Threats

He was soaked; drops of water slid through his hair, down his brow and flattened onto the floor. His breath was visible in the winter air. His body shaking and his breathing livid, he gripped the edge of my door frame before asking me politely if he could come in.

"Yes Sir," I said as I turned to lead the way into my kitchen. "Please come in," I heard him shut the front door and sigh loudly. I surveyed his wet figure as his eyes dashed around my home; his face was flushed and the bags under his eyes grew more distinct as he came into my bright home, his slacks stuck to his legs and his drenched coat hung over his arm-dripping into a newly made puddle of water on my floor. His dark eyes settled and he looked relieved.

"Ah warmth," he breathed.

"Sir, don't take this to offense," I said "But why are you here?" I watched him quizzically as he lowered himself into a chair at my little table. He began to unbutton his drenched shirt and I found it physically difficult to remove my eyes from the many curves and grooves in his stomach.

"Is it not right for me to rush to my Lieutenants house in the middle of the night?" he raised an eyebrow and gave me a crooked smile. Any other day I would have smiled back and let it go, but something about his eyes hinted to me that he was distressed. "I mean, maybe I missed you." He bent back in his chair and stretched his arms out behind him.

"I have known you long enough to know when you are lying, Sir." I said.

"Oh really?" he righted himself in his chair and a playful grin appeared on his face.

I ignored him. "Would you like some tea? It's very cold outside and I'm assuming you need to warm up."

"That would be wonderful," he said as he began taking his shirt completely off. The water from his hair slid down into the contours of his abdomen as he shook his head. "Could I have a towel, Lieutenant?"

"You're stalling," I glared at him.

"Please, it's getting cold." his eyes bore into mine pleadingly and I gave in. I grabbed the dish towel off the stove and threw it in his face."That was quite unnecessary," he began rubbing the cloth through his dark hair. When he finished he laid the towel over his shoulders, hung his jacket and shirt over the chair next to him and folded his hands over one another in his usual habitual way.

"What?" I snapped as he watched me fire up my stove and start his tea.

"You're angry that I'm here." he said.

"No, I'm angry that you won't tell me why you're here Sir."

"I told you why." He kicked his shoes onto the floor. Was he planning to stay all night?

"You did not," I retorted. "You lied."

"Now how could I lie to a beautiful face like that?" he inquired playfully.

I rolled my eyes dramatically at him as the water began to steam on the stove. I grabbed a tea bag, plopped it into the water and began to stir.

"I guess I was important enough to bother in the middle of the night but I'm not important enough to hear the reason I was disturbed." I sounded harsher than I meant.

"Mhm," he mumbled. This was getting annoying. I busied myself with his freshly brewed tea so I wouldn't throw something harder than a towel at him. I heard him chuckle a little at my jerky movements of frustration.

I grunted and was half way through a monologue of why he was so rude, when my feet entangled themselves in one another and-in my attempt to keep myself standing and not fall on my face-my hand landed on my heated stove.

"Dammit," I snapped, and yanked my hand away.

"How did you do that?" suddenly he was standing in front of me-observing my damaged hand.

"I guess I'm only graceful on a battlefield." I said bitterly as I watched him reach around me to turn on my faucet. He ignored my comment and gently placed my hand under the cool water and I winced.

"It only burns for a second," he assured me. He stood behind me and I could feel his muscle against my back. His arm rested against mine as his hands gently turned my hand over in the water. I inhaled slowly; trying to keep my breathing even.

"That's quite a burn." he turned the water off and surveyed my hand again. "It'll blister," he whispered. "That'll make it hard for you to pull a trigger..." I wound around to face him and snatched my hand away.

"What are you saying?" I demanded. "Why the hell are you here?" I was tired of him dancing around in my kitchen-all secretive and strained.

"You should probably take a leave for a few days...maybe a week or two." he ignored me and I felt my face getting hot as he spoke. "Give that time to heal."

"I'm. Not. Taking. Any. Leave. Mustang." I hissed.

"Of course I should stay with you." he went on slowly, disregarding what I said. "What with your need to protect me..." he watched my reaction carefully.

A heated bulge began to form in the pit of my stomach and for the first time in a long time, I was frustrated enough to hit him. Unfortunately, yelling would have to suffice.
It's not often he and I are alone, so it's rare when I get to let him have it. I faked being calm, it always scared him most: like the quiet before the storm.

"Roy Mustang," I began "if you do not tell me what is going on right now I swear I will-" I stopped. Suddenly I was in his arms and he was speaking fast and low-I could barely make out what he was saying.

"Please forgive me," he pleaded. "It's all my fault. It's my fault. It..." He was stumbling over his words.

I tried to pull away from him but his arms only tightened their hold on me. "Sir," I grunted. "What are you talking about?"

He released me, leaned against my counter and buried his face in his hands. He stood like that for a few minutes-quiet-so I jumped when he finally spoke.

"It's my fault." He choked. "I'm so sorry..."

"I'm confused," I whispered. "Why are you sorry?"

"I'm here because I was told something terrible was going to happen; or had already happened." He said through the gaps in his fingers.

"Terrible? For who?" I was calm, keeping my composure.

"A few weeks ago I was asked a question by a few men in my sector," he looked up at me now, gauging my reaction. "They asked me to teach them flame alchemy." I was horrified at this and was glad he couldn't see my facial expression, because I was sure my face had contorted into something far from pretty.

"What did you say?" I spoke carefully, slowly.

"I told them to get out of my office. They told me that if I didn't teach them, they would quit. I waved them off and as they were leaving one of them told me I would 'pay'." he took his face from his hands and grabbed either side of my shoulders.

"There were three state alchemists I dismissed in my office that day. I thought nothing of it." he swallowed. "But twelve state alchemists quit that week. Again, I ignored the sign. I wasn't worried...until..." he paused. I waited; just staring at his face-which looked as though he were about to cry.

"Tonight," he went on. "I was confronted outside my apartment by a former state alchemist named Jerry Lambright. He was one who quit, and I recognized him as the man who spoke most about the flame alchemy, the one who told me I would pay." his voice hitched in his throat.

"I'm sorry," he squeezed my shoulders tightly. "I should have looked into it, should have arrested him for threats..." he hung his head and I stared at the wall opposite of me until his face slowly broke my view. I watched his lips move but didn't hear anything. He shook me lightly, "Lieutenant?"

"Yes?" I said, breaking out of my trance.

"Did you hear me?" I shook my head. "He told me to come check on you, told me if you weren't dead when I got there, you would be dead soon." his voice quivered a little on the words "you" and "dead".

I sighed in relief and he cocked his head, his expression one of extreme worry. I gave a small laugh.

"I don't find it funny," his anger flared up immediately.

"I thought it was much worse than that," I said

"How much worse could it get." he replied flatly.

"For a second there, I thought they were threatening you." and suddenly I felt better. I was the one who might die, not my General.

My General, who looked absolutely tortured over my reaction. I watched his eyes grow big, and clamped my eyes shut as the wave of scolding came over me.

Author note: I have been working on this all week. Haven't written in a while, and I like this. Please, leave feedback. It would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks, -Katie