see me sir? Ah, Major Hawkeye, WHAT a coincidence!” He said dramatically, a big grin spreading across his face as he looked at her.

Grandfather just chuckled. “So, Mustang. I’ve been told that you’re interested in dating my granddaughter.”

Mustang smiled, as he took a seat next to Riza. “Yes, sir.”

“I think this is the part where I’m supposed to threaten to shoot you if you ever hurt her. Especially since you’re her commanding officer. But considering she’s already threatened to shoot you on multiple occassions….I’m not sure if I should be more worried about you, or about her!”

“I promise to look after her, sir.”

Riza turned to him with a glare. Did that mean that he was about to get MORE over-protective? That was the LAST thing that she needed.

“Mustang, what are your plans for your career? Besides taking my job someday?”

“My team and I were hoping to be transferred to Ishval. I…did a lot of harm there, and I would appreciate the opportunity to do some good.”

Grandfather turned to Riza. “And are those plans yours as well?”

“Yes, sir. Seems only right that we help rebuild after all the destruction that we caused.”

Grandfather nodded. “I’ve been thinking about your end goals Mustang - about Amestris becoming a democracy. I’ve decided that rebuilding is the perfect time to begin. I’m planning on sectioning out Amestris into quadrants, and giving each a governor to run it. The first governors will be military generals, but then they’ll be replaced by civilians. I’d like you to be the first governor-general of the eastern sector, with a special emphasis on Ishval. Will you accept these orders?”

Riza and Mustang both looked at her grandfather, their eyes wide.

“Yes sir,” Mustang responded crispily, not entirely succeeding at keeping the excitement out of his voice.

“Well then, I have another meeting I need to get to. But I believe you two now have much to discuss…considering that you now have my official permission for a romantic relationship. “ His smile was wide as he walked out the door.

Major General Roy Mustang turned to…what did he call her now? Major? Hawkeye? He wasn’t sure that she would be comfortable with ‘Riza’ just yet…. Regardless, she looked at him with one of the widest smiles he had ever seen from her.

“I have something for you” he said, pulling out a package wrapped in brown paper that he had carried in with him.

She looked at him with confusion and then opened it. Inside was a plain, clay vase. It wasn’t anything fancy - it was more sturdy and practical than anything else. But it had a practical elegance to it - just like her. She smiled at the inside joke.

“Now you have something to put flowers in…provided that you don’t toss them out the window.” He said with a smile.

She smiled back. “If they’re from you, they’re never going out the window.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Major Riza Hawkeye, may I have this dance?”

She smiled again, as she accepted it, and put her other hand on his arm. Roy hoped that the Fuhrer’s meeting went for a very long time.

Chapter Text

5 years later: Central Command

General Roy Mustang fought down the grin, as he walked through the rows of officers. He wasn’t usually a fan of pomp and circumstance but today…today was different. Grumman had FINALLY stepped down as Fuhrer and retired and had chosen Roy as his replacement.

Today, Roy’s lifelong ambition was finally being realized….or step one, anyways. He had worked with Grumman to gradually start reducing the military and making Amestris a democracy, but there was still a long road ahead of them. Roy’s gut was churning in a mixture of excitement and fear. Roy had been the “youngest person to achieve *insert rank here* since he had started making major. But it was still another thing entirely to become Fuhrer at such a relatively young age. He had even started growing a mustache, in response to Madame Christmas’ teasing about his baby face. Which could make the long road of reform even longer. But they had made some progress. The Governer program had been a success, and Scar had actually agreed to become the next governor of the east, now that Roy was leaving to become Fuhrer.

Even more miraculously….Roy fought to keep a stoic expression on his face, as his mind wandered to that morning. Grumman’s last act as Fuhrer had been to marry General Roy Mustang and Brigadier General Riza Hawkeye. Riza had technically turned in her resignation paperwork yesterday, but everyone had been so busy that she wasn’t technically out of the military. Yet. Meaning that she could still serve as his adjunct, and got to wear her military dress uniform to the wedding. It had been a small ceremony - Roy would have denied it if asked, but he was grateful that the Elric brothers had both happened to be back home from their respective trips so that they could come. Even if Edward Elric did bring his children with him. Watching Fullmetal be a father had been…entertaining, in the very least. Riza had already gotten several panicked phone calls from Winry, which made both of them laugh - what did Riza know about being a parent? But it was nice to watch the Elric brothers grow into adults. He wouldn’t go as far to say that they were “normal”, but healthy. And happy. And now it was his and Riza’s turn. He couldn’t wait to shock the rest of the military by introducing her as “my wife” during his inauguration speech. He fought to not keep too much eye contact with her as she held the car door open for him.

Today may be the best day of Roy Mustang’s life.

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Riza Hawkeye looked at her husband’s back, as he got into the car. She fought down a smile. THIS was the culmination of….everything. EVERYTHING that they had worked for, fought for, struggled for. And now….it was finally all happening. The fact that Roy had somehow persuaded her grandfather to marry them on this all-important day just added to the excitement. She felt…free. It had taken a while, but her guilt over Ishval was gone. Helping rebuild had helped. But also acknowledging the good she HERSELF was doing had also helped. And now both she and Roy could walk into their bright future.

Today may be the best day of Riza’s Hawkeye’s life.

The mustache, however, needed to go.