A/N: I haven't written a fic in years, but the idea for this hit me at the beginning of the summer when I was feeling a Royai drought and wouldn't leave me alone. There just aren't enough modern AU Royai! It's inspired by the chapter 'It's Not That Sort of Thing' in Kitsune Moonstar's An Apple a Day, which is a great source of Royai drabbles if you need a quick shot of fluff. :D Many thanks to Lampshaded for letting me bounce ideas off of you, even if you aren't into FMA. :3

Warnings: Slight spoilers for manga chapter 58.

Disclaimer: FMA and all of its characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa and whoever else gets to legally play with them. I'm just borrowing them.

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Snapshots

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Since before they had been born, Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye had been next-door neighbors. The toddler Roy had been slightly disconcerted when the infant Riza was first brought over on occasion, but once her mother died, he got used to the girl's daily presence. His mother babysat Riza for Mr. Hawkeye while he worked, and the children quickly became fast friends.

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The first winter that Riza could remember, Roy took her to the tallest hill in town. There was barely enough snow on the ground to cover the dried grass, but they went up and down the hill on Roy's old sled until they could barely walk. When the pair returned, they shared mugs of hot cocoa at Roy's kitchen table, swinging their short legs against the rungs of the chairs.

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Riza's first trike was liberating for her. No longer would she be made to watch as Roy zoomed up and down the street on his bike. No, no—now she could follow him wherever he went! Albeit a little slower, Riza shadowed Roy as he made his rounds through the neighborhood, and he would pause at the ends of blocks to give her time to catch up. She'd beam at him as she pedaled up, content with just herself, Roy, and the hot pavement.

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The year Roy went off to second grade, Riza felt deserted. She'd already had to get used to him going off to school every day, but now a boy called Maes took up his time as well. They'd walk back together in the afternoons and play, Riza watching from another room. Then, Maes asked if she'd like to play with them, on the stipulation that they never play house. She immediately agreed, and together they bounded off to look for frogs outside.

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For Roy's eighth birthday, his mother gave him a set of play pirates' swords. Roy and Maes mock-dueled each other at once, placing Riza on a chair as the pirates' captive to be won by the better fighter. Riza, however, protested that she wanted to play, too, to which Roy said that it was a boys' game. Once doused by her water gun, Roy rescinded his opinion and let her join in.

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The rain pounding against the windows kept the two children from going outside, but that didn't stop them from having fun. First they tried playing video games, but Riza got frustrated at Roy's propensity to beat her at every fighting game he owned. Next they played Life, but Roy got bored halfway across the board. Finally they decided to build a fort, using blankets from Roy's bed and the kitchen chairs, plopping down on couch cushions when they'd finished their masterpiece. They fell asleep there, and Roy's mother roused them when Mr. Hawkeye came to pick up his daughter.

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Roy was the one who taught Riza how to swim. Day after day, he'd patiently hold her up in the water and coach her through the motions while Maes did cannonballs into the pool next to them. When she finally managed to swim across the length of the pool by herself, she hugged Roy tightly in excitement; then, he dunked her.

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The Elrics lived down the block from the Hawkeyes and the Mustangs, and sometimes Ed, Al, and their friend Winry would come over to play. Invariably, Roy would make fun of Ed's height, setting off a fight that would continue until Riza pulled out her slingshot and Winry her plastic wrench. The boys knew neither would hesitate to put them to good use, and they had the bruises to prove it.

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Giggling, Riza's eyes opened to alight upon the cutest puppy she'd ever seen. Small and black with a white underside, snout, and dots for eyebrows, he had a big red ribbon tied around his neck. Promptly naming him Black Hayate, she shyly let him sniff her hand, then scooped the dog up and petted him softly around the ears. Scolding the puppy when he tried to lick her mouth, she turned her shining face to Roy in thanks, and he laughingly smiled back.

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Roy had always hated doing homework. His exasperated teacher finally sent a note home to his mother, and Riza declared herself enforcer of keeping the boy on task. While he grumbled over his social studies worksheets and she colored in her sketch book, there would always be a ruler at hand. The moment Roy's dark head lifted and his mouth opened, he'd receive a sharp rap on the back of his head and a glare until he reluctantly went back to work.

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The day Roy found Riza's stash of Barbie dolls spelled certain doom for what was left of her childishly girly side. He laughed and paraded them up and down her bed, making fun of the frilly outfits and well-kept hair as she flushed in embarrassment. Later, when he'd left, she angrily yanked the clothes off the dolls, throwing the resulting heap of fabric and plastic into her trash can. Never again would she play with dolls where she could be found out.

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Neither Roy nor Riza had ever been roller skating before, but they figured it was worth a try. Riza caught on first and skated circles around Roy while he got off to yet another jerky start, but when he pitched toward the floor of the rink for a fourth time, Riza announced that she'd help him. Putting her arm around his waist—he'd entered a growth spurt—, she guided him through the leg movements and helped him keep his balance. Soon, he was chasing her across the rink until they were breathless.

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An old Ford Mustang was the car Roy received for his sixteenth birthday, red underneath the accumulated grime from years of sitting in a garage. As soon as he'd cleaned and tuned it up, he took Riza for a ride around town. The convertible roof was down, and he delighted in the sight of her blonde hair, which she seldom left down anymore, flying free behind her.

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One hot summer day, Roy and Maes took to the roof of Roy's house to patch some holes. While not a fan of Maes—too skinny for her tastes—Riza couldn't help but drool over the sight of Roy's sweat-soaked shirt flexing over his shoulder blades and arms as he worked. Every time he took a swig of water, her mouth would go dry watching his Adam's apple move up and down. When he finally stooped to throw off his shirt to be cooler, she sprinted to the bathroom to douse her head in cold water. Closing her blinds, she tried to banish thoughts of Roy's physique from her mind and forced herself to reread the same page of her book until she was utterly certain they'd finished working for the day.

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Riza's freshman year of high school, she discovered Roy's reputation as a ladies' man. They were constantly flocking around him, practically throwing themselves at the tall, dark-haired youth as he flirted and grinned lazily at them. Not a one of them noticed the quiet girl standing off to the side, but every now and then Roy's gaze would wander to her, and he'd flash her a real smile, one just for her.

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Roy was a terrible correspondent. He'd promised Riza he'd write steadily all through his first year at college, but for every three thick envelopes she sent him, she was lucky to receive a hastily-scribbled postcard telling of his latest dating exploits. Maes, on the other hand, delighted in sending packages to Riza, each containing countless photos of himself and his new girlfriend, Gracia.

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The first day Roy returned from college in time to visit Riza directly after school, he happened upon an unhappy occurrence: some new guy with tan hair was mercilessly flirting with Riza. Disregarding the fact that she was calmly ignoring it, he glared daggers at the boy until he began to edge away. When she realized what was going on, Riza chastised Roy for scaring Jean and introduced them to each other. Roy still glared at Jean for months, and Jean likewise kept his distance from Roy whenever he was around.

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Riza's junior year, she discovered the true evils of math. Her trigonometry homework was incomprehensible to her, but, being the perfectionist that she was, she persevered to pass seemingly without effort. To achieve this, she had Roy on the phone for hours every evening, going through the concepts behind each problem until she thoroughly understood. Each time she'd ask what the use of understanding sine and cosine was for a future English major, he'd laugh and reply that she'd signed up for the class, to which she had no retort.

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For Riza's senior prom, Roy was accosted for use as her date. Even if he was in college, Roy was the closest male friend she had and the only one she would be comfortable around in a dress for several hours. If she was secretly more pleased than she let on, she blamed the red tinge to her cheeks on the small room and the dancing hoards of students. Maes and Jean teased them for weeks.

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Moving Roy into his first real apartment was a big task; one Riza was determined to take on by herself. Alone, she lugged box after heavy box up the four flights of stairs—that is, until she bumped into the edge of a table and dropped a box full of photos. Head hung, she listened to Roy lecture her as she looked at the cracked glass of a photo of the two together as children, laughing while getting ice cream all over themselves. She'd never seen him so angry.

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Why Maes had decided to buy a trampoline, Roy had no idea, but the first chance he got he dragged Riza over and forced her onto it with him. Though skeptical at first, soon the blonde was having so much fun that her sides hurt from laughing at how silly Roy looked. Grown men weren't supposed to enjoy jumping up and down for hours, after all. It was the most fun they'd had in years, and Riza felt the stress of tests and projects melt away as she gave into feeling like a child again.

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When Roy decided to work on his doctorial thesis in thermochemistry under the supervision of Riza's father, he wound up spending many a late night at the Hawkeye residence. Every time Riza found him slumped over the kitchen table, sound asleep, she'd steal an afghan from the arm of the couch, drape it over his shoulders, and leave a glass of water next to his elbow before padding back to her room for the night.

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It was late at night when Roy received the phone call, while he was finishing a project due the next morning. He drove as quickly as he could to Riza's, ready to pound on the door until she let him in. Her face was pale in the porch light, her eyes red and puffy. Roy pulled her into his chest as she let out a sob and led her to the couch, closing the door behind him. Exhausted, she finally fell asleep tucked underneath one of his arms as the sun began to light the sky. The next day he helped her with funeral arrangements.

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Maes and Gracia married young, but no one could begrudge them their happiness. From his spot as best man, Roy watched Riza seated on the groom's side, wishing she'd been named as a bride's maid so he could see her in that pale blue dress with a slit up the left side. Her gown was modest, though the ringlets of loose hair framing her face led his eyes to her slim neck, and his mind turned to how he'd like to kiss a line down it and run his fingers softly through her golden hair. Swallowing, he quickly squashed his train of thought and turned away, imagining Maes in a bikini.

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Riza had been stargazing for a good half hour, naming what constellations she could, before Roy wandered out to join her. He lay back on the grass next to her, body so close she could feel the heat emanating from it. As he made up new constellations and told her their stories, she inched closer so that her head wound up resting on his stomach, Roy's arm draped over her. Slowly, she intertwined their fingers and felt his thumb smooth the skin on the back of her hand.

"I love you," he murmured quietly.

"I know," she whispered back.