This was supposed to be a ten sentence drabble written for the prompt "Jealousy," but it got out of hand and ended up being a longer one shot.

And yeah, this kind of thing has been done before, sorry I'm not being original here, but I'm a sucker for this trope and jealous Roy, okay? Also, there's a World of Warcraft reference in this fic. I like throwing easter eggs for WoW into my fics for some reason.

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The Slaughtered Lamb was a seedy joint nestled in the back alleys of First Street in one of Central City's more unsavory districts. On the surface, the tavern appeared to be nothing more than a scummy bar with shady patrons and blunt staff, but it was reported to be a front for illegal human trafficking networks focusing on prostitution. Mustang's team was put in charge of the investigation into the matter.

After much deliberation on how they would go about infiltrating the place, Hawkeye eventually suggested that she go in as bait. The rest of the team would be in the area to watch her back, and she could certainly handle things on her own, but Roy still hated the idea and voiced his concerns. It turned into an argument and the rest of the team knew to keep quiet when Mustang and Hawkeye butted heads, so they remained silent and stationary in front of the colonel's desk.

"That plan is too dangerous, Lieutenant, I won't allow it."

Riza sighed and glared at the colonel.

"And what other options do we have? They'll certainly be suspicious if a group of men they've never seen before just waltz in like they're regulars."

"That's still a better option than letting you go in there alone. Safety in numbers."

"You and Havoc can keep watch inside the bar while I attempt to draw their attention. What about that?"

That gave Roy pause and he leaned forward in his chair, running a hand through his hair and sighing in frustration. She had a point. She was always right and he didn't know why he ever tried to argue with her. He rarely came out the victor in any of their spats. He grit his teeth and frowned as he struggled to think of a better solution before finally taking a deep breath, letting it out in a low growl.

"Fine. We'll go with your plan. Havoc, you'll accompany me inside the bar and help keep an eye out for suspicious activity and make sure the lieutenant isn't harmed. Fuery, you'll be stationed in a hotel room across the street to relay the situation back to Falman who will be here in the office. Breda, you'll be hidden in the alleyway to back us up. The usual. You're all dismissed. See you tomorrow night."

The team saluted and filed out of the office, but Riza hung back, knowing Roy was not finished griping to her about the mission.

She was right.

"Lieutenant," Roy said, gesturing into his interior office. "A word?"

Riza held back a sigh as she draped her coat back over her chair and stepped into his interior office. He closed the door behind her and crossed his arms, glaring at her. She returned the gesture, mimicking his posture in preparation to defend her stance on the subject until he dropped it.

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The night of the undercover operation was overcast and cool. Rain was in the forecast for the evening and that was just another thing added on to the list of reasons why Roy Mustang was in a foul mood. The main reason being his beautiful first lieutenant smiling and giggling uncharacteristically on a stool at the bar next to a greasy yet well-dressed man whose hands were wandering to places that made Roy fume. He wanted to burn the man's hands off, but instead, he composed himself and averted his gaze, taking deep breaths so he wouldn't do anything drastic and blow their cover.

Hawkeye was wearing a form fitting black dress that barely reached her mid-thigh and had a high collar with a scooping neckline. She was gorgeous and for someone else to be touching her while she looked like that was killing Mustang. If they didn't get out of there soon, he was going to torch the place with his jealous gaze alone.

Havoc was sitting on the other side of the bar in a booth kiddie corner from Roy and he glanced at his superior officer warily. Even from his distance it was easy to see that the colonel was agitated. He lit a cigarette as his eyes drifted back to Lieutenant Hawkeye. He'd have to be extra alert tonight. If anything slipped by his notice, Mustang would definitely chew him out and that was something he'd much rather avoid.

Riza was uncomfortable, but did her best not to show it. Roy was an excellent actor and Riza could match him when it came to pretending to be someone she was not. She tried not to look at Roy too often throughout the night, knowing he was not happy.

Nothing suspicious had caught her eye yet so there was no reason to get Roy's attention. As much as she wanted to go over to him and scold him for acting so childishly, she kept her focus on the man beside her, the supposed owner of the tavern and possible leader of the illegal prostitution ring. With any luck, he'd attempt to coerce her into joining his business and that would be all the proof she needed to put her gun to his head and place him under arrest.

Focusing on the weight of the gun in her thigh holster was helping to get her through the night. The man next to her was wearing too much cologne and was far too friendly and handsy for her liking. It was definitely a show and Riza matched his good natured facade with her own Elizabeth persona, flirty and loose, but ready to whip out her gun at the detection of even the slightest bit of hostility. She only hoped that Roy would also keep his emotions in check until the time was right to act.

Roy nursed his whisky on the rocks and glared at the man whose arm was wrapped far too low on his lieutenant's waist. Every time Riza giggled and scooted closer to the man, whispering in his ear, Roy's fingers twitched, itching to snap. He shouldn't have agreed to this mission. It was too risky and it put Riza into the worst kind of situation. It took every ounce of control to not stomp over there, pull her from that greaseball, wrap his own arm around her waist, and punch the man in the face. But Riza would kill him for such a stunt, so he gripped his glass tighter and waited, staring at his reflection in his drink to distract himself from his anger.

The sounds of wood scraping across the floor brought his attention back to the bar where the man stood from his stool and held Riza tight against his side as he casually made his way toward the back of the bar. Roy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Riza would never have allowed herself to be half dragged like that. Something was wrong.

Roy made eye contact with Havoc and the second lieutenant seemed to have come to the same conclusion, because worry lined his face as well. They moved simultaneously, but the moment Havoc stood, his legs gave out and he fell into a crumpled heap on the floor.

Panic flared in Roy's gut. If they had drugged Riza and Havoc's drinks, then his was probably drugged too and that meant their cover must have been blown from the very beginning.

Mustang was suddenly grateful that the man had distracted him so much. He only had a couple of sips of his drink and felt no different than he had when they arrived two hours earlier. But that meant that Havoc and Riza were out of commission and, with no time to run out the door and contact Breda, Roy was on his own.

"That's as far as you go, pal," came a voice to Roy's right and he turned to see the beefy bartender had a gun trained on him.

Roy frowned and his mind worked double time to come up with a way to get Havoc and Hawkeye out safely. Thankful for his foresight, Roy lifted his left gloved hand and snapped, singeing the bar tender's hand and surprising the man enough that he yelped and dropped his gun. Roy dove over the bar and grabbed the gun before the bartender had time to recover.

"I'll be taking this," Roy said to the man before knocking him out with the butt of the gun.

With the bartender taken care of, Roy hurried to follow Riza, cautiously opening the door she and the bar owner disappeared through. He found himself at the top of a staircase and he descended quietly, gun held at his side, hand raised and ready to snap. At the bottom of the stairs was a long, dark hallway, damp and musty from lack of use, and Roy crinkled his nose when the scent of mold and decay hit him.

A light was on in a room at the very end of the hall, the door to which was slightly ajar, and Roy picked up the pace, jogging over to it and counting to three before bursting in, his gloved hand held in front of him.

Mustang froze at the sight before him, rage bubbling up inside as he took everything in.

A half unconscious Riza was still being held closely by the bar's owner whose hand was paused midway from lifting her skirt. A shocked expression was on his face as he stared at Roy who had interrupted his inspection of the newest asset to his line of goods.

"So, the drugs didn't affect you, hm?" The man asked, taking his hand from Riza's skirt to place it on her shoulder. "This beautiful specimen is part of your team, I take it?" The slimy bastard smirked and ran his hand down Riza's side, pointedly brushing the side of her breast before stopping below her waist. "She'll make an excellent addition to my collection."

"Get your hands off of her," Roy growled, low and menacing.

The bar owner took an involuntary step back under Roy's furious gaze.

They were supposed to bring the man in to be jailed, but all Roy wanted to do was burn him alive for hurting the members of his team and especially for what he was doing to his most precious of subordinates. The way the man was touching her was disgraceful, and Roy couldn't stand it. Orders be damned. He put the familiar pressure into the motion to snap, but before he could, Riza's voice broke the silence and he stopped, gaze focusing on her.

"Colonel, don't."

"Lieutenant!"

Roy started to argue, but Riza, even in her near oblivious state, was coherent enough to reach for her gun and shoot the man in the leg. He went down with a cry of surprise and Roy immediately sprang into action, rushing to Riza's side to catch her before she fell. Roy pressed his gun against the bar owner's temple and smirked in triumph.

"It's over for you," Roy said just as hurried footsteps approached from behind.

Roy gripped Riza's waist a little tighter, holding her closer to him in preparation for trouble. If the bar owner had backup, Roy would protect Riza at all costs.

Thankfully, it was Breda who ran into the room, gun held high. Once he took in the situation, he holstered his gun and leapt forward to grip the bar owner's arm, tugging him to stand up then handcuffing him.

"I've got this asshole, boss, you take care of Hawkeye."

"Havoc?"

"He's fine, sir. A little disoriented, but he didn't drink enough of whatever drug they used to cause problems."

"Good to hear. We'll follow you, now get him out of here."

Breda nodded and practically dragged the man out of the room.

Roy turned his attention to his lieutenant pressed against his side and she gave him a tired, weary smile. Things had almost gone very badly and she knew he was going to reprimand her for it. She had been careless with her drink, having taken several sips to keep up appearances in front of the creepy bar owner.

"You were too reckless, Lieutenant. I told you this was a bad idea."

"It worked… out though," Riza replied, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Roy sighed heavily.

"But it almost didn't…And the way he was touching you…"

Riza cut him off with a light press of her index and middle fingers against his lips.

"But you… stopped him. You… wouldn't have let him…do anything. I trust you."

Roy smiled softly and squeezed her hand.

"That's enough talking, Lieutenant. I'll get you to the medics, so don't push yourself. If you pass out, I'll be here to protect you."

Riza returned his soft smile before succumbing to the effects of the drugs in her system.

Roy slipped his hand under her knees, placing the other over her shoulder, and carried her out the door. They captured the criminal and Riza was safe, and the latter was all that really mattered.