A/N: A quick little oneshot
Hawkeye wanted to strangle the girl on the line. She also wanted to strangle her Colonel. It was his fault she had to listen to the ramblings of an over emotional woman. He was the one who refused to take her call, excusing himself to who knows where, forty five minutes ago. Just five minutes before this girl called.
"All right, I'll let him know," she slammed the phone down on the receiver. She rubbed her temples, trying to ward of the impending headache that always accompanied this sort of situation.
Havoc sniggered and she shot a glare at him, and he shut up immediately. She was about to say something when the Colonel came through the door, whistling a merry tune.
Havoc snorted as soon as the door shut behind him, "You're gonna get it," he mumbled in a sing song tone. Before the Mustang could say anything, Havoc stood up and walked over to the door. "Me and the guys are gonna take our lunch break now,"
The rest of the boys stood up, mumbling the same and the four practically sprinted out of the office. The moment the door shut, he had expected her to start screaming. What He didn't expect, however, was for her to say nothing. She hadn't even acknowledged his presence.
By the time the guys returned, still the expected flip out had yet to happen. The office was quiet, the only sound being the scratching of pens on paper. On the outside, one might think nothing was wrong, but if they were to step into the room, the tension might actually suffocate them.
It wasn't until five minutes before the end of the day when Hawkeye finally spoke. She placed her pen on her desk and looked up at the Colonels desk. The sound of scratching pens stopped as soon as her pen touched the desk.
"Hannah wanted me to tell you," she paused glancing around the office in sweep of her eyes, as if ensuring everyone was paying attention, "That she thinks you're a horrible poet and never to call her again,"
There was utter silence for a moment before the sound of laughter broke out. If Mustang didn't know better, even Hawkeye was smirking.
"Poetry!" exclaimed Breda.
Havoc was banging the desk, hardly able to breathe, "A woman rejected you-" he burst into another fit of laughter.
"Because of Poetry?" finished Falman.
The Colonel flushed and he sunk down in his chair a bit more, "Girls like that stuff," he murmured.
Throughout the laughter, Hawkeye had gathered her stuff and stood up, "Have a good evening Colonel Mustang," she said, ever the professional, before leaving.
The rest of the men had gathered their belongings and left shortly after, still laughing. Of course, Havoc and Breda had to put in a few last second jabs and report that the fact that Playboy Roy Mustang wrote poetry would be circulated immediately.
He knew he wasn't leaving the office that night. Havoc had yelled down the hall that he wrote poetry. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. Contemplating the day, and wondering what Hannah had said to get Hawkeye that upset. That was pretty brutal, even for Hawkeyes standards. He knew it wasn't fair that she got stuck dealing with that sort of stuff, but even so. Outing him on his poetry thing. That was brutal.
He nearly fell out of his chair when he heard the lock click open the the office. The last thing he was expecting was to see the subject of his thoughts walk through the door holding a paper bag.
"Hawkeye?" he said hesitantly, not sure if he was hallucinating.
"Yes, Sir?" she said, approaching his desk.
He sat up a little straighter, preparing himself for whatever verbal attacks she might throw at him. He was caught by surprise a second time when she set down the bag she was holding on his desk.
His confusion showed on his face, "What's this?" he asked.
She smiled, an expression he was rarely permitted to see grace her features. "A Cheese and Steak Sub from Christopher's. I figured you wouldn't be going home tonight," she paused, guilt taking the place of the smile, "I wanted to apologize about earlier. It was out of line and completely unprofessional,"
He wasn't exactly sure what to make of this scene, but he couldn't help but ask,
"Why'd you do it? You've never done anything like that,"
She flushed with embarrassment, "I-uh-" she stammered, looking down at her feet uncomfortably. A moment later she looked him in the eye, apparently steeling her resolve, "I was jealous, Sir,"
His jaw dropped, "Jealous? Of what?" he asked.
"Of them. I-I was jealous of all the girls who call you and how you are with them and I guess I just couldn't take it anymore," she murmured, tears welling in her eyes as she looked away, staring at anything not him.
He stood up and was by her side in an instant, wiping at the tears that had yet to fall. He took her chin and tilted it up to look at her, "Riza look at me," she shook her head, keeping her eyes sealed shut, "Look at me," he repeated, and she shook her head again.
Finally he was forced to take drastic action. He wrapped his arms around her stiff body, leaned down, and kissed her, catching her off guard completely.
She immediately relaxed into the kiss as he held her to him. When they broke apart, she rested her head against his chest and he ran his hands through her hair soothingly.
"You don't ever need to be jealous of them. You are worth more to me than the world," he murmured soothingly.
He felt her body shake as she cried into his uniform. They stood like that until Riza regained her composure and then longer.
He loomed down at her, "Don't ever think like that," he said, staring into amber eyes.
She took a step back and turned away, "It's hard not to think like that when it's true. Good night, Colonel," she mumbled, rushing out of the office, leaving a stunned looming Roy in her wake.
With a heavy sigh, he collapsed hi chair, trying to think of how to fix this. After a few minutes, he smiled, pulling out a piece of paper and getting to work.
Unlocking the door, Hawkeye was the first in the office, as per the norm. The Colonel was sprawled out over the couch against the wall fast asleep. With a small smile, she sat at her desk after exiting his little office.
She was not expecting the piece of paper sitting on her desk, folded in half, with her name scribbled in Mustangs handwriting. She smiled softly, reading the words within.
Roses Are Red
Violets Are Blue
You're My Best Friend
And I Love You
She smiled, folding up the note and tucking it away, before murmuring to herself, "He really is a horrible poet,"
A/N: Leave a review if you have a moment