Disclaimer: We don't own FMA. We're pretty sure you don't either.

Summery: Lessons Learned: 1) Never trust an Elric with a crush. 2) Roy Mustang is much less of a ladies man than you think. 3) Never, ever, for the love of God, ask Maes Hughes for advice on love.

A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to Wolfclaimed's first fanfic! Wolfclaimed is a joint account between me (Moonclaimed) and Wolfborg007. This fic is actually an RP between the two of us that we loved too much not to convert into a fanfic. Can you tell which characters are played by who? Cookies if you can!

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Roy looked up, staring at the ceiling as he put off his paperwork. His mind was drifting, but at the same time it was focused on one thing, or rather... one person.

A gunshot rang out past the Colonel's head, the blonde gunslinger standing in her perfect uniform at the front of his desk. "Stop procrastinating, Sir. It's starting to pile up."

Roy sat up, "Of course, Lieutenant," he said, though he couldn't help but smirk with distinct amusement. No matter how much lead she put into his walls and past his head, he couldn't help but admire her.

Roy watched as the Lieutenant dismissed herself and went to deliver some papers. He smirked, just as the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Heya Roy!" Hughes trilled excitedly down the line, "I'll bet you'll never guess what my wonderful Elysia has done now!"

A vein in Roy's head pulsed as he clutched at the phone tightly. "Hughes... how many times do I have to tell you not to use the military line to brag about your kid?" he grumbled irritably.

He held his pen and continued doing his paperwork unwillingly; he wouldn't risk stopping, in case Hawkeye returned.

"But, Roy!" Maes exclaimed in horror, "If I didn't tell you about all the wonderful things my wonderful girls did, the sheer lack of their reigning glory in your life might lead you to suicide!"

He paused to let the other man contemplate this very real possibility. "I know what you're thinking. I would never fail you like that. And with your own terribly sad lack of a wife-"

Hearing about your life might lead me to suicide... Roy thought briefly to himself.

"I hope you have something important to tell me," He said, "AND I DON'T NEED A WIFE!!! Not that I have anyone in mind or anything..." His voice trailed off, as he knew that it was a blatant lie. He just hoped that this best friend wouldn't catch on.

But Hughes paused before a retort could ever touch his lips. The way Roy had just trailed off...

Well, Maes hadn't been made Lieutenant Colonel in the intelligence division of Central Headquarters for nothing. "Le gasp! Roy, you sly dog, you! Who's the lucky girl? And why haven't I heard all about her before? Oh, you'll finally know the splendor that is wedded bliss!"

Hughes paused as a thought struck him, "It's not Genevieve, is it? Because I know how much you loved her...endowments, but that's nothing to base a life off of. Not to be rude, but the poor girl couldn't have told you what three times sixteen was if she had a pen and paper, an abacus, and a calculator lined up in front of her. In fact," he considered carefully, "that might have only made it worse..."

The Colonel found his face turning a bright crimson as Hughes kept speaking. "I told you! I had no one in mind," he muttered. "Just leave it alone! It's not Genevieve anyway! I need a girl with a brain who will help me in my endeavors—because that's the most important thing..."

His thoughts flashed to Hawkeye: the girl he had been thinking about for the past several years. He put his forehead to the edge of his desk, the phone still in his hand. I must be out of my mind...

"...You're thinking of Hawkeye, aren't you?" Maes said, suddenly serious. "Roy, it's good you're thinking long term! But," a dramatic pause, "We both know Riza is way out of your league."

"Yeah...yeah..." Roy muttered distractedly, and then it hit him. He stared at the phone incredulously. "What do you mean she's out of my league?!" He demanded as several of his hopes and dreams were crushed in a split second, "H-How is she out of my league?"

He had to know. He had never thought of it that way, but part of him started to believe...

Maes smiled to himself triumphantly; Roy was finally starting to catch on. "Don't worry, Roy, I've had a plan for when you finally realized that the two of you where made for each other for years now."

After all, as the Flame Alchemist's best friend, Hughes was privy to the privileged information on how pathetic at all things love-related Roy really was.

Roy looked hopeful for a few second, but then, "Wait. Wait... Wait..." he said quickly, "Y-years? I don't remember you being psychic, Maes..." Part of him was rather disturbed by the whole thing... but if it'd help him win Hawkeye, he had a mustard seed's worth of faith in his best friend.

Maes sighed in exasperation, "Roy... you don't need to be psychic to tell what's right in front of your face." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Though in your case, it couldn't hurt."

"HEY!" Roy said, insulted, "I know women! Just because you're married..." He pouted slightly as he gave a deep exhalation. "But what do you have in mind?"

Hughes smiled serenely, "Well it goes a little something like this..." Inside his own mind, manic laughter rose to the heavens.

Roy listened eagerly, his entire body leaning forward and his eyes dilated like a deer's in headlights.

"Go on..." he urged, his eyes glancing up quickly at the door. He thought he heard footsteps.

Hughes bent low over his desk, cupping his hand around the phone and asking quietly, "Is this a secure line?"

"Nothing is secure these days... but it's as secure as we can get." Roy said, his voice dropping a level in volume as his eyes fixed on the door. His breath shallowed out as he waited... The suspense was killing him.

Hughes shrugged; that was true enough. "With a woman like Riza, you have to start off small," He divulged. "Show her that you appreciate her. Okay, so you know how much Riza loves her guns?" He waited for Roy to make a sound of confirmation, "You should take them to get oiled and re-tuned. It'll show her that you know how much she looks after you, and that you're thankful." Maes nodded sagely, "Women love that kind of stuff. Why my Gracia--"

Roy cut him off before he could say any more. "But how on earth am I supposed to get a hold of them?" His face paled at the thought: there was no way of being casual about something like that. He could just imagine it: "Hey... um... Lieutenant? Is there any way I could hold your guns for a few moments?"

Oh yeah... that would blow over well.

Disarming Hawkeye was like sticking your hand into someone else's' VCR: you had to be discreet about it and careful so you didn't get hurt.

"I'm not sure about that part, but that's on your end. I'm just the Idea Man. But," Maes cautioned, "make sure she doesn't know about it beforehand. It has to be a surprise for best effect."

Roy suddenly pondered the idea of going out with Genevieve again... when he heard more footsteps.

"Help me!" the Colonel squeaked helplessly as the door began to open.

"Roy?" Maes called, "What's wrong? Roy? Are you there?" There was an oddly ominous 'click' from the other side. Hughes stared down at the phone in his hand and breathed, "I've lost him."

Roy sat up as he spotted Hawkeye return. He paled, and went back to his paperwork. He glanced up, his eyes landing on the guns that sat on her hips.

Riza must've caught his staring, because she eyed him suspiciously. "Sir... is something wrong?" she asked. Her auburn eyes scrutinized him. He had the expression of a lost duck as he looked at her.

Roy hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck and broke out into a fool's grin.

"No, of course not! I just have another date tonight... I was wondering what I should do to impress her..." he said. "Hey... could I maybe borrow your guns... just to show off at the firing range? Maes has mine..."

Riza looked at him, startled. "After my shift is over..." she said, looking rather disappointed in him.

Roy nearly cheered with happiness. He actually did it! Holy crap!

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Maes stopped in his tracks on his way to the supply room as he was seized by the feeling that Roy had just done something very, very stupid.

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Several hours passed, and as promised, Roy received Hawkeye's guns. She had left them on the desk when he wasn't looking, and he was surprised to see that she didn't linger around after work for him like she usually did.

There was just a note with the firearms, saying: "Good luck with your date. I hope all goes well..." Roy paled at the sight, but he knew that it would be worth it... She'd realize that.

"I'd better go find Maes and tell him about this..." the Flame Alchemist thought to himself.

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Riza walked home, looking more hurt than anything. Roy was basically rubbing it in her face that he was dating other women by borrowing her firearms, and she could only hope that he'd come to his senses one day... or that she'd move on... Either way, she'd be able to live with it as long as he reached his goals.

When she reached her apartment, she opened the door to see Hayate eagerly waiting for her, his green dog bowl clutched loosely in his jaws before he set it down in front of her.

She smiled despite herself. "Alright, boy, let's get you fed..."

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Five thirty found Maes Hughes tucked away in the corner of a seedy little bar three blocks from his office. Right around midday a feeling had struck him that when Roy found him—as Hughes knew he would—he would want to be holding an especially stiff drink.

"Scotch on the rocks," He called to the bartender as the man passed by. He turned around on his stool to lean his back against the bar. And then there was Roy, standing in the doorway and carrying no less then four loaded weapons in his arms and looking for all the world like an overeager school boy.

"...Forget the rocks. And make it a double."

Roy sat down, putting the firearms aside. "I'll have what he's having," he said to the bartender, laying a few bucks on the bar. Then he turned to look at his best friend.

"I got them," he said, beaming, "It was tough, but I got them, but she left me this note... and I'm not sure what to make of it."

He slipped it to Maes, letting him read it. "I mean, I know what it means, but... I don't... Riza never left me a note before. Then again, I've never borrowed her firearms before." He glanced sideways at the guns.

Looking over the note for a third frantic time, Maes could say with confidence that he knew what Roy was thinking. It was something along the lines of, 'Riza must be telling me that if I damage any of her guns, she'll shoot me.'

But see, Roy was an idiot. Maes wasn't sure exactly what Roy had done, but anytime the love of your life was wishing you luck on a date with another woman, well, you had played a pretty damn bad hand to put it lightly.

He took one deep breath, read the note one more time, and slapped Mustang hard across the back of the head.

"I don't know what you did, Roy... But the gun cleaning won't be enough to make up for it."

Roy's head nearly hit the bar, and he shot Maes a glare. "What was THAT for?!" he demanded, "What did I do wrong?"

He wasn't sure... but he knew it had something to do with that note.

The Colonel looked at his best friend, "What does it actually mean?" he asked, sounding deathly afraid of the answer.

"It means," Maes seethed with uncommon anger, "That you somehow gave Riza the impression that her guns, her dearest positions and her means of protecting you, are best used to...to," He pinched the bridge of his nose, "to get you into another woman's skirt."

Roy looked at his friend in utter disbelief. "H-how do you figure that?!" He asked, re-reading the note for himself. He hadn't thought of it that way. "I-I only told her that I was..."

He trailed off again, realizing his mistake, and instantly looked ashamed. "I told her... that I was using them to impress a girl at the firing range..."

He breathed deeply as frustration filled his stomach like acid. "Dammit... I really screwed up this time," he muttered. "Maybe she is out of my league..."

He rubbed his temple miserably, gulping his drink down in one shot, and instantly ordered another one.

Hughes sucked in a fortifying breath, "It's okay, Roy. We can work through this. Continue with the current plan, but then we're going to have to add on something... a little more drastic." And death defying, but hey, after this Roy had it coming.

Roy sweat-dropped at the word 'drastic.' "What do you have in mind?" he inquired, his voice trembling slightly as thousands upon thousands of possibilities ran through his mind like frightened mice.

But at that second a feeling of confidence ran through him, and he knew that he wanted to win her back. He had hurt her, and he was determined to make amends for it. After all... she was being hurt by a woman that didn't even exist!

Hughes contemplated for a moment before saying resignedly, "We're going to need rope. Lots and lots of rope." He threw back his drink like the old hand he was, "And keeping a grappling hook in reserve couldn't hurt either."

Pausing to look over at his friend and noticing he was fingering his empty glass as well, Hughes raised two fingers into the air to call the barman over. "I'll buy you another, Roy. By the time we're through, you're going to need it."

Roy looked at his friend, not understanding completely, but he knew something was up... "What'll I need those for? To kill myself?" he asked, his voice damp with misery.

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Within the hour, Roy found out exactly what the rope (and the grappling hook) were for.

Hughes, calling up encouragement from below where Roy Mustang was scaling the wall of his female subordinate's house, called out drunkenly, "An' remember, Ro~y, get Black Ha-...Black Heya-...Ol' Blacky and throw him down to me~!"

Roy turned over his shoulder to blink down at his best friend in the whole world, "...Are you s'ure abou'..."

Hughes giggled until he tipped over sideways, at which point he laughed outright. "Yeah! Cour'sh I'm sure! Women lo~ve men who are good fathers!" He smiled angelically, "Why my Gracia~" He blinked hard, "Wha' was I talkin' abou' again?"

Roy blew a raspberry at him.

"Oh yeah! Women lo~ve good fathers! Ya gotta show Riza tha' you can take care ol'... ol' Blacky..."

Riza had been sleeping with Black Hayate curled under her arm—the place where the dog always slept to keep a keen eye on his master—when the dog's ears perked as he heard yelling coming from outside.

Wriggling from the comforting contact, the dog went to the window to see Roy climbing towards the window.

Roy's groggy eyes fell upon the dog, and he broke out into a wicked grin.
"Hey boy," he slurred, "Come here..." He reached out, grabbed the dog and was about to make his way back down the building when...

"Bark! Bark! Bark! Bark!"

Riza lurched up in her bed.

It was dark, and late... and as she followed her dog's voice, her eyes widened. She reached for the gun that she usually kept under her pillow and realized that she had lent it to Roy.

"DAMMIT!" she snapped with uncharacteristic rage as she ran to the window.

She's wearing her pajamas, Roy noticed with another drunken grin.

Riza grabbed a knife that she kept in the drawer of her nightstand and was about to at least startle the man into letting her dog go, when the man's hands slackened and he fell to the ground.

"Black Hayate?!" She called, her eyes wide with fear. The dog barked up at her, and looked at the man, sniffing him.

Roy groaned as his back hit the pavement. He felt the dog's cold nose digging into his cheek.

"Got 'em!" He cheered, "Now... le's go..."

Maes looked from the small dog licking at Roy's cheek to the dark silhouette of the woman with the knife in the window and decided that he may have made a slight miscalculation. As such he did as any good military man would. He stood up, grabbed their objective under one arm, and shrieked, "Retreat, retreat!" while weaving drunkenly towards the bushes.

Only once he had safely absconded in the nook of a tree's roots, did he realize he had left Roy behind.

"...Nooooooooo~!" He looked back the way he had come with a broken heart. "I's too late for him now." A single tear fell down his cheek, "I'll always 'emember you, Ro~y!"

Roy scrambled clumsily to his feet as he leaned against the wall for stability and looked around for his best friend who had disappeared.

"Hughes...?" he asked, feeling disoriented and rather nauseous, "Where am I s'posed to put 'im?"

He stumbled out of sight, making his way away from Riza's apartment.

"Com'on, boy," Hughes said sadly to the dog in his lap, "We should go collec' Roy's...Roy's...Roy's bo~dy!" He looked at Hayate's beautiful, bright eyes (so much like his Elysia's) and broke down into sobs against his fur.

"Oh, Roy, you'll never be Fuhrer now! No one will elect a dead Fuhrer!"

"You don't elect a Fuhrer, Maes..." Roy corrected as he stood over his best friend.

He swallowed audibly, looking back to see his Lieutenant return to her lair...err, apartment. "Besides, I'm not dead. Though I will be soon..."

"Roy!" Maes shouted joyfully, leaping to enfold his friend in a crushing embrace and casting Hayate from his lap with a startled yelp. "Oh, Roy! I knew you were alive, I just knew it! I didn't doubt it for an instant!"

Roy looked uneasily at his friend, completely wide eyed—a look that perfectly portrayed the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. "Okay... now wha's the next step?" he inquired. The generally steadfast alchemist's tone unusually shaky, but he only blamed it on the alcohol.

"Now?" Maes questioned blankly. He pulled back and took Roy by the shoulders, staring into his eyes, "Now we run."

Roy nodded dumbly and followed after his friend. "Lead the way," he said, not knowing what else to do.

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Riza donned a robe as she headed down to the street to find the man who was kidnapping her dog. Her eyes burned with a rare amount of anger as she held the knife tightly in her delicate hands. She looked around, but the streets seemed clear.

The Lieutenant cursed the heavens.

Could this day get any worse?

Taking one last look around, she returned to her apartment and went to her phone to call the Colonel and tell him what happened.

Even when he didn't pick up, Riza stayed on the phone.

He must be sleeping...

She gave a sigh. She'd call the Elrics tomorrow... they were going to come back to Central soon anyway. When it came to Black Hayate, she didn't know if she could think straight.; he was like her son... and even though she was a strict mother, that didn't mean she'd wasn't sick with worry.

Riza dressed herself. She had tried to go back to sleep, but she couldn't... She had to look for Hayate. She locked her apartment and walked around, calling for her dog—the knife tucked into her belt.

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Coming Next Chapter: The Elrics, Winry, and Mei are about to join the foray.

A/N: So, could you tell? If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go back and read the A/N at the top. See you next time!