Setting: Half of it pre-Ishval, the other post-Ishval.

Sch-warning: Nothing bad. But it's not squeaky clean, either.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA… yet.

Author's Notes: Just a little drabble. Enjoy.

Feedback: If you love me, then review.

Though it may be hard to believe, but English class was a personal favorite of Roy Mustang.

It was his senior year at his all boys' academy when he discovered the wonders of the world of literature. His teacher was a woman by the name of Agatha Wilson, or 'Miss Wilson'. She was by far the youngest teacher at the academy but by no means was she any less strict; it had been said that she was the harshest teacher there. And, for some odd reason, Roy was enamored with her.

Every day, she would walk into the classroom, her long, jet black hair clipped up and her brown leather briefcase tightly clutched in her hand. The students would see her and immediately take their seats quietly. Placing her briefcase on the solid oak desk, she would turn around, fix her black skirt, and say the same thing she said every day:

"Good morning, class. I hope you read the assigned chapters last night, because there's a test on them in just a minute."

A chorus of groans would always begin but Roy just smiled to himself. He had heard his friend, Maes Hughes, moan about the tests only once and that was only because he had found himself a pretty little girlfriend who lived in East City by the name of Glacier and dedicated a great deal of his time writing to her. But Roy, even then known as a ladies' man, managed to do all of his English assignments. It was his way of subtly wooing the older woman since he could not devise any other method to do so.

Often, Miss Wilson would give long lectures, her burgundy reading glasses hanging from a thin chain around her neck while managing to put some of her students asleep. When she noticed them, she'd reach to her desk and bring forth a large wooden ruler, never faltering in her lecture. Her voice was crisp and clear as she slammed the wooden ruler against the sleeping student's desk, immediately waking him. Roy, however, never fell asleep; she would hold him in disregard if he did so.

Once in awhile, Roy would challenge her views with that of his own. She would smile softly; she craved a cerebral conversation with her students who either didn't possess the intellect or the will to speak up. But during one lecture, he did not speak up. Instead, he thought over her lecture:

"There is a difference between commitment and loyalty. Commitment is something one must do, even though you don't necessarily believe in it. Loyalty, however, sprouts from one's emotions. It can't be faked; it just comes naturally. I believe it's the more romantic of the two, if you were to ask me."

By the end of his school year, Roy had determined that he felt something more than lust for his teacher. And he was willing to prove it.

On his final day of school, Roy approached her after class when his fellow students had emptied the classroom. She was behind her desk, the burgundy glasses perched at the peak of her nose, organizing several papers when she saw him standing there, his books under one arm. She smiled politely.

"Here for more homework, Mr. Mustang? It's not what someone wants on their final day of school." She teased, opening her briefcase and setting her papers inside. Roy smirked and replied, "I enjoyed your class." She never faltered as she closed the briefcase, simply responded, "As I've seen; you did well this year, both you and your friend, Mr. Hughes, when he wasn't writing notes."

Roy chuckled; the said notes were always to that girl, Glacier. Usually, when Miss Wilson caught a student writing notes, she'd take it and tape it to the outside of her door for all to see. But with Maes, she'd briefly look it over and then rest it on her desk, telling him to wait until after class to get it back. Roy would always smile; the woman was a romantic and couldn't help but think it cute that Maes would go out of his way to write to a girl who lived thirty miles away.

"I really enjoyed your lectures, even if no one else did. They were thought provoking." He said coyly. After weeks of careful consideration, he came down to one factor; he wanted his English teacher. Bad. And, being lady killer Roy Mustang, if he wanted a woman, he got her.

"Well, that's their goal, Mr. Mustang. I'm glad I accomplished something this year." Miss Wilson remarked, walking from behind her desk and towards him, her briefcase in hand. Roy was several inches taller than her, having to look down when talking to her, her glasses now hanging from her neck and resting on her chest.

Roy scratched his head, giving her his trademark grin. "I'm going to Central City tomorrow." He said, changing the subject. She smiled. "I've heard. They say you're quite an alchemist, Mr. Mustang. It must be true." She replied in a softer version of her usual monotone.

"However," Miss Wilson began in a stronger tone, "you know my opinion on the military and the recent happenings in Ishval. I read some things when I attended university about the military using alchemists in dire circumstances. There isn't a lot about it, but since you're willing to enter the military during the conflict in Ishval, I felt it necessary to tell you." Roy chuckled. 'Always the humanitarian'. He thought to himself. "Thanks." He replied, slowly leaning in. She, however, just smiled softly. 'Now's your chance, ol' boy.' Roy's free hand cupped her chin and brought it closer to him, allowing him to kiss her, his tongue brushing against her lower lip.

Miss Wilson immediately pulled away, horrified, her shaking hand gingerly touching her thin lips, the recent event playing over in her mind. She looked at him briefly before looking away, the words caught her in throat. Roy blinked, confused. 'Why is she looking at me that way? Doesn't… doesn't she want me like I want her?' He tried to reason in his head.

"Roy," she said quietly, catching his attention; she never called him by his first name, "I have a fiancé…" Roy lowered his head, nodding slightly. "I see; you're committed to him. I get it." He croaked, turning away. A hand placed itself on his shoulder, causing him to turn his head. It was Miss Wilson's hand, the said woman attempting to smile. "Mr. Mustang, I thought you were paying attention during my lectures."

He raised an eyebrow which only caused her to sigh. "I'm not with him because I feel its time for me to settle down and it's convenient. I love my fiancé and I would do anything for him. I like you, Roy; you're a good looking and intelligent young man. But I'm loyal to my fiancé and one day, I hope you find a girl who'll make you feel the same way." She explained to him and to his surprise, kissed him on the cheek.

She began walking away when she stopped at the threshold of the door and turned around. "Try not to sleep around too much, Mr. Lady Killer," she retorted slyly, clearly indicating that she'd heard of his 'conquests', "it doesn't impress the women who actually care for you." And with that, she left, leaving Roy in her classroom, alone.

It was over a decade later when Roy thought of this incident again. The Ishval conflict had been long over and had left Roy Mustang a hero. His reputation with the ladies had only intensified, making him a sort of myth. He really didn't care for these labels (well… maybe except his lady killer title) but a good arose from this. During his time in Ishval he met the pretty sniper with a deadly shot known as Riza Hawkeye.

After the conflict in Ishval ended, she was put under his command. She was intelligent, on task, and, in his opinion, damned gorgeous. And he thought her just that until she grew out her hair and pinned in up in the same manner as his former English teacher, Miss Wilson. It was here that his infatuation began. Roy would often compare his lieutenant with his former teacher and had discovered the only major difference between the two was their taste in tea (Miss Wilson always drank cinnamon while Hawkeye preferred lemon). Other days he would just gaze at her from the corner of his eye, ignoring his work. It wasn't long before he realized that his feelings for his lieutenant were as strong, if not, stronger, as the ones he held for Miss Wilson.

It was a Thursday night when Roy had managed to finish his overtime work, despite the late hour. He was retrieving his long, black overcoat when he turned himself around, looking at Riza, who was currently organizing the papers on her desk. "Let me walk you home, Lieutenant." He said calmly. She continued organizing her desk, not bothering to return the gaze, as she responded, "No, thank you, Colonel. You go ahead. I'll be leaving soon."

Roy held up his hand in protest. "I insist. It wouldn't be very gentlemanlike not to walk a lady home." He replied. Riza paused as her busy hands decelerated, thinking quietly to herself. "Well," she began slowly, searching for the appropriate words, "only if it's not too much trouble for you, sir…" Roy smiled as Riza turned off the lamp on her desk and picked up her messenger bag, situating it over her shoulder. She began walking towards her superior, who flicked the lights off and closed the door behind him.

The two officers walked down the hushed streets of the city in silence. Roy glanced at Riza through the corner of his eye and concealed a smile. "Lieutenant, may I ask you a question?" He began, his head briefly turning to her. Riza's expression did not falter as she replied, "Of course, sir."

He cleared his voice. "You've been under my command for awhile now, yes?" Roy initiated in a professional manner. Riza tilted her head down as she replied, "Since the end of the Ishval conflict." Roy nodded as they passed the local bakery, whose lights began to dim. The colonel dug through his overcoat, bringing forth a gold leaf pocket watch and opened it, observing the time.

Eleven thirty pm. It was late, to say the least. Roy slipped the pocket watch back into his pockets as he and his lieutenant turned a corner. "It's true that I pretty much lack work ethic," He continued, but before Riza could respond, he went on, "Don't answer that. I know I'm a slacker. I have unrealistic goals for someone in my position and yet you continue to stand by me. You probably could've surpassed me in ranking years ago, Lieutenant, and here you are, allowing me to walk you home."

"Your statements are true, sir, and I couldn't agree more." Riza remarked, her hands on her messenger bag, "However, it's not my goal to rise through the ranks of the military. My objective is to help you to do that, sir, nothing more." Roy suppressed himself from chuckling. "Always straight to the point, aren't you Lieutenant? You've pretty much answered my question before I had the chance to ask. I'm glad you're committed to my goal." He said, half satisfied.

Riza ceased walking. "Commitment is a vague term, sir." She stated. Roy raised his eyebrow and bit his lip from smiling. "Oh, care to explain?" He asked, beginning to walk again. The lieutenant breathed deeply and continued, "When you commit, you drive yourself to perform something, but you don't necessarily like or believe in it. My dedication to helping you isn't commitment; it's loyalty."

They stopped walking in front of a small, quaint building that resembled the other apartment complexes in the city. Riza's hand reached toward the door when she felt Roy's hand gently caress her own. Roy gazed at her and smiled softly. "Thank you, Lieutenant." He admitted quietly. Placing his other hand on her shoulder, Roy pulled her closer to him and leaned in, gently kissing her cheek.

Roy pulled away, still smiling. Riza stared blankly, her cheeks blushing ferociously. She tried desperately to speak but found it futile. The colonel turned himself around and began walking away. Managing to locate a portion of her voice, Riza called out, "S-sir!"

But he only raised his hand, not bothering to turn around. "Good night, Lieutenant." He replied, humor in his voice. Riza stood outside her apartment building, lightly touching the area where Roy had kissed her. After a moment, she smiled and diverted her attention to the door, to which she entered and closed it behind her.

Fin.
Well, it's about time I finished this mo'fo! Wrote this to The Mars Volta- "At the Drive In". Took me only a bajillion years. Blame it on school. Spanish III and Chemistry will be the death of me. By the way, I should go and do that Chem homework considering I got a 51 on my first Chem test 'sweat drops'.

Hehe, I'm like living on LiveJournal at the moment. Met a lot of writers (whom I adore) on there 'has been spending oodles of time talking with GaluxKitty'. If you're a part of LJ, feel free to friend me. 'Mi feo perro, su feo perro'. Haha, I'm misusing the Spanish language again 'inserts smiley face with sunglasses'.

Oh, and thanks to GaluxKitty for helping me clarify the difference between commitment and loyalty. She's super awesome.

Anywho, leave a review and tell me what you think.

Yours truly,

Hola-Meg-a-Cola