Disclaimer: Don't own FMA.

Author's Note: Written for Royai Winter Wonderland '07 on the fm-a forums. Theme: Baby, It's Cold Outside; Must include words: light(s), bell(s), frosted glass(/windows) and hands. Pure fluff-fuzz. Manga-based, past spoilers (ie, chapter 58-onwards) . Written . . . in the past few hours, so forgive the mediocre quality. And 2008 starts in half an hour here! Whoo!

Snowed In

Roy Mustang sighed, arms and chin resting on the back of the couch as he sat up on his knees, gazing forlornly out the window. After several months straight of studying with Hawkeye-sensei, he was finally granted a visit home; unfortunately, the blizzard had to choose now to strike. They were undeniably snowed in.

Riza came in presently, leaning over him to look out the frosted glass. "That was Father. It seems he's stuck in Central until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest."

"And I'm stuck here," the sixteen-year-old boy grumbled, eyes still fixed on the whirling whips of snow outside.

She sighed a little and sat down neatly beside him. "You'll still be able to go home once the snow clears up."

All she received was a little noise of disapproval.

"Well, you're proving to be entertaining company."

"Sorry," he turned over, offering her a lopsided smirk. "This just sucks."

She shrugged a little and set about smoothing her skirt. "Though," she said quietly, "it's nice not to be alone for once."

His gaze softened a little and he reached up to ruffle the mop of short blond hair. Thirteen years old and yet possessing the maturity of a thirty-year-old woman – she'd been forced to grow up far too soon. "Here," he said, patting her shoulder and stood. "How 'bout some hot chocolate?"

She smiled. "That sounds nice."

Ten minutes later, they'd gathered all the necessary supplies (including whipped cream and marshmallows, of course) and Roy lifted his companion by the waist to set her on the counter, where she sat watching as he worked at keeping the sweet beverage from burning.

After some amiable conversation, he decided the hot chocolate was ready. "Your mug?"

She cast around for it for a moment before holding it out, watching eagerly as he ladled some of the warm drink into it. He did the same for his own and she took the liberty of adding the toppings to both.

He hoisted himself up next to her with a grunt, lifting his drink. "Cheers."

"Cheers," she echoed, tapping her own mug against his.

"All alone in this big old house, and what do we do?" he mused, taking a drink. "Make hot cocoa."

Any other girl would have been beet red, but Riza just laughed, pointing at his nose, now covered in a dollop of whipped cream. He pawed at his face and frowned, before grabbing the can, ready to retaliate.

And he would have, had the lights not flickered and blacked out completely.

"That's not good," he supplied lamely.

"Really." There was a thump as he hopped off the counter and rustled around in the drawers. He struck a match and held it between them. "Good," she nodded. "You find some candles and I'll go run out and bring in some firewood."

"Oh, no you don't," he protested, then yelped when the match burned down and scalded his fingertips, leaving them once more in darkness. "You can't go out there!"

She felt around and pulled back the curtain, allowing the moonlight to filter in a bit so she could at least make out his silhouette. "Well, we can't just go without. If you haven't noticed, it's cold outside."

"Then I'll go," he decided, already locating his boots and coat. "You stay here and find the candles."

And before she could protest, she heard the front door slam shut, signaling his departure. "Stubborn man," she huffed.

When Roy managed to find his way back to the front door, he was actively trying to figure out what it felt like to be able to feel his fingers and toes, but alas, all his mind could focus on was the stinging sensation as snow blew right into his eyes. He balanced the large mass of wood in one arm and fumbled with the doorknob, stiff fingers not able to grasp the cold metal. After some time, he managed to throw the door open and stumble inside, letting his cargo topple to the floor. He squinted, the lights from the candles – it seemed Riza had managed to acquire every candle in Amestris – blurred. Clumsily kicking the door shut, he tried his hardest to shake the loose snow off his body.

"Didn't you even think of gloves?" Riza demanded, rushing to him to remove his cold and soggy coat and boots.

"N-n-no, I d-didn't," he stammered.

After tossing the outermost layer of his clothing in the corner to dry, she reached out and took his hands between both of her own, rubbing frantically to generate heat. "You need to be more careful, Mr. Mustang," she scolded. "You just jump to the rescue without thinking about the potential risk to your own well-being."

He didn't bother protesting, instead watching her as she brought some blood back to his poor, blue fingers. "You're warm," he said finally.

She couldn't help but let out a quick snort of laughter before pulling him to her, hands venturing over his torso, harnessing friction to bring some warmth back into his stiff body. His own hands, no longer blue, but still icy cold, snaked under her sweater and then under her blouse, pressing the backs against her bare skin.

"Mr. Mustang!" she squeaked, but realizing his intentions, didn't ask him to remove the offending appendages.

He continued to shiver and nuzzled his nose into her neck. "Sorry," he whispered.

She gave up on doing anything but this, for the time being at least, and rested her chin on his shoulder.

After Roy thawed out, they managed to get a fire going and reheat their hot chocolate over the steadily flickering flames. Their mugs were now set off to the side as they munched on cookies Riza had made a couple days prior – his was shaped like a bell and hers a star.

"You should consider a career in baking," he commented, finishing off his cookie and leaning back on his elbows, legs stretched out in front of him where the fire could warm his frost-nibbled toes.

His movement caused the blanket they were sharing to slip from her shoulders and she drew closer so she could wrap up once more. "You're joking, right?"

He shrugged, the motion a little truncated by the presence of her head against his shoulder. "You're good at it."

She raised an eyebrow, "You have great decision-making methods, you know." He chuckled and leaned his head against hers. "I'm sorry," she said, a bit more gently, "about your trip home."

"Ah, don't worry about it," he assured her. "I'd take you over my sisters any day."

Her face turned a light pink – which, if he'd have asked her, she'd have blamed on the heat from the fire – and, in a moment of boldness, she leaned up and kissed him softly on the cheek. He was more than happy to fold her in his arms and wrap the blanket more tightly around them, face buried in soft blond hair.

So what if his long-awaited trip home had been delayed, so what if the power had died and so what if he'd nearly contracted frostbite; he'd never been so content as he was watching the firelight with his sensei's daughter curled up in his arms.

Happy New Year, everyone!