Author's Note: This was inspired by a certain episode and is a different take on one for the scenes. Please forgive for tweaking some of, or forgetting lines near the end. This is pretty much my first stab at FMA, so let me know how I did.
Glasses:
It wasn't very unusual to find that Roy Mustang was working late, or that his loyal sub-ordinate Riza Hawkeye was still in the office for company. It wasn't even strange that a black and white dog by the name of Black Hayate lay curled near his feet. What was odd for the young colonel was the fact that he was trying his best to finish the entire load. Most nights Riza needed to practically hold him at gun point, most nights he still left a pile of work even once his lieutenant had given into going home.
"Hawkeye, you know what tomorrow is don't you?" Roy asked, causing the woman to look up from the novel she'd been reading.
"Friday sir." Hawkeye supplied, clearly confused as to why the detail was important.
"I meant the date, lieutenant." Roy said, a smirk playing across his lips as he signed another paper.
"It's the fourteenth, sir." She still didn't quiet get what the man meant, even as he finished signing the last paper. Riza blinked, noticing that he'd actually done it all for once and watched as he stood.
"Ready to go home?" Roy asked, Black Hayate actually trotted over and stuff his head in a shoulder bag Riza brought. When he pulled his head back out he was holding his leash and he came back over to Roy. The man knelt and took the leash from the dog, clipping it onto his collar as Riza got her things together.
The walk from head quarters to Riza's apartment wasn't long, only about ten minutes in fact. The whole time Hayate trotted happily at their feet and Roy eyed his lieutenant. Riza had taken to reading as she walked down the side walk, knowing neither Roy nor Hayate would let her walk into anything.
"Good book?" Roy asked, leaning over her shoulder and causing his breath to wash over her neck as he spoke. Riza shivered a bit as the sudden heat, than cold, washed across her skin. She looked at him and noticed for the first time that they'd reached her building.
"Yes sir, it's actually a romance novel." She admitted, wanting to take the words back when Roy smirked at her.
"Is it now?" He took the book lightly from her hands and read the page it was open to, his eyebrow going up as he did so. Riza turned slightly red and chose to focus instead on kneeling to pet Black Hayate. "Not bad, but the guy's lines are pretty cheesy. Who says something like: My heart is beating like a wild rabbit? Actually, now that I think about, why does it always seem the guy is a blonde and the woman has dark hair?"
"I don't know sir; maybe the author just likes it that way." Riza responded as Roy placed something in the book to mark the page, closing it and handing it back to her. He looked at the cover art as she took it and noticed that it had a young woman wearing glasses and a blonde man in what appeared to be a uniform.
"Well, good night Lieutenant and I'll see you at work." Roy said as he nodded his good bye and started back the way they'd come. Riza looked to Hayate and the dog seemed as confused as she was.
"At least he did his paper work today." Riza stated, leading her dog inside. She didn't touch the book again until she'd had her shower and changed for bed. Then she picked it up, climbing into bed carefully so she didn't kick Hayate (who was hiding somewhere under the blankets) and settled down to read a little before she slept. As she opened the book however something feel out.
"A note?" Riza looked at it carefully, realizing it was what Roy had placed inside the book and almost dreading what it might be. As she opened it she was surprised though.
"To Riza Hawkeye.
Happy Valentine's Day, lieutenant. With the things that have happened recently I've been reminded just how easily I could lose a friend, so I didn't want to risk not saying something. Hawkeye, with out you I'd probably never make it though a day and yet I never really thanked you for nay of it. I hate writing these things you know, love letters. I get them in the mail all the time, but I've never been able to get out what I want to say in them.
I wanted to get you a gift, but some how flowers and candy didn't seem like your thing. I'd get you bullets but I doubt I'd find the right ones and you can get as many as you need anyway. A stuffed animal is pointless, considering Black Hayate trumps it. . . So I decided to do something I don't normally do, my paper work. Well, and you should check your desk drawer tomorrow.
Love,
Roy Mustang"
Riza smiled, now it made sense why he'd done his work so easily. She was slightly relieved, considering she was starting to wonder if he caught a cold or something.
Roy was at his desk, head bent over a pile of papers, as Riza entered the next morning. She set down her bag and walked over to his desk, picking up an empty coffee cup and disappearing for a moment before coming back. Roy looked up at the smell of fresh coffee and found a box in front of his eyes. He glanced up, finding that Riza was holding out the red box of chocolate and smiled.
Once she'd set his coffee down, and he'd taken the chocolates, she disappeared again. Roy smirked as he opened the box and popped a chocolate in his mouth, continuing to work as he did so. He'd resolved that until the holiday was over he'd do the paperwork with out Riza needing to nag him about it.
"Did I just see that?" Master Sergeant Fuery whispered to Lieutenant Breda. The heavy set man nodded, and then turned his attention back to the coffee he'd nearly poured on his own hand.
"Best not to think too much about it, Sergeant." Breda filled Fuery's cup next, grinning at the shorter man. "Someday they'll either admit or both will snap, and if they snap I plan to run."
Fuery looked again toward Mustang as the man seemed to humming to himself as he worked at the papers stacked before him. It was extremely creepy to see him so happy to be doing work, and with that thought in mind the young sergeant chose to find other ways to occupy his mind.
It seemed as persistent as a law of alchemy, Roy Mustang lamented to himself as he thought again over the orders they'd received. For any one good day, there had to be ten years of bad ones.
"So what are you going to do now?" Havoc asked, his blue eyes regarding Mustang from where he sat up in the hospital bed. His arm was well wrapped and he was under strict orders not to so much as leave the room.
"Start a war in the north it seems." Mustang said in an almost causal manner. Hawkeye stood silently near the foot of the bed, a clip board of documents in hand and amber eyes watching him carefully. "I doubt our Furher will be happy until everyone connected to Hughes is dead."
"I wish I could go with you." Havoc said and no one could miss the slight note of guilt in his voice.
"And here's your companion." Mustang said cheerfully just as Master Sergeant Fuery entered the room. Fuery was confused even as he came to attention, noting First Lieutenant Hawkeye's serious demean as she walked toward him.
"Master Sergeant Kain Fuery." She began, Mustang hovering only a foot or two behind her as if waiting. Amber eyes focus on the paperwork clipped to the board in her hands. "It was discovered during your last physical that you had athletes foot on your left foot, we now believe it is affecting your brain."
"It seems we just can't mobilize you." Mustang put in and stepped forward. The Flame Alchemist nearly picked the shorter man up, forcing him to lie in the bed beside Havoc's. Mustang removed the glasses from the sergeant's face and turned with out missing a beat.
Hawkeye turned, watching his actions, and was slightly surprised when he carefully placed Fuery's glasses over her eyes and stood back. Mustang placed one hand to his chin and smirked as he carefully examined her new appearance.
"Not bad at all." He said, thinking again of the cover of Hawkeye's book. The small inside joke was not lost on the lieutenant even as she hid it and merely adjusted the glasses upon her face.
"Very funny sir."
AN.
If anyone is puzzling, just take a look back at the description of the book cover. Also, please forgive Roy's note. . . But I kind of find the idea of him being bad at love letters somehow fitting.