"Colonel?"

Roy stared out the window at the rain. It thudded against the window, much like the pounding in his head that just wouldn't stop. Even though it was two o'clock in the afternoon, the sky was dark. Roy's eyes were half-closed, giving him a fairly sedated, unconscious look. Fiddling with his gloves, his eyes shifted to a pile of unfinished paperwork at least three inches high. Slowly, he looked up to see who called his name. "Yes?"

"You're behind on your work," Lieutenant Hawkeye said, and then, in a gentler tone, "Are you feeling all right? You look a bit flushed."

"I'm fine."

"Liar," she whispered, pushing her chair back and rising. Taking advantage of the Colonel's compromised state, she stepped behind him and pressed one hand against his forehead. "You have a fever."

"It's nothing."

She returned to her desk. "You should be at home, in bed."

There was silence for a moment, then, "Come with me."

"I beg your pardon?" Riza's eyes widened. He must be delirious.

"I mean," he cleared his throat. "just back to my house."

"You're crazy."

"It's not the best idea for me to be driving alone now, especially in this weather. I could…fall asleep at the wheel, crash, who knows?"

Groaning, Riza stood again and, accompanied by many inappropriate comments by Breda and Havoc in particular, walked with Mustang out of the room. Outside, he led her to where one of the military's cars was parked, pulled out the keys, and opened the drivers side door, stepping up. One foot in the car, Riza grabbed his forearm and pulled him back out. "You're not driving today."

"But—"

"Get in," she muttered, leaning over and unlocking the passenger door.

Roy grumbled something about women before climbing in next to Riza. It would be a long ride home.


When they finally stopped at Roy's house, she helped him inside and into his bedroom. Riza expected he would ask her to return to Eastern Headquarters to finish working, but he didn't. Instead, he unlaced his boots and hung his jacket on a hook behind the door before sliding under the covers, otherwise still in uniform. Riza had pulled another blanket over his shaking body and brushed already sweat-streaked hair out of his eyes before he said anything.

"You don't have to…stay if you don't want to," Roy whispered hoarsely. He didn't hear what she said as he quickly fell into unconsciousness.


Roy slowly woke up and shifted positions in the bed. There was something on his forehead; he tried to touch it, but he found he was too weak to raise his arm. Something was cooking in the next room, and although he didn't feel very much like eating, it certainly smelled appetizing. He heard the click of dishes being stacked followed by footsteps; the sound grew louder, accompanied by a woman's voice speaking softly. A glass was pressed to his lips, and his parched mouth welcomed the cool liquid inside. His eyes opened and he saw the blurred form of his female subordinate standing over him, removing the compress from his head.

"Oh good, you're awake. How do you feel?"

"You're—you're still here?" Roy, sounding disoriented, blinked again to make sure what he was seeing was real.

"Of course I'm still here. Did you think I would leave you?" Her voice returned to the tone she usually used with him at work, perfectly emotionless, as opposed to seconds before, when he detected the slightest inflection of compassion. "No," she whispered, her voice changing back again as she smoothed the covers over him, "I couldn't leave you. Not like this."

She touched his forehead again and quickly disappeared, returning in a matter of seconds with a glass thermometer. As the colonel's arms were still buried under the blankets, she carefully slipped it under his waiting tongue and removed it once the mercury inside the tube stopped rising. Shaking her head, Riza pressed her hand to his forehead yet another time.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Roy knew something was wrong, because she wasn't talking.

"Your fever is rather high," she said, trying to mask the worry in her voice. She paused for a second, and then added, "You know, sir, we're not at work now, I wouldn't object if you called me by my name."

"If that what you want, then Riza it is."

She smiled. "Thank you, sir."

He started laughing, but it turned into coughing, and Riza waited for the fit to cease before gesturing for him to turn on his side. As she gently rubbed his shoulders, he said, "I figured that request would have gone both ways."

"I didn't want to assume anything…Roy."


The second time he woke up, he felt remarkably warmer, and the house was silent. Perhaps Riza had decided to go home. He didn't blame her. After all, it was getting late; he could see the moon through the window and the rain. The rain was the only sound he could hear, little beads throwing themselves at the glass. He reached up to adjust the blanket on his shoulder, and was surprised to find not folds of cloth in his hand, but another hand. The other hand fit nicely into his own, and he touched every perfect finger, feeling every crease and curve because somehow, his gloves were laying, folded, on the nightstand. Rolling over and sliding the hand out of the way, he found himself face to face with the Lieutenant. Her face looked peaceful and she was breathing deeply. Moments later, as if feeling the eyes upon her, she blinked once or twice and stared back at the Colonel.

"Care to explain what you're doing in my bed?"

The woman had already rolled off the bed and was pulling her jacket back on. "On you bed, Sir. On your bed."

"Please," he whispered, sitting up, taking her hand and pulling her back onto the bed with him. "Call me Roy."

"Okay, Roy. I was on your bed, not in it. There's a difference."

"Of course."

"I'm still worried about you. You fever's gotten higher, if anything. Do you have any medicine here to bring it down?"

He shook his head. "Don't keep the stuff in the house."

"Well, why not?"

"Because I," he knew what Riza's reaction would be, he quickly looked away. "Don't get sick."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

"Maybe if I take a cool shower…"

"That might help."

Roy slowly slid out from under the covers and began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. After a minute or so, he looked up at Riza, frustration lining his face. Kneeling down before him, she carefully unbuttoned one after another, moving from his neck, down his chest, to where the buttons stopped, a little ways before the place she dared not go. Roy pulled off the shirt that as slightly damp with sweat and tossed it into the corner of the room. Riza couldn't help but stare at her superior.


Riza waited in the living room and read little bits of the alchemy textbooks he had around the house. She was only slightly troubled, no, not troubled, but intrigued by the fact that Roy was showering in the next room. At some point she heard the water shut off, and to her surprise, the door opened a bit and Roy stuck his head out. Trying not to smile as he asked her politely to retrieve his fresh set of clothing from the other room, she closed the book she was staring at and disappeared for a moment. She returned, expecting the slip the clothes to him through a slightly ajar door. However, she was shocked to see the door wide open.

Roy stood on the tile floor, dripping wet and shivering, a towel tied around his waist. Riza put the clothes on the floor and quickly picked up another towel and covered his shoulders. Carefully, she rubbed his hair and upper body dry with the soft cloth. She let it fall to the ground and placed her hands back on Roy's shoulders. Tenderly, she kissed the back of his neck. The colonel's hair stood on end as she kissed him again, this time on the shoulder.

"What are…"

She stepped back, slightly embarrassed and stuttering like an awkward teenager might, "I—I—you—forgive me, sir. I wasn't thinking straight."

"Forgive you for what?"

He tucked his hair out of the way, and Riza saw a mischievous light glinting behind his blue-black eyes. She was about to open her mouth to question him when Roy took her face into his hands and pressed his lips against hers. Taken aback with pleasant surprise, she dropped back, failing to hide her smile and blushing a bit. Mustang's cheeks, too, had taken on a pink tint.

Riza stepped so close that she was right up against Roy, put her hand on his shoulder, and slid it down to reach the middle of his bare back. He reached up and twirled a free strand of her hair around his index finger. Sweetly smiling, he kissed the woman on the cheek and leaned closer, whispering, "It's all right…Riza."


It was exactly as he had imagined it. After a long night and sharing their first kiss, the woman he loved lay next to him in his bed. Riza's head rested on his chest, and his arm went around her shoulders, his hand resting on her waist. Their legs were intertwined, and she gently moved her foot back and forth against his. Roy could feel her breathing. Slowly, she let out a sigh and whispered, "We can never be like this again, can we?"

Roy pulled her even closer against his body. "Not for a while," he breathed. "But someday, we will be together. Some day, the rules will change, and we can be just like this, forever."

There was silence. Then Riza said, almost to herself, "You'll be an amazing Fuhrer, some day."


My first FMA fic...not to mention it's been about two years since i wrote any fanfic at all.
so...what do you think? tell me!
much love to emily...who fixes my typos...