Archive of Our Own

“Sir?” Hawkeye stood at his desk, back ramrod straight as always.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” Roy asked, taking the excuse to abandon his paperwork. He leaned back in his chair and took Hawkeye in—the boxy uniform, the stern expression, the way her bangs fell into her face.

“I just got back from my meeting with General Grumman,” she told him. Roy straightened at that. When did Hawkeye have a meeting with Grumman, just herself? He didn’t remember seeing that on the calendar; then again, when was the last time he’d look at the calendar?

“He has a mission for me,” Hawkeye continued, and it was then that Roy zeroed in on the folder in her arms, the white-knuckled grip she had on it.

“Since when does the general assign you missions?” Roy asked lazily, though he still sat up straight, his gaze focused on the folder in Hawkeye’s grasp.

“Since he’s my superior, just like you,” Hawkeye said firmly. “I’ll be gone for a week. I’ve already mentioned this to the others. Havoc will take over as your bodyguard, while Breda will do my office duties while I’m gone.”

“Hey, now, I didn’t approve any of this,” Roy argued.

Hawkeye sighed. “The general did. It’s fine, Colonel. I’ll be back in a week. Don’t slack off while I’m gone.” She eyed the amount of paperwork on his desk, and Roy took the top sheet off the stack.

“I don’t slack off,” he said. He began idly perusing the new piece of paper in front of him before he remembered that he hadn’t finished the one he’d been working on. Cursing under his breath, Roy pulled that paper to the top and began looking for where he’d left off. He glanced up and noticed Hawkeye was still there.

“Is there anything else, Lieutenant?” he asked, a little grouchy.

“No, sir,” she said, and while her mouth remained set, Roy swore he saw a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

Day one passed by quickly. Havoc came in to check on him periodically, “to make sure he hadn’t been shot in his fancy chair,” but Roy always shooed him out just as quickly. Breda came and went as well, usually delivering more paperwork, though sometimes he took the things that Roy had managed to finish.

“No wonder Hawkeye’s so wound up all the time,” Breda muttered as he left one time. “How does she get any work done when you can’t finish your own?”

Roy pouted.

Day two passed by just as quickly, though this one was filled with meetings. Breda tagged along, pen and clipboard in hand, looking for all the world like Hawkeye. But he wasn’t Hawkeye.

It was on the second day that Roy realized there was just something about Hawkeye that made life easier. What was happening that the men she’d replaced herself with weren’t doing? Roy couldn’t put a finger on it.

Days three and four dragged. Roy couldn’t bring himself to lift a pen, and Breda was on his case about it. In apology, Roy decided to take the office out for lunch, but that turned into a disaster when a car backfired and Havoc had thrown himself on top of Roy, the both of them tumbling to the dirty ground. Havoc apologized profusely, but Roy couldn’t help but feel miffed that his new jacket had a tear in the elbow.

Finally, Friday arrived, and Roy had never been happier to approach the weekend before. He’d never realized how much he’d taken Hawkeye for granted. Even her notetaking skills were better than Breda’s, something Roy hadn’t thought would matter to him before. But worst of all, he’d never even made a dent in his paperwork, somehow always tied up in something else. He sighed and settled into his chair, deciding he should at least attempt to get some work done so Hawkeye doesn’t think he’s useless when she comes back.

As he worked, his subordinates left one by one. Breda was the last to leave, offering to stay and help, but Roy waved him off. Monday, Hawkeye would be back, and everything would be back to normal. He didn’t need Breda to babysit him on a Friday night.

Roy worked for what felt like hours, signing paperwork and flipping it into the output box that Hawkeye would pick up on Monday. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing both hands down his face. He glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing ten at night, much later than he’d ever stayed—at least, than he’d ever stayed without Hawkeye. He looked at the paperwork he’d finished and the pile he still had to go and sighed. That would have to be enough for tonight.

Roy got up and threw on his coat, exiting his office and turning to lock it. Right before he stuck his key in, he heard the sound of a lock being turned. Roy turned to see the main office door opening and closing, a flash of light illuminating a lean figure before closing. The figure reached for the lights and turned them on.

“Hawkeye?” Roy asked.

Hawkeye turned to him, her eyes wide. “Sir?” She wore a tan coat and wrapped it tighter around herself after she caught sight of him.

“What are you doing here? You said you’d be gone for a week,” Roy said.

“The mission finished earlier than expected,” Hawkeye said, inching towards her desk. “I just got back and wanted to pick up some paperwork…” The clicking of her heels drew his attention to her feet, and Roy’s eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at the shoes she was wearing.

“What are you—”

“It was for the mission,” Riza cut him off. “I’m not allowed to talk about it.” And then she blushed. If she weren’t wearing four inch high stilettos, Roy might have thought that was the strangest thing he’d seen that day.

“Colonel?” Her voice drew his attention to her face once more. Her hair was up in its usual bun, but it was messier, as if she’d thrown it together before walking into the building. He wondered if it had been down for this mission, and what it looked like when it flowed over her shoulders.

Roy swallowed hard. He moved forward, towards Hawkeye. She stood at her desk, one hand still holding her coat together and the other gripping the edge of the desk like a lifeline. Her face was as neutral as ever, but her eyes widened minutely as he got in her personal space.

“Colonel?” she asked again.

“Open your coat,” he ordered.

Hawkeye blushed again. She cleared her throat and looked down at their shoes, how the toes of hers were against the toes of his.

“I—”

“Please,” Roy said weakly. Hawkeye obeyed immediately. She let her grip on the coat slacken, and it opened slightly. Roy reached a hand to her waist, brushing the offending garment out of the way to see a tight black dress with a plunging neckline. She wore a simple necklace, a gold chain with a single diamond laying nestled between her breasts. She looked breathtaking.

“Sir,” she tried again, but Roy pushed her coat off of her shoulders before she could continue. The dress was floor-length with a thigh-high slit on her left leg. Shaking, his hands brushed the opening of her dress, and he felt cool metal.

He smirked. “Never go anywhere without a gun, huh?”

Hawkeye swallowed. “It was for the mission.”

He didn’t believe her. Slowly, carefully, Roy reached down with his nose and traced her collarbone. Her breath hitched.

“I missed you this week, you know,” he said.

Hawkeye was stiff as a board, though the blush on her cheeks had spread to her chest. “I’m sure Havoc and Breda were sufficient enough substitutes.”

“I disagree,” Roy said. He’d reached the middle of her collarbone and dipped his nose down to her cleavage, inhaling deeply. She smelled like a perfume he couldn’t recognize, something floral and ditsy, something that didn’t suit her, but she also smelled like sweat.

“C-Colonel,” she began, but Roy moved his attention to the other side of her collarbone and she relaxed slightly.

“Havoc tackled me to the ground yesterday,” Roy said conversationally, his nose still skimming the soft skin of her clavicle. It vibrated under him with something like laughter and Roy grinned, victorious.

“W-why?” Hawkeye stuttered, and Roy relished in it. He’d never known her to stutter, to blush, to stumble in her oh-so-careful façade she’d painstakingly put together. All of a sudden, Roy wanted to ruin it.

“Car backfired, and he thought it was a gunshot,” Roy told her. “Nothing serious.” Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. Hawkeye let out a shaky breath. “But I realized something while you were gone.”

“What?” The breathiness of her voice sent shivers down Roy’s spine.

He trailed his nose from its path along her collarbone up her neck and to her ear. “I missed you,” he said simply.

Hawkeye pulled back to look him in the eyes, her own shining with something he couldn’t quite name. “I missed you, too.”