The jukebox made a loud kerplunk, whining in protest as it jolted back to life. A sickeningly sweet ballad poured from the speakers, out of sync and out of place with the rowdy, guitar-led music coming from the rest of the bar. Riza clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as a drunken couple began to slur what she assumed were supposed to be the lyrics, their voices drowning out that of the track. In true, clichéd fashion, the pub looked as though cupid had moved in. Even a romantic would consider it extreme. If there ever was a night for desperation, it was the night before Valentine's day.

Riza slid her empty glass across the bar, signaling for a refill. She held up to fingers, deciding that enough was enough. She looked down at her lovesick companion, who had strewn himself over the surface of the bar. His gaze was blank, but she wasn't sure if he was staring off into space or at her breasts. Either way, she flicked him on the forehead. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Jean groaned, turning his head so that he could rest his forehead on his arms. "There's nothing to stop. I'm just going to die alone."

"You will with that attitude." Riza picked up her glass of whiskey. She refused to give in to his self-pity.

"Some wingwoman you are," Jean mumbled. Courtesy of his friend, he soon felt a glass in his hand. He lifted his head in confusion. "Why did you order me whiskey?"

"You've been nursing your beer for the past hour, and it's only made you more depressed."

"Yeah, well, I have a right to be depressed. You wouldn't understand. You get to go home whenever you want with Ro-" Jean stumbled, suddenly remembering where they were. "With Ron."

Riza quirked an eyebrow at his terrible cover. "Ron?"

"Yeah, Colonel Mustard."

"Is he in the kitchen with a pipe?" Riza deadpanned.

"I'm being serious, Ree!" Jean despaired.

"My sex life has nothing to do with yours, Jean."

"That's because I don't have one!"

Riza opened her mouth to tell him that that absolutely wasn't the cause of the disparity, but she sighed instead. She didn't want to get within a hundred feet of that one. They weren't getting anywhere at this rate. He's your best friend. You promised that you'd help him. God, that was so stupid. Maybe Elizabeth would have better luck than she was having. She laughed flightily and placed her hand on his upper, left arm. "Oh my God, Jean. You're so funny! How do they say that in Cretan? Joue le jeu?"

Play along? Jean was about to ask what she meant, but he caught her eye and understood. He placed a hand on the back of his head and chuckled. "I'm pretty sure that's right."

Riza placed both her elbows on the bar and rested her chin in her hands. "Tell me more about that mission you went on."

Jean took a long drink from his glass. "I… I don't want to talk about it. Not to you. Pretty women shouldn't worry themselves about what us soldiers do."

"You're so protective."

"If me being a soldier can protect even one person, it's worth it."

Either Jean was a better actor than she thought, or he was a little bit serious. A quick glance to Jean's side told her that they had been joined at the bar. A woman about her age sat alone, a book on the bar in front of her. Either she didn't want or didn't expect any attention. It would be better if Jean didn't notice her just yet.

"Then tell me about everywhere you've been. You're so well-traveled."

"I don't know about that. I guess I spent most of my time in Xing when I wasn't in Amestris. Trade between clans was profitable, not to mention what we brought back."

"Excuse me."

Jean turned to face the woman, who was looking at him intently.

"I couldn't help but overhear. I only just got back from Xing. I lived with the Chang clan for about three years studying alkahestry."

"Really? Are you a doctor?"

"Not exactly. I'm not an alchemist, either. For the most part, I do research for the university here in Central."

Silently, Riza slid off of her stool and walked away from the bar. This was going much better than expected. She found an empty table near the door where she could keep an eye on her friend. His confidence seemed to be holding steady. She finished off her drink and set it down on the wood. She'd had enough. They may not have driven, but being Jean's emotional coach required a certain level of sobriety. A cold gust of wind cut through her shirt as the door opened behind her.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye?"

Riza looked up at the figure beside her. Before she could greet him, Vato Falman dropped his voice and asked "I'm not interrupting a mission, am I?"

Shaking her head, Riza assured him "No. Jean and I just decided to have a drink. What are you doing here, Vato?"

"Oh, I'm meeting up with my girlfriend."

"I didn't know that you were in a relationship."

Vato nodded. "She's been out of the country for a long time, so the other guys assumed I was making her up. Her name's Allison. She just finished a sabbatical in Xing. There she is right now, talking to Lieutenant Havoc."

Well, shit. Riza frowned ever so slightly and took a moment to think. Turning back to Vato, she feigned a yawn. "I'll have to meet her some other time. I think it's time for me to head home."

"Oh, alright, then. Maybe next weekend." Vato gave her an awkward smile and small wave.

Riza slipped out of the bar unnoticed. She fed several cens into the nearest payphone, tapping her foot as it rang. "Heymans? It's Riza. Can you do me a favor and pick Jean up from Ralph's in about an hour? I don't want him walking home." She paused. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

She felt a slight twinge of guilt as she hung up the phone. As much as she loved Jean, she knew that, if she stayed, she would become his sole confidant in his lengthy mourning phase. Was it wrong to pass the buck to Heymans? Sure, but she already had one lovelorn soldier to look after. She certainly didn't need a second one.