First Roy x Riza fic, so it took me a while to be happy with their personalities, even though I probably messed them up a ton. I had no plan for this fanfiction, so it took some time to come up with, and other then that, I hate the beginning. Reviews are appreciated!

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It was the first day of forever; laces of cream and azure leaping with cascading spirals, they would descend and snap at the Colonel's feet, taunting his date's rhythmic actions. Some rumors smartly addressed to minors said that Riza had fashioned the dress herself, others hushing them with the reality of such short given time to prepare; it was inhuman to have finished anything that quickly against the comical hysteria of ceremonial winter evening's layout.

There were still aftershocks from the awe of seeing the prompt second in command officer dressed so appropriately for the formal, having discarded her usual military attire, and let alone by the side of the Colonel himself. Many would have expected the ritual girl-on-each-arm routine at full force for Roy, but enough had guessed the attraction between the two and let them be.

But now he was aloud to retain her in his arms as they glided along the dance floor, the slow melody luring her head to his chest, adjoining heart beats. They were much too old for this childish crush, and with their military positions creating something of a barrier between the two, it was absurd.

He smelled of the same old cologne, a few strands of charcoal hair falling over his matching eyes, filled with an unusual uncertainty with the woman he had chosen.

The others ones were nobodies. She was a - very pretty - somebody.

She was fragranced with a casual strictness, mixed with a faint mist of lavender; blond hair done in a tight bun and bangs framing her face. Her amber eyes lay half lidded, shimmering lips emotionally undecipherable.

He decided to speak up. "Hawkeye, I…"

"Riza."

That abruptness caused him to loose his footing, but it had broken the ice, and enabled themselves to get caught up in the song's reciting of love. For a long while it was just the two, caught in the infectious trance of rhythm's permission to dispose every thought, every memory and slice of knowledge about themselves. They were just two people, living separate lives with unconfessed loves.

"Mustang, I'm going to…"

"Roy." The mild taunting between the two was light and friendly.

"Roy," She paused as if to memorize the way his name sounded; it was softer, but the edges of her lips did not waver, "I'm going to freshen up."

He nodded her off before offering a small smile, and Maes had caught this event, thus approached with a raised eyebrow and wearing a light, amused expression.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Roy's eyes stalked the gun wielding woman with a hand in slack pocket, though a clear voice replied, "I don't expect you are without Gracia, Hughes."

Maes shrugged. "As long as I've got my Elysia," he nuzzled a photograph kept in a confided section of his wallet, "say, have you seen her in a bathing suit? She's sooo cut--"

Maes was one snap away from the dance formal theme changing from 'moonlit winter' to 'blood and gore'.

He pushed away the gloved hand at his neck and prodded his glasses back into position. "So have you told Hawkeye yet?"

"Tell her what?" Roy's tone was layered with suspicion.

"That you want to marry her."

"What gave you that idea?" That reply had not been expected, and his blush and stutter proved worthy to Maes' theory.

"Mustang, how long have we known each other?" Maes gave a thoughtful smile before tilting his head in and keeping yellow eyes on Roy's shoulder. "She's coming, you had better have a plan."

And then he was gone and Roy was left with one thing left on his mind.

"Riza, how about another dance?"