Roy both loved and hated these particular types of missions. Which he shouldn't technically be on in the first place. He was the commanding officer in charge, so he should have been behind the scenes, well out of the danger zone. But it was a well understood fact by everyone in the Eastern Command Center that if his team were to go out on a mission, he would be right out there with them.

A part of him wondered if some of the higher ups were hoping that he would get himself shot one of these times out.

His upper lip twitched. Being undercover often meant going in disguise, and Roy was not loving his. One of his men, Havoc or Breda he was sure, suggested that he wear a fake mustache on his face and now he was stuck with itchy hair glued to his upper lip. If he ever found out which one of them suggested it, he would be sure to repay the favor in full.

But he would gladly endure the near unbearable itch of the fake mustache any time if he got to see Riza looking like that.

For one thing, she was out of the shapeless blue uniform she saw her in daily and wore a sleek red dress that only stopped about mid-thigh. The curves he'd known were there were on display for the world to see.

And while he liked that he didn't have to use much of his imagination to see what she looked like under her uniform, and he really liked it, he hated the way the other patrons at the bar looked at her. Like she was a bit of meat and only there for their entertainment. It made him sick. Riza was so much more than some pretty thing to hang off of the end of your arm. She was a fierce warrior woman who deserved better than what the world had given her.

Better than what he had given her.

He could feel the mask he was wearing for the evening fall before he could stop it. Time and again he wondered what he had done to garner such devotion from his Lieutenant. He couldn't think of any more than a few times where he had enriched her life rather than bring her down.

Quickly he blinked away that train of thought. If his Lieutenant were to look over and see the look on his face, she would be able to recognize it immediately and he would be in for a tongue-lashing later over his 'misplaced loathing.' Or for dwelling on it when he should have been focused on the mission.

Blinking forcibly a few times he returned to his surveying of the room. There were the regular drunks at the counter, attempting to get more booze from where Breda was masquerading as a bartender. Havoc was near the door, flirting with a few of the women in the bar who didn't seem to have any dates hanging off of their arms at the moment. He was doing as well as always, which was to say rather poorly, although that could've been in part because his attention was divided between them and his mission. Roy did make a mental note to remind Havoc that the unnecessary flirting was to be kept to a minimum when they were in the midst of an operation.

The objective for the evening was to flush out the head of a weapons smuggling ring that had been giving them grief for the past few months. An anonymous tip had some in that there was going to be a drop of a large multitude of weapons that night. It had specified that it would be going down in or around the very bar that Roy and his team found themselves in before heading to a second location for the actual trade-off.

The whole thing smelt of a trap. Which was why they were staking out the bar in their disguises.

His mustache started itching again. He managed to avoid reaching up to scratch it, but he couldn't repress his upper lip from moving and attempting to relieve some of the irritation. Off-handedly he wondered if the Lieutenant's wig was just as itchy.

She was a dark brown tonight. Her wig went halfway down her back and it was curled just perfectly. And while Roy had to admit she had the facial structure to work the brown curls, he still preferred when it was just the natural straight blonde hair that she kept pinned up for regulatory purposes.

While his thoughts drifted towards his Lieutenant, he caught himself looking over at her again. And this time she noticed his wayward eyes. In actuality, she had probably known he had been watching her earlier, but now she looked back. Her eyebrow raised when she caught his eyes, and he felt a small amount of heat rise in his cheeks. There were times when he thought he was capable of being discreet, but sometimes it appeared that he was about as subtle as a train.

Tonight it appeared he was going to be the latter.

He could only hope that she was only reading the thoughts in his head because they had been together so long and could read each other like a book, rather than being as overt as he feared he was.

With a smirk on her face that sent a rush down his spine, his Lieutenant rested the pool que on the table and walked towards him.

A string of curses ran rampant in Roy's head as he fought the small amount of panic as the beautiful woman approached him. After being raised in the presence of many beautiful women, it would be natural to assume that he could maintain his composure when dealing a single woman. But none of those women were this one. None could take his breath away yet return it in the way that she could.

He was in too deep.

She stopped and rested her forearms on the table, leaning in such a way he had to consciously remind himself of where her face was. Over her shoulder, some of the other patron in the bar ogled what was behind her. Roy had the sudden urge to roast their eyes.

"Can I help you?" He asked, forcing his attention to the caramel eyes in front of him.

"It's more if I can help you. Or are you too shy to offer to buy a girl a drink?"

Despite the words coming out of her mouth not being something that his Riza would say, there was definitely something about them that reminded him of his oldest companion. Or maybe it was the twinkle in her eye that was similar when she was about to do something he wasn't about to forget any time soon.

Work. He was at work.

"That depends. Would the lady be interested in a drink?" Roy attempted to give the smirk he reserved for when he was playing the womanizer. It felt as if it fell flat.

He blamed the damn mustache.

The Lieutenant giggled. No, not the Lieutenant. Elizabeth was out to play right now. But it was only another reminder that he was working. Not in a daydream or a fantasy of his. Which he didn't entertain. At all. Not once.

"My friend Kate says that I should be wary of offers from strange men."

Ah. She had news from Fuery to relay then.

"Although Jacquelyn was insistent that it would be the best way to have some fun. Apparently, I don't get out enough for her tastes."

So Jean had eyes on their target.

Riza slipped into the seat across from him. She folded her hands together in front of her face. A trait Roy recognized as something he did as well. Her foot lightly brushed against his ankle underneath the table. Roy fought the images of when they were young, before everything went to hell.

"Is that so? Do you think you need to get out more?" Roy rested his chin on one of his hands. His nose twitched.

Riza smiled. But it wasn't a Riza smile. A Riza smile was small and had an almost hesitant quality that was uniquely Riza. This was an Elizabeth smile. It was too wide and too attention seeking to fit his Lieutenant. It didn't belong on her face.

"I think that it's about time I take some time for myself and have some fun. If you know what I mean."

Roy could practically hear some of his other men snickering at the line that was so un-Riza-like.

"I think I do. Would you mind getting out of here then?" Roy stood and offered his hand to the blonde-turned-brunette.

In turn, Riza gave another Elizabeth smile, but placed her hand in his. He could feel the calluses from years of working with weapons on her palms. Something that spoke of the woman behind the acting that was real. Even if they were acting under false pretenses.

Looking about the bar gave Roy the positions of his other men. Breda was still behind the counter of the bar. It was unlikely that the man was going to be needed until after they had the cuffs on their guy. But Roy knew that the man had his standard issue service weapon on his person and wouldn't hesitate to jump in if Roy and the Lieutenant were overwhelmed. Havoc had already slipped his coat on and was out the door. He would continue to keep eyes on the suspect, but wouldn't engage. After receiving the signal from Roy and Riza he would head to his lookout point where he would cover them from above.

Ideally it would be the Lieutenant that was covering their asses from above, but after much discussion it was agreed that a couple making their way home would be less suspicious than two men who hadn't arrived at the bar together.

His Lieutenant was preferable company anyway.

Together they gathered their coats for the evening and walked out the front door. After an accidentally-on-purpose nudge from Havoc, Roy's hand possessed a slip of paper about where they were headed.

"Sorry sir," Havoc mumbled. He tipped his hat. "Ma'am."

As Roy and Riza walked past him, Roy could've sworn that a smirk appeared on Havoc's face at the sight of Riza with her arm slipped through his. Roy told himself that it was only for their cover. But he couldn't deny how right it felt.

A quick glance at the slip of paper told him where they needed to go, and they worked their way towards the alley Havoc had directed them to. Their pace was quick enough to be able to catch their man in the act, but slow enough as to not arouse suspicion from the other passers-by on the street. And to allow Havoc time to cover their backs from his position.

The closer they got to the alley, the more and less subdued their acting became. More in the way that the Lieutenant's giggling grew more pronounced and that she leaned far more heavily on her superior officer with a hand slipped under his coat. Anyone glancing in their direction would see two lovers making their way home. Less in the way she was reaching under his coat to grab one of the extra guns he had on his person.

There had been few things that she couldn't have hidden underneath the dress she wore.

Together they turned down the alley where their suspects were supposed to be meeting, keeping with their charade but also eyeing the entire scene.

Two men were standing across from each other, haggling about the price of the transfer. The one to the left insisted on the higher number, while the one on the right had stopped firmly at the predetermined price. Another man was leaning against the wall, one eye on the drama unfolding before him the other on the rest of the alleyway watching for interlopers who wandered too far.

Like Roy and his Lieutenant.

"Hey! What are you two doing down here?" The man leaning against the wall shouted once he caught sight of the disguised military officers. He stood up straight and hand his hand to hip, presumably over a gun.

Riza drew closer to her superior and slowly slipped the gun from its holster.

"Oh dear. It appears that we took a wrong turn."

Riza's tone of voice may have fooled the other men in the alley into thinking that she was tipsy and flirty, but Roy could hear how artificial her voice sounded when compared to her everyday speaking voice. It felt wrong. Dirty even.

And not in a fun kind of way.

Two of the three men were walking their way closer to Roy and Riza. There was a predatory way in which they moved, and their eyes were fixed solely upon his lieutenant. The urge was there to light their wandering eyes on fire. Still, the hand thrown over her shoulder tightened a little bit.

"How much do you think they overheard?" One hissed to the other.

The other was already withdrawing a weapon from its holster. He kept it from pointing at them directly, but he was capable of changing the direction within seconds if he decided that Riza and Roy were a big enough threat they needed to deal with. And those chances were high.

"Doesn't matter," the one leaning against the wall started to join his compatriots, "if they heard even a little, they're a liability. And liabilities need to be dealt with."

Roy and Riza found that they were now at gunpoint from three sides.

Dropping his hand from Riza's shoulder, Roy took a small step away from the woman. He offered he hand out to the men with their guns pointed at him.

"Gentlemen. Surely we could come to some sort of outcome where we wouldn't have to resort to violence? The lady and I don't want to cause any more trouble tonight." Roy wasn't acting. He didn't want to have to deal the extra paperwork that would have been required to fill out if they got into a fight. He disliked paperwork in the first place, extra soured his mood even more.

It was clear that the suspects weren't going to take Roy's offer. Not with three gun still pointed at them, and one creeping dangerously close to his lieutenant. One of Roy's eyes kept a secure lock on that one. There was something in his eyes that unsettled the Colonel.

They were at a standoff. The undercover military officers weren't making their move without certainty that these were the men that they were after. If they were arrested at that moment, the evidence they had would only be circumstantial in the courts. They needed a conformation that the drop was taking place.

And that one thug was entirely too close to his lieutenant now.

"Listen, you're going to want to take a step back from the lady," Roy warned. "She doesn't take lightly to people invading her personal space."

The man only scoffed. He then reached out and placed a hand on Riza's shoulder. And even though she wasn't as close to Roy as she had been before, he could feel her stiffen under the touch.

"Charlie, we don't have time for your fantasies. The drop is about to go down, and we need to be there to make sure that they don't screw us over. The boss wouldn't be pleased if we got hustled again."

'Charlie' sighed and dropped his hand from the lieutenant's shoulder. He took a small step backwards and leveled the gun right to Riza's forehead. "Sorry love," he said. From the gleeful look on face, he wasn't feeling very apologetic about what he was about to do.

Fortunately, he never got the chance to pull the trigger. The moment his thumb went to the safety of the gun, Riza was in motion. The gun in her grip hidden by Mustang's coat appeared and was aimed directly at the one who had been leaning against the wall. Her other hand shot out and knocked Charlie's gun backwards. The force of her movement forced his gun to collide with his face. There was a gush of blood as his nose broke.

He fell to the ground clutching his face. Riza caught his gun and aimed it at the other man who had been in discussions with the man now bleeding on the ground.

"I told you. The lady doesn't appreciate her personal space being invaded," Roy added helpfully to the man on the ground.

He in turn glared up at Roy and Riza. He uttered a few words that were decidedly not appropriate and Roy's face fell. Roy pulled his own gun from its holster and pointed down at the bleeding man.

"That was rude," was the only thing he said.

Suddenly, the other men broke from their state of shock and lunged. One was quickly incapacitated with a shot from the lieutenant in the knee, and he dropped to the ground. The other managed to evade the bullet that was sent his direction and got in close. A knife that had not been visible shot out and found its mark against the Lieutenant's wrist.

The breath in her lungs escaped at the sudden pain and her gun dropped to the ground.

Distracted from the breathy sound of his lieutenant's pain, Roy moved his eyes from the individual at the end of his gun to observe what was happening in front of him. Riza's face had been set dangerously. And despite the blood flowing out of her wrist, she used the hand free of her gun to twist the man's arm back. His cry of pain was more audible that the woman's, but like her, he refused to go down.

The man dropped the knife.

Despite his eyes someplace else, Roy's gun remained from wavering from its target, but being at the barrel of a gun did nothing to deter what Charlie did next. As quickly as he could, he heaved himself from the ground, grabbed the barrel of Roy's gun, and landed a fist in Roy's face. Roy staggered back and his grip loosened on his gun. The opportunity was taken, and it was wrenched from his hand.

By the time Roy had recovered from the punch and straightened back up, the barrel of his own gun was inches from his face.

"Shit."

The word seemed apt for the situation.

Roy slowly raised his hands so they were parallel with his head. He supposed that now it would be a good time to bring out the flame alchemy, but with a gun poised inches from his face, it was unlikely that he would be able to move fast enough to get his gloves out of his pocket and alchemize the air around his opponent before his brains met the open air.

Shit.

"You shouldn't have come down here tonight. You could be at home with your woman," Charlie sneered. He pulled back the safety.

There was no response from Roy. His face stayed exactly the same. But he was quickly looking for a way out of the situation. Where was Jean? He was supposed to be the one watching them from above to ensure that this wouldn't happen. If only Charlie would take his eyes off of him for a split second, he would be able to get his gun out of his hands and-

There was a gunshot, and Roy immediately looked down at his person to see where the bullet had entered his body. He felt no pain, and could see no entrance holes or bleeding when he looked down. Had Charlie missed?

A thud landed in front of him, and Roy stopped his inspection of himself to see that it was Charlie on the ground. Bleeding. From a gunshot wound.

His first thought was that Havoc finally decided that the danger was high enough to warrant his involvement. But judging by the position where Charlie was laying, whimpering, and the position he knew that Havoc was in, there was no way their sniper had managed to fire that shot. He would have gone through Roy for it.

Finally, he looked over at his Lieutenant. She was glaring. At him. He swallowed. He knew that there was going to be a lengthy lecture directed at him later in the evening. Not that he needed the reminder.

Having your own gun pointed at your face could do that to a man.

Feet were running behind him, and Roy looked over his shoulder to see Breda approaching from the entrance of the alley and Havoc climbing down from his perch.

"That was a close one there, Boss," Havoc said. He was smiling around his unlit cigarette.

Roy scowled at the blonde man.

"Havoc's right sir. You need to maintain your eyes on the target at all times," Hawkeye added. She finished securing the cuffs on the man she had been wrestling to the ground and passed him off to one of the other officers that had arrived on the scene by then. She walked over to Roy and her glare did not move from her face.

"It's dangerous to allow small things to distract you from a potentially dangerous suspect sir. What if I had not been there to catch the blunder you made?" There was a fire in her eyes that could have caused a lesser man to take a step back.

"Yeah, your pretty face wouldn't be so pretty anymore. Not that it was with that bush on your lip," Havoc offered.

Breda choked on the laugh he attempted to keep inside. Both of them received a glare from their superior.

"And what about you?" It was his time to turn the tables. "You're injured!"

"It's only a scratch! Nothing worth being a complete idiot over! I can handle a little bit of pain, as I'm sure you are well aware of!"

Any retort that would have come out of Roy's mouth stopped dead in its tracks. The flush that had slowly taking over his face as he argued with his lieutenant was chased away quickly by his paleness. His eyes grew wide.

The other two lieutenants blinked rapidly. Had Hawkeye just insinuated-? No, she and the Colonel wouldn't. Would they?

Hawkeye noticed the standstill that the others had taken. Her face took a vaguely puzzled outlook while her mind churned over what might have happened to warrant such a reaction from the both of them. Her eyes widened minutely and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks when she figured out what it was that caused the other men's reactions. It was only there for a moment before her face returned to the normal impassive one and she looked back to the Colonel.

"Permission to be dismissed, sir."

Still stunned by what she said, he only nodded minutely. It was only when she had walked nearly all the way out of the alley did his composure come back and giving a brief nod to his other lieutenants, did he follow her as quickly as he could without seeming like he was in a hurry to catch her.

Havoc and Breda shook their heads at the interactions of their superior officers. Havoc slung his rifle over his shoulder and bent down to assist Breda collect the evidence that would help them prosecute the case. Every once and a while they would look over their shoulders to see Hawkeye and the Colonel talking away from listening ears. The discussion they were having was animated and involved close proximity to the other.

Breda chuckled. "It would be easier on everyone if they just got it over with."

"I know. She doesn't even look remotely like herself, and he was still making those eyes at her," Havoc agreed.

"Who was?" Fuery interrupted. He was winding the last of his cords for his radio transponder in his hands. He had missed the entirety of the conversation that had occurred beforehand.

"The Colonel," Breda said jerking his thumb over his shoulder. Fuery looked to see the Colonel and the Lieutenant whispering urgently to each other, the Lieutenant shedding the brown wig to expose the sweaty blonde hair underneath it.

Havoc looked over Fuery's shoulder. He hummed a little.

"Man, if they keep making those eyes at each other, they're not going to be making it to a bed later."

Fuery spluttered and almost dropped the cord in his hands.

"They what?" His face turned redder faster than the Colonel could come up with an excuse not to do his paperwork.

Havoc looked down at the newest addition to the team. There was disbelief etched in every line in his face. Fuery was younger than most of them and had a rather sheltered life growing up. Yet Havoc refused to believe that the small technical genius couldn't recognize the sexual tension between their commanding officers.

Breda laughed and clapped a hand on the shoulder of the younger man.

"You've got a lot to learn buddy. Give it a few more weeks, then you'll be seeing it too."

"Weeks? Man, it'll take days before Fuery will get sick of it as well." Havoc turned back to look at the smaller bespectacled man. "We've got a betting pool if you want to join. On when they finally give up on the charade. I can't remember what the pot is up to at this point, but it is big."

Fuery only spluttered at the thought of betting on his superior officers' love lives. Breda only chuckled and steered the spluttering kid away back towards the car. Havoc was right behind them, not bothering to hide his laughter at the embarrassment of his comrade.

But as they walked away, none bothered to turn around to look at the Colonel and his Lieutenant standing against the wall. They missed how Roy Mustang's lips moved as he whispered something in Riza Hawkeye's ear. They missed the smallest of smiles peak out from the stern demeanor of the blonde lieutenant. They missed how subtly a key passed from one pocket to another.

In the end though, Havoc was right.

A/N: Let's hope this doesn't suck as much as I fear. It took me way longer than I would have liked for it to be completed, but that's because my friend had to pick a prompt that I have no experience writing in. It was a good learning experience I suppose. Please, leave me a review. I would really appreciate it after the headaches this has given me.