Riza set the paperwork she had been completing to the side and glanced at her superior, who was struggling to focus on the documents before him, in order to get the task done. His brow was furrowed, and the sound of his pen scratching looping arches of print across the page filled the nearly vacant room. She felt a soft smile slide into place at the amusement his frantic writing presented. How could he have put off these documents with the knowledge that they were expected tomorrow, no questions asked? His affairs with the tempting mistress of procrastination sometimes astounded her.

It was around 11:00 pm, and everyone excluding the couple had ventured home, rather than help the colonel clean up the aftermath of his procrastination. The room was growing stuffier, and Roy sat up to adjust his collar to alleviate the discomfort the humidity presented. In the act, he caught Riza's gaze. He smirked playfully, but said nothing, as there was no need to. After their time growing up together, working together and fighting together in Ishval, they could read each other's body language to the slightest twitch of the eyelid.

Riza averted her gaze, shoving down both her annoyance at Mustang's smugness, and her slight embarrassment at getting caught gazing at her superior. Mustang allowed a small, throaty chuckle slip through his throat and spun his chair 180 degrees to face the window that loomed behind him. He grasped the bottom of the frame, and pulled, the metal groaning in protest at his actions, but gave way with a squeak soon after. The cool night air instantly flowed into the room, and Riza breathed it in with silent relief. The breeze brought the indistinguishable scents of the outside world with it, and Riza's thoughts strayed to Black Hayate, hoping he wouldn't be too upset by her tardiness. She pulled the stack of documents back towards herself, reasoning that the sooner she finished it, the sooner she would get to go home to her dog.

After another fifteen minutes of silence only broken by the shuffling of paper or the scratching of pens, Mustang stood up abruptly and stretched, his shirt untucking as he did so. He picked up the stack of papers he had been working on, and tapped them on the table a few times to straighten them out, then once more for good measure. He opened a drawer to his left and grabbed a tan envelope, sliding the documents carefully inside, before securing the clasp with a half smile of relief. He walked over to Riza and leaned against her desk, nearly jostling her hand out of place as she was signing. She sighed and gave him a look of annoyance, glad her hand hadn't slipped and ran a line of ink over the document, destroying her work up to this point.

"I'm going to deliver these reports to the the third floor, while the documents you're completing need to go to the archive room. After you drop them off you can go home," Mustang explained, tapping the envelope on the edge of her desk as he spoke.

"Alright. I'll see you in the morning Sir. Get some sleep tonight," Riza replied with a hint of monotone, not looking up from her work as she continued to ink characters onto the parchment. Mustang nodded and sauntered over to the door, and the sound of it creaking open tore through the stillness of the office. Afterwards the silence as heavy as a guilty conscious hung on the air. Oddly enough, the sound of the door clicking shut, or the staccato footsteps of the colonel were absent. Riza felt uneasy due to the uncanny silence, and looked up, discovering the truth behind the lack of noise. Mustang had been standing in the door frame, smiling warmly.

"Good night, Hawkeye," he purred, the gentle words melting on the air, thick with undisguised affection.

"Good night, Colonel," Riza replied, gifting him with a genuinely soft smile.

Mustang gave Riza one last heartfelt smile, before turning on his heels and letting the door click behind him. Riza let out a sigh of happiness, warmth teasing her cheeks. She blinked and began looking over her work, a stoic expression replacing her previously blissful one. Thankfully, she was nearly finished, with about a page and a half left to complete. As she skimmed, a single word caught her eye and she backtracked, resetting her gaze on the notable word and focusing on it with greater interest.

"Lior…" she muttered out loud, her voice holding a trace of wonder. "Weren't the Elric brothers there a couple weeks ago?"

She flipped to the cover page of the document, and began analyzing the page thoroughly, tucking her pen behind her ear as her eyes darted down each line of text. Her eyes rapidly widened as she progressed further down the report. Lior was in total anarchy, with brutal fighting taking place between the supporters of the corrupt priest Cornello, and those who thought of him as a fraud. Hadn't the Elric brothers removed the priest from power without too much violence? How had he regained his so called power if his false philosopher's stone had been destroyed? The whole rebellion had no rhyme or reason.

"Just like… the Ishvalan War," She concluded under her breath, as memories of the bloodshed overcame her mind. The screams of children rang in her ears, the smell of death choked her, and the heat of the desert scorched her skin. Memories of sharing sleeping space with Mustang also entered her thoughts, where they stayed up late confessing their sins of the day to each other. Just how could this be happening again? It was almost like the whole uprising had been planned.

Riza stood up with so much force that her chair fell to the floor with a clatter. Could it have been planned? She grabbed the documents with such haste that the thick paper became crumpled under the force of her fingers. She nearly tripped over her desk as she rushed by, and stopped to compose herself, taking deep breaths to slow her increasing heart rate. She continued with a brisk walk to the door, stopping before it and taking one last deep breath that caused a tremor to shoot through her body. She slowly opened the door, took a single step into the dim hallway, and pulled the door to a close, her hand gripping the handle so hard that she could feel it grow hot in her grip. She released it in a mechanical motion, and proceeded down the hall, trying to calm down and remain inconspicuous.

She internally sighed in relief as the archive room entered her peripheral vision as she turned the corner. She glanced around, seeing no one, but kept her guard up. Riza entered the room and shut the door behind her, sighing as it clicked into place. Her eyes darted around the room and she began the task of collecting the resources she felt would help shed some light on the Lior rebellion, and hopefully the Ishval War as well. The Ishvalan people deserved closure on that event, and Riza had to admit, it would help her burn some personal bridges as well.

After examining what she could find, she unraveled a large map of Amestris and pulled the pen out from behind her ear, circling Ishval, then Lior, and followed suit with other rebellions that had happened in past years. Her mind strayed to the homunculi and Philosopher Stones as she did so, remembering Edward's descriptions and report after the incident with the Fifth Laboratory. She took her pen and connected the circled cities, taking into consideration that some of the pieces may be missing, or had not been targeted yet. The pen fell out of her grasp as she finished, her mouth gaping in shock.

"What the hell? Who could be planning something so horrible, and why for that matter?" she whispered to herself. An almost inaudible click sounded and Riza jumped to her feet, glaring at the now open door, hand resting on her holster. An unknown woman maliciously smirked at her, one hand on her cocked hip. Riza's eyebrows furrowed and she began analyzing the situation, noting the ouroboros tattoo on the other woman's chest. A homunculus in the flesh.

"Hello, Lieutenant Hawkeye, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, though sadly 'hello' isn't quite the word I'm looking for," the woman said darkly, her fingernails extending into thin lances.

"I mean no offense, but that is a tacky location for a tattoo," Hawkeye responded, allowing herself to smirk back at the monster.

"Those are your last words? I'm so hurt Lieutenant, I'd much rather you scream," the woman said smoothly, lashing out at Hawkeye. Riza managed to dodge four of the deadly appendages, pulling out her pistol and shooting the woman once in the head and twice in the chest, but got caught in the shoulder by the woman's ring finger as she slumped to the ground. Riza's breath hitched in her throat at the agony ripping through her shoulder, gritting her teeth to hold back a groan. She fought the pain and began to lethargically walk to the door, hoping she wouldn't lose too much blood from the deep wound.

Riza burst through the door, and her knees failed her for a moment, causing her to fall to the merciless ground. She grimaced, and pushed herself up with her elbow, shakily getting to her feet. She proceeded another few steps, and slumped against the wall, her breathing becoming labored. She slipped off her jacket, and made a hasty sling to hold her injured arm for easier transport. Her mind was racing, and she continued forward, knowing she had to pass this information on to Mustang. Riza proceeded past the Military lines, ignoring the alarmed cry of the woman at the desk.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye! Are you okay? You're hurt!"

Riza looked back at her, fighting the blood loss. "I need… to make a call," she gasped.

"Then let me help you to a phone!"

"I can't," Riza replied, continuing forward. "Not here. Not on these phones."

Riza left the building and proceeded to stumble to her apartment. After a few unsuccessful attempts at unlocking the door, she finally was able to get in, failing to shut it behind her in her urgency to get to the phone. She grabbed the phone and swiftly punched the number she knew by heart into the machine. As it ran, she prayed he would answer.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye, please put down the phone," a calm voice ordered.

Riza looked over her shoulder and was surprised to see Edward standing there, gun pointed in her direction.

"H-Hey, pipsqueak… what are you doing here? I thought you left with Al and Winry," Hawkeye said, analyzing the boy.

"I left something in Central that I needed," Ed said, "but you have to come in and explain what happened to you back there, Lieutenant."

Hawkeye glared at him, and discretely began to pull out her own gun with her free hand. "You aren't Edward. He hates guns, and you didn't throw a fit when I called you 'pipsqueak'. Who the hell are you?" she growled, turning back to the phone.

"Ed" smiled maliciously. "Damn. I thought I had the twerp down pretty well. I forgot about his height complex," he said in a gruff voice; nothing like the real Edward Elric's tone. He glanced around the apartment as he talked, taking in his surroundings. Unbeknownst to Riza, his gaze settled on a photo of her and Roy framed on the coffee table.

"I have someone to protect," Riza said, cocking her gun, "so the last thing I'm going to do is die on him!" she finished, spinning on her heels, only to find her gun being pointed at Roy Mustang's face. She froze, eyes widening in shock. The monster had his face down to the last minuscule detail. The same dark eyes, that sometimes reflected blue, the same set brow, firm lips, and raven hair with shaggy bangs.

"Wh-What the hell are you?" she breathed, dropping the phone as she took a step backwards, her hand holding the gun trembling uncontrollably.

"Good night, Hawkeye."

Bang.