A loud thump echoed throughout the room. The young lieutenant glanced up to her commanding officer from the paper she was working on. "May I ask what this is, Sir?"
"Well, dear Lieutenant Hawkeye," said commanding officer gave a smile - charming yet sinister at the same time. "This is the paperwork you are to do today."
"With all due respect, Sir, I believe those are meant for you."
"And I'm handing them to you, since I believe you have the capability to finish all of them today."
Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye eyed the towering pile of paperwork disdainfully, but her eyes were mostly focused on the top. There, a small note was attached with a piece of sticky tape: Major Solf J. Kimblee.
"Will you handle them all, Lieutenant?"
Riza recognized Kimblee's tone immediately. For people who didn't know it sounded normal, if a bit stern. But Riza knew. Kimblee was getting to a dangerous territory. A territory where his fangs and claws would be bare for her to see. Where he wouldn't think twice before hurting someone. Her. She took a deep breath, finally answering, "Yes Sir."
Kimblee straightened up immediately, dusting his blue uniform. "Good. Then get going."
In response to that Riza reached for another paperwork - her own - and worked her hands faster. From the corner of her eyes, she caught the sight of an innocent-looking envelope embroidered with elegant blue. As soon as Kimblee went away, she reached for it and opened it.
"... huh."
"A masked ball?"
The man in front of him nodded. "That's right, Roy. A masked ball. Apparently the Führer thinks it's a good idea to have all military personnel wear masks and suits and dresses and dance together until early morning to commrmorate the anniversary of Amestris."
Colonel Roy Mustang groaned. "But a masked ball, Hughes? Really?"
"Hey, it wasn't my idea, alright?" Roy' closest friend, Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, held up his hands as if in surrender. "I don't like it either, but it's mandatory. The only way you can escape it is if you're totally sick or something. Dresses and suits are a must, if we don't have one then the dress uniform it is. Worse, non-military people are not allowed! I'd rather spend my night together with my darling Gracia!"
"Still, what's with the Führer and his ideas?" Roy mumbled. "A building full of military personnels who will most likely be drunk. What if someone think this is a perfect opportunity of assasination?"
"The Führer's got it covered. He personally chose some people to be guards."
"But isn't this a good opportunity to hook up or something?" from his desk, Jean Havoc sighed, "If they can't see your face, they're forced to see your personality."
"Good luck with that, then," Heymans Breda muttered as he put a sheet of paper away.
"Well, I have to admit that it is a good opportunity to find someone," Roy mused, hand stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Having a woman backing me up would be nice."
"Of course, Roy," Hughes put his hands on Roy's shoulders. "Since you aim to become the Führer and all, you need someone you can trust with your life and will watch your back. So hurry up and find someone, and get married already!"
With the chorus of Roy's men's laughter and Roy's roaring "HUGHES!", Hughes swiftly ran away from the room.
9.23 PM
Despite his initial reluctance, Roy Mustang was having a time of his life.
The ball had only been going on for about half an hour (his calculations might be off, though, he did drink a few glasses of alcohol after all). During that amount of time he had danced with three different ladies and helped Havoc hook up with some - no such luck - and watched Breda being indifferent to the ball and concentrated on the food instead, chatting with several similar-minded people, observed Falman acting sober friend to whoever seemed to be unable to stomach alcohol - he was surprised that Falman had to act sober friend so early in the game, who gets drunk that fast? - and snickered at Fuery's shyness around women who wished to dance with him.
Beside him, Hughes was grinning like a fool, waving at people happily. He had declined many dance invitations out of his "undying love for my sweet angel Gracia", but had accepted invitations from drunk men, group dances, young, low-ranked personnels of any gender who simple wanted to fool around, and the combination of all of them. Sometimes, he even managed to drag Roy together in it.
At the moment, Roy was twirling a brunette in light pink dress, grinning, before saying, "Honestly, Miss, you're really good at thia. I would be happy to dance with you for the rest of my life."
The young woman laughed. "Too bad for you, I prefer people of my own gender!"
Roy sighed. "Ah, such loss for all men in the world. But a gift for all women, surely."
She grinned, eyes twinkling beneath red mask. "Hell yes."
As the dance ended, they agreed to get some drinks. Roy decided to introduce Havoc to the girl to have him get some advice for hooking up. Who knows, maybe with the insight from the brunette he would be a bit luckier.
His eyes swept through the enormous ballroom. So many people were around. Almost all of the ladies preferred dresses, though some wore the Amestrian blue dress uniform. Most of the men wore suits. Most chose simple masks covering the upper half of their faces, some chose to cover the lower half instead. Some people decided to goof off and wore ridiculous masks like cat masks, dog masks, and Roy thought he saw a glimpse of a mask of a yellow animal with pointy ears - black at the tips - and red circles on its chubby cheeks. A small percentage chose beautiful masks that seemed to sit on their faces on the sole purpose to look pretty instead of concealing (what good would a mask that covered only the area of one eye do?). The rest went full-blown mysterious and wore masks that fully concealed their faces, mostly Xingese-styled.
Roy himself, along with all of his men and Hughes, had chosen to don suits and cheap masks covering the upper half of their faces. Somehow, Roy had ended up becoming their personal stylist, but perhaps it was also the reason why they looked better than most men in the room. He smirked. And among them, he knew he and Hughes were the real charmer. Despite Hughes being adamant of his "Strictly Gracia Only" policy, people came to him. Mostly because they didn't make the extra effort to conceal their identity, and many people knew they were young but high-ranked and might get a promotion soon. For power-hungry ladies, they were like sweet honey for bees.
Roy sighed wistfully. Despite having danced with several ladies and flirted with many more, he hadn't found the one that truly made him stand stunned. The real diamond among the stones. The blazing star in the midst of the twinkling ones.
And then, as if written by a bad fanfiction writer, he saw her.
She walked with the confidence and grace of a lioness. Her slim, but clearly well-built body was wraped in a dress of night sky, the fabric hugging her close sensually and draped down the her ankles, but a slit from her left thigh provided a glimpse of long, strong legs. A pair of high heels covered her feet, but allowed a little peek at her toes. Her hands were clenched the way soldiers clenched them when they stood at attention. Her long blonde hair fell down to her back, not one strand out of place. Out of all the ladies in the room, she seemed like the most graceful, daring, beautiful, sexy, and dangerous at the same time. (With the exception of a few, but Roy sure as hell wouldn't make a move on the likes of Olivier Mira Armstrong. He didn't have a death wish.)
But it was the eyes that drew Roy in.
Framed by a blue mask glittered with tiny, gleaming blue stones were the most intense amber brown Roy had ever seen. They seemed somewhat cold in the first glance, but looking right into the depths Roy saw warmth and kindness in them. They took in the view of the room with cold calculation, alert. And then amber brown met obsidian black, and they both stopped.
A few heart beats passed, and the lady in the midnight dress moved to Roy.
At the same time, he, too, moved closer to her.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Roy whispered, This is the one.
4.47 PM
"I'm sorry, Sir," Riza began carefully, "but would you care to repeat that?"
Kimblee gave an impatient smile. "My dear Lieutenant, I want you to work with these paperwork here. They're due today, and I don't think I can do it on my own."
"I apologize for speaking back, Sir, but I don't think finishing all of this before six is possible," she gestured at the towering papers.
"Then you simply need to stay longer, isn't that right?" Kimblee's brow was raised. "You've done it before. Besides, that friend of yours can help."
Riza gritted her teeth. True, Rebecca had been coming to her and helping with the monstrous amount of paperwork Kimblee gave her from time to time. "Sir, all personnel is to leave at six," she tried again. "The ball is - "
"I know when the ball is," Kimblee's voice adopted that dangerous tone. "Now, Lieutenant, you have much work to do. Or would you rather receive some punishment?"
Riza opened her mouth, wanting to protest, but she knew it was no use. Kimblee wouldn't have any of it, and she'd rather not come to the ball battered and bruised. Angrily, she nodded. "Understood, Sir," she said through gritted teeth, snatching the topmost paper on the pile.
Kimblee's smile was sickeningly victorious. Riza resisted the urge to draw her gun from ita holster. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to prevent her from going.
Her hand scrawled through the paper angrily. She had tried to report Kimblee for abuse of power and violence before, but for some reason or another the bastard had always been able to avoid punishment. As time went on, Riza realized she could only sit back and receive the treatment Kimblee was giving her, as all effort to be transferred had been met with failure as well.
But this ball... it was her chance. She might be able to go to a high-ranking officer and get transferred somehow. She could escape Kimblee. But of course the man wouldn't let that happen
She could ask her grandfather to help, but Kimblee might say that the general was biased, being her family and all, and everything could go to waste.
Riza wondered if she could escape this, if at all.
7.03 PM
She stared at the papers with scathing look, a growl escaping her lips, hands trembling with exertion. And yet, still she dutifully filled them all.
"Just a little bit more," she whispered to herself. It was almost like a mantra.
"There are still so many," across of her, Rebecca muttered. She had come a few moments after Kimblee left with a venomously sweet smile in his face, while Riza was emptying her gun's barrel on the dart board accross the room. Apparently Rebecca had a feeling that Kimblee would pull such stunt, and they had been working nonstop since then.
"We'll be able to do this," Riza said again, but it was more like a wishful thinking in her ears.
"Of course we will," Rebecca scratched a sentence she had just written almost vengefully. "There are many hunks up for grab, and I sure as hell won't let you miss this opportunity!"
For a moment, Riza wondered if Rebecca was aiming to find a good boyfriend or to collect good-looking men for her to look at.
8.27 PM
The last sheet was placed on the pile of finished paperwork, and the two young soldiers exchanged a look of elation and happiness.
"It's done," Rebecca said happily. "It's all done!"
"We have roughly thirty minutes to get ready and get to the ballroom," Riza exclaimed as she glanced at the clock. "We need to be fast."
"Do you have your dress ready?"
A pause. "I didn't have time to buy one. I'll wear my dress uniform."
"What?! No, I'll lend you a dress!"
"Our sizes are different. You know I won't fit to your clothes."
"That shouldn't stop us from trying!"
Riza couldn't help but smile at that. "Thanks a lot, Becca," she said as she opened the door. "But I'll be fine in my dress uniform - "
"Ah, Riza, we all know that won't do."
Both Riza and Rebecca froze before straightening up and saluted in surprise. "General Grumman," Riza acknowledged, "Since when have you been here?"
"About an hour ago," Grumman geinned, easing the two casually. "I figured Kimblee's going to pull this kind of stunt. I never really liked the man." His gaze landed on Riza. "You really don't have a dress?"
Riza shook her head. "I hadn't had he chance to buy one."
"Well, lucky for the two of you, I've got everything covered. Now let's head to the baths, it will be easier to prepare there."
"I'm sorry, Sir," Rebecca interjected, "but if you would be so kind to elaborate?"
"Simply put, I've got dresses, shoes, masks, and make-up kit ready for you both in the baths," Grumman grinned again.
"Sir, you shouldn't have - " Riza began, but Geumman held hia hand up.
"Right now, I'm not a general, but a grandfather wanting his granddaughter to have the best night of her life," he said. "So shush, and go."
"But Sir, is it really alright for me to..." Rebecca stopped, unsure of what to say.
"Of course it's alright! I'm feeling generous tonight!" Grumman laughed. "Now enough with the chit-chat. We've wasted enough time as it is!"
9.36 PM
They stood in front of each other, amber brown and obsidian black gazing, silent. Deep down, they knew they both wanted to rip the masks away, but they resisted the urge. After all, there was a certain beauty in the veil of mystery provided by the masks.
In the background, Roy heard Hughes remarking, "Oh, look at that! Seems that our Roy-boy finally found one he truly fancies!"
And then, Havoc's lament, "Why always him? Why not me?"
Roy decided to ignore them and offered a gloved hand to the lady. "Would you like to dance?"
She gave a small smile, extending her own hand. "I'd love to."
As they swept through the crowd to the dance floor, all eyes stared. A young colonel who was charming and talented, and a young newcomer who had stolen the eyes of many other personnels upon stepping inside the ballroom, walking hand to hand together. They reeked of power, they looked like they were made for each other.
While Roy put his hand on the midnight lady's waist and prepared himself for the simple yet elegant waltz that was to come, he found himself wishing thay they were made for one another.
8.53 PM
"Riza?"
"Hmmm?"
Rebecca's voice was laced by awed curiosity. "Why does your grandfather know our sizes?"
"I've learned that if Grandfather is involved, it's better nor to ask questions."
Rebecca could only nod at that, still staring at the dresses in the two women's hands in the same awed curiosity. Grumman had prepared a red halter dress for her, which to her surprise fit her perfectly. This has drawn on her suspicion for a moment. She could let Grumman knowing Riza's size slide, since they were related after all. But him knowing her size...
Oh well. Who was her to refuse a beautiful dress? (Besides, if it can help her with her quest for a good male, it was a help she would gladly receive.)
She glanced at the dress in Riza's hand. The fabric, the style, the overall look it brought to the blonde. Maybe Grumman should have been a stylist instead. What a waste of talent.
Once they had their dresses on properly, a knock resounded throughout the baths. "Are you ladies done yet?" Grumman asked from outside.
"We haven't done the make-up yet, Sir," Riza answered, "but the dresses are perfect."
"Ah, good," the general wasted no more time talking and opened the door, walking in calmly. "Then sit down, Riza, dear. I'll be doing your face."
"Sir, I'm perfectly capable of doing that on my own."
"Says the girl who cried after mistaking mascara for eye liner." (Rebecca had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop herself from giggling out loud at this.)
A slight hint of pink creeped to Riza's cheeks, but her tone was more of exasperation than embarrassment. "Grandfather, I was eight."
"Oh, shush and let me do this, Riza." Grumman's voice softened. "Let me be a grandfather for you just once."
And Riza finally agreed.
It was a strange sight, Rebecca noted as she applied make up on hee oqn face, to see the normally stoic Riza sitting so relaxedly in front of Grumman. It was even stranger to see Grumman doing his job like a professoonal make up artist. His hands danced with all the brushes, cases, and pencils like a painter's would on canvas. It was obvious that he knew what he was doing.
"Now, dear," Grumman said as his hand brushed a colow over Riza's eyelid, "the Führer plans to have everyone remove their masks in the midnight. I suppose it was to be a surprise, to see who people have been dancing with and all that. But I don't think it will be good for you to remove your mask in such place."
"Kimblee might see," Riza caught on immediately.
Grumman nodded. "And while I doubt he'll be able to do anything, I suppose it's better to play it safe. So I suggest you get out of there before twelve. I'll have some people outaide to drive you home."
"Understood," Riza responded.
Rebecca listened without saying anything. She agreed with Grumman's idea, though. While in the ball itself Kimnlee wouldn't do anything, that wasn't to say he wouldn't do anything in the office. Rebecca had seen firsthand how much damage Roza had to deal with. The worst part was that Kimblee was such a charming person, really, and smart as well. Grumman had tried to pull some strings to have Riza transferred - this she knew - but still Kimblee was able to keep her around.
Sometimes Rebecca wondered why Riza didn't just shoot the major and had it done with, but then she remembered Kimblee was an alchemist, one who was skilled in having things go ka-boom. Not the best choice to go when you're about to pick a fight.
"There, all done," Grumman pulled away from Riza, and Rebecca was speechless for a moment. Grumman had managed to bring out Riza's beauty with the lightest of colors, making her look stunning without looking artificial. Plump pink lips, light blush coloring her cheeks, and a brush of eyeshadows to bring out the color of her eyes. Suddenly, Rebecca felt small compared to her.
Apparently, Riza was also stunned since she stared at her reflection in the mirror with a look of wonder in her eyes. Then, she smiled gratefully and said, "Thank you, Sir."
"Anytime, Riza," Grumman smiled back. "Now, if you ladies could wait a bit. Let me change into my suit and we all can go."
9.38 PM
As soon as the music started, Roy pleasantly found that the lady in midnight dress was a graceful dancer as well. She moved with calculated steps and high amount of confidence, ad Roy found himself liking this so far. They both relaxed their guards as they melted imto the routine of stepping and twirling and spinning, allowing smiles to creep to their faces, but not once did they break their eye contact.
If Hughes brought his camera he'd definitely take photos of this, Roy thought in slight amusement.
A click, and a flash.
Well, apparently he did.
The dance ended too soon to Roy's liking.
As the two gave that dreaded final bow, eyes still lingering on each other's, Roy found himself at loss of what to do. Normally he'd leave right away to find another girl, maybe bring the girl he had just danced with for a drink before leaving, without caring how people might see him. This was a ball, after all, and everyone was aiming to dance with as many people as possible, hook up if they could, screw fraternization rules, they didn't know who they were dancing with anyway. But he didn't want to leave this girl. Not this one, because he wasconvinced she was the one.
It seemed that the lady was also at loss, because she simply shuffled awkwardly on her heels. Then, she asked, "Would you like something to eat?"
He smiled, both in relief and the lady's apparent reluctance to part ways with him. "It would be a pleasure." He offered his arm to her. She paused, long enough to make his heart thump loudly in anxiety because what if I screwed up? but then she took it with a smile. He breathed easily once more.
They chatted over the food they ate. Past missions, annoying friends. Some of their skill sets. Roy found that the lady was skilled with virtually all types of firearms, and she found that he was a skilled State Alchemist. He didn't tell her the field he specialized in.
"And rank?" she asked in curiosity as she stabbed a small piece of meat on her plate.
He smirked, but inside he wished she wasn't just another power-hungry vixen. "Colonel," he answered, a hint of pride carefully hidden in his voice.
"So young, and already a colonel?"
"Why, Lady, how do you know I'm young? I might just be baby-faced flr all you know."
"Please, Sir, I can tell." Her smile was amused, but he could sense the weariness behind it.
"You didn't tell me your rank, Miss. May I know?"
"First Lieutenant," she answered a swift move she took a glass of champagne and sipped, calm and collected.
"You seem like someone who is hardworking," Roy commented. The way she carried herself, it was clear she was very disciplined.
"I could be someone who is very lazy for all you know, Sir," she directed her twinkling eyes to him, mirroring what he said to her.
"Give me some credit, Lieutenant. I can tell." At this, she smiled ever so slightly, and Roy felt a weird rush of victory.
The orchestra the Führer hired started a new song, faster and more cheerful this time. The lady in midnight dress smiled and offered a hand. "Another dance perhaps, Sir?"
He gave a smirk. "For you, Lieutenant, always."
They followed the same pattern as before, stepping, spinning, twirling, and not once did they break eye comtact. It was as if an invisibke chain had connected onyx and amber together, and they were unable to shake the links of the chain off. A larfe grin found itself in Roy's face, and soon the girl in midnight dress mirrored the expression.
Then, mid-step, her grin faltered and for the first time, the eye contact was broken. Her rhythm slowed, and her eyes were fixed at a point behind his back warily.
"What's wrong?" he asked, carefully spinning so that he, too, could see what was bothering her.
"Ah - it's nothing, Sir."
"Tell me, Miss. I might be able to help."
Wordlessly, she led the dance and directed Roy so he could see what she saw, "Twelve o'clock, a man in all-white suit, wearing white mask. I'm fairly certain he is my commanding officer, Sir."
It wasn't hard for Roy to locate the man, but to his disdain he was staring at his midnight lady with a bit too much interest to his liking. He didn't know why it would make her uncomfortable, however. "If you want, you could go say hello," he offered, but God, please don't say yes, please stay with me.
Her smile was wry and somewhat pained. "I'd rather not," she said. "He isn't exactly the best superior officer in the world."
Roy's mind was on alert immediately. "Did he...?" he couldn't finish the sentence for some reason.
"He did nothing indecent, if that's what you're thinking, Sir," the lady said calmly."If it's possible, Sir, may I ask your help to lose him in the crowd and perhaps go outside? I'm not wholly comfortable with his presence."
"Of course," Roy nodded, and expertly led the dance away from the man in white suit's watching eyes. When he was sure they had lost him, they quickly walked out of the crowd, out of the room, out to the gardens lit with the light of the full moon.
He breathed in. There was a lingering sweet smell of flowers in the air. It was quite relaxing. He turned to the lady in midnight dress and couldn't help but stood stunned once again. Here, bathed in the silvery light of the moon, her beauty seemed almost otherworldly. He wondered if he was really that intoxicated.
He chose to blame the champagne, but he honestly wasn't sure.
The music blaring from the hall could be heard clearly still. Taking a deep breath, he began, "You know... we can still finish that dance."
She smiled. "I suppose we can."
The reached out to each other's hands as if it was the most natural thing to do. Only then did Roy realize how perfectly their hands fit, how synchronized they moved. Once again the dance ended too soon, but this time they didn't give that final bow. Instead they stood there, surrounded by bushes jn yhe garden and showered by moonlight, holding hands with no means of letting go, eyes still connected.
The clock struck ten, and the sound broke them out of their stupor.
"Do you want to go back inside?" the lady suddenly asked. "If you do, it's alright for you to go."
He gave that smirk again. "I'd rather stay with you here." No annoying people will disturb us.
"Are you sure, Sir?"
"Positive." His smirk gave way to a gentle smile. "Shall we take a walk?" He offered a hand.
She reached out instantly. "Of course, Sir."
As they strolled through the gardens, they chatted again. Their lives, their dreams. Their ambitions.
"I'll climb through the ranks and become the next Führer, one day," Roy declared, a look of determination mixed with something akin to childish glee in his eyes. Then, playfully, he added, "And when that day comes all female officers will be required to wear tiny miniskirts!"
She gave an amused smile, but decided not to comment on the last statement. "You might want to refrain fom stating something like that so blatantly, Sir. Someone might overhear."
He grinned. "I suppose thay's true. I'l make note of that," he said. "And you, Miss? Any specific ambitions you want to share?"
"Nothing of importance," she answered. "However, I'll admit that I'll be very grateful to be transferred away from my commanding officer.
Roy was instantly on alert again. "May I ask why?"
The lady simply said, "He isn't exactlty the best commanding officer in the world." Same words, same pained tone. Now there was desperatoon, too, coloring it.
"How bad exactly?"
"Paperwork... sometimes, he'd hit."
And suddenly anger filled Roy like never before. How dare he raise a hand on a woman? How dare he touch this midnight lady? Roy's fingers poised to a snap, forgetting that he didn't have his ignition gloves with him, and the urge to run back to the hall to incinerate the man in white suit built inside of him.
"Sir." The voice shook him out of his raged stupor. "I hope you aren't thinking of doing anything stupid."
"I might have," he admitted, tension leaving his hands. "But that's not important." Deciding that maybe leaving this matter alone for now was the bestcourse of action, he smiled, suppressing the last lf his anger away. "So... do you like animals?"
9.17 PM
The car pulled to a stop. Riza gazed outside, taking a deep breath. This is it. The ball. Her chance to get away from Kimblee.
And if she couldn't snag a high-ranking officer, she supposed a night of good old fun was alright anyway.
"I'll be going first," Rebecca announced, looking stunning in her red dress as she put on a simple red and black mask over her face. A look of excitement passed through her eyes. "Let's see if I can get a good male here. Wish me luck, Riza!"
"Good luck, Rebecca," Riza smiled. She suppressed a small laugh as Rebecca practically marched into the ballroom.
Grumman handed Riza a blue mask. "Well, dear," he said, "I surely hope you can get a 'good male' as well. I recommend someone from Briggs - they will definitely be able to scare Kimblee away, that's for sure. Try Captain Buccaneer, or Major Miles. Good soldiers, they are. Or if you're into it you can go straight to the Ice Queen of Briggs herself, Brigadier General Olivier Mira Armstrong. Very strict and scary, but she is one of the most capable officers out there."
"Sir - "
"Or if you prefer to stay in Central there is that young Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, he's bound to have a promotion soon - oh wait, he will be hard. I heard he is very obsesed with his wife. Oh! You should go to his close friend, Col - "
"Grandfather!" Riza cut Grumman's ramble. "I will be fine. Don't worry too much."
Grumman smiled. "Of course you before you go, here's one last gift from me."
Riza wanted to tell Grumman that no, I'm not taking another present, you've done so much already, but Grumman had already taken said gift and placed it inher hands. Riza found herself speechless.
"A... gun?"
11.54 PM
Time passed much too fast to Roy's liking. Before he knew it, the clock had chimed eleven times, and soon it would strike twelve.
It seemed that the midnight lady realized this as well. "Maybe you should head back," she said. "I heard the Führer plans to have everyone remove their masks at midnight."
"Ah, true, there was a rumor like that," Roy nodded, remembering that Hughes had spoken about it earlier. He offered his hand to the midnight girl. "Shall we then?"
The girl hesitated. "Actually, Sir... I'm not staying any longer."
He faltered. "... sorry?"
"I'm leaving, Sir," the girl said. "It is an agreement I made with a family member of mine. I'm leaving before they unmask everyone."
Panic filled him faster than lightning. "But... will you stay? Just for a bit more?"
"I'm sorry, Sir," her eyes intensified with guilt and longing, amber brown seemingly shining in the dark. Knowing he couldn't stop her, Roy took her hand into his, grasping the bare fingers with his gloved ones. Then, reluctantly, he pulled her closer.
She didn't struggle against him. Rather, she took the initiative and pulled him into a gentle hug. And so they stood there wordlessly, she burying her face in his suit and taking in his scent, him burying his face in her hair and breathing her fragrance, both trying oh so hard to imprint the other to their minds. Both hoping, wishing, that time would slow down or stop altogether, to grant them the ability to stay within close vicinity, for eternity if needed be.
He slowly pried his head away from her crown and gently lifted her chin, and their eyes met once again, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He leaned in, eyes slowly slipping close, and he registered that hers, too, were closing oh so slowly.
The chime of the clocktower broke whatever spell binding them captive. She pulled away as soon as the ring cut through the air, and he found himself longing for her lips.
"I have to go," she said as she slipped away from his hold.
"Please wait," he said even as the pure futility of it crashed to him like a wave. His hand kept a contact with hers, brushing ever so slightly until she was gone from his grasps. He gripped at the empty air. He took a step forward at her retreating figure, sighing, wondering if he'd ever see her again.
Then, suddenly, she moved in a swift motion. With an expert's ease, she turned on her heels. Her hands quickly reached to the slit of her dress, one hand pulling the slit open in a speed that was almost too incredible to look at, giving Roy a view of long legs and sexy thighs that nearly sent him to a serious nosebleed attack that he managed to hold just barely. But whatever heavenly impression that had hovered above his head was gone when the midnight lady's other hand reached and pulled something that was strapped to her thigh, hidden all this time by the dark fabric of the dress.
And she pointed it at him, aiming with incredinle focus, and pulled the trigger.
9.19 PM
"O ho ho! Surprised you, didn't I?"
Riza blinked st the gun sittingin her grasp. "But Sir..."
"Excellent thing, isn't it?" Grumman grinned as Riza's eyes roamed the gun. "Beautiful on display. Costed me a real fortune, this one. It can fire, too, but it doesn't have any real power. It'll just be like getting hit by a paperball for your victim. Fire power might shatter the glass, after all."
Riza was still staring at the gun, eyes wide and mouth open in disbelief. To even think that such thing existed...
The gun was made of crystal clear glass. The cool material was smooth and slick, glinting in the reflecting light from the window. The transparent glass allowed a peek at the metal works inside, bronze gears and silvery spring twining. Riza gulped, fingers brushing lightly at the delicate gun.
"Now, I know I said I'll give you a gift, but it's not the gun that I'm giving to you." Grumman's voice pulled Riza out of her awed stupor. "It's the glass bullet inside."
"The bullet...?" Riza muttered,
"Why, a small gift for the lucky man if you meet him to give him a driving force to find you later on, of course," Grumman shrugged. "And you keep that gun until you're reunited with the bullet. If the lucky man found me as the one with the glass gun, he'll probably die from heart attack."
Riza couldn't help but smile at that.
"Now, dear," Grumman gave that unnerving grin he always wore when he felt excited. "Let's get you that 'good male', shall we?"
12.00 AM
Roy didn't hear the dreaded BANG.
Instead, there was a metallic clink that tore the air, sounding almost like a tiny bell. And instead of the ripping, red-hot pain, something hit his chest with the killing intent of a downed paper plane before freefalling to his feet, where it created another clink as it hit the concrete. He blinked in suprise and crouched down to take the object, and he soon was staring at a small bullet made out of crystal, its side decorated with swirling patterns of flowers. He gazed at the work of art, awed by how it caught the light, before he turned once again to see his midnight lady. She was walking steadfastly away.
Then, slowly, she turned to him and raised her right hand, letting him see the gun in her possession - made out pf glass as well, he realized in that same awe - and she smiled at him, amber brown eyes burning. There was no word, but Roy could grasp the message clearly.
Find me.
He found himself whispering, "I will."
12.10 AM
"Heeey Roy! Where have you been? And where's that girl did she ditch you or something?"
Hughes didn't receice the scowl he had expected. Instead, Roy was gazing down at something in his palm, eyes looking far away at nothing. Curious, Hughes peeked to look at the object, and found himself whistling.
"Whoa, Roy, where'd you find that?"
The sentence seemed to snap Roy out of if. He blinked and stared at Hughes, finally realizing that he was the only one in the room still wearing a mask. Quickly, he took it off and began sizing Hughes up, like a predator sizing its prey. It was honestly quite unnerving, so Hughes put up his hands up in protest. "Hey, Roy! Don't stare at me like you're going to eat me. I haven't even teased you yet!"
Then, suddenly, Roy gripped him by his arms, eyes burning. "Maes Hughes."
Hughes gulped. "Yes...?"
The fire burned brighter. "I need your help."
Two days after the ball
"Alright, Roy, here it is. I've got your candidates here."
Roy snapped up from the bullet in his hands. "Thanks, Hughes." He put the bullet down on his table and pulled the piles pf folders closer. "Is this all?"
"Yeah, the only ones that matched the description, really," Hughes said seriously. "Blonde hair, brown eyes, holds the position of first lieutenant, good with guns. You're so called Midnight Lady is somewhere in here, I'm sure."
"Alright," Roy took the topmost folder and opened it, looking at the photo and the personal data, hoping that his midnight lady could be found somewhere.
"Seriously, though, Sir. How long is it going to take for you to find the lady?" Havoc whined. "Your paperwork is a nightmare!"
"Sorry, Havoc, but bear with it for now," Roy said without tearing his eyes from the heap of paper totally unrelated to his work in his hands. "I'll help you get a gielfriend when this is done, I promise,"
"You'd better," Havoc grumbled as he signed a paper.
Not this one, Roy's thought as he set a folder aside. Not this one either. Their eyes aren't nearly intense enough. Not even close.
Where are you?
"It's so annoying, dammit!"
Riza watched calmly, chewing her lunch, as Rebecca wailed in front of her.
"It was a big ball! All military personnels were there! And I still couldn't find one, one good male!"
Keeping a stoic outlook, Riza patted Rebecca's arm sympathetically. "I'm sure you'll find one sooner or later."
"It better be sooner than later," Rebecca growled, biting into her sandwich with vengeance. "And you, Riza? You did find someone, right?"
Riza's face twitched into the barest hint of a smile.
"Oooh, so you did," Rebecca grinned cheekily.
"There is no guarantee that we will meet again," Riza dismissed soberly, the hint of a smile disappearing. But her mind wandered to the small glass bullet. Was it too much to hope that it was enough of a link to allow them to meet again? Their chat throughout the night had dropped hints of their identity, but Riza wasn't entirely sure it was enough. She just hoped that the man was looking for her.
She would look for him, too. But the amount of work Kimblee had given her was getting ridiculous.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll meet again," Rebecca said confidently, still wearing that cheeky grin in her face. "What do they say again? Love always prevails?"
This time Riza did smile, helplessly, as she shook her head. Rebecca. Always the romantic.
Once they were done with their lunch, they went back to their respectivr office, and Riza was greeted with the sight of Kimblee in an extremely bad mood. Her brows creased. She stepped inside carefully, calling, "Sir?"
His eyes found hers. "You were there, weren't you?"
Dread washed her like ice water in midwinter. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't know what you're talking about."
He scowled. "I saw you, Lieutenant. Midnight blue dress with glitter and blue mask, was it not? I had my suspicions before." His eyes narrowed. "You had help with the papers, didn't you? I checked. The handwriting wasn't all yours."
Riza didn't say anything. She glared at her superior, before slowly asking, "If you don't mind, Sir, why have you only acted on your suspicion now?"
"Because it's only confirmed now," Kimblee's answer was clipped. "I heard your conversation with that friend of yours. Honestly, Lieutenant, I kept you from the ball for a reason."
"And what reason might that be?"
She only received an unnerving smile in return. "Finish your paperwork, Lieutenant. I have more waiting for you."
And that was it. Knowing she would most likely regret it later, she closed her eyes and answered, "No, Sir."
Kimblee's brow shot up.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but you ought to do your own paperwork instead of shoving it to your subordinate. I cannot handle your paperwork on top of mine forever, Sir."
"Oh?" the tone held that dangerous edge again. Riza stood her ground.
After a moment of rigid silence, Kimblee sighed. "This is why I didn't want you to go. You've grown lazy, Lieutenant." He walked to Riza. "Are you sure you wish to refuse the order?"
Riza hesitated. She knew masked threat when she heard one, but she answered stubbornly still, "Yes, Sir."
And suddenly Kimblee's hand grabbed her shoulder and pushed her down, forcing her to bend, and her stomach met Kimblee's waiting knee. She gasped in pain as her knees buckled and she fell to the floor, coughing.
"Let me ask you again, Lieutenant," Kimblee undid her tied hair and yanked. "Are you sure you wish to refuse the order?"
Riza's stubborn eyes met Kimblee's cold ones. "Yes, Sir."
Another kick to her stomach, followed by another, and another, and another. Riza curled painfully on the floor, gasping and panting. Then she let out a surprised yelp when, once again, Kimblee pulled her up by her hair.
"You need to be disciplined," he said. "A soldier is supposed to obey the superior."
"Not like this," Riza gritted her teeth to keep herself from screaming in pain.
Kimblee gave an ugly scowl. Then, still grabbing her by the hair, he dragged her to the corner of the room. She gasped in pain, barely realizing the sounds of opening door, then suddenly she was thrown into a small space.
"Stay quiet inside there and I might consider letting you out," Kimblee hissed and slammed the door close, and locked it with more force than Riza thought necessary. Then she realized that this was the small janitor's closet in the office, judging from the broom, mop, and bucket around her. Angrily, she started banging at the door.
"Let me out, Sir, you can't keep me here forever!" she demanded.
"If you don't shut up right now, I'll let you rot in there until next week!" was Kimblee's response. Riza gave a final punch to the door, but she stopped banging, knowing that Kimblee wasn't going to let her out anytime soon.
What am I, a five year old? she grumbled to herself, sitting down on the floor. Nevertheless, it gave a good opportunity to examine herself. The closet might be dark, but the light seeping through the gaps on the door was enough for her to get by. She poked herself in the stomach, hissing in pain. She didn't need to open her clothes to know thst it was bruising badly.
Then she started. The glas gun! She'd been carrying that instead of the usual gun lately, in hope of finding the man with the bullet. She quickly took it from the holster, scared that she had damaged it somehow. She gave a sigh of relief when she realized that there was no visible sign of damage on it. She smiled softly and gripped it.
The voices of people speaking outsidedrew her attention away from the gun. Was there an inspection of some sort?
"Good afternood, Colonel Mustang. What brings you here?" she heard Kimblee ask.
The voice that answered made her freeze.
"Oh, nothing really, Major Kimblee. Just a friendly visit."
The voice was his.
"I got her!"
Roy's cry of victory drew the attention of his subordinates immediately.
"Really?" Havoc's voice was laced with curiosity.
"I'm positive this is the one," Roy gripped the folder tightly, eyes shining in concentration. "The eyes are the same."
"Let me see that for a bit," Hughes took the folder and started flipping before reading, "First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Works under Major Solf J. Kimblee. Has filed several complaints of violence against her commanding officer but none had stuck. She has also requested to be transferred away a few times but was denied. Best sniper that has ever graduated from the military academy, it seems. Handy with other firearms, too."
"She's the one," Roy repeated, hand gripping the glass bullet from her like a lifeline.
"Wait, Roy," Hughes flipped the papers again. "If she works under Kimblee, this won't be a walk in the park. He's a tricky snake."
"She told me her commanding officer hits her, Hughes. I'm not going to wait longer."
Hughes looked at him before he exhaled and nodded. "Alright then. I can make a sudden unnanounced inspection right now. Care to join?"
"Gladly," Roy turned to his subordinates. "You keep working here. Don't slack off!"
"Sorry, Sir, but we'll stop slacking off when you do," Breda grinned, and Roy returned it.
"You know what I mean, men," he chuckled lightly before turning to go away.
The walk to Kimblee's office was both too short and too long. All the time, Roy rolled the glass bullet around in his hands. He prayed to whatever higher being was present out tnere that this really was his Midnight lady. When they reached the door at last, he put the bullet in his pocket and knocked anxiously, Hughes patting his shoulder and muttering to him to calm down.
Then he pushed the door open.
Kimblee was there on his desk, which was surprisingly scarce of paper as opposed to the amount of paper on the smaller desk near his. The room showed no sign of life other than the major himself.
"Sir," Kimblee stood up and saluted, a gesture that Roy and Hughes copied instantly. Then hs smiled and and asked in a friendlier tone, "Good afternoon, Colonel Mustang. What brings you here?"
He recognized the fake smile instantly and decided to play along. "Oh, nothing really. Just a friendly visit."
"Actually, I'm the one who has a business here!" Hughes called from his side. "I'm conducting an inspection here, you see, and this guy decides to tag along. And by the way, Major, I thought you have an assitant? I need to ask her some questions. Where is she?"
"She hasn't returned from the mess hall, I'm afraid," Kimblee shrugged. "May I ask why you need to see her, however?"
"Well, let's see," Hughes pulled her files from his inner pocket. "She's filed several complaints against you. We'd like to know why, and why everything is always dropped before real investigation can occur."
"I didn't know you investigate affairs like these so thoroughly, Lieutenant Colonel, Sir."
"We don't. I was just curious."
"Bored Hughes does many weird things, and this productive thing is better than the alternative. So tell us, Major where is she?" Roy demanded.
"I've told you, I don't know. You'll have to come again later."
Roy's eyes met Hughes', and they shred a look. This was going nowhere. They couldn't force Kimblee to let them stay, too - it would be suspicious. Their best bet was to leave now.
"Well, then, Major," Hughes sighed. "Please knform Lieutenant Hawkeye that we wish to speak with her. The thing she accuses you of is serious."
"Of course, Sir."
"Well, then. Good day, Major - "
Thump.
Roy's body went rigid. "What was that?"
Kimblee's brows were knitted together. "Probably a rat."
Thump. Crash.
"If it really is a rat, it must be one hell of a large rat," Hughes commented.
"I'll make sure to have it taken care of later," Kimblee nodded solemnly.
Hughes' eyes were trained suspiciously on the major, but he said nothing. He turned to walk away, Roy behind him, lingering in the room longer. Something was off, he was sure of that. He wanted to find out what.
Then, he heard it.
Thump, tap, tap. Thump, tap, tap. It was constant, rhythmic, calm. On and on it wend, and Hughes turned back into the room, eyes clearly showing his suspicion. "No offense, Major, but that doesn't sound like a rat," he commented as if he was stating a common knowledge.
"It comes from that closet over there," Roy pointed at said closet, which was still producing that thump, tap, tap. It reminded him of the rhythm of waltz music.
Waltz. It was their first dance. Was it perhaps...?
"Major, do you mind if we check the closet?" Roy asked, and without waiting for an answer he strode forward.
He was blocked by Kimblee almost immediately. "Please, Sir. It is quite the mess."
"Perhaps we can help you clean up, Major," Roy said, voice dangerously low.
"I assure you, Sir, the gesture is appreciated but it is wholly unneccesary," Kimblee answered, eyes narrowing.
Hughes stepped forward and gripped Kimblee's shoulder, warning in his eyes. "We insist, Major."
Kimblee lingered for a moment before stepping away, a look of anger mixed with uneasiness swimming in his dark orbs. Ignoring him, Roy stepped forward immedistely, standing in front of the closet and listening intently to the rhythmic knocks that seemed to have synched itself with his own thumping heart.
He reached to the handle - his hands were trembling - and pulled. It was locked.
"Keys," he demanded hotly, and Kimblee complied with a scowl. He snatched the object almost greedily and hurriedly put it in. He turned it, hearing that satisfying click, and pulled the door open with a faint creak.
The rhythm stopped immediately.
Sitting down on the floor was a young blonde woman, looking up at him with amber brown eyea, so intense they could burn. Her hair was messy - pulled and tussled, tangling to all direction. Her uniform, too, was a mess, and to Roy's disdain he caught a sight of something resembling a footprint in there. And her hands held a gun.
A gun made from crystal clear glass.
Joy bloomed in Roy's chest immediately, but he needed to assure her. He knelt by her, one hand resting on her hands and the other took the glass bullet that had been sitting in his pocket for a while. He gripped it in his fist and brought his hand in front of her, then he let his palm open like a blooming lotus flower, letting her see the tiny glass bullet inside.
The stars twinkled in her eyes, intensity doubling. A smile tugged at her tired face, and she sighed, "You found me."
It was only then that he realized that he had truly found the Midnight Lady, that his search had bore its fruit. A smile sneaked its way to his face. "I found you."
To Riza's disdain and amusement, Grumman's reaction to her story was to groan loudly.
"My dear granddaughter, I know it turned out alright in the end," he had said, "but why, why, did you not kiss him at the ball?"
Riza had wisely chosen to stay quiet at that. Instead, she brought up the topic of the glass gun, giving it to Grumman. The old general had held it in his hands while contemplating about so ething before handing it back to her.
"On a second thought, hold on to it, Riza," he said. "Consider it an early wedding gift from me."
Well, that had made her blush, to be completely honest. But his last offhanded comment before she went back to her apartment was what made her feel eternally embarrassed:
"I expect a hot kiss at the wedding to make up for the ball!"
She was grateful to know that she could finally be transferred. It took him some time, but Hughes was finally finished to manage all the papers, and she was finally ready to be placed under Colonel Roy Mustang's care. And here, today, would be her first day to work under him.
She steppe inside the room and was immediately greeted by the sight of him calmly filling a form. She let the door close behind her back, stood in front of the desk, and saluted.
"Sir," she called, and his attention was brought to her immediately. "First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, reporting for duty."
"At ease," he said with a smile. "Everything's been working well, I presume?"
"Yes, Sir," Riza nodded.
"Now then, Lieutenant," Roy stood up and looked beyond the window behind him. "I'm placing you here as my assistant. I want you to watch my back. Do you know what that means?" His head turned to look at her. "To entrust my back to you means you can shoot me from behind at any time. I'm granting you the right to shoot me if I ever lose my sight of what is right."
She straightened immediately, feeling the weight of his request at the very core of her being. It touched her, the amount of trust he was showing her. Giving her. Her, of all people. She intended to keep it.
"Will you follow me, Lieutenant?"
Her amber gaze found his intense ocean of dep onyx, and she replied with a conviction she never thought she was capable of,
"If you wish, Sir, then even to hell."
And she meant it, more than she had ever had in her life.
A/N: whoa, okay, this is way longer than I had planned it to be. I wanted to be like 5000 words fic or something. This is definitely my longest one shot ever...
It took me days to finish this, and I'm so glad of how it turned out! I'm not good at making romance story, but I think this one isn't so bad.
Please leave some reviews on your way out. Tell me what you think! I'll need all feedback I can get to improve myself, since I wish to write more Royai (and other pairings) stories.