Following Orders
S J Smith
Disclaimer: Do I look like a Holstein to you? Wait, don't answer that.
Rating: Teen
Summary: They were just following orders.
A.N.: Written for Artemisrae. Because.
She'd done it once, she could do it again - threaten him with a bullet; remind him he'd strayed from his path. He'd made his choice, given his life into her hands. She was his watchdog, both his guardian and his guard, tasked to take him down if necessary, if he'd started down the wrong path and couldn't be drawn back from it.
She'd done it once, spoken to him, tried to reason, but she'd had outside help - Edward Elric; the alchemist murderer, Scar. Even the homunculus itself had spoken, though maybe it had been trying to throw oil on the flames. She couldn't remember now for sure - what stood out in her memories was the slamming of her heart against her ribs, the way her finger quivered on the trigger. She could have pulled, she knew she could have; would have had to, but her hand had been stayed that day. The sword did not fall.
Not that day.
Havoc watched the woman in front of the grave, waited for her to finish her silent communion with the dead. He'd paid his respects already, offered a quiet hope that the Chief, wherever he was, wouldn't frown too much on the fraternization of his two aides. But Riza needed someone to keep her from turning that barrel on herself, and Havoc needed someone to keep him from going too stir crazy in the family business.
It wasn't what either of them had ever wanted, no, but how often does a soldier really get what one deserves?