A/N: Sorry again this took so long. I know I usually write Naruto, but I got bored during the filler season. There will be a new Naruto fic up, probably in the distant future. XD
So here is my first FMA fic! Enjoy chickadees. I love you all.

Disclaimer: I do not, unfortunately, own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its awesome characters, good looking characters. Yes. Anime characters can be pretty good looking.


Lieutenant Hawkeye walked with a kind of foreboding in her footsteps to the room that held the colonel. It had been three days since she had been allowed to leave her bed in the hospital, but her injured arm was the least of her worries right now. At that moment, she only could think of the colonel, still confined to his bed at room 203.

She didn't want to remember that sense of utter dread when Ed told her that the Truth had taken his eyes, but it swam in and out of her mind, infiltrating her consciousness, so every night she woke in a cold sweat. She had been putting off this meeting to the last second, simply because she didn't know what to say to someone that had lost their most important sense.

Sight.

But he was her captain, and they had fought through thick and thin with him. From the war of Ishbal, to the horrors that brought the homunculi; he was always there, as was she. Still, despite that, she knew this was something they had never experienced personally, something very, very different.

As she approached the room, she hesitated for a full moment. She tried telling herself that things would sort themselves out, and this should be no different than another visit to his office. But as she inhaled the sterile scent of bleach of the hospital, every breath was a reminder of what her captain had lost, and her fingertips began to shake.

There really was no denying that she was scared.

She forced herself to open the door that seemed more condemning than welcoming, and stepped inside quietly. The room was dark, with only a few rays of a dying sun struggling through the gloom. She hated that the nurses didn't turn on any lights, even if it wouldn't make a difference. The darkness of this room had a depressing weight that she was sure that he could feel, even if he couldn't see it.

She walked slowly, her footsteps unintentionally sharp against the laminate floor. She found herself almost wishing that the colonel was still asleep so she would be given an excuse to put off this meeting for one more day. But as she looked around, the lone bed hooked up to various monitors showed that its sole occupant was indeed conscious.

"Who's there?" he called, almost defensively.

As soon as her eyes found him, she froze, her face transformed into a portrait of devastation. Sadness shone in her eyes, and she couldn't help but be disturbed by the image in front of her.

As he searched for something his eyes could not see, his fingers flitting softly over bed covers and table tops, he touched everything, and anything he could reach. She brought a quivering hand to cover her speechless mouth. She saw him as a lost man, using his fingers to see, almost to confirm that they actually existed. She swallowed uneasily, cursing the loud 'gulp' noise it made, and walked to his side, sitting on the edge of his bed.

She searched for the right words to speak, too taken aback by what she saw to make a sentence that would fit.

Where are the right words to say?

"Lieutenant?" He murmured gently, turning his head in her direction, but his eyes stayed fixed on the table beside her.

She wondered for a moment how he knew it was her, but then remembered she had to confirm his uncertainty.

"Yes, Colonel." She replied just as gently, trying to make her presence more obviously known.

He smiled vaguely, still not meeting her gaze - a fact she found disconcerting.

"I knew it was you."

He shifted again, trying to talk in the general direction of Hawkeye's voice, his fingers moving slower, but never resting as he learned the shape of the bedside table again, and again.

"Oh. How did you know?" she asked, watching his fingers in avid fascination.

"You have a certain way you walk." He replied quietly. Then, without warning, he leaned closer to his lieutenant, inhaling deeply, a coy smile twitching on the edges of his lips. She thought felt relief that he couldn't see the look of embarrassment on her features as he took her off guard, but then felt immensely guilty for thinking such a selfish thought.

"And I'd know that sweet perfume anywhere."

He pretended, for her sake that he didn't know she was blushing terribly at that last statement.

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed, with the colonel tracing everything with his ever-moving fingertips, and the lieutenant watching him, every second turning more piteous than the last.

After a few minutes, she decided that she should say something if he wouldn't.

"So… how have you been lately?" She questioned, hoping that it wouldn't be too much of a sensitive topic.

"Perfectly fine."

She winced, feeling pain at his bravado, but he continued like he didn't notice how she exhaled a little too shakily.

"There is no difference. I will still become the führer-president one day."

She said nothing, gritting her teeth against the guilty sobs that she felt welling up.

It's my fault. I should've been there; I was supposed to protect him. I was supposed to be there. That was my job.

"Your arm?" he asked conversationally, a little too blithe for her liking.

She cleared her throat silently, and prayed her voice wouldn't break in the middle of her sentence.

"My arm? No, no. It's not even important. Stop thinking about it, I'll be fine." she ranted, trying like crazy to make him ignore her problems when he so obviously had more pressing ones of his own.

"You should take better care of your arm, lieutenant. You're still my best shooter." he smiled lightly.

It was almost like nothing had happened. Lieutenant Hawkeye had no idea how he could carry on their usual everyday banter like nothing was wrong. She was on the verge of breaking down, and he seemed oblivious.

It's all my fault… my fault… why couldn't I protect him?

"... Colonel… god…" she whispered between breaths, wiping at her eyes.

"Stop that. Now."

She looked up, torn between shock and embarrassment to see her captain. His face was stern, almost angry, but she remembered that was how he usually looked when he wanted to be obeyed without question.

The only thing that was really different was how his eyes didn't bore into hers, radiating authority.

She missed that burning look so much. It made her feel important. Necessary.

"You mustn't treat me different simply because I am now blind. It doesn't affect my ability to lead in any way. In fact, I have benefitted from this." he went on, fingers flitting restlessly, never staying in one place for a second.

"The transmutation circle…and that thing they call the truth…it took away my eyes because it changed the way that I led. This is only appropriate. Nothing more than what I deserve if I really want to lead this country. A price I must pay."

She choked out a shocked gasp. "How can you say such things, after all you've lost? How the hell do you deserve what has happened to you? Don't think for one second that I can't see through your bravado." she hissed, fighting to keep her voice down so as to deter any curious nurses walking past.

He smiled lightly for a second, and then whispered back as though she hadn't just rebuked her own leader.

"Lieutenant… I can' do anything about my condition. I am…well… I'm going to die like this. So won't you just... let me pretend that it's really going to be all okay?" he murmured quietly, his voice seeming soft and measured in the dark hospital room.

At those words she burst out into tears, unable to fight them, like stormwater in an already over-filled dam. Still, she managed to control the sounds of her hysteric sobbing, managed to somehow keep silent in the midst of all the pain that leaked from her eyes for so many reasons… guilt… regret… pity. So many feelings, but no way to hold all of them in at once.

She bitterly cursed her weak human emotions.

When he spoke again, his voice was filled with a muted kind of sadness, but he was too proud to show it on his face.

"Why do you choose now to cry in front of me? Even if I cannot see you, I feel your tears. I know that you're upset."

She fought against the instinct to just blurt out, Well gee thanks, Captain Obvious, and focused on stopping the crying.

"I can feel it. There is no need for them lieutenant. I'm blind. Not dead." he soothed, leaning closer to where he felt her body warmth, but too afraid to touch, because it might've been inappropriate.

When she sensed his indecisiveness, she acted without thinking. She didn't know how he would respond, or if he would even respond at all. But she needed to do something - anything to prove that she was still here, and she had no intentions of leaving just yet.

He was close. Very close, but somehow still not close enough. She could smell the familiar musky scent that made her feel so safe and comfortable, and then she realised. He was still the same. He was still her captain, and she was his second. Still the same leader.

Still the same man underneath.

So she gently took his hand, and slowly, so slowly, brought it to her cheek. She used her own hand to press it to her face, taking in the scent of his skin, the warmth of his flesh, the strange contrasted feeling of his calloused, yet smooth hands against her supple cheekbone.

She had never allowed herself to love the colonel - there would be too much drama, too many issues to deal with, and she'd rather not have a relationship within work. But under all of that, she still had a certain fondness of him, and it showed when she chastised him for slacking off, and when he ordered her to follow him into battle and she'd respond with her sharp assent.

It was showing itself now, and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not.

It was obvious now when she looked at him, he was more than a little taken aback. His features formed a mixture of confusion, slight embarrassment, and shock. Yet she knew that what she had done was not entirely wrong, because she felt how his fingers pressed tentatively into the silken flesh of her cheek.

Oh… he's so warm… I wonder if I could…

Riza thought of how he had responded to her bold actions, and thought of sweet gestures she could show to him, but wondered if it was even appropriate.

Should I even consider such things?

But then he spoke again, and she knew that she wanted to, even if it was wrong.

"Lieutenant…" he exhaled shakily, unsure of what she meant behind her actions.

She shifted his warm hand just a little lower, so his palm was situated just under her jaw line. The tips of his index and middle fingers now rested lightly on her lips, and without even realising what she was doing, or what this could suggest, she kissed his fingertips softly. He inhaled, and it sounded too careful, too measured to her ears, like he was trying to restrain his voice.

He pressed his index finger a little firmer against her lips, and she understood what he was asking. She opened her lips just so, where he slipped just the very tip of it inside. She closed her lips around his finger, sweeping her tongue over it, where she applied a gentle suction. She didn't missed how he lost control for a second and sucked in a shaky breath.

She didn't think, but when he removed his hand, subtly sweeping his thumb over her cheekbone again before returning it to his lap, she looked up from her tender actions. She saw how his face had taken on a no longer confused look, but a look that understood her need to show that she was still there, but was unable to show how she felt unless she touched him.

Roy never thought in a hundred years that his lieutenant would ever be so forward with him, but then, there had never been a reason before for her to show him how she felt, when words could not. It was true that he cared very much for her, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined being intimate with her many times, but he stayed away from such thoughts. They wouldn't help him get where he needed to be. The führer-president of this nation.

For an immeasurable amount of time, it was just silent. Both were lost in their own thoughts, wondering if what they had just done had changed things, if what they had done was appropriate. They both thought of things they could do, the colonel imagined kissing her senseless, and she imagined taking his hand and running it through her blonde hair. But neither of them acted on their thoughts, so the just waited for the other to break the silence.

The lieutenant was the first to speak.

"Riza." she whispered, yet it was like a scream against the choking silence in the room.

"What?"

"Call me Riza. Even if it's just for now." she murmured, just as quietly as before.

His face took on an unreadable look, and for a moment, he just sat there, staring at the same place on the nightstand. After a moment, he lifted his hand again, searching, fingers splayed and desperate for contact. She knew somehow that he was looking for her, so she met his hand with her own, and he trailed his fingers up her arm, across her shoulder, to her neck, where he held her in place, his thumb moving so he could feel her pulse, which raced wildly against his grasp.

He brought her face closer, so close she could feel his breath on her neck.

"There is no denying that you are my lieutenant. I can only ask you to follow me into battle. But …this…" he began, hesitating.

She leaned closer, stroking the back of his hand with her own slender fingertips.

"I said I would follow you to the depths of hell. So let me follow you. Don't act like I can't see what this is doing to you. Let me follow you to your own hell, and I'll be there with you every second." she whispered back.

His lips quivered momentarily, and he thought of how much he would really like to kiss her, but instead, he lowered his head, and closed eyes that did not see.

"My own hell, hmm?" he said, smirking at the irony of it all.

"I know that you can't see me. But you know I'm here. You can feel my presence, you smell my scent, you hear my voice, and touch my skin. I am here, in every essence. And that is all that matters now." she continued, stroking a tentative hand down his jaw.

He listened to her brave words, but still thought of the things that were very wrong with her words.

"…listen, lieutenant…" he said quietly.

She shook her head. "Colonel I… just for one moment…let there be no colonel, no lieutenant. Just a man, and a woman, together, fighting together for each other."

He hand grew fractionally tighter against her neck. "This is not a war."

"But it is a battle that you must win."

Silence ensued yet again, and he pondered her declaration. Would she really be so willing to stand by him? This was so very different to everything else they had been through - purely personal. He wasn't sure if she knew exactly what she was offering here.

But there was no denying that he wanted her to stay.

He lifted his head again, and used his senses to detect how close she was. He felt he breath dancing across his lips, and he realised that if he wanted to kiss her, he would just have to move forward. It was so tempting, so desirable, he wanted so badly to taste her lips, and he wondered if she saw him mentally debating whether or not to just kiss her and screw the consequences, or let her be.

But in the end, he decided against kissing her just yet - there would be plenty of time for that later. If he kissed her now, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop.

He hesitated for only one more second, and then moved to press his lips against the soft spot under her jaw, on her neck. He let his lips rest there for a few seconds, listening to her steady breath, losing himself in the scent of talcum and sweet floral notes. He let himself get lost in her, and concentrated on her sweet scent, her warm hands on his shoulders, the soft skin on her neck.

"But at the end of the day, Riza, this is all that will matter. A leader that is ready to change the world…"

"...and a lieutenant that is ready to stand with him no matter what." she finished for him, nestling her neck against his face.

"I need to you to guide me where my eyes can't follow." He murmured, voice muffled against her skin, yet he knew that she heard every word.

She nods, reassuring him with her hands, stroking over his pitch black hair.

"Yeah. But tomorrow."

Then he tilted his head up, and whispered something else into his ear. She gave a quiet sound of approval, and detangled herself from him, stood and locked the door, and pulled the hospital curtain shut.

She made her way back to him, and moved herself to the bed where he laid waiting, and straddled his hips, noticing how he shifted under her. His hands snaked over her hips, and her chest, to her head, where he slowly undid the clasp in sweet-smelling flaxen hair.

"Yeah." He agreed, running his fingers through her locks.

"It can wait til tomorrow."


R&R Please. :P