Post ep. 51 with obscure references to events in a few episodes. Those that get them will get extra enjoyment outta this story. )
"" – Spoken
'' – Thoughts
It was getting late again, something that was all too common lately, and one Brigadier General Roy Mustang hated that fact more than a wet glove. Sighing in exasperation, Mustang sat back heavily in his chair as he let the pen fall. He made a face at the remaining papers stacked in front of him, listening to the medals and various decorations on the thick jacket swinging on the back of his chair settle from his harsh and sudden movement.
He'd removed it some time ago, though he couldn't remember when. It had still been light out, that much he knew as he turned from the dark window and the sprinkling of lights beyond it. Oh sure, he was finally in a position where he could escape the consequences of all his actions… well, almost, but damn the work that came with it!
He complained to himself by way of a loud moan and brought his hands up to rub exhaustedly at his face. Feeling the rough texture from the bit of growth there, he sighed yet again at his luck. If by some miracle he managed to get through the rest of these papers before one o'clock and make it to the bar before it closed, he wouldn't be anywhere near his outstanding self for any of the beautiful women that might be there.
"Why me!?" he whined, falling forward to bury his face in his hands. Peeking through his fingers at the two stacks before him, he knew no amount of lightning speed signing would get all that done in forty minutes. Resigned to spending his night at the office and away from the warm body of a gorgeous girl, he re-immersed his face into his palms.
"Perhaps you should retire for the night, sir," a gentle voice broke in.
Jumping up and recoiling in his chair, Roy slowly removed his hands from the handle of the drawer containing his gloves, only managing to steady his voice somewhat before he replied. "Lieutenant, what are you still doing here?" He'd thought he was alone.
Looking him briefly in the eyes as she crossed before his desk on the way to hers, Black Hayate in tow, she stated in that very matter of fact tone she was known for, "My job, sir."
She must have been letting Hayate have a break. Smiling to himself, he turned to look out the window again, the lights little flames in the night that drew his attention once again. Twisting his head around to look at the clock once more, he bowed his head at his thoughts and slowly swiveled his chair around again.
"I'll be fine, Lieutenant," a tender smile of his own in place. "And I should be able to take care of myself," he added as his smile transformed into his cocky trademark.
"Yes, sir." Picking up a book from atop her desk, Riza motioned Hayate to stay and walked over to the couch. Slipping her feet from her shoes as she reached the furthest corner from both Roy and the door, she folded her legs up under her, laying out first her gun then her book on her lap.
Roy had twitched as she put her gun within easier reach, but other than that, he had simply taken in everything else with a calculating eye. How she so easily removed her feet from those shoes, how folding her legs together under her caused the uniform skirt to just come up past her knees, and how she fit into the corner of the couch…
His lips turned slightly downwards at their corners as he thought on how she was wearing the skirt version of the uniform more often, now. When he really thought on it, she could afford to do so these days. Since they weren't sent out into the field nearly as often as when he'd been of lower rank, she could use that luxury instead of saving it for purely formal functions. If she even considered it a luxury or worth saving…he knew he did. Pants had allowed her far more freedom of movement, and Riza being the practical subordinate she was, had clearly thought of that long before it would have occurred to him.
He'd noticed one thing right away, though, skin. And if it was anything Roy noticed first about girls, it was that. Riza turned the page and Roy sighed as his blank speculation was interrupted and returned to the stacks in front of him.
Riza looked over at Roy out the sides of her eyes as he once again sighed and rubbed at his tired face and eyes with frustration before giving in to another yawn and stretching. She continued to watch him until he sat back in his chair and looked at the still remaining papers before him with half-lidded eyes. Doing the rounds with her eyes, she passed over his desk, stacks of papers and a half empty whiskey glass with the ice long since melted; off to the left of his desk where Black Hayate lay sleeping next to hers, then shooting her view over to the clock, three forty-six, before coming full circle to end on the Brigadier General whose eyes were now fighting to stay even half-lidded.
Looking back down to her book, Riza spoke quietly, but even so, she winced at how loud it still sounded, "Go to sleep, sir." She continued to read and turning a page, she reasoned, "You need to get some sleep before the next day starts."
Predictably, Roy jumped slightly at the sudden noise, soft as it was. Turning his horribly fuzzy gaze to her, he asked half seriously in his even fuzzier state, "Didn't I tell you to go home?"
Not looking up, she kept to her book and answered, "No, sir. I don't recall such an order being issued."
Slanting his mouth at the technicality, Roy dropped it as he broke to deal with a yawn. And squinting at the clock, he whispered rhetorically, "Is that really the time?" Immediately moving his hand from his mouth, he ran it through his hair, pausing to scratch for a moment, then dropping it back into his lap. "Yeah, I should," he said quietly after a few moments.
Placing both hands on the desk, he slowly pushed himself up, stretching as he did so before coming to stand, where he threw both arms up and behind to work out the stiffness. Covering the latest yawn in a half-hearted attempt, Roy turned to pull his coat from the back of the chair. Letting it fall over his left arm, he moved away from his desk and toward his Lieutenant's location, stopping before her and looking sleepily down at her. "Are you coming, Lieutenant?"
Somehow, he'd still managed to have a teasing lilt to his voice. "I think it pointless, sir, to return home for only a few hours sleep when it'd be much more practical to remain here rather than waste time traveling."
Ah, he thought warmly, his Riza efficient as ever. "What, do you propose, we do about sleeping arrangements then?" he laughed softly, meaning it as a joke. But she replied by patting the cushion with her left hand, before bringing it back up to flip to the next page. For some reason that had silenced Roy, but he put it down to his being too tired to come up with a smart ass retort.
Nodding to himself, he reached out his left arm to deposit his heavy jacket on the back of the coach and plopped down a comfortable distance from her in the middle with a heavy exhale. Damn, he was tired. He let his head fall back, staring at the ceiling with mouth open.
"Lay down, sir."
"Aa?" he muttered incoherently as he tilted his head to look at her. Riza's right hand settled on her gun, lifting it from her lap and placing it on the armrest. Holding her book up, she shifted her legs so that her feet were in the corner, then patted her lap. Roy's eyebrow rose involuntarily at that and he closed his mouth. He lifted his head up but was unable to lower the eyebrow as he stared at her, trying to read anything from her.
Looking from her face to where her hand rested and back again, he then turned to his left to see the door. It was still open, from when Riza had returned with Black Hayate, presumably. Smiling to himself somewhat, he placed his toes at the other heel and pulled off one shoe, then the other. Looking over to Riza one last time, he swung legs up onto the couch, pausing to kick at the door over the far arm rest and scowling as it didn't fully shut.
Putting his feet up and looking over his shoulder at her, he slowly lowered himself backwards and slowed even more when his hair brushed against her leg, straining his abdomen. He felt the air move as she lifted the book up farther to ensure clearance, and lowered the rest of the way down. He didn't know why he was so apprehensive. This was Hawkeye! But maybe that was the problem, because any other woman…
He used his vantage point to observe her. This was definitely a new angle. No, wait. There was that time at the Fuhrer's house, but he'd been so out of it for the few seconds he had been conscious that he couldn't really count that. He was surprised he'd remembered it at all, really. Suddenly stricken with fear that he wasn't only remembering, his gaze shot down to his torso and his hands hurriedly searched for the numerous holes from Archer's shots. 'Archer….that bastard,' the hateful thought came as he found no wounds or bandages.
His left hand reached up to his face, making sure the eye patch was really gone. It had only been taken off last week and he still forgot it wasn't there. Thank what ever that he hadn't lost it. The doctor had said it would still be some time before it was completely healed, but he was just glad to have full depth perception again and only occasionally did he have trouble focusing with it. The leg would be longer still, he knew, as he looked at the cane leaning against the desk.
Disturbed by his sudden jerking, Riza easily pulled away from her reading and looked down at the Brigadier General. She watched as he pulled his hands from himself with a slight frown that deepened when she followed his gaze when he turned towards his desk. Guessing the lines of his thoughts as he continued to look at the cane, she noted his pinched expression before assuring him, "It'll be alright, sir," she said with heavy guilt.
His tight appearance eased as he saw her tense one. Closing his eyes, he gave a small sigh and scolded her, "I thought I told you not to look like that. We've already talked about this," he finished, smiling smugly up at her.
"Yes, sir," she answered matter-of-factly, but her expression did lessen. "Now go to sleep." She turned from his sharp eyes to focus on the collection of printed words in her right hand, her left falling upon the Brigadier General's brow to slowly sweep through the hair that so often fell over his dark irises. It had been as much to get him to drop the conversation as much as it was to get him to go to sleep.
She'd have to wake him soon so he would have at least a few minutes to tidy up before the next work shift. If he had been upset at being diverted, he was in no hurry to argue it judging by the relaxed set of his face she could see from the edge of her sight added with the rate of his breathing.
She finished the last two pages of the chapter before lightly placing the bookmark ribbon. And holding the book out of the way, she looked upon his relaxed face and let her hand wander while her mind examined the results. Pushing the boyish hair away from his even more boyish face, her fingers traced his eyebrows, slowly trailing from the left one down across his cheekbone then along his jaw line to flatten her hand against the side of his face.
She never thought she'd get to see, or feel, such a thing as a scruffy Roy Mustang. There was a time when she had long thought that didn't even exist. The man was as impeccable about his appearance as he was arrogant. She'd been with him a long time, and it wasn't until he obtained the rank of Colonel and the long days that came with it that she saw anything indicative of facial hair.
She loved him, really she did. From his boyish looks to the serious adult he could resemble when he was in full dress, his high points and dangerous ambitions, and from his oft-times arrogant pride and the times he was shot down. And the last thought made her laugh as it brought a couple of instances to mind. The first and foremost, for some reason, being the acceptance of the mock assessment battle of Flame and Full Metal.
She used the backs of her fingers to stroke lightly against his irregularly bearded cheek, trying ever harder to keep the laughter at that remembrance from becoming loud enough to wake him. It wouldn't have been so hilarious if he just hadn't been such a condescending ass about the whole thing. But that was Roy.
He exhaled more heavily than usual and crossed his right hand over to scratch at the irritating growth there before it fell back onto his chest. Having dodged a run-in with his hand, Riza had rested her own hand in her lap after one more soothing pass through his bangs, intending to quiet him, and quickly flipped her book back open, though she watched him from the corner of her eye. Roy made some noise in his throat and resettled. Releasing her breath and gaze on him, she dove back into the book, or almost did before she caught a fleeting sight of Roy's eye snapping open.
'Damn,' she thought.
Looking around a bit disjointedly, Roy seemed to remember where he was and looked up at Riza's face, which turned to look directly at his as she felt him staring at her. "What are you still doing awake, Lieutenant?" came the firm question.
"Making sure you're asleep," she answered just as strongly.
Roy scowled at that and asked, "What time is it?"
"Still early, sir." She'd used 'early' so he'd know he still had time to sleep.
"Mm," he acknowledged wordlessly. "How long have I been out?"
"Only about twenty minutes."
"That means you have time to sleep, too."
She glanced at him sideways with a raised brow, waiting for some form of elaboration to at least flash in those deep eyes. And when he only looked at her with childish anger written upon his features, she turned back to her book. She'd gotten maybe four sentences farther before a shift of weight brought an arm before her that deftly snatched the book from her hands, snapping it shut, and the chilling breath in her ear.
"Sleep." She didn't dare turn her head for the discomfort that closeness would bring. But she did follow the book with her eyes as it flew a short distance to thud on the carpet, the noise enough to momentarily attract Black Hayate's attention before he lay his head down again. "There should be room for two here."
The inhalation at that suggestion probably should have been given more effort to bring under control as she felt the dirty smile spread across his face and likely his thoughts. Oh, the Brigadier General was a renowned womanizer, but their relationship had always been professional, albeit closer than most and especially so lately.
He had never done anything to jeopardize his position or make it seem as if something between them was possible. But there were times where little slips like this made her think otherwise and, worse yet, focus on her own feelings for this incorrigible man. Since the 'disappearance' of Fuhrer Bradley, they'd become something more than professional, she just couldn't figure out what that was, yet.
That time in the hospital when he'd reached out and touched her hair, that look and smile in the market place after he was released from the medical wing, and this instance. He was making her almost hope there might be a possibility for something other than work between them. But after he did that to her book?
"Fine." She blinked. Well, where the hell had that come from? She hadn't had the slightest intention to give in. 'Damn you, Roy.'
He had the most self-satisfying smile pasted onto his face as he instructed, "Good, now get that light."
Scowling as his arrogance once again made an appearance, she reached her right hand over and flipped the lamp switch off, bringing about total darkness as she removed the only source of light but for the too faint twinklings out the window. She started to slide further down the couch but froze as he guided her with experienced hands.
She knew he was trying to help, maybe keep her from falling off, but he was just making her tense. It wasn't just the physical nature of his hands, but the thought behind why they were so experienced. Obviously, he felt that too, as he commented, "Relax, Lieutenant. I'm not gonna hurt you."
"I know," she told herself more than him. And as he pushed himself as far back into the couch as he could, she turned her back to him to face out the window. Their roles were ironically reversed as she hesitantly lowered her head onto the arm he positioned for their pillow, her hands folded together and tensely tucked between her cheek and his arm as she stared out wide-eyed at the lights.
She went rigid when his free left arm brushed against her back as he brought his hand up to her hair clip, removing it. It was impossible not to notice her tension, so he spoke softly in the hopes of relaxing her, "Don't you usually sleep with your hair down?" He felt her nod. "Well, then," he said as he used the fingers not holding the clip to somewhat brush out and loosen her hair, "it's down now."
She reopened the eyes she had closed in…she didn't even know what emotion, and removed her embedded teeth from her lip. Hoping to get her mind off everything going on within her and break the severe mood, Riza questioned on the only other thing that could turn this sour, "What if we oversleep?"
Disentangling his hand from her hair, he lifted it over her to drop the hair clasp onto the floor and then wrapped it lightly around her waist, which she tensed at yet again before incrementally returning to a lesser state. "Well, if Black Hayate or your internal clock don't wake us, I'm sure someone will." His tone had been reasonable, but she could see that smile again, and she could only sigh at it all.
She had continued to look out the window for a bit, eventually noticing the silence and his slow breaths. He was asleep, again, finally, and she allowed herself to completely relax, falling into a more comfortable stance. He gave a soft snort and she smiled as some hair that had been in his face flew up. An unconscious act of pulling her closer made her breath catch and she only let it go after all movement had ceased for a good several seconds.
She was so afraid of something. Was it just what could happen between them or to them? But perhaps the risk of outside discovery was well warranted if it meant three hours could be spent like this. Riza just didn't know, but she would decide after the sunrise.
Tee hee. I felt the urge to finally get an R&R fic out there after rewatching FMA. I do so love this pairing and have been completely obsessed with it recently. Why do I always fall for the pairings with such little fandom support!? TT Hmm, and why doesn't it feel like Roy and Riza? ;;
REVISED (slightly): I've broken up the paragraphs a bit more. I use an extremely high resolution and so things appear differently on my computer than on most others. O.o What look like okay, larg paragraphs on my screen end up taking practically the entire screen on normal monitors, so hopefully, this is much better.