It was 2:42 in the morning.

He turned over on his side, the clammy sweat collecting stagnate and repulsive in the crevices of his skin.

2:43.

Damn it all, he couldn't sleep.

It had come to the point where he could not stand it anymore. The loss of his subordinates…the loss of her. He had come to her apartment at 11:32, nearly 3 hours ago, in a rage that she would be taken as a hostage…that they had finally discovered how much she had meant to him.

It was getting too difficult to distinguish his feelings for her. He had tried to keep them strictly professional. He had carved out a plan that they should both follow…and now…all he felt was the need to call her Riza to her face again, like when they were young. He longed to touch her. To feel her.

2:55

He turned again on the small couch in her living room. Long ago he had kicked the blankets she had pulled from the closet onto the floor. He looked down at them, bunched and indifferent to his torture. No sleep. No rest. No vindication. Only need and need and need for Riza.

"Can't sleep still?"

It was like warmth running liquid through his being, the small sound of her sleepy voice. Perhaps his rolling and kicking had been a bit noisy. He smirked as he raised his head. She stood, clad only in a brown tank top and grey military issued sweats, her hair, a strange halo about her head. Those eyes, once expressionless with a rape of innocence, were now bright again. Was she happy now? Seeing him in such a state? Did this sad performance give her some type of satisfaction?

"Come to my bed."

For a moment all Mustang could hear was the ringing in his ears after such a simple statement. But, the weight of what it meant was the cause of the sudden loss of all coherent thought. He merely stood and followed. They lay down on the soft, blue sheets facing each other. She was finally close enough that he could smell the slight staleness of her breath and nearly taste her own beaded sweat kissing her brow. He laid a hand on her shoulder:

"Come close."

And she did.

"Riza, Riza, Riza." He could finally say it freely, loudly, softly, with assurance. He said it as she moved beneath him, squirming at his delicate caress. He moaned it as her lips placated every burning inch of his body. He whispered it as his hands explored her breasts. He screamed it at that last second of release when finally it all made sense. Each chance meeting finally made sense as he crashed down on her. The bed gave a belligerent squeak as he slightly raised himself to look down on her.

"Roy."

It was all in that moment. It was all in those two simple names leaving the heart through the lips and out into the world. It would swallow them whole.

Neither one minded.