Author's Note: My first FMA Fanfic, so be nice! 3 (critiques welcome though)
I do NOT OWN... Sadly.
ALSO: The song/title is not mine. It has been accredited to multiple performers such as Nancy Arjam and Mezdeke. All rights go to the original song writer, whomever that may be. I in no way profit from using this song in the Fanfic.
Shik Shak Shok
Riza Hawkeye had never seen an "easy" day since she joined the Amestris Military, and although she was more than glad to be out of Ishbal, her job as Mustang's assistant *coughabusedlackeycough* and their friendship *coughcoughromance * still took a toll on her stress level.
"LT. HAWKEYE!" screamed decorated war veteran Roy Mustang, ranked Colonel at Central Command.
"What is it, Colonel?" Riza barged into the office, hand on her gun and ready to fire.
"Uh... I kinda got a paper cut..." Mustang mumbled.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Guess I kinda... overreacted..."
Gun: *clickclick*
Of course, it wasn't JUST Mustang, oh nooo...
"Lieutenant..." The blond alchemist whined.
Riza kept her eyes on her work.
"Lieutenant?" His brother joined in. (Now having regained his body! :D)
Still no response.
"Hawkeye!"
"Lieutenant!"
"Riza!"
"Hawkeye!"
"MOM!"
Riza was a little startled at that, but continued on ignoring the brothers. Al eyed Edward before catching on.
"Mom!"
"Mom!"
"Hey, Mommy!"
"Maaaaawwwmyyyyyy!"
"MOM!"
"Mooooooom!"
"Mommy!"
"Mom!"
They started chanting in unison,"Mom mom mom mom mom mom MAWMYYYY!" they whined.
Was that her patience or her sanity that Riza heard cracking? She decided to give in before she did something she would regret.
"Okay, boys... What do you need now?"
"Can we have a dollar? The cotton candy man JUST wheeled his cart up to the building!"
"AND HE'S MAKING PINK!" Al chimed.
Riza stared at the brothers dumbfounded. These boys are both eighteen... And they still come begging for pocket change?"
Riza shoved a dollar into each of their grimy little hands and practically threw them out the office.
"THANKS, MOMMY!" She heard past the slamming oak doors.
And thus is only a MINISCULE portion of the things in her daily life that make her want to cut.
But not tonight.
Tonight, all of her worries would just melt away while she earned some easy cash. Yes, she was a dancer at the local bar, but her art was not of that nature. She was a night time belly dancer. She swung and shimmied her hips and popped and flexed her chest, whipped her hair around and crawled on her belly like a reptile...for the hell of it. Although the $100-$500 she made a night didn't hurt either.
Sure, her style was a little more sensual than most dancers, but never was she degrading herself or the name of the good Ishbalan art form. She was just up there doing what she loved Tuesdays to Thursdays and on weekends. (And again, a little extra spending cash never hurt a soul.)
Anyway, back to tonight. Yes, going to be awesome. Spectacular. Better than ever before, all that jazz.
But which outfit should I wear?
Riza hummed one of tonight's songs as she made her way down to the office.
Pink or blue?
She turned the knob into the small room.
Face veil? Hell, why not?
She organized her desk one last time before leaving for the night.
And lots of coins! I want them to hear me in Egypt!
"...out drinking tonight? Hawkeye?"
"Huh?"
"I said, do you wanna go out drinking tonight? All the guys are gonna be there. Falman, Fuery, Mustang... Even the Elrics," Havoc took another cigarette puff.
"They can't drink, Havoc. (-_-)"
"We'll get 'em some soda or somethin'."
"Come on!" begged Breda. "It'd be fun to see you loosen up some! You know, there are days when we even forget you're A GIRL," He said all wide-eyed.
Riza chuckled. "Sorry, men. I have a second job that I need to get to. Maybe some other time." She nearly skipped out the door before they could try another tactic.
What's she so happy about? all the men thought.
Riza walked excitedly while trying to regain her train of thought. Where was I? Oh, yeah! Bra top or tank?
Backstage, Hawkeye was breathing deeply. She was excited as always, but couldn't allow that to fray her nerves.
"On in one minute, Ms. Hawkeye," a stage crewman noted.
Riza smiled and stood up. Sure, as said, she was ecstatic, but couldn't shake this nagging feeling.
What bar did those guys say they were going to, again? ...Nah... Of all the dives in Central... Not a chance. She breathed again as she heard the bar keeper introduce her act... She meditated in the empty moment of silence. She heard the first beat of the drum.
3, 2, 1... Showtime!
The men filed into the bar one at a time wearing their civilian clothes. It was always a nice place, but tonight, there was something special going on. The area around the usually empty stage was cleared of tables and chairs, and instead was lined with colorful floor cushions. The looming scent of alcohol had been burned away by a strong incense. Rose, maybe? A little bit of Jasmine? The place was PACKED, but they still managed to squeeze themselves over to the front row.
"Good thing you're so small, Fullmetal, or we wouldn't have all fit up here!"
"DON'T CALL ME SMALL YOU **** ******* *** *** *** (etc., etc., y'all know how Ed goes).
They ordered their drinks/sodas, and started laughing and joking until the lights dimmed.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! We are proud to present tonight, the sensual...the voluptuous...and the ever beautiful, Central's very own Little Egypt, Ms. Riza Hawkeye!"
Applause resounded throughout the bar. The shocked military men all looked at each other.
WHAT?
Riza ran out to the crowd with a huge smile, clear even through the sheer veil on her face. She chose not pink, not blue, but a fiery, passionate red ensemble that shone with life. Her Double D's (A/N: YEAH, THAT BIG! ALL THAT HIDDEN UNDER HER UNIFORM!) were hoisted up by a shimmery bedazzled bra that jingled at every movement. It had trails of beads in the center that waterfalled onto her exposed tummy. Low on her hips was a thick gold V-shaped belt that pointed just under her pierced navel. A thin red cloth covered her front and another one covered her back, while trails of the same material came from her sides, adding to her wide hips and offering additional motion to her moves. Her long shaven legs remained bare to add to her sensuality. She wore piles upon piles of gold bangles on her wrists and ankles, but her henna adorned feet were bare as well. Her straight hair tumbled over her shoulders as she gracefully raised her arms over her head.
In other words: HOT. Not slutty, but hitting that slim note between sensual and FRICKIN' HAWT perfectly.
Which didn't go unnoticed by the military men. They were all taken aback, but no more than Mustang who just gaped, wide eyed and ever so slightly drooling.
And of course, they didn't go unnoticed by her, either (not with usually level-headed Falman going "OMIGAWDOMIGAWDOMIGAAAAAAWD!").
For less than a moment all their eyes met, but never distracted, she glanced away like they were just part of the crowd. Of ALL the places in Central! Are you kidding me? That face veil was certainly coming in handy as her face invented new shades of red to blush to.
But she refused to be perturbed. As every night on stage, this was her night, and they couldn't take that away from her even if they wanted to.
So she re-transformed into a dancer, a genuine smile plastered on her lips and a glow coming back into her eyes. If they're here, I might as well give them a show.
Her hips vibrated to the stringed instrument as she bounced her chest to a deep drum. The tempo speed up, and so did she. She fed off of the crowd's cheers and whistles, and as the song sped up into a climax, she jumped to the edge of the low stage to where her hips were inches from the front row, a.k.a. her coworkers' faces. She popped her hips to the new beat and looked them each in the eyes. They were clearly enjoying this secret side of Riza Hawkeye. Hey, whoever thought "military sniper" and "belly dancer" went so well together?
She backed up to the center again, ready for the action to start. She motioned for louder applause, which she received graciously. Finally the big moment arrived, where a beautiful Arabian voice trilled through the speakers.
Shik... shak... shok...
shik shak shok
shik shak shok
Nassik ya habibi il rap w il rock
shik shak shok
shik shak shok
nassik ya habibi il rap w il rock
wi ta aala nir'os baladi
halawa
dal baladi ya nour eini
halawa
wa ta aala nir'os baladi
halawa
dal baladi ya nour eini
bil albi bi shok
shik shak shok
shik shak shok!
Riza's body shimmied and curved perfectly to every syllable, like she was physically part of the song. A slow instrumental part hummed out, and she twisted and turned every inch of her body as a snake would, until she had somehow worked her way to the front of the stage. That stringed instrument sped up again, the one that beckoned her more sensual moves. She turned her back to the crowd and leaned. She was now almost bent in half, with her face hardly two inches from, you guessed it... Colonel Roy Mustang. She suppressed a nervous gulp as her eyes met his. She almost felt like stopping now, but again, this was HER night.
Her eyes never left his as the music sped up. He was blushing wildly as she calmly smiled. She then did something she might regret later: she blew a kiss to her best friend and superior then dropped to the ground dramatically as the music stopped. Her hair fell to his lap for an instant before she whipped back up and spun her main wildly. Men hooted and hollered in appreciation of her bold move. She climbed up as the music lightened and shimmied and shook the song away. The music was happier, more lighthearted now, and she moved her body as such. The music sped up again, faster, faster, and faster until she dropped to the ground once more for the grand finale. She shot up, bowed, and ran back to her dressing room for a quick costume change before the next song.
"Wow..." Mustang sighed.
"...Wow..." They all hummed.
And so it went on until midnight, with flirting and music and even more costumes, although the parties not once exchanged words. And as in Cinderella, she took one last bow as the clock struck twelve, and was out the back as soon as she was payed by the barkeeper.
J'en aime bien! What do y'all think? 3
ALSO: More stuff to get me from being sued-
Alot of this dance was inspired by Maria Shashkova and her dancing. To get a clear picture of what Riza did:
watch?v=M55rIQbBVqI