So I might have...freaked out a bit. And considering my history of psychotic breakdowns and emotional explosions, that shouldn't be that surprising to anyone who knew anything about me at all. But still.

I was sitting in my office, my elbows on my desk, and my hands clamped over my head, forcing it down and hurting it with the pressure. Pain felt better – it was something else to concentrate on, rather than my mental instability. It reminded me of when I used to cut. More doctor visits, and thus more panic attacks, had convinced me that that particular solution was not worth the reprocussions. But a bit of pain still helped, so long as I didn't leave any marks.

But that wasn't what I was really thinking about.

I cringed, rolling my eyes into the back of my head.

So I might have...freaked out a lot. But Vato should know me well enough not to take what had happened as rejection, right? Because I definately hadn't meant it like that.

Of course, most guys would interpret the girl they'd just kissed backing away from them and then bolting from the room as a bad thing, wouldn't they? Plus, I might have broke a few things during my race to my office. Like a picture frame or two. And a cart full of today's mail. And Lieutenant Fury.

My mind was still realing, obviously. Keeping my thoughts on any kind of track was proving way too difficult, so I just let it wander – even though it kept wandering back to the one thing I didn't want to think about.

Vato.

The kiss.

Oh, man. What was supposed to do now?

A knock at the door caused me to pysically recoil from my desk, knocking over my chair, scattering a pile of paperwork to the floor, and slamming back into the window behind me. I think I heard it crack.

The window frame, not my skull. My head was harder than that.

"Officer Crow?" Mustang peaked his head through the door, probably because he heard the racket. He watched me slide down the wall to the floor with raised brows. "Just wanted to see what was wrong. Fury says you shoved him into the women's restroom when you ran past him down the hall. Said you looked like you were scared out of your mind. What's up? I thought you'd be spending time with Falman about now."

Apart of me wanted to die of embarasment right there.

Mustang stepped slowly into the room, closing the door lightly behind him. "What's wrong? I thought you were making some progress here."

Oddly enough, it was at that moment that I realized that Roy Mustang was my best friend. Because I had to impulse to spill my guts. Whenever I had been doing badly, it had always been Mustang to help me back up. He always listened to me, took care of me, and was all around good to me. But it wasn't the same thing as with Vato-

...crap, Vato.

Stuttering horribly, I tried to explain. "V-vaat-to k-k-k-k-k-kisssss."

Mustang's eyes shot wide. "Did you just say kiss?"

Blushing furiously, I nodded.

"And Vato as in Falman?"

I nodded again. Mustang grinned. "And that's a bad thing?"

"N-no!" I spat.

"Then why are you here instead of with him?"

I moaned, letting my head pount backward against the wall. "D-don't kn-now!"

"Oh, poor Officer Crow's dealing with her first love~!" Mustang practically sang, leaning back against the door. "Bet you feel all messed up inside, right?"

I nodded vigorously.

"Confused about what you feel?"

Again, I nodded, letting my hands slip away from my head so I could look up at him.

"Riding the adrenhaline rush that came with your embarrasment?"

I leaned forward, placing my palms on the floor to hold myself up, giving Mutang my rapt attention.

"Unsure of what to do now, where your friendship is going to go?" While he had been speaking, Mustang's giddy, smug expression had slowly softened, and now he was honestly smiling at me with care and admiration. "Are you scared, Crow?"

A few tears slipt down, unbidden.

Yes, I was scared. Because, for the first time in my life, I cared about someone other than myself. I wasn't medicated, I wasn't institutionalized, and I wasn't forcing myself to try to be some docile, puppet of a person that I couldn't truly be. I was me, and I was falling in love.

With Vato.

And we'd kissed.

And a man didn't kiss someone like me. I was violent, I was angry, and I was a loner. I didn't attract male attention, not with my short, messy black locks that looked like I'd hacked them off with scissors or my intimidating death glares. Not with my tall frame and A-cup, or my bloody knuckles and refusal to communicate verbally.

But I wasn't just talking about any man. I was talking about Vato. And Vato wouldn't have kissed me...not if he didn't care about me. Not if he didn't-

I knew him that well. I trusted him that much. I believed he wouldn't, purposely, hurt me. And I knew he wasn't the type to kiss and tell. In fact, he wasn't really the type to kiss at all. Vato Falman wasn't exactly known around Central for playing the field. He was honest, he was good, and he cared about his comrades, but he didn't really date.

He was a studious, work-a-holic of a man, a walking textbook. A nerd.

So, that meant...well, that meant the obvious. He cared about me. Liked me. Maybe...maybe l-lo-

I gulped, leaning to close the short distance between my forehead and the floor. It was cool and smooth, and felt good against the heat in my face.

"Crow?" Mustang's hand was on my back, pushing down to keep it from moving so rapidly. "Breath slower, Officer. Calm down."

I sucked in air, and this time squeezed my eyes shut, making an effort to let it out slower. It was difficult, and it took a few more seething breaths to get into a better rythme. I gasped a few times, choking and coughing, a sob or two breaking free before it was done.

"There there, better, better." The pressure on my back lessened, than began to form a soothing circle. "Talk to me, Crow."

"D-don-n't." I choked out, growing angrier and angrier by the minute. Why? Because of this. Because of how I was, how I reacted, what I did. "D-don't w-want to, t-to be l-like this-s!"

I brought my hand up and slammed my fist down onto the floor, feeling the impact's shake up through my forehead and into my skull. I wanted to do it agian and again and again, but Mustang had my now raised wrist held in a vice grip, unyielding.

"Hey, now. None of that." He said firmly, pulling me up by my captured arm until he could see my face, tear stained and red. "I thought we were past this."

He was talking about my anger, my self destructive and violent ways. I had thought I was past it, too. But it wasn't just some stage I was in or something I was going through. I had a problem. I'd always had a problem. Falling in love had just overriden the anger, the pain, the depression, for a while. It was still there, inside. It probably always would be.

And that was what scared me most of all.

"N-norm-mal!" I sobbed at Mustang, letting my anger go and feeling only the horrible, horrible saddness that was overwhelming me. "W-want to b-be n-normal-l! I w-want to be norm-mal!"

Mustang only stared down at me, and let me cry.

Because I wasn't ever going to be normal.

Because normal didn't exist.

That standard of living I was always putting up between myself and others – it wasn't real. It was a shield, my ruse. So that I didn't have to face my problems for what they were – apart of me. Something I had to live with, deal with, and decide for myself what to do with. I wasn't going to be 'normal' and I wasn't going to 'get better.' I was me. And that was who I was always going to be.

Whether or not the me that I was today would be the same me I was in years to come was mine to decide.

"Vato." I'd stopped crying, and Mustang released my arm. I brought it up to wipe the tears from my eyes, and counted to three a couple of times, trying to steady my breathing again, like Mustang had helped me earlier. "I want t-to see him."

Mustang grinned at me. "That-a-girl."

Like a gentleman, he helped me up from the floor and even held the door open for me as I headed out into the hall. I didn't even question it when he led me to the staff room.

"Common, Falman. Just tell us what you did, already!"

The voices drifting from the ajar door where loud and amused – obviously Breda and Havoc.

"Crow doesn't freak out like that anymore – you had to have done something."

"I didn't say she had freaked out, she was just in a hurry!" Fury defended me, and that made me feel bad about knocking him into the ladies room.

"Crow doesn't do anything quickly unless she's freaking out," Breda pointed out just as we reached the door.

Mustang was grinning at my face, which I'm sure was not very appealing at the moment. Because Breda was right, too. I wasn't a very...motivated person unless I was extremely overemotional. Maybe my system just bottled everything up until I exploded. That's what it normally felt like.

But Mustang didn't wait to hear anymore and pulled the door the rest of the way open. We stepped in as the group turned to look at us, appropriately abashed. Breda, Havoc, and Fury all seated at the table, Hawkeye against the back wall, and Falman, standing in the middle of the floor like he'd just halted mid pace.

It occured to me at that moment that I should have cleaned up abit before going to look for him. My eyes were probably bloodshot and dreadfully puffy. At least Mustang wasn't holding me up anymore.

My heart started racing almost immediately at the sight of him. It all came rushing back, like it wanted to overload me – the week of him being gone, the feel of his lips hesitant on mine, my confusion and anger and sadness back at the office. My stomach did flips, my chest felt heavy, and my mind raced with a newly formed headache probably brought on by all the sobbing.

And none of it mattered a bit as Vato took a slow step forward and stopped, reaching his hand out worridly towards me and halting it in midair. "Er, Officer Crow-"

Officer Crow? I was back to being Officer Crow?

He'd only even called me Freesia once, but that in and of itself, no matter how small, had been a big shift for me. No one else called me that except my parents, who had stopped mattering to me a long time ago. Maybe because I blamed them for the doctors, the drugs, and the military. But they'd only done all those things because they cared for me, and worried about my health, hadn't they? And, because of that, I was who I was today, no matter how insecure, and that was the woman who'd fallen in love with Vato Falman. And he was Vato to me now, not "Falman" anymore in my mind.

And it was all these weird emotions he was making me feel that had me accepting myself, had me reigning in my anger and hatred of the world, and had me considering calling my parents – or at least writing them. Yes, talking on phone was still beyond me. But a letter...

Looking up at Vato, I narrowed my eyes. I saw him flinch away and gulp, but I opened my mouth and asked, loudly, "What-t happened t-to Freesia?"

I think the whole room gasped. In harmony.

Behind me, Mustang was chuckling. "I think first names became dangerous territory when you ran out of the room screaming."

I jabbed him in the stomach with my elbow. "W-wasn't scream-ming. Jus-st conf-fused." I licked my lips and cleared my throat. All of this talking just felt weird. I had to buck up alot of courage to turn back to Vato now that I'd looked away, but I met his eyes determinedly. "A-are you m-mad, Vato?"

He just stood there, staring at me for a moment, before he suddenly started to shake his head – rather violently, really. "N-no! No, I'm not mad! ...Freesia."

He finished his sentence by taking my name on the end, hesitantly, and a little breathlessly. If I hadn't already been completely flushed from the whole ordeal, just the way he said my name would have done it just then, anyway. I hadn't realized just how I loved the way it sounded when he said it.

Heck, I'd never even liked the name before now.

There was alot more I wanted to say, but I didn't want to say anything at that moment. I was getting a little irritated with talking, and it wasn't how I was used to expressing myself anyway, so I decided it was time to just drop the practice for the day. After all, I'd been using it plenty in the past ten minutes after having not spoken to anyone for years. That was progress enough for one day.

So, instead, I merely closed the distance between us in three long strides and wrapped my arms around his waist. My head was buried in his chest before he had even reacted.

Vato's hands hung in the air around me, like he wasn't quite sure what to do with them. I ignored his discomfort and shot a glare over to the others, still seated at the table. I removed one hand long enough to point at the door.

The message was obvious even without Mustang clearing his throat. The crowd shuffled out, nervous grins plastered on their faces (except Hawkeye, who was trying not to smile). When Mustang snapped the door shut behind them all, I let my hand fall back to my side, but kept the other one tucked around Vato's waist.

In the silence, I struggled to master myself.

Part of me was decided, determined. I knew how I felt, I knew that he cared, and all I wanted to do was just be with him. Maybe even pick up were I'd run off, let him know I was ready now, and sorry.

The other part was still in chaos, struggling. I was alone with him agian. I was nervous as heck. I was touching him – rather intimately – and the realization was sending electricity through me in new and exciting ways.

My head and heart were both pounding, and my stomach was threatening to come out both ends, it was so jumpy. My throat was closing in panic, my need to run and scream and even cry were all boiling up inside me agian, ready to burst.

Just like after the kiss. Just like every time I had to escape to that miserable little storage closet.

Not this time.

Not ever again.

I finally turned and looked up at him again, scared to death and knowing I showed it, that he could see it. But I wasn't going to run away.

"Freesia..." He said it again, like a whisper, and it made a new thrill coarse through me – the same as all the others, essentially, when I try and think to describe it; and yet...New. Strong. Weak. Fiery. Chilled. Electric. Subtle. Everything. "A-are you alright? I mean, about earlier – I'm sorry if I did, er...if you didn't, that is-"

Adorable was the first word that came to mind to describe his struggle for words, even though it didn't make me smile and Vato's rather gruff exterior was anything but. And yet, I felt like he needed comfort. Reassurance.

I couldn't say I wasn't afraid anymore. But, at least, I wasn't afraid of this.

I brought my free hand up to his face and cupped his cheek, pulling him down only slightly so as to meet him. And, without me even thinking about it, his name slipped out before out lips met. After years of not talking, I just couldn't make that one word stop.

Because it said everything I couldn't. It, and the kiss.

"Vato." I missed you. I'm sorry. I love you.

When my lips slid off his, I pressed them back on again, not willing to let it go – to let him go.

He seemed surprised – I was having that effect on him alot today – but he did kiss back, gently, with slightly shaking breaths.

We both jumped apart, scared half out of our wits, when a loud yell came from the hallway. It took a moment to register what was being said.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS? THEY'RE OFFICIAL NOW? FALMAN AND CROW!"

Both we, the above mentioned, went scarlet at the exclamation. Immediately, I was through the door and stomping towards the group of officers crowded around Mustang, gawking. He saw me coming. They didn't.

"DEATH!" I shouted, and I was certain it was the loudest thing I'd ever said. The guys all turned to me, blanched, and scattered at once, running for their lives.

I didn't catch any of them, so I whirled back around in a huff. In the doorway stood Vato, still flushed with a light red, but smiling softly at me. I felt my face grow hotter, but nodded slowly at him, acknowledging both to him and to myself what was between us.

And with a growing warmth inside my chest, I realized that, for the first time in my life, I felt truly happy.