Please note that this one-shot is revealing one particular spoiler (Episode 25/Chapter 15 I believe?), and that this one-shot is set after that particular event. Riza drops Mustang off to his home, wanting to make sure he was going to be alright. This was supposed to be posted on Valentine's Day, but things happened. Please enjoy my long "drabble".

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Disclaimer: I, Candide Avedo do not own anything that has to do with Fullmetal Alchemist, nor any other franchise I fail to mention.

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That Unattainable Luxury

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To what extent she should follow him? Knowing he was upset and concerned about one of his most faithful peers gone must be overwhelming. Even with the war and the constant reminder of human mortality, Maes Hughes left a big hole in Roy Mustang's heart.

Not as a lover, but as a friend and confidante.

"Lieutenant, I require your assistance this evening, promptly follow me." Was all that was said in this serious tone that she was familiar with forever. There seemed to be no urgency, no great dilemma and Riza felt her head swim with curious questions as to what would make him ask simply so.

This day, her devotion was challenged with his request for her to follow him back to his personal quarters, where generally no opposite gender was allowed within the building where it was located. Her rank and relationship with him was so known that no one challenged this, with various officers having seen her within the halls every now and then; most particularly when she was given the task of prying the Colonel out of his bed on occasion.

"It's late, whatever do you need help with at this time?" Riza asked, merely to put up some sort of resistance, since he knew she would follow him nevertheless. "If it's to ask about my opinion on what you would wear on a date, I thought we have established that I was not necessary for that task.''

Making such a flippant comment right after the funeral might be heartless of her in the opinion of others, however he had requested that much of her once before. A distraction, or putting forth something that he could in turn focus on next until he was more emotionally prepared to mull over it.

"I'm not going to lie Lieutenant, it is not one of those times." Roy replied quietly, his mood echoed by the slow swagger of his gait.

Roy stoically led the way into his room, which right after the tragedy he neglected to tidy. The smell of alcohol permeated Riza's senses, bottles of various liqueur made camp on almost every surface. It was impossible, her logic could not make a conclusion aside from Roy managing to work intoxicated evident from the many bottles. Soiled clothing was tossed in a corner, missing the over-flowing laundry basket. She carefully concealed her dismay at him, instead focussed on his form trudging about in the mess of his room.

"Sir, will you be okay, shall I call for someone to be with you for the evening?" Riza asked. Perhaps they could call for Major Armstrong from his duties for a time, merely to keep an eye on him and guarantee he would not do anything rash and wreckless. Roy had wandered into the bathroom, where she could hear him rummaging through a drawer.

A moment later he emerged, face still unreadable. What was in Roy's hands however, was what she least expected. In his hands was a razor, one a man would use if he were to shave facial hair. "I'm going to have to ask you to help me with this one task, Lieutenant." He brandished the razor in his hand.

Riza was no stranger to Mustang's sometimes-bizarre requests. She shrugged and joined him in the bathroom, facing the mirror. "This is a little unconventional sir, but if it helps.''

Her Colonel nodded, grabbing a towel in case he needed to clean up any mess. "Not going to ask for much Lieutenant, just a quick one." With that Riza began her work, putting firm pressure on his shoulder in order to keep him still. It was funny, there were no stubbles that needed to be tamed she could see.

From his attitude after the funeral, to his neediness now, her worry slightly deepened. Whatever it was, Roy was grasping onto the last bits of his self control, in the meantime unsure of which direction to turn to at this point. The worry that Maes had stumbled upon some sort of forbidden military conspiracy lingered in their thoughts. Roy will have a hard time coping with the loss of Brigadier General Hughes, further weighted by having left a loving wife and daughter behind. A devoted family man who looked forward to watching his daughter grow, followed by an untimely death.

"Ouch."

Riza blinked, staring blankly at Roy's slightly pained expression. She was lost in her thoughts that she hadn't been thinking of what she was doing in the meantime. The razor had placed a cut near Roy's jaw, a red line of blood swelled beneath her fingers.

"Sir!" Riza stammered out, embarrassment reddening her face. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking clearly-" she faded abruptly, grabbing the cloth from his hands to wipe the small trickle of blood that could stain his shirt. Riza couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes, fearful that he could read her thoughts.

It wasn't that deep nor large, but she was positive that her mistake would leave a lasting scar. Great, he will complain about his chances of getting a date with an injury to his face like this I bet.

A hand rested over hers in mid-wiping process, using Riza's hand to cup the side of his face. Questioning the abrupt stop, Riza waited for the reprimand and looked up at him.

"Riza." Roy stared at her solemnly, still holding her hand in his, voice thick and heavy with emotion. Realization struck her hard, particularly for the reason why she was bequeathed this task. And with that look, she knew. From the way his hand trembled over hers and the heat the emitted from it, to his silent and hesitant demeanor, she knew.

It had been years since he had spoken her name aloud so softly. Even her own father had not given her such courtesy.

He was concerned for her own well-being, for her safety. He questioned his own decision in putting her life in danger for his own cause, especially when she was connected to the man he once sought guidance from. As if her display of devotion was not enough for him, not any more at this point.

A man that was a faithful friend to Roy succumbed to the dangers of their assignment. Roy now in turn was asking her, silently, if she was still willing to follow him. How far she would push the boundaries, to stick out like a sore thumb from the ordinary in their work. To draw attention and bring danger as Hughes had, to a path of no return, most-likely even death.

Riza sighed inwardly, her fingertips tracing his skin, the injury now a minor event in her (and surely his) mind. There was no need for words, as their rank and work forbid their relationship to tread further dangerous waters.

Instead she looked deeply into his eyes, willing him to see, even if for just these few moments; for him to stare into her eyes, peek into her soul, and feel the resolve Riza wanted show.

That concern he silently expressed was almost overstepping boundaries, and she knew. They both knew. All this was the most she could offer up to him as well. Riza's reciprocating eye contact was well-received, Roy's mouth had opened in awe. He'd understood.

Their meaningful stare; with softened eyes, relaxed lips, and relaxed brows conveyed feelings much deeper, above and beyond physical contact.

"Roy. I swore to you that I'll follow your footsteps. Don't turn me away now. Why doubt my will?"

"I see. You fully understand that you're able to jump ship whenever you wish, correct?" He smiled slightly, as a comforting gesture, but Riza won't be fooled. "I've been wanting to say this Lieutenant... I believe I have an idea on what's going on in your mind."

"Pray tell sir, what do you think is on my mind?" Deliberately Riza enunciated every word, trying to think of what he assumed was what was in her mind.

He was silent for a moment, keeping eye contact and regarding her demeanor carefully, as Roy always did. The appraising and calculating gaze that made Riza feel transparent and vulnerable. "I apologize... You must still hate me for how things ended with your father-"

"Get that stupid thought out of your head, and let me clean you up." Riza chided, breaking off their eye contact and taking hold of his chin to properly wipe off her mess. She could feel the heat of his gaze still focused on her. There was unease in the pit of her stomach, realizing what he meant with those words. The thought he had in regards to her father's treatment of her was unnecessary. He didn't need to feel the blame for it, did he? Could she honestly say that she did not hold a grudge against him, even way before now?

Thankful for the distraction of wiping his face clean, Riza replied; "That is not a justifiable concern."

Roy chuckled, and Riza could feel his breath on her face. "What a woman."

It was a relief that her words were satisfactory. Because it did matter. Jealousy HAD reigned over Riza from her father's preferential treatment of his apprentice. With every bone in Riza's body, Roy was a source of revulsion. From meeting Roy, spending so much time with him, and knowing what he was like, Riza had come to trust him. His dreams were what she wanted in the world. She could still not admit the last key thoughts to herself. The way her ears would perk at the sound of his voice, or name being mentioned. She was one of the only few that understood what was going on behind that (more often than not) facetious facade; he needs her more than ever. And no matter how hard he pushed her away, she would remain as persistent- Riza knew better than he did of course.

She did not believe in romantic idealization, as those were driven away come after losing childish innocence. Love and romance, in this day and age was an unattainable luxury.

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[Author's Note August 16,2015:] It actually didn't turn out the way I had planned, felt as though it is more bittersweet. As always, thank you for reading!