The workroom was lit dimly by a single oil lamp. Riza could not comprehend how her father could teach Mister Mustang anything with the lack of real light. But even peering into the dark room from behind the door frame, she could still make out the expression of frustration and incomprehension on Mister Mustang's face as her father taught him with words Riza couldn't understand, drawing shaky arrays on scrap pieces of paper.

Riza felt her foot falling asleep, and gritted her teeth together as irritating pins and needles shot up her left leg. As she shifted her weight, one of the house's ancient floorboards creaked. Riza winced and ducked behind the wall.

"Riza, I can see you," Berthold Hawkeye announced sharply. She crept back in front of the door. Her father looked annoyed, but she could see that Mister Mustang was biting back a smile. "Go away, you'll get in our way."

"Yes, Father," she said softly. She caught Mister Mustang's eye briefly, before she turned away, and hurried back to her room, her face warming with embarrassment.

She reached her bedroom and shut the door behind her, flopping down on her far too large bed. Countless wannabe-alchemists, hoping to learn under the great Berthold Hawkeye, had come to their doorstep, only to quit or have Riza's father kick them out after a week or less. Mister Mustang had been under her father's wing for nearly six months, and did not seem interested in running away. The ancient manor was far too big for a recluse alchemist and his teenage daughter, so Riza had been initially very pleased to have a third person join them. However, Berthold Hawkeye rarely allowed the two of them to interact, keeping them busy whenever he could. His rules had never stopped the two of them from becoming friends, though.

Mister Mustang had a certain charm to him. Riza didn't have enough experience to know if she had a 'type' when it came to boys, but she thought he would fall into that category, if it existed. He was handsome, clever and amusing, even if he could often be lazy or self-indulgent. There was something about him that Riza could not name, but absolutely admired.

A sharp knock on her bedroom door interrupted her daydream.

"Come in," she called hesitantly.

She dearly hoped her father was not looking to reprimand her for spying. To her surprise, it was Mister Mustang who pushed open the door.

"Hey," he said, closing the door behind him. He pulled the chair from her desk, smiling sheepishly as it made a screeching noise on the floor. "Personally, I didn't think you'd get in our way, Miss Hawkeye. We ended finishing for the day about three minutes after you left. He said he had some kind of new project he needed to start."

Riza leaned back on her hands. "You looked like you were confused about what Father was teaching you."

A dark shadow seemed to pass across Mister Mustang's face, but it was gone nearly as quickly as it had appeared. "Alchemy's always complicated. Master Hawkeye is a brilliant teacher, but there are some things that he just won't teach me. Important things."

"Like what?"

Mister Mustang scratched at his dark hair. "Well, I don't know if you know this, but he's been working on an entire new alchemic concept: Flame Alchemy. But he won't even teach me how to make a single spark! He won't even tell me why I'm not ready to learn it."

Riza shrugged. There wasn't a lot she could contribute to a conversation about alchemy.

Mister Mustang must have sensed that her attention was wandering. He grinned and stood. "But you don't want to hear about that, do you?"

Oh, are alchemists reading minds now?

To Riza's surprise, he walked over and sat right beside her on the bed. "Well, then," he said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"W-we could talk about alchemy if you'd like," she cursed her voice for sounded so shy and uncertain. But he was so damned close, he was on her bed and it made her think all kinds of unfamiliar thoughts. "It's not that I'm not interested. I am, but I don't believe my father thinks I'm suited for alchemy. He claims it's not meant for the , I try not to show my feelings around him."

Mister Mustang frowned. "That's stupid. Anyone can have an affinity for alchemy. I admit I can be—"

He broke up when Riza grabbed his face between her hands, kissing him deeply on the lips. His lips were soft, though his slight stubble scratched at her face. She smiled against him when his tongue entered his mouth. With a gasp she withdrew her mouth, her brown eyes widening, and scrambled against the wall, putting as much distance as she could between the two of them.

"Wow," Mister Mustang said, raising his eyebrows and brushing his fingers against his lips.

Riza trembled. "Mister Mustang—"

"I think you should call me Roy when Master Hawkeye isn't around."

"Mister Mustang, I'm so sorry. I went way too far."

He grinned and shook his head. "Don't be sorry, Riza. You may have noticed that I was an active participant in that kiss."

She laughed and felt her embarrassment fade. "Does that mean you'd like to… continue?"

"Yes, please," Roy said, taking her hand in his and leaning forwards for another kiss.

Riza smiled and accepted his lips, just as another knock came from the other side of the door. Roy's eyes flew open and he scrambled back onto his chair, assuming a casual pose as Riza went to the door, knowing her short hair was disheveled and her heart was pounding from surprise and excitement.

Berthold Hawkeye entered the room before Riza could even turn the doorknob.

"I need you to help with some research," he announced, as Riza briefly closed her eyes in relief. He had not noticed that anything had changed between his daughter and apprentice.

"Yes, sir," Roy got up from the chair.

"No, not you," Riza's father said. "Riza. Come with me."

"What?" Riza gasped. She wasn't sure if she should feel nervous or excited. Her father needed her help? She looked over at Roy, who was smiling almost mockingly. They followed her father out of the room.

"Go make yourself some supper," Berthold Hawkeye said to Roy. "I don't need you for this."

"Of course," Roy said dutifully, although Riza noticed his slight frown.

"Goodnight, Mister Mustang," Riza called politely after him.

"Sweet dreams, Miss Hawkeye," Roy raised his hand and disappeared down the long hallway.

"What do I need to do, Father?" She was hungry, and her mind was still reeling from the kiss. Although she was terribly interested in what her father needed her for, she hoped it wouldn't take too long.

"Don't worry about that yet," he said gruffly. "It'll take a few days, but I need your help with copying some of my notes."

Riza frowned as they entered the workroom. "Do you want me to help write some of them out?"

Her father chuckled, and Riza suddenly felt very cold.

"Something like that."