Tinted

By: Akira Asakura

Summary: Her view was always tinted. Darkened sunglasses, windows, even her view on love was tinted. All he wanted was to shed so light. RoyAi; One-shot; AU-ish.

Genre: Romance (AU because of episode 25/chapter 15)

Rating: K+; if I ever come out with a K story, the world will collapse. But no actually, it's just because Roy gives bad implications, bad Roy, bad!

A/N:
My first RoyAi/FMA story on it makes me so happy! But anyway, don't forget to review, and there will be a sequel to this once I get things straightened out with my other stories. It'll be in reference to the little trip he invites her on, which you'll find out about in the story. I really enjoyed writing it and reading it repeatedly, not to mention re-editing it several times, and I'm hoping you'll like it too, because I was hoping to at least get some fans here in the FMA section seeing as apparently Fruits Basket, Crescent Moon, and Kingdom Hearts fans don't find me a very good writer in the least. But I do believe my sort of informational, but still interesting, and sarcastic sort of writing style fits here in FMA. Let's hope it does. Yet again, help me and review. I'm willing to take criticism, flames (if for the proper reasons), and story suggestions if you actually like me that much. Now read!

Disclaimer: I, Akira Asakura, do not own Full-Metal Alchemist. If you sue you are wasting everyone's precious time.

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Stepping into the Headquarters, she slid off the glasses made to aid her sight in the sun. Smiling an actually invisible smile, she turned to the greeting voice at the front desk. "Good morning, Lieutenant Hawkeye!" She nodded to the brunette with the brown bob of hair. "Say, could you deliver these to Colonel Mustang?" Onto the stack, the girl quickly slid on a pink and flowery envelope. Hawkeye lost her smile then. "Could you give that to him, too?" The girl flashed a smile that nearly made the Lieutenant wince, or perhaps it was the obvious scent of strong perfume wafted, or maybe forced, on the note. None the less, Hawkeye gave a prompt nod. "Oh, thank you. I can't wait to get his reply!" The last was more to herself than Hawkeye, as the blonde have another curt nod.

Precisely two steps in front of his desk, always so, she stood, her whole body in the shadow of his chair, except for her head, with her hair gleaming in sunlight, always so. A tint or block of light seemed to always be with her, a precariously looming companion. A formal salute, how usual, so much like Hawkeye, gave a smile to the Colonel's face. She swiftly slipped the note from the girl to the bottom of the stack. She knew not why, but simply because formalities stated her to, or rather so did her heart. She ignored the yearning to admit that, for it was simply unprofessional, and so her view of love was left again to shadow.

The colonel noticed though, and his smirk grew. "Ah, what is this that the Lieutenant is hiding from me, perhaps a love note?" Perhaps it is from her, the Lieutenant? His hopes were crushed though, seeing the uncharacteristic pink and flowers, but most of all, the over-excessive use of perfume. "Now, now, what is this?" Interest was waning, but still he had to continue. "Dear Colonel Mustang, -how impersonal sounding-, I was hoping dinner with me tomorrow night may catch your eye. Meet me at the front office after work tonight to discuss things. See you then, an admirer… How… Original." He muttered lightly. "Sounds like 50 of the other messages I've gotten. Honestly, can't they think of better things to say? Who is this Lieutenant?"

She wished to protest, but knew nothing would be achieved until his muses were satisfied. "I believe she's called Charlotte. She works in the front office. You know: bob of brown hair, bubbly, and if bobble-heads cold be characterized, she'd be the definition." Hawkeye said this with utmost seriousness.

"Why did you try to hide it though?" His eyebrow cocked, grin ever growing.

She wasn't sure if she found that smirk charming or if she despised it with a large passion. But she gave him a straight-forward and straight-faced answer, the usual. "At work, date invitations are not at the top of the priority list." She gave him somewhat of a glower.

"Ah, Lieutenant, you ruin the fun," he teased, giving the woman a careless wave of the hand and another characteristic, not to mention annoyingly smug, grin. He then placed his palm beneath his chin, testing it "oh-so-cheerfully".

"Sir, I'm quite sure 'you ruin the fun' when you don't call back any of those little girlfriends." She half turned away from the Colonel and half winced at the word girlfriends, what a crude and almost unjust word it was for those poor girls. "There's not much work today, it being a Saturday when most are taking off for their summer vacations, and I'm sure everything is fine in your and Fuery's capable hands" –mainly Fuery's- "So, I'll be leaving. I'll check up on you around lunch. Havoc, Breda, and Falman left for vacation yesterday, so don't be expecting them." She slipped on the sunglasses again, darkening her amber eyes once again.

What a shame, wasting such beautiful eyes behind sunglasses all of the time, and to think of it, also usually behind something shadowing. A shame it is, indeed, indeed. He shook his head before stopping her with his comment. "Weren't you supposed to leave for vacation yesterday as well, Lieutenant?"

She turned around, almost smiling, and replied. "Yes, sir, but I couldn't leave without making sure you had everything you needed for the last day until summer. After all sir, no one else is here but Fuery, and he's always trustworthy, but a bit forgetful, if not air-headed." She remained informative, unemotional.

"Tell me, Hawkeye, do you ever think to enjoy yourself?" It seemed he meant to shed some light upon her now.

"Duty is first sir." The reply seemed automated, programmed, as if she were a computer, something made to do as you had it, not of its free will, but because that's all it was ever told or taught to do. Such a strict life she lived, how sad and dull it seemed. What a shame indeed.

"But seeing as summer break is upon us, would you like to join Hughes's family and myself at their beach house for a week?" Her lack of response verbally and facially forced him to add in, "And I swear to make sure you have the fullest privacy and I'll help you enjoy yourself." He tried to give her a crack of a smile, but found it difficult when he could clearly imagine the safety of her gun being cocked back and that familiar ring of a shot. What pain it would inflict ran through the mind of the Colonel. The look of his wince made it seem painful enough.

Instead of gun sounds though, to his surprise, she gave him a small smile, saying, "thank you, sir, that may just be what I needed."

She reminded him faintly of a picture that Hughes had shown him once: a much younger Riza, in civilian clothing, a black, one-piece bathing suit and sunglasses to be specific, at the Hawkeye seaside estate when he and Gracia weren't together and they'd –Riza and Maes- only met because her father was a high army official, Maes' superior. Roy wasn't sure he could believe it. Then again, he had no one left to believe, that is except for her. But how could he ask her? It was, as she said, unprofessional.

Maybe he'd get a chance to get his own picture of her on the beach. She'd look beautiful… Oh God, no, don't think about your honorable subordinate like that… But she'd be really hot… No, don't think about it… Did I mention she's hot too? He was sure his nose was ready to bleed any moment now.

He pictured the photo in his mind again and realized everything was perfect, except for her age problem. No sunglasses either, he decided, were he to take the picture. Those would definitely be out. They were like her view, metaphorically and literally, tinted. He wanted to shed some light on her shaded life, see her happy. "Say, Hawkeye, you never did say, do you ever enjoy yourself?"

"Of course, just not so often," she said feebly. She added something quickly though. "I do enjoy working here with you though- and all of the others too." She'd just barely saved herself.

"I see…" He contemplated her nervousness. She'd stuttered over her last sentence. Had she simply meant she enjoyed time with him and added on the others for fear, or hade she meant what she portrayed as the truth? "Well, I, for one, enjoy myself very much…"

"I know…" She looked down with a sense of disappointment and annoyance.

"…With you." He finished so with a smile. It was time someone finally brightened her day, so to speak. "Do tell me, Lieutenant, do you feel the same?"

"Sir, I'm not sure… Um, this is very… Sir, I- I… Oh Lord… May I-? Sir, I- I'm very uncomfortable." She took a deep breath, wincing ever so slightly. Her eyes looked every which was but his, thoughts scattering and having trouble regrouping. She wanted to say she felt the same, but she couldn't. This is work and a subordinate cannot fall in love with a superior. It is out of line, disrespectful of the rules, and lethal to our jobs. We're both set to be-.

She gasped. Was he kissing her? She wasn't so sure right then. Things were lighter. Warm lips pressed hers. She felt thick smooth locks in her fingers. When had she reached up? There were strong hands on her shoulders, strong and sure. Her mind raced with questions, but at the same moment had a sense of eerie calm. Why did that feel so right? Was it not stated wrong? How could this be so taxing? It was simply a physical exchange of emotion. But that was the answer in itself: an exchange of emotion, such a confusing human trait of such. Emotion, such a taxing being, so painful, but so fulfilling, it was just so. It hurt. No one knew the same as any other. Especially no one knew the same ache as Ms. Riza Hawkeye, certainly not. So heart-throbbing this trade was, aching each and every emotion in Hawkeye with its swings in her mind, hitting the walls with such utter force, such pain, such immense pain. How hurting it was for her, but still so fulfilling with the idea that someone had such compassion for her as to risk his high posts for a simple chance to express to her his raw emotions. Emotions, those painful things in the back of your head as you break away from a farewell embrace or those beautiful flutters that lift your heart as someone confesses their joy in being with you, they hurt so bad, but they healed as well, and it was so hard for her to let go. But time elapses, and emotions can run dry, and as all things only last so very long but also so very shortly, he had to let go of his spontaneous attempt to swoon her and let the kiss drift from both persons' lips.

"Sir, I- I…" She gave a deep breath, for they'd pulled apart.

He gave her a warm smile. "I understand. It's unprofessional as you always state, but I had to try." A wink flashed on his face, his grin sincere though looking the same as any of his other grins, usually perverted, but Hawkeye could tell how truthfully kind it was. "You're not too bad of a kisser. Now, to discuss the trip, don't forget your bathing suit, and," he snatched her sunglasses, playfully flipping the in his hands, snapping, forcing them up with a flame and onto his head, down his forehead, and over his eyes, "You can't take these" –he fingered the rim of the spectacles just to emphasize what he was sure she knew he meant- "It's time your view was un-tinted."

"Sir," she finally said, "I feel the same way." He wasn't sure if she meant that to his earlier comment, or the comment on her view, but he did not ask.