A/N: Merry Christmas! Here's my present to all of you.
To: kasumin, Leech The Puppy, CielPhantomhive255, to overcome reality, Literacy is the Best Policy, AwesomeCoolPerson, D-chi, WithoutWingsX, ItalianRose5, flightless and stranded, Thoren Quill, isecretlywrite, msaleat, Taethowen, BlaiseEridence, Little Alchemist, Insert Decent Name Here, AwkwardPossum, Tsubame-go, h0neyxx, BlissfulCalamity, Ink Mayfly, AgentJoy, Bluishorbs, Kaze no Ato, McKazekage, lusiw123, Colbalt Sunfire, krikianita, Mystery Cinderella, neeza90, Marta J. de Villefort, areanna123, Saffron Wings, Antigone Rex, Mammai, any and all anime, Fearel, inepta, The Frozen Yogurt Goddess, Audfairy2, MarshMallow14, Maryalice11, Princesseclair13, ero-sama8669, hanjoh1, wordAnnihilator, turtlelover0511, grotkowska, Madoka-chan, cinemascop08, rattdragon, Maybe-I-Should-Write-Something, Onee-chan-05, theatricallyinsane, Shipperlover, Ballgurl97, Lady Krystalyn, , champsissy, .7, Rook's Feather, Contagious-Anime-Obsession, veeholic, TheNextAlice, LostNight0907, Many Voices In My Head, xfilesalways, and all the guests who have faved, reviewed, or followed this story. I love you all.
A Solitary Solstice
When he forced himself to get up this morning, much to his own dislike, he hadn't anticipated an afternoon that involved having to duck for cover into an alleyway as bullets intended for him went whistling past. The box that had been tucked under his arm tumbled into the street. Leaning against the frost-laced bricks, his breath forming puffy clouds in front of his face, Roy rolled his eyes skyward.
"'Get some fresh air,' they said," he muttered under his breath. "'Do you good,' they said. Yeah, sure. This is good. This is just great."
Winter had gripped Central like a miser holds onto gold, bringing biting winds down from the north and gray clouds overhead. Loose, powdery snow blanketed the ground. Already, a few of the personnel were starting to refer to the weather as an 'early Solstice gift from the Northern Wall of Briggs.'
A voice rang out in the street. "You've got two options, Colonel! You can either come along quietly, or wait for us to pick you off! Without that bodyguard of yours, it's only a matter of time until we hit you."
"You think so?" Roy murmured, smirking as he dropped to a crouch. "Sorry to say, my friend, you underestimate me."
Civilians had scattered at the first gunshots. Roy had had a fleeting glimpse of the street emptying rapidly as people hurried to get inside, away from the armed men and their target. Easing a cautious eye around the corner of the alley, he had time to confirm the absence of anyone except his attackers before ducking hastily away as more gunfire peppered the sidewalk in front of him.
The glove slid on, and he flexed his fingers in preparation. The knuckles cracked softly. It wasn't time yet, however; they knew he was still here, they knew they had him cornered like a rat in a trap. Once they came just a little closer . . . .
"Would you look at that," one of the strangers sneered. Roy's smirk grew; the voice was much closer than before. "He dropped something when he bolted for the alley. I guess even the great and mighty Flame Alchemist goes Solstice shopping like the rest of us."
Roy's jaw clenched at the idea they might pick up that innocuous white box he'd dropped in the snow. That was meant for someone completely different. Getting to his feet, he took a deep breath to concentrate . . . his hand flashed out past the edge of the wall, his fingers snapped, and he withdrew again.
There was a low boom! and a pair of panicked yells that brought a grim smile to his lips. Not bad for not aiming. There was the sound of an object hitting the snow, and stifled curses from a wounded man. So he'd gotten one of them at least; the odds were a little better now.
"Mustang, you bastard!" came a pained howl. "Come out and fight like a man!
The smile turned into an amused grin. "Says the guy who couldn't attack a lone target without backup! Face it, fellas, I'm more of a man than either of you!" He moved away from the end of the alley, putting a distance of ten metres between himself and the edge of the street.
As if on cue, the second gunman jumped into the opening, his face smudged with smoke, and the left side of his coat singed. His glare found Roy, the gun held in both hands tracking toward his victim —
Boom!
And he was suddenly much more preoccupied with putting out the little flames dancing on his sleeves and pantlegs. Nothing intense, merely enough to distract him from the black-haired blur that shot up the alley and only skidded to a stop to clock him in the jaw.
Stepping around the dazed body that fell to the ground in front of him, Roy shook his right hand, the knuckles aching where they'd connected with the man's face. He looked from one thug to the other, annoyed. "Listen, guys, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Two months ago, 'that bodyguard of mine' got transferred, and I've barely been able to talk to her. I'm not crazy about that." His finger pointed irritably at the charred remains of a box lying on the ground. "That was for her. I'm sure you can understand why I'm feeling a little pissed off right now."
It was highly unfortunate that, without his staff, the amount of work he had to keep up with had only increased. Here he was, trapped at his desk, when he should be out trying to think of another Solstice gift for Riza. This was so much more important than requests from the training gym for new towels in the men's showers.
There hadn't been much in the way of Solstice for Riza, growing up the way she had. When he'd come along and found out, he'd made it his wintertime mission every year since to make sure there was something for her on Solstice morning. Even when he was in Ishval, he'd transmuted a tiny glass pendant from the sand that surrounded him and mailed it to her. The next year, he'd made a matching pair of earrings.
When she had joined him in the warzone, she kept the pendant tucked inside her shirt, and the earrings in a little box in her pocket. She'd left them buried in the sand they'd come from, in an attempt to leave that place behind; he couldn't say he blamed her.
Dammit, he thought, forehead furrowing as he stared blankly at the page in front of him. It shouldn't be this hard to come up with something.
His head came up at a knock on the door across the room. His schedule flashed briefly through his mind — no meeting he was aware of, no real reason why anyone would be stopping in to see him. He knew better than to hope that it was her. Setting his pen down, he folded his arms on top of his paperwork. "It's open."
A burly man with short-cropped fair hair stuck his head inside with a smile. "Afternoon, Colonel. I hope I'm not interrupting."
Roy's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Not at all. Come on in." He pushed himself to his feet, and moved around in front of his desk to clasp hands with the newcomer. "I can't say I was expecting to see you here, Major."
The man grinned, laugh lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling with the motion. "I got called to the city for firearm qualifications; thought I'd pay a visit to Little Riza while I was here." The smile faded as he glanced around the empty room. ". . . Don't tell me I stopped in at a bad time. Is she off somewhere?"
"You could say that." Leaning against his desk, Roy folded his arms. "She was transferred to work directly under the Führer-President about two months ago. The others I brought with me from East City were transferred out of Central altogether."
Nodding slowly, the Major offered a look of sympathy. "We heard in East City what happened to Havoc. I'm sorry." He cocked his head curiously. "Why the transfer? She finally get sick of putting up with your crap?"
Roy smirked despite his best efforts not to. "Thankfully, no. I just . . . accidentally stepped on some sensitive toes, is all. They couldn't just discharge me over the sort of situation it was, so they did the next best thing: left me stranded." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I guess even a gold-star student messes up sometimes."
"I guess so." The Major regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. "They won't think anything of an old friend like me going to see her. You have anything you want passed along?"
He smiled. "No thanks. We're both in enough trouble; I don't want to make it worse." Especially when it's going to take some tricky planning to get her gift to her anyway. Communication now would only draw attention to us.
"Duly noted." They shook hands once more, before the Major turned to leave. "See you around, Colonel. I'll at least tell Grumman you said hello." He lifted one hand in a wave — nothing so formal as a salute required here — and then the door closed behind him and Roy was alone again.
He remained on his feet, still leaning back against his desk, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. There was an edge of an idea pressing at his mind . . . what was it . . . . Looking down at the palm of his hand, he abruptly got it. The Major had been wearing a pair of leather gloves: textured across the palm, with two thirds of the fingers removed, and small holes across the knuckles on the back of the hand. Rifleman's gloves.
Riza had had two or three pairs over the course of her career. They were meant to help the gunner keep a better grip on their weapon, eliminating slippage from sweaty palms while allowing the maximum range of movement. And her last pair, made of soft brown leather a few shades darker than her eyes . . . had gone missing in the move from East City.
Maybe that was it. Riza was the sort of person who preferred practical gifts, and a pair of gloves could be easily covered up as one of her own expenses. It wouldn't be hard to believe she'd bought them for herself, meaning Bradley wouldn't have a clue.
Roy grinned at his own cleverness. He could stop by the quartermaster's office after work, put in an order for the gloves (light brown again; he liked that colour for her) and they'd be in by the week before Solstice. Perfect.
And then the smile faded.
Sure, Riza liked practical gifts, but was that really the sort of message he wanted to send to her right now? Hey, I get you something for Solstice every year, so here's something that's useful. Like you. Yes, she was useful, but right now, her use was as a hostage to be used against him. He certainly didn't want to remind her of that.
Maybe I'm over-thinking it, he thought, worrying at the inside of his lip with his teeth. It was certainly a possibility, but he couldn't help but feel it was a well-placed concern.
Usually, at Solstice, he just wanted to make Riza smile. The year after she started as his adjutant, he had stood outside the window of her apartment like a lovesick teenager, tossing pebbles at the glass until she opened it. When she had leaned outside to speak to him, he'd caught her in the face with a snowball. And in between dire threats and questioning his sanity, she'd been fighting down a grin.
This year, it was especially important that she smile. They were torn apart, and it would be some time before they were permanently back together. If Roy knew Riza half as well as he thought he did, he knew it weighed just as heavily on her as it did on him.
With a sigh, he turned back to his desk, mentally striking the glove idea. He would have to come up with something else, something that showed her how much he missed her, but would still make her smile.
Sitting on a barstool, head resting on his folded arms, Roy didn't stir as footsteps came down the stairs across the room. The steps paused, then resumed with a muttered "For crying out loud . . . ." They crossed the floor toward him, picking up a business-like pace. "Fool's been down here all night . . . ."
"I heard that," Roy mumbled into his sleeve.
Chris Mustang didn't react to the response, other than to take her customary place behind the bar and light her first cigarette of the day. "Don't tell me you slept like that."
"I didn't sleep like this." He lifted his head, only to prop his chin up in one hand. "I didn't sleep at all."
His aunt smiled behind a cloud of smoke. "Not the first time you've had a sleepless night over a girl." Dark eyes shot him a knowing look. "And if it's the girl I'm thinking of, this makes it about an even dozen times over her alone." She folded her arms on the bartop. "You ready to tell me what problems Elizabeth is causing you this time?"
Roy snorted quietly. "She's not. I'm causing my own damn problems. How hard is it to get a Solstice gift for one person?"
The madame shook her head, tapping her cigarette on the edge of an ashtray. "The more you care, the harder it is. Let me guess: you want it to be something innocuous, so it doesn't draw attention from your enemies, but you still want it to be special. Am I right?"
"Always are." He smiled ruefully. "I don't suppose you have any suggestions?"
She stood straight, the knowing look back in her smile. "Probably nothing that you haven't thought of on your own. Besides, I'm not meddling in this. This is something you've got to figure out for yourself, Roy-boy." She turned away, heading toward the back room. "You want coffee?"
"Sure. Thanks." He watched her go, wondering how many ideas he'd come up with and crossed off over the course of the night. Tired eyes landed on a lacquered wooden box on a corner of the counter. Strange . . . he'd never noticed that before.
Curious, he got to his feet and circled around behind the bar for a closer look. The box was obviously of high-quality craftsmanship: dark-stained wood sanded and varnished to smooth, glossy perfection, the edges done in gold filigree, and a gold clasp with a tiny padlock holding the lid shut. Roy turned it over in his hands, looking at it from every angle, listening to the rustling of papers inside.
"Emergency contact numbers for the girls and their families," Chris said, entering the room with two steaming mugs. She'd caught her nephew poking around this place too many times to question what he was doing. "Just in case something goes wrong."
"Where did you get this?" Roy asked distractedly, running a thumb along one gold edge.
Setting the mugs down with a quiet double clack, Chris folded her arms. "There's a store over on Seventh Street that sells things like that. Vanessa found it. The owner has been a regular for a few months now; he brought us that as a . . . token of esteem, shall we say."
Breaking into a grin, Roy set the box back. "Really. Maybe I'll have to go take a look."
Chris gave a soft 'huh' of laughter into her coffee. "You tell him I sent you, you'll probably walk out of there with anything you want at half price."
The windows of the bar were dark, the door open just enough to be noticeable. Standing on the curb, Riza couldn't help but feel that something wasn't right. The building should have been filled with people, light spilling out into the street from the windows. Just to be on the safe side, she pushed the divide in her skirt out of the way and removed her gun from its thigh holster.
Easing the door open, she stepped inside. Brown eyes swept the room carefully, looking for anything out of place — there. On the table closest to the door was a glossy wooden box with silver accents on the sides. The lid was raised, a piece of paper visible inside. Her gaze narrowed, and she slipped deeper into the room to investigate it.
Her name was written at the top in a familiar scribble.
Riza:
The first present I bought you burnt to a crispSo I went back and twice checked my list.
I still wanted to tell you of my love
So I thought I would get you a pair of gloves.
But that didn't seem right,
So I stayed up all night.
The ideas I had went from bad to worse,
So I thought I would do this in verse.
I think of you day and night,
And I want you back in my sight.
There will be many Solstices to come,
I just miss you this one.
The handwriting was unmistakeable: it was definitely from him. Suddenly aware of the fact that her mouth was hanging open in surprise, Riza shut it, her teeth clicking together. She'd never known he could write like this. He had a way with words, that much was certain, but the difference between hearing and reading —
"What do you think?"
Her head came up at the voice, though she didn't look toward it. Soft footsteps crossed the floor and stopped just behind her. "Do me a favour; don't turn around," he said quietly. "You need to be able to tell Bradley that you didn't see me."
She nodded. "I was starting to worry that this was some sort of set-up," she said, replacing the paper in the box. "You have me called out here with no warning, and then lurk in the shadows until I arrive . . . ." She shrugged. "A girl could the wrong idea."
There was a soft 'huh' of laughter. "Set you up? I'm nowhere near that stupid. I'd like my body to stay bullet-hole free, thanks." There was a pause as Riza replaced her gun in its holster; she could almost feel his eyes following the movement, staring at the legs he had such a weakness for. "You haven't answered my question yet," he finally said.
She turned her head just enough that he would be able to see her smile. "I'm impressed."
Roy's chest pressed against her back as he closed the gap and slid his arms around her from behind. His chin rested on her shoulder. "Glad to hear it. You can keep the box, too; I'm sure you can think of a use for it."
"Probably." Closing her eyes, she turned in his arms to face him, her smile becoming a knowing smirk. Her hand touched his cheek, her finger finding its way to his lips as he opened his mouth to protest. "I still can't say that I actually saw you."
She felt the movement as he broke into a smile of his own, before gathering her closer, one hand possessively on the back of her head. Riza breathed deep, re-memorizing the smell of him. Her hand curled into a loose grip on his shirt, every inch as possessive as he was.
"I shouldn't stay too long," she said quietly. "They'll send our friend in the shadows to check up on me eventually." Still, she made no move to push him away, and he apparently preferred to keep her pressed flush against him.
Roy ducked his head, burrowing his nose between the edge of her shirt collar and the soft skin of her neck. "How long is too long?" he muttered.
"Before I left to come here." Eyes still closed, her hands lifted to his face, easing him gently away. "With a silver tongue like yours, I know I should trust that it's really you. I do trust you. But I have to be sure, Roy; these days, we can't be too careful."
"All right." He was quiet for a moment, the muscles of his cheek moving subtly under her fingers. He was worrying the inside of his lip with his teeth, she realized, the way he always did when thinking hard. "Okay. Sundown, September twenty-third, nineteen-oh-six. Where were you?"
Riza half-smiled. "It always has to be that," she said under her breath. "I was standing in the living room of my father's house, facing the window. And my shirt was off. You?"
"Standing behind you by about two feet, staring, and trying not to blush." Beneath her thumb, his lips twitched in a smirk. "And as for why it's always that, it's because it happened before anyone knew us. It's a safe zone . . . just like this place."
"Nothing with you is ever one hundred percent safe," Riza murmured, even as his forehead pressed against hers. "But this is about as close as we'll ever get to that. Say, about ninety-eight percent." She slipped her arms around his neck, smiling fully as his hands caressed her back. "After all, we wouldn't want things to get boring."
Roy laughed softly, a deep sound of humour that embedded itself firmly in her memory. "Of course not. Not boring, not easy . . . not normal . . . ."
They fell silent, content to simply stand there and hold onto each other. This time apart, unable to speak unless in tiny, stolen, high-risk moments, was taking a heavy toll. Riza knew that he was burying himself in work and the plans he was laying for the Promised Day, so that he wouldn't have to think about all the multitudes of ways Bradley could get to her, now that she was so close. She also knew that, just last week as she passed him in the halls of Central Command, Roy had seen the telltale dark smudges under her eyes that signalled she wasn't sleeping well, from worrying about him.
For now, she memorized the texture of his clothes, the feel of his skin under her fingertips, the press of his forehead, the touch of his hands, and the scent that made her feel light-headed and alive again.
"I'm so sorry," he said, nose brushing feather-light against hers. "Sorry that you have spend Solstice by yourself. I wish I could be there."
"Don't be," Riza asserted gently. A moment, then she smiled. "After all . . . 'There will be many Solstices to come.'"
He half-whispered 'I just miss you this one' before kissing her, long, fiercely, and in near-desperation.
You kiss her, Roy. You kiss her GOOD.