The Many Faces of Riza Hawkeye

The strong and independent female officer laying down her life countless times for that of her superior because she had been in love with him from day one. It would have been romantic and noble, if Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye had any time for things romantic and noble. She had worked tirelessly behind the scenes for years, all for the advancement of her colonel's career, hoping to see him one day lead the nation. Riza knew first hand what it was like to live so close to the spotlight, yet never step in it. She had sacrificed everything in pursuit of Roy's career, because she truly believed he could bring about the change necessary in this nation, and simply because she loved him like no other.

Riza was no fool. She kept her feelings buried deep in the recesses of her mind, knowing the danger a romantic relationship with her superior could bring. At that thought, Riza snorted disdainfully at her own reasoning. Part of the reason, but not all of it. She had seen the type of women Roy Mustang chose to associate himself with, and she was most definitely NOT like them. So every day, she did what she had done the day before that, and the day before that. She worked to help the man she loved, and tried not to listen to the tale of his latest conquest, his latest notch on the bedpost.

During the day, in the presence of others, she was tough-as-nails Lieutenant Hawkeye, best sharpshooter in the army. It was only once night fell and she was in the confines of her home that she allowed herself to become Riza Hawkeye, desperately lonely woman.

But Riza, like most, was far from perfect. She was unable to stop the spark that ignited low in her belly when Roy leaned too close and she smelled the heady mix of cologne and ashes emanating from him, or when she spotted him sparring outside, stripped to the waist and sweaty. While she couldn't stop the fact it burned her up on the inside, she kept her features neutral, a carefully composed mask whenever she was in company. Hiding the effect her superior had on her was something Riza was a seasoned pro at, having done it for so long. She was eternally grateful that she didn't blush easily, or the game would have been up years ago.

By no means did Riza Hawkeye underestimate her importance in the colonel's life. She knew she was one of the colonel's most loyal and trusted subordinates, but that was it and that was all it was ever going to be. She was 'one of the guys', as Havoc put it.

Riza unlocked her front door and wearily dropped her bag by the table in the hall. She was no longer lieutenant Hawkeye, but Riza now. Black Hayate padded up to her, nuzzling at her hand as if sensing something was wrong. She fed him and sat on her sofa, fondling the soft black fur on his head. Riza sighed and began the nightly ritual of preparing for bed.

One quick meal and shower later, Riza Hawkeye was curled up in bed. In keeping with her night-time ritual, her thoughts invariably turned to her superior. She thought of his cocky half-smirk that made her nipples tighten, and his soft black hair, especially when the wind caught it, and that smell that made her dripping wet with just the faintest whiff.

At the same time, her thoughts were tinged with sadness and despair. Thoughts were all she was ever going to have, and her imagination would have to serve her for god knows how long. Riza knew fantasizing like she did every night was getting her nowhere, but it had been a long day, and she needed release more than she needed her next breath.

She began to stroke herself in slow circles, even as tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. They succumbed to gravity and rolled down her face, becoming lost in her blonde locks. Tears of self-pity turned to tears of anger and helplessness towards her situation. The frustration she kept at bay during the day exploded to the forefront of her mind and drove her hand faster and faster.

This was the one part of Riza's night-time ritual that sometimes differed, depending on her day. The rowdier her fellow officers had been, the more times she had to raise her gun to keep everyone, including mustang, in check, the number of times mustang had been in close proximity to her, and the number of bullet clips she had to empty at the target range before heading home, all made a difference to the release she allowed herself that night. A slow and quiet day meant a slow and gentle climax, Riza's thoughts full of love for her commanding officer, as she imagined him saying three words she knew he would never say. A frustrating day meant hard and fast and more than once, a primal and animalistic side of Riza few had ever seen. Her mind's eye had her and her superior tangled together in a sweaty mess as he thrust in to her with wild abandon, as she writhed under his broad and muscular frame.

Suddenly her hands were no longer her own, but the strong, calloused ones of her commanding officer. She slipped two fingers inside herself, but in her mind's eye it was her superior, pumping in a slow, steady rhythm. She moaned his name, but the night was the only one listening. She could almost feel his breath on her skin, almost hear him whispering her name, and almost smell the unique, musky scent that was Roy mustang. Her ministrations increased to fever pitch as she sped ever closer to release.

Riza came hard, sobbing Roy's name as her climax crashed over her, half-despairingly, half-lovingly, and all-needing. Her bed felt cold and empty as she drew the covers about her, slowly coming back to reality. Her tears dried up as sleep drew closer, but she knew she would wake the following morning even more tired than when she went to sleep. A pair of smouldering obsidian eyes and a head of raven-black hair against porcelain skin would haunt her dreams until dawn brought slight relief and she could go back to being Lieutenant Hawkeye, best sharpshooter in the army.

A/N: My first fanfic! Yay! Review and tell me what you think, please and thankyou! This is also kind of a test, just to get my head around how things work around here.

FPB :)