Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or any associated characters. The plot is mine, mine, mine though. And even if you decided to sue me, you'd get nothing. I be a poor writer.
Two Little BarsCHAPTER ONE
Funny how a few minutes could change everything; make her world come crashing down around her, her life abruptly wrenched from her control. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the small object in her hand, her stomach churning. The pale sunlight that washed over her slumped figure suddenly seemed to have dropped several degrees as she sat there, silent.
She gingerly licked her lips before biting them, a nervous habit that she'd never indulged in, at least, not until now. Her chocolate brown eyes held none of their usual calm demeanor; instead, what resided in them were anxiety, fear, and most of all, shock.
Shock. Just pure shock that this had happened to her. She never was one of those rash women, who were threw caution and responsibility to the wind. No, the blond had always been cautious and levelheaded. Even when it came to the matters of the heart…
She narrowed her eyes again, squinting at the blue lines. She couldn't believe that this was happening to her; honestly, it just seemed all like a horrid dream. Perhaps she was just asleep; yes…her free hand traveled up to her cheek, where, dreamily, she pinched it hard, as she wasn't expecting anything to happen.
An uncharacteristic yelp escaped her lips-why, that had hurt! And pinches shouldn't hurt in dreams…God, God, this is not happening.
She'd been so careful. So very, very careful-she'd never missed drinking the herbal concoction that had been prescribed for her daily to ensure that such an incident would not happen. And besides, it wasn't like she didn't take extra precautions in addition to the herbal brew.
Maybe it's wrong.
Yes, perhaps it was. The blonde shook herself out of her dazed state and marched to the bathroom, where there was another box waiting for her, just in case. Grabbing it roughly, she tore open the box and retrieved the small object inside of it. "This is not happening to me," she muttered. She refused to accept that its readings were accurate; surely, a second trial would disprove it!
Minutes later, the same result occurred.
Perhaps it's the lighting! Yes, I'm sure I just can't see in this dimly lit bathroom. Never mind the fact that both sunlight and fluorescent lighting flooded the small restroom. She marched out to the patch of sunlight streaming in through her window, plopping down onto her bed again.
She stuck the object underneath the yellow light for scrutiny.
No, it can't be.
But there they were.
It's just late!
That was doubtful, considering that her body had consistent, regular 28-day cycle since she was fourteen.
…Oh, shit.
A profane expression that she rarely used, but certainly applicable to the situation at hand.
I'm not ready, my career…
And she was right; she wasn't ready at all. She wasn't ready to…settle down, god forbid. But, did she really have a choice? Her mind swum as she thought about the repercussions of her actions; oh God, she just wasn't ready yet! Not even engaged, much less married; established yet unsettled; and worst of all, currently career-driven.
Great. Just great.
And how was she to break this to him?
Maybe I won't.
But he did have a right to know.
What about the public scandals that this would create?
He was still in a precarious position; newly promoted to this rank, not even a year on the job. People were still getting used to him, for heaven's sake! Telling him would do no good, no good at all; in fact, she reasoned, it'd probably incite slanderous, malice gossip about him. Not something she wanted to do.
But I can't do it alone.
She swallowed hard; no matter how strong she was, she knew that she'd never be able to do this alone. How could she change her goals, her ambitions, her attitude-everything that she'd known in less than eight months? How would she be able to tell him that he'd have to change, too, for her?
"…Oh, God. Oh, God. Ohgodohgodohgod…." She repeated the phrase over and over again, as if it were a mantra. The white object in her hand clattered to the floor as she buried her head in hands, crystalline tears uncharacteristically trailing down her cheeks.
The small stick skidded across the wooden floor before hitting the wall with a soft clack, facing up. The two faint blue bars stared up at the white ceiling.
Yes, Riza Hawkeye was pregnant. With Fuhrer Roy Mustang's child.
---
Chatte's Note: First shot at writing FMA fanfiction! Hope it's not too out of character for the first chapter. However, I don't think any normally calm, cool, collected female would be happy (or calm)with an unplanned pregnancy, especially with her boss's child when fraternization is against the rules. ;
Just a tidbit of extra information, it's set after the movie, hence Roy's rank.
I'll probably update this a week for now. Just a bit of a starting chapter here; I promise the next will be quite longer. xD