Totally unbeta-ed. May contain spoilers of Roy's past, but nothing very useful. Read at your own risk.
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The room upstairs
Usually, Roy didn't drink alone. He thought it was kind of pathetic.
When he went to the bar, he was always surrounded, whether was it by his subordinates who enjoyed making him drunk; Havoc loved to prove that he was a heavier drinker than his boss, or simply with Hughes. In this case, Roy was much more moderate in his use of alcohol and he tried to stay sober enough to discuss with his friend somewhere safe of any eavesdroppers. Nothing was better than a crowded bar to have a quiet conversation about a possible coup against the Führer.
The problem now was Hughes had died and his subordinates were scattered all across the country. So he had no choice: he drank alone. And glass after glass, he tried to drown his sorrow and to forget how sinister it was to be there with nobody to share his alcohol with.
The bartender, Madam Christmas, personally ensured that he always had a full bottle by his side. Always Scotch and the best she had. She treated Roy like a young prince, even better than usual because she knew how he felt. She was even tempted to suggest him to go upstairs with one of her girls, but he would never do it. He wasn't like that. There was only one woman for Roy and he was unlikely to get her in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Although given his condition, he probably could not go home alone and it would be better for everyone if he spent the night here.
As he began to feel tipsy, the colonel slipped a note to the bartender and asked her to call the lieutenant Hawkeye. It was rare to see him looking for help from someone, especially from his assistant known for her severity, so all the girls around him stared at him without understanding why he asked for her. Madam Christmas sent them back to distract other customers and undertook to call the sniper personally.
Despite the concerns of the girls, Roy knew he had nothing to fear from the young sniper. She was no longer working under his command so she wouldn't accuse him of procrastinating the next day when he had to cure his hangover. Of course, she would still astonish him for getting drunk, but she wouldn't be really mad.
Anyway, for now, the Colonel went on drinking, even if he knew he should have stopped a few glassed ago. Alcohol was rushing to his head and gradually, he was forgetting about all the mistakes he had made. Moreover, the fumes of tobacco around him kept him in a white world of illusions where everything was colorful and smelt slightly sweet; a very different world from the desert which smelt of burned flesh and blood and that always went haunt him when he had spare time.
And then, just when he thought he was lost between his nightmare and a blur of reality, she was by his side, looking more angelic than ever in the middle of the hellish scene he tried to escape. With her long blonde hair and her light cotton dress, she almost seemed unreal. The simplicity of her demeanor contrasted with the other girls always dressed so alluring and colorful. But not her. Her clothes were classic, dim and soft and it enhanced her milky skin and porcelain face.
Only her eyes, really dark and hard, showed who she really was and what she had seen. Under an apparent serenity, she hided a pain and a guilt as intense as the Colonel's. Her hazel eyes, sharp, obsessive, were so constantly fixed on him he wanted nothing more than to drown in. But despite the confusion of drunkenness, Roy sensed immediately the note of concern in her posture, so he tried to clear his mind.
Even in civilian clothes, Liza Hawkeye still saw her as her protector. And although her duties had changed and she worked for another, she hadn't forgotten her promise to watch his back. Whatever the circumstances were.
With a tired sigh, the young woman placed her hand on the glass of his former boss and pushed it away. Then she grabbed the bottle of Scotch and handed it with a sad smile to Madam Christmas who merely rose an eyebrow, looking at them one after another.
"You should get a room, dear. He's not able to go home, even with you."
Liza shook her head and thanked the owner politely before asking the colonel if he could stand. Roy nodded and got off his stool before collapsing into his former lieutenant's arms.
Several girls surrounded them and offered to help, but Lisa refused with a cold smile before she decided she had no other choice than to get upstairs. Madam Christmas was right, she couldn't bring him back home, even if she had a car.
Therefore, she chose to help him to the next floor, at least for the time he cooled down. Even if she couldn't take a room for her, she could still get Roy to his. Officially, he had a room booked every night because he was a regular but no one could guess none of the girls in the bar would ever go there since his room was under the roof, well above those used by the customers. But Liza knew all that already. She knew the story was behind the colonel's room and why it was so different from the others, quieter, more isolated and much smaller.
At each step they took, the memories came back. This wasn't the first time they climbed the stairs together although it was something new to do it in these circumstances. Never since she joined his team six years earlier had she set foot in this place. She had come to the bar a few time because Havoc and the others had made him so drunk he couldn't have driven home, but she had never gone upstairs. She couldn't.
A mixture of nostalgia, sadness and fear shook her stomach as Roy found enough balance to reach the second floor by himself. Had she made the right decision in following him? She was well aware of everything they had shared between theses walls and she couldn't deny being tempted to relive those moments of pleasure and tenderness again, when he'd pressed his body against hers, kissing her like no tomorrow.
Roy missed the last step, a rather treacherous one, and Liza had to intervene again to prevent him from falling. That way, she kept her mind on the task at hand, or at least, she tried.
As they went closer to the attic, her heart began to beat faster. She couldn't help but remember everything they had done in this small dark hallway when the desire was burning their skin and they didn't have the strength to wait. His hands slipped under her skirt, his lips were running down her neck, her laughter as he tried to unhook her stockings before moving his fingers under the hem of her panties...
She hold the alchemist by the waist and she helped him for the last steps to the door on her right. She opened it quietly and slipped slowly into the room while Roy staggered to bed. Nothing had changed in six years and both of them remained silent when they realized how dangerous it was for them to be here, together, with nobody to see or disturb them.
The colonel held out his hand as if to invite her on the bed with him and the young woman felt a lump growing in her throat. She couldn't, she had no right to do it and yet it was so easy to yield to the temptation.
This wouldn't be the first time she'd end up in his bed and she knew everything awaited her was sweetness and pleasure. Seeing her hesitation, Roy tried to clarify his proposition.
"I'm drunk," he said in a husky and tired voice.
Liza frowned at that obvious statement. He sighed and rose slowly on his elbow to look at her.
"That means that even if I wanted, and God knows I do, I couldn't even be a lame lover. And you deserve better than a clumsy excuse of a man. So I won't do anything to you."
Liza shook her head to keep her from smiling openly. His blunt honesty was rather amusing and she found him nice to still care about her in his state. She sat on the bed beside him and Roy rolled to put an arm around her waist. Smiling, the woman moved a bit more on the mattress, perpendicular to the colonel and she leaned her back against the wall to get in the right position for him to use her laps as a pillow.
Without thinking, she began to stroke his hair while the memories came back once again. Roy whispered a few words, suggesting he had not forgotten the first time he had led her in this room, his room, or anything that had followed. At first, he hadn't had bad intentions, he'd been happy to be with her, to show her his world, where he'd grown up. Then it became a ritual and the years passing, Liza had known this small isolated room better than hers. It was calm and quiet, away from the hubbub of the bar, but exuding a joyful atmosphere much more vivid than where she lived with her father.
They'd shared their first kiss on the desk. She'd been sitting on the corner and Roy had been on the chair. He'd kissed her as she 'd bent to pick up a book on the stack on the other side.
The alcohol loosened his tongue. He would never have confess he'd fallen for her when they were children had he been sober. But what surprised her most was when he spoke of the first night they spent together before he enlisted. He finally revealed what he had kept hidden until now.
At that time, he was barely eighteen and she was just sixteen. She had lied to her father by pretending to sleep at a friend's and she'd followed him to Central. She hadn't really thought about the consequences of her decision, she'd just wanted to say goodbye properly. And they'd talked for too long. She'd assumed she'd take the last train, but Roy had refused to let her go after dark. And now that alcohol blurred his mind, he admitted not having been really honest with her by inviting her to share his room that night. He hadn't thought things would go so far, but clearly, he had hoped so.
Roy put his hand on her knee as he recalled how he had first touched her there because he'd been afraid to frighten her or to rush too much. It was the first time for them both and even if he had got some information from his 'sisters', he'd been quite terrified of not being good enough.
Liza clasped his hand in hers and whispered that he'd been perfect. That night, as well as the others. He had make her discover some unexpected pleasures she hadn't forgotten. And just to talk about it made her body react like it had that night.
The intensity of his caresses, the ferocity of his kisses, the ability of his hands, the warmth of his skin. Everything was still present and both of them hoped that one day they may again enjoy the delights of this kind of things.
Unfortunately, for now they had no right to do so. All they could do was remember.