Among the Feathers

Author: MoonStarDutchess

Oneshot

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA and gain no profit from this fanfiction.

The temperature in the small town peaked at 102 degrees (38c) and that temperature was in whatever shades that existed while cowering under the sun's unforgiving and unrelenting rays. There was no sign that the clouds in the distance would come and relieve the residents and so it was up to the people to find their own relief by either staying indoors or...Well, that was really the only option. Even the lake where the masses usually cooled off was too warm to swim in. The outcome of staying indoors was that boredom would dominate the citizens, especially the teen population. Especially for two teens in particular.

"Got any chores to do?" Roy asked as he lay on Riza's bed. His right arm hung over the edge and swung back and forth, occasionally hitting the side of her arm. She was propped up against the side of the bed and relishing the air propelling from the fan in front of her. She was focused on a book, likely a romance novel from her vast collection.

Just when Roy thought she wasn't going to answer, she said, "Are you really that bored?"

"Yes."

She leaned her head back and he saw mischief dancing in her hazel gaze. "You could always cut the grass."

Roy's stomach sank at the thought of going out into the record breaking, stroke-inducing temperatures. "Okay, let me rephrase. Do you have any chores to do inside?"

"This is the only room with a fan. The rest of the house is hotter than it is outside."

That's right. "Let me rephrase again. Any chores to do in here?"

"No."

"Damn," he said and hit the bed with his other hand. "I'm bored." He sat up and moved to lie on his stomach. He grabbed a pillow and put it under his chest for comfort then leaned his head over the edge of the bed so he could look at her profile instead of having to stare up at the ceiling.

He'd thought she was attractive from the first moment he laid eyes on her even though she wasn't the usual type of girl he liked. He liked dark hair, her hair was the color of lemons; he preferred green eyes, hers were hazel. Tall girls tended to catch his eye more but Riza was average height, if not shorter.

But something drew him to her immediately.

The more time he spent around her, the more he learned what that was. Riza was intelligent beyond her years. Unfortunately, that intelligence didn't manifest in the way her father desired. She was also strong and usually kept poised when faced with Master Hawkeye's fiery temper.

"Why are you staring at me?"

Roy leapt back when he realized she'd turned her head and they were nose to nose. He lost his balance and tumbled over the other side of the bed. He started to get back up but a mischievous grin found its way on his lips.

He heard Riza move and crept under the bed.

"Roy, are you okay?"

She put her book down and stood. "Weird. I didn't see him leave the room." She folded her arms across her chest. "Mister Mustang, stop playing around."

He cringed at her addressing him that way. While her father was adamant they address each other formally, Roy insisted she call him by his first name when they were alone. It was only when she was annoyed that she used Mister Mustang. He reached out and grabbed her ankle. Her other foot took the time to rear back and slam into his nose.

"Shit!" He instinctively grabbed his nose but he jerked his hand away when the pressure shot pain through the apples of his cheeks and elicited tears from the corner of his eyes.

She lifted the edge of the quit and stared at him. Her face showed no amusement or remorse over what happened.

"Get out from under there and let's take care of your nose."

Roy groaned and crawled out from his place as she left the room. He lay flat on the bed and waited for her to come back in. He closed his eyes and moments later felt a cold cloth upon his nose.

"Keep that on there for a while. I don't think you broke it."

His eyes shot open. "Me? I'm not the one that broke it."

"That's what I just said."

"You're the one that broke it."

"It's not broken."

His eyes narrowed. "You didn't have to kick me."

"You shouldn't have crawled under the bed like a child playing hide and seek," she scolded, her voice growing in volume.

"Do you always kick first ask questions later?"

"Do you always act like an immature brat?"

"A what? That does it. Get out."

"This happens to be my room," Riza said. "And it's the only room with a fan. Ha-ha."

"Stupid summer," he muttered. He stood and walked to the door. "It's not like I wanted to spend any time with a plain tomboy anyway." Perhaps tomboy would've fit her when they first met, but now she'd taken to wearing sweaters and skirts and filling them up in ways that were enjoyable for any young man to see. Still, it was too late to take the statement back now lest she gloat. "I'm going into town."

"Fine, go. I hope you get burned to a crisp," she snapped and sat down on her bed.

He balled the wet cloth in his grasp, intending to take it back to the bathroom but instead he threw it at her. It slammed against the back of her neck and onto the peach quilt. "There's your cloth back."

She turned around, growled, grabbed the pillow from the bed, and tossed it as hard as she could. He was so stunned at her murderous look that he didn't dodge the pillow. It hit him hard enough to make him stumble backward a step.

His lips pressed together so tightly they would be invisible if it weren't for a thin line that indicated their existence. He swooped down and picked up the pillow. "You call me immature and you're throwing pillows."

She folded her arms and sat on her bed. "Just get out."

"Fine," he said and turned to leave.

"Hey, give my pillow back before you go."

Roy smirked and looked over his shoulder. He was going to say something else but then realized how completely adorable she looked when riled up. A flush colored her cheeks, her hair was ruffled, and her lips rivaled the cherry red color of her cheeks. Those features also tended to coincide with another particular feeling, and his mind moved to where young men's minds tend to go when a girl looked the way she did.

"Pillow please," she said and held out her hand as if he was just going to place it there.

"Oh? You want this?" he said and held up the pillow. It was then he noticed that his voice was nasally. She hadn't mentioned it so he wouldn't. He took a few steps toward her and stopped.

"I wouldn't have asked if I—" Her pillow kissed her face, effectively cutting off the sentence. She moved to grab it but Roy kept hold. "Let go!" She pulled it as hard as she could, trying to pry it from his grip.

"No, I've grown attached to it," he said and laughed as that familiar determined expression moved across the lines of her face.

"Give it!"

"No."

She let go and his back banged against her bookshelf. She grabbed her other pillow. "That does it!" She sprang off the bed and went after him, possessing her own feather-filled weapon. She let loose a barrage of attacks, belting him repeatedly with the plushy headrest. Soon, the pillow's feathers were drifting into the air along with Roy and Riza's laughter. Roy moved to grab her pillow as she swung again but hit the bed and fell over. Riza didn't let go of her pillow in time and she hit onto the bed.

"Déjà vu," she said. She leaned over the edge to see Roy lying on her purple carpet, staring up at her . . . with a feather up his nose.

She burst out laughing in a way Roy had never heard from her. He pulled the feather from his nose and frowned. "It's not that funny! Stop laughing. I think I broke my neck."

She made a few noises as if she were trying to speak, but no words, at least recognizable ones, came forth.

Roy grabbed her wrist and pulled her off the bed. She landed on top of him with a rough thump; knocking a bit of wind from him but not enough to hinder his actions. He flipped her on her back, bracing both of her wrists firmly against the floor with both of his hands. Her laughter ceased. Their faces were mere centimeters away from each other.

"It's . . . not . . . that . . . funny," he said in a way that indicated he wanted to drill that into her head. He started to get up but she grabbed his wrists by turning her hands under his.

"It . . . is . . . too," she said and her laughter resumed.

He grinned. Perhaps it really was a good thing. To have fun in this house was rare, to hear laughter even rarer. He stared at her expression for a few moments before leaning down and kissing her on the lips. Once. Just a brief brush.

"This funny too?" his voice came out in an airy whisper, sailing over her lips and across her jaw. He shouldn't have done it no matter the attraction he held for her. She was his teacher's daughter and . . . . It didn't matter. There was no way he could tell his mind to be logical when she was under him like that. He'd think it over later.

He let go of her wrists and started to sit up, but her arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him in place. He wouldn't fight it. Especially not after she whispered a barely audible, "Don't go."

He placed his hand on her cheek and claimed her lips once again. This time, she kissed him back as they lay among the feathers.

RW:2014