Nail Polish
Summary: Sometimes, curiosity gets the better of Roy Mustang. Curiosity. . .and embarrassment.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the following characters or any other trademarks.
A/N: There is a list of other ff I write in my other fics, and if you want I'll write you Lost fics too. Did I mention that I love Lost?
It was a phantom scent that invaded the office on the first Friday of summer. Summer is meant to smell of freshly cut grass, flowers, and occasionally the smell of rain before a storm.
In all his years, in all his summers, Roy had never smelt anything quite like it. It was fake, plastic, toxic. . .and yet, he couldn't help but like it. He breathed in deeply, then again, before succumbing to a mystery-smell-induced coughing fit.
He murmured to himself as he put away his file and surveyed the empty office. "Mental note: Nice but sharp, pretty but deadly." He couldn't help but smile as this description brought forth thoughts of Riza Hawkeye to his mind, making him smile.
Roy shook his head, trying to clear his mind of her smile. He had to find the source of the smell.
Slowly, he extricated himself from his chair and stood up. Glancing guiltily at the amassing paperwork that he was ignoring, he headed towards the door, on the trail of the scent. However, as he left the room, the mystery scent faded and was replaced by many others; fish, rice, noodles and vegetables. He realised, with considerable annoyance, that it was lunch time, hence the empty office and the overpowering smell of food.
His stomach grumbled, but he gave it no attention to it as he retraced his steps back to his desk.
The smell hit him anew.
It was coming from somewhere in the room.
Slowly Roy trod patterns on the floor, weaving this way and that, taking mental notes as to which parts of the room had a stronger smell. Eventually he narrowed it down to one part of the room, and he headed back to it, starting up his dance-like movements again, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the source of the smell.
"I'm getting close." He said it out loud, almost as if to reassure himself.
"Close to what, sir?"
Roy started, spinning around to find Hawkeye standing in the doorway, staring at him strangely.
Before he could speak, she continued.
"Sir, I believe you are standing on my chair."
He looked down to find that this was, indeed, where he was standing. At this point, he was struck by how ridiculous he must look, and by how ridiculous his explanation was.
"There was a smell. I wanted to know what it was." He said, somewhat feebly.
"You mean Nail Polish, sir?"
She walked over to where he was and looked up at him. He stared down at her.
"Nail. . .polish?"
She reached into a draw and pulled out a bottle of open nail polish and screwed the lid back on.
"I must have left it open. Sorry."
Roy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, and hopped off the chair to inspect the bottle that Riza held aloft. He lowered his face close to the bottle and glared at it.
It wasn't until he looked away from the bottle that he realised how close his face was to Hawkeye's.
His nose was inches from hers, and she was starting to blush.
"Nail polish, Hawkeye?"
The blush was spreading, but she didn't look, or move, away.
"Whatever your reservations, sir, I am a female."
Roy smiled and moved slightly closer, taking the bottle from her hand and setting it on the desk. They both looked at it, and then back at each other.
"Evidently."
And he kissed her.