Every Christmas night since Ishbar, three friends would meet each other at a bar. One came after saying good night to his family. The other two would come straight from the office. The only female of the group never did any drinking. Each time she was the designated driver but she didn't mind. Hawkeye was the patient strong wall for both men during that time. As each shot was engulfed without a missing beat, both men would reminisce about the war. Only during this night would they talk about the blood that they spilled, innocent blood of people who were only defending their religion and very way of life.
This year however was different than any other. Brigadier General Maes Hughes had died in the line of duty. Colonel Roy Mustang didn't just loose a drinking buddy, but a friend who shared the horror of war. Now only First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye remained, and she couldn't help him. Hawkeye hadn't shared the horror of war like Maes and himself. So Roy decided to break tradition and drown himself in a woman, then alcohol back at his own apartment. Making sure his gun was attached to him and his gloves on, he made his way to the coat rack. Everyone by now had left headquarters and he had a date in a few minutes. Just then the office door opened to reveal the one and only Riza Hawkeye. Roy remembered he hadn't told her yet.
"Shall I drive you somewhere sir?"
"That isn't necessary Lieutenant. I have a date, it isn't far. Please go on home. I won't need you tonight."
"It's Christmas though, sir."
"I'm aware of that Hawkeye!"
Roy left a stunned Lieutenant in the office. He didn't even reach the stairs before he heard her voice.
"You can still talk to me about it sir."
"It wouldn't matter. You weren't there, Hawkeye."
"I needn't be just for you to have someone to talk to."
"Shut up! I don't need you!"
Mustang took the stairs faster than usual. Riza just watched him go before heading for her coat. She lingered in the office a little bit. Was Hughes truly the only person he trusted? She heard he had gotten a date for tonight. Breaking tradition wasn't odd because his best friend was doing it. However, death did that, didn't it? She was still here just in case Roy needed someone, but could it be that he finally was able to move on? Did Mustang finally get over the horrors of the war? If he had, wasn't it time she dealt with hers?
The Colonel's subordinates all sat around in a bar. They laughed at each other's stories and stunts. When the Colonel himself entered they were surprised. During the day, he had boasted about a date. Mustang had received many glares, but he hadn't noticed. A snicker came from among them as he sat down beside them.
"Did you get dumped Colonel?" inquired Second Lieutenant Havoc.
"Yes," Roy sighed. "She said I seemed too distracted. She got angry when I wouldn't talk about it."
"Truth be told Colonel I thought you be at the bar with the First Lieutenant." Breda commented.
"Why would I?" Roy shot back, obviously still angry about earlier.
"Well Brigadier General Hughes once told me that you three had a tradition to go to a bar on Christmas night. He said you two would talk about the war. Since he's dead now…" Falman stopped.
"Yes?" An irritated Mustang coaxed an uneasy Falman.
"We just thought you'd talk to Hawkeye Colonel." Havoc helped out.
"I still can't see your point. First Lieutenant Hawkeye wasn't even at Ishbar. She just came along to drive the drunken men home." Roy snapped once again.
They all looked at each other uncomfortably. They knew they weren't supposed to tell him. She would kill them if Roy found out. However, it just seemed appropriate to tell him. None of them knew Hawkeye outside of the office. She never mixed her lives like the rest of them. Mustang sat here pitifully looking like he sure could use someone to talk to. Who better than Hawkeye now to talk to him? They knew they were going to regret this in the morning.
"Colonel?" Havoc spoke up. "Hawkeye was at Ishbal. She was assigned to yours and Brigadier General Hughes' unit. Hawkeye was your sniper protection."
Upon hearing this, the glass slipped through Roy's fingers. It landed on the floor with a loud crash. People in the bar stopped their drinks to look. The bartender came over to see if everything was okay. Mustang sat there utterly stunned. Of course, why hadn't he seen it earlier, others soldiers would have squirmed just hearing about it, but Hawkeye always sat there with a faraway gaze. He never thought anything of it at the time. It all made sense now though. No sniper or sharpshooter was as good as his Lieutenant. During those days of war, he always wondered who their sniper was. Since the snipers set up camp elsewhere, he had never known. He had wanted to thank them for covering their backs so many times. Mustang had forgotten though. Looking back on it, the shots had always been precise and well-timed, one bullet between the eyes if they ever got with in twenty feet of the unit. The sniper had even covered their backs during that time of a rogue Alchemist. The poor guy went mad and had come at them. A sniper round entered the head once he hit the twenty-foot mark. No one could have pulled that off as well as Hawkeye could. Now Mustang felt bad for shouting that absurd nonsense at her earlier in the day. Roy quickly put down his money and dashed out the door. His subordinates snickered at him.
"Think we'll get shot at in the morning?" Breda asked.
"Most likely…" Fury replied.
Mustang dashed down the streets of Central, trying to make it to Hawkeye's apartment in record time. On the way, he passed by the military hospital and noticed Black Hayate on the steps. Mustang instantly stopped and looked at the pup. Black Hayate just barked in a greeting. He wondered why he was there and not back at Riza's? Just then Hawkeye walked out the doors coughing. Then it hit him, Hawkeye had been coughing a lot. He should have known she would catch a cold. She had been staying late to finish paperwork a lot. Less sleep would equal in getting sick, Mustang should have known. Mentally hitting himself, he made his way towards her as she descended the stairs. Just as he reached her, her feet hit the last step. Hawkeye looked up from the ground and into her commanding officer's face. That faraway gaze was once again on her face. Recognition began to hit in her mind, and her hand swiftly went up in a salute. Mustang gave a sad smile before placing his hand on hers drawing it down.
"Not tonight," was all he said.
Instead of going to a bar like tradition, they went to Hawkeye's where they talked. Mustang apologized to a puzzled Hawkeye. When he finished explaining, he saw her eyeing her guns. A soft chuckle came from him as a fit of coughs erupted from her throat. Mustang was finally able to persuade her to talk about the war. Her memories were just as bad as his. However, she seemed to deal with it better than him. Hawkeye declined that and told him she just locked it away till it was time to deal with it. She explained the memory of what she had done would just get in the way of protecting him. Once he was Fuhrer and was secured in that position, then she would deal with it. They looked out the window to see snow falling.
"You know," Mustang began. "I used to want to believe that we were just covering the sand with wine, blood-colored wine. However, something like that could never be true. There was too much of it."
"Colonel, that isn't sand out there, its snow."
"Blood covered snow…"
"No, it's everlasting white snow."
Mustang looked over at her. A faraway gaze was once again on her stoic face. Was this how she handled it, by constantly telling the difference from back then and now? Hawkeye looked down at her hands, clenching them into fists. Mustang finally understood that she was in pain too. He just smiled to himself. She truly was stronger than him. Hawkeye heard him push back from the table and walk over to her. He placed out a hand, which she reluctantly took. Pulling her to her feet, Mustang led her to her bedroom. Pushing her in, he said good night before leaving. Riza smiled at his politeness before locking up and going to bed. Outside, Roy made his way home in the white snow. Inside, the old Roy still walked through blood wine snow. He knew it would take time, but he was willing to deal with it, just like her.
The next morning was quiet and Roy Mustang wasn't in the mood for paperwork. His First Lieutenant looked ready to shoot him any minute now. All the sudden, the rest of the Mustang subordinates entered. They all sat down only to hear a clicking of a safety being turned off getting their attention. Mustang quickly dug his head into the paperwork. Knowing they deserved it, so if he didn't see it, he wouldn't have to talk to her about it. The Colonel was going at a pretty good pace by the time several rounds from a pistol were fired. Hysterical screaming soon followed suit. Roy smirked to himself, maybe next Christmas he break tradition again and ask out a lovely blonde Lieutenant to dinner.
Merry Christmas!