Roy knew how to dance. It was useful when the military decided that it was going to throw balls and individuals like Roy, being a general and a State Alchemist, were required to make their presence known. In addition, he was known as a ladies' man, meaning he would have to be able to impress the multiple women that practically draped themselves across his arm at those parties. Even if none of those women were the one he truly desired to be on his arm.

Dancing with these women now was something he only looked slightly for forward to than the original dance lessons he had received when he was only a boy of ten. Which was the polite way of saying that he had loathed those dance lessons.

He had already been ostracized from his peers by his Xingese heritage and for growing up the way he had under his Aunt Chris' care. He had no reason to add fuel to the fire and give the other students more to throw at him when they cornered him against the trash cans. So when his aunt announced that he would be spending Thursday nights for the next indeterminable amount of time attending dancing lessons, Roy pleaded and attempted to make his aunt understand what torture she would be submitting too. She had only brushed his concerns aside with a rough laugh and told him that Mustang's knew how to dance in the proper manner. Roy's own father had attended his own dance lessons when he was a boy, and had dragged his own feet complaining as well.

The point of his aunt's story was that his father had still gone to the lessons, and it was because of those dancing skills, or lack of most likely, that he had caught Roy's mother's eye. Thus, ensuring that Roy came into being.

That was the point in the conversation where young Roy would slap his hands to cover his ears and storm from the room, not wanting to hear anything about how his parents met, or how they brought Roy into the world. It a combination of the pre-pubescent aversion to being told stories of their parents lives, and Roy's own desire to have nothing to do with his parents. They were dead and gone, never to return. He couldn't even really remember them outside of the one photograph his aunt had displayed above the fireplace.

But he had gone to those lessons. And they had done him well enough up to this point. He managed to charm the wives of the generals at the military balls and ensure his reputation as a philandering upstart. It even allowed him to stay on his feet at Maes' wedding all those years ago. Even when he was half-drunk off his ass, his footwork on the steps to the waltz suffered no ill will. Although by that point in the night he had found his then Second-Lieutenant Hawkeye and clung to her side for the rest of the night, and she may have done some assisting with the steps. He had given her a few pointers on how to dance when he had caught her attempting to dance to the radio on her own.

But they did nothing for him now.

Because whatever dance that Fullmetal was doing with his new wife out on the dance floor was not in his repertoire. Even the sound of the music was something outside of his experience. It was catchy, he would give them that. His foot was tapping underneath the table to the beat was an unmistakable fact. But he could figure out what their feet were doing.

It was evident from what he could glimpse from between the people walking in between him and the dance floor and through the swirling skirts that the ladies were wearing, everyone was taking half-steps. Which didn't register with any dance that he knew.

"Is everything alright, General?"

Roy shook his head and broke his steady gaze towards the dancers on the floor. Perhaps he could puzzle out their movements later. He turned to look towards his ever-present companion.

Riza was smiling down at him. Her cheeks were lightly dusted with a pink blush, whether from the alcohol she had consumed over the course of the day or from the dancing he wasn't sure. But he knew that it looked rather fetching on her. Not that he had ever needed to say it out loud. She always to tell what he was thinking when he looked at her in a certain way.

Sure enough, her little blush deepened slightly.

"I was wondering what the dance Fullmetal was doing. I haven't seen it before." He paused for a moment before continuing. "And no titles today. I thought we agreed to that this morning."

"My apologies."

Riza settled in one of the empty chairs at the table he was seated at. She leaned to peer over at the dance floor and watch the steps Edward and Winry were making as they laughed around the floor. Riza probably would have gotten a better view of what was happening had she remained standing, but she didn't need a better view to know what the dance was.

She reached across the table and grabbed Roy's glass of water. His eyebrow rose in challenge at her behavior and she rose to it. Roy caught a small glimpse of her smirk as she rose the glass to her lips and she drank from his glass. The corners of her eyes crinkled at her amusement.

Roy watched as the condensation rolled down the glass along her fingers.

Riza finished off the water in his glass and set it back down on the table. Her amused look at his face never changed as she watched him across the table. Roy swallowed. She laughed quietly at his look of confusion before turning away to watch the dancers on the floor.

Taking the opportunity her distraction gave him, Roy studied the way his Captain had dressed for the occasion. Despite her proclamations that dresses were useless and not practical in the slightest, it was what she had chosen to wear for the occasion. It was sleeveless, but the collar was high, more practical to cover up her tattoo. The skirt stopped just below the knees and flared slightly when she turned sharply.

His moment of reflection was interrupted when Riza's laugh bubbled up from inside her again and she turned back to look at Roy.

"I thought a famed womanizing general, such as yourself, would be able to recognize a polka when you saw one. What, with all your extensive knowledge from your dancing education and all those military balls you've attended."

Roy blinked. She was being extraordinarily bold with her behavior today. Was this the alcohol talking? Or the fact they were surrounded by people who knew at least some layer of what they attempted to keep secret from the outside? No. It must be the alcohol. There were still people there who didn't know them, and while they were in civvies—Fullmetal's insistence—they didn't know what connections the other guests had.

Then again, Riza hadn't had any more than two glasses of wine over the course of the day.

A hand entering his frame of vision brought his thoughts back down to the ground. He followed the hand up to the face of the individual that offered. Riza smiled gently down at him. For the first time since he had known her, she changed the earrings she wore. That fact alone surprised him. He had once overheard her saying that she would never take them off due to a sentimental attachment upon the studs. A small part of him had puffed with pride that day when he heard her saying that. Not that he would ever admit it.

"May I have this dance then, Mr. Mustang?" Riza's smile was a little bit wider now.

"You know how to do the jiggy-hop thing they're doing?"

"Of course, sir. My mother and father made sure to teach me when I was younger. It was a tradition to dance at the harvest festival in the village where I grew up."

For a moment, Roy was taken back to his years learning under Master Hawkeye. There was a vague memory of attending one of the festivals there, although he was unsure of which one, and a large crowd of people dancing. Roy had spent nearly the whole time thinking about the problem that had been assigned to him by Master Hawkeye that day, and there wasn't much brain capacity for really comprehending what was happening around him.

Not that he really had the brain capacity to understand what was happening to him right then.

"Don't leave the woman hanging ya Bastard!" Shouted Fullmetal from his place on the dance floor as he spun past their table. "Dance with the lady!"

Roy shot Edward a sharp look but it was missed as Edward had already danced his way clear of Roy's glare. He grumbled to himself about nosy brats that didn't know when to keep their noses out of anything, but took his precious subordinate's hand and allowed her to drag him out to the dance floor. By the time they had made their way through the tables and the people talking with drinks in their hands, the song that the band had been playing had ended. Some couples left the floor laughing, no doubt heading to quench their thirst.

Still, Riza lead him to the floor and arranged the placement of his hands in preparation for the dance. One hand was held in hers, the other was directed to rest at the small of her back. Roy swallowed as she took a half step closer to him.

"It'll be easier if you're not holding me out at arm's length," she said.

"You know, it's usually the man that leads the woman when dancing," Roy pointed out, attempting to calm his suddenly spiking heart rate.

"If you keep sweating like that, you're going to make yourself useless," she answered.

Roy swallowed but internally slapped himself. He was being stupid. This was a wedding. The guests that had been invited wouldn't care if he danced with Riza while making a fool of himself. Most of the guests had been on their side for the Promised Day or weren't even associated with the military and were Winry's automail friends.

Still, Roy couldn't help but glance around at the other people around him as he pulled Riza closer to him. None of the other dancers were looking anywhere but at the floor or their partners, attempting to catch their breath. The band was readying their instruments and were ready to begin. Roy saw the man on the accordion give the count and then the band were up and playing.

Riza took the first leading steps and Roy stumbled to keep up. He immediately looked down to see what her feet were doing to see if he could copy her movements. The ending result was his steps were a couple seconds behind hers, causing their dance to be disjointed. Roy knew that he looked stupid.

The catcalls from Fullmetal and the other subordinates that had come along with him told him as much.

His head jerked up to glare at his traitorous colleagues and he pulled his hand from Riza's grip. The hand he had on the small of her back drew her even closer to him.

But before he could express his displeasure with those mocking him, Riza caught his hand back in hers and redirected him to look at her instead. Her smile was amused still.

"Don't let yourself drop down to their childish behavior. You're their commanding officer, please maintain some decorum." Despite the amused smile on her face, the serious and professional nature she held much of the time slipped through, warning him about the line he was toeing.

Roy didn't bother to point out that he wasn't Edward's superior officer anymore.

"Just watch me. Staring at your feet won't help you learn the dance. The basic step is a half-step."

Roy looked at the others dancing around them doing fancy twirls and other steps.

"Don't even bother. Get the simple step done first, then perhaps later I could teach you some of those steps."

Foiled again.

Wait.

"So, you're going to teach me some of those other steps later?"

"Of course, sir. It is hard to believe that a man as talented as you wouldn't know to dance at occasions like this. And I can't allow for such a gap in your expertise to exist. Now should we get back to the dance?"

Roy nodded in agreement and they began moving again. This time, Roy made the effort to not look at their feet but at the face of the wonderful woman that was leading him. Her face was more at ease than he had seen in a while, and her shoulder-length hair was brushing her shoulders as they moved around the floor. Their movements weren't as smooth and polished as some of the other dancers, he still regularly stepped on something that interrupted that—largely his own feet—but he found he was enjoying himself. Making a complete fool of himself probably, but enjoying it.

Together they made their way around the floor, weaving in and out of other couples. Roy felt a little stupid, prancing around the way they were, but the smile on Riza's face grew as they moved across the dance floor. Roy relaxed and his smile grew seeing how Riza was enjoying herself. Not worried about consequences of their actions, nor devoting half her attention to their surroundings for threats. Or handing him more paperwork to fill out.

When their dance was done—both flushed in the face and sweaty—they walked away from the dance floor where they separated. Roy was instantly surrounded by his men and Riza walked off to grab water to drink.

"Did my eyes deceive me? Or was the captain leading you, rather than the other way around?" Havoc leaned back against the chair he was seated at, smirking through his unlit cigarette.

"Ah, don't give him such a hard time about it," Breda answered. "Everyone knows Hawkeye has the general whipped. Remember the time when he attempted to—."

"Yes, thank you Breda. We all remember well, and have no need to bring it up again."

"Wait, what happened?" Edward asked.

"Nothing that bears repeating at a wedding, Fullmetal. Shouldn't you go tend to your wife?"

Mentioning Winry derailed Edward's focus on finding out what had happened to convince the rest of Mustang's men that he was 'whipped' by Hawkeye. Silently Edward mouthed the words, 'my wife,' and looked around to find where Winry had walked off too. He found her by the drinks table talking with Hawkeye. His face softened when he saw her.

With what felt like a kick to the gut, Roy recognized that face. It was the same look he had seen on Maes' face when he had married Gracia all those years ago, a look of such open devotion and wonder. It was a look that Roy was near positive would never appear on his face. There were his goals that needed to be attended too and while he was one track, it was unlikely that he would be able to experience that happy ending his friends could.

With his mood effectively ruined, the rest of the wedding party faded into the background. Roy resumed his seat at the table he had been at before Riza had dragged him away to the dance floor. When the time came for the bride and groom to toss the bouquet and garter, Roy sat sullenly in his seat, despite the cajoling for him to get his ass off the chair and stand with the other single men. He was selfishly relieved when Riza wasn't the one to catch the bouquet. He didn't think he would be able to stomach the idea that she would be married next according to tradition. Not when he knew that she wouldn't do such a thing when there was still work to be done.

Elicia however was ecstatic at the flower bouquet she received and ran to show her mother the pretty flowers. Later she danced with Alphonse, who had the garter flung right in his face with purposeful intention.

After that, the party slowly tapered off. Families with young children and the older in age were some of the first to go. Then those who needed to board the train the next morning in order to return to their jobs. When the time came for Roy and Riza to return to their rented room in town, they made sure to stop and say their goodbyes and offer congratulations once more.

Roy shook Edward's hand firmly as Winry leapt forward to gather Riza in her arms. Roy watched as the younger blonde whispered something into his captain's ear that set the bride into a fit of giggles as Riza pulled back in surprise. The blush Roy had seen earlier that day was back.

"You deserve it," Edward said suddenly.

Roy turned his attention back to one half of the day's focus. Edward was looking at the two women standing a few meters away. A sad uptake of his mouth was on Ed's face.

"You both do. You both have done so much to help this country since what happened with Ishval. But,"—Ed turned to glare at the older man's protests—"it's not wrong. To want to live your life. To enjoy a little bit of it. I mean, isn't it exhausting to have to play the front all the time?"

Roy would never admit it, but it was tiring. Even if the need for subterfuge wasn't as desperately needed as it had been when he was only a colonel, pretending that he didn't want to be more than a superior officer and an old childhood friend was beginning to take its toll on him. But he could never ask her to do anything that would be against what she stood for. Even if it meant they could indulge in their selfish desires.

"Fullmetal—"

Edward raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I know, I know. You just need to be reminded of it. I'm sure Hughes would say the same."

Roy swallowed. The kid was right. Hughes would say the same. After all, it was what he had done after coming home. He had set everything aside to become the man that he wanted to be and needed to be for Gracia and Elicia.

Rather than pursue the thoughts that line of thinking would lead him down, Roy cleared his throat and made his farewell. He gathered his coat from Riza and together they began walking down the long road towards where they rented a room.

It had been all of what was left of the small inn's vacancies once Winry's closest friends from her time in Rush Valley got wind of her upcoming nuptial. So rather than sleeping on the dirt in one of the surrounding fields, they made do with the shared accommodations. There were at least two beds, so they didn't need to fight over who was sleeping in the armchair.

The moment they entered their room, Riza slipped her small heels from her feet and sat on her bed to rub them. Roy chose to hang up both of their coats, before sitting across from Riza on his own bed. He bent down to untie his shoes before tossing them aside. There was quiet between the two of them. Both were dwelling on the same thoughts, but neither had the confidence to speak them out loud.

The soft melody of jazz from the radio in the lobby floated through their open window. It was a familiar tune, popular with those back in Central. The song was requested to be aired almost to the point where it was overplayed, but the tune gave Roy an idea.

Standing up, he offered a hand down to Riza. She watched him warily.

"May I have this dance?" He asked.

He watched her throat bob as she swallowed before she rested her hand into Roy's. Their hands were a matching set. Both calloused, both scarred, both blood-stained. Slowly, he drew her up and wrapped his arms around her as they began their dance.

This time there were no steps to follow. No irregular beat to match. They could move at their own pace, regardless of the tempo of the music. Just the two of them. Roy and Riza. He drew the two of them closer together than they had been at Edward and Winry's reception. So close, that Riza rested her head upon his chest while he dropped his to rest against her soft blonde hair. Together they slowly spun in a circle, stocking feet barely leaving at the carpet as they swayed gently from side to side.

A/N: You know, for a prompt that was "May I have this dance?" there is very little dancing going on. And what could've (and probably should've) only been a few hundred words long, turned into 3000 plus words. Thanks for reading this far, and don't be afraid to leave me a review.