A/N: Written on the heels of harping on my boyfriend that if he didn't wear sunscreen at an anime convention, he'd burn. In my words, "You're like Roy versus a piece of toast. And you're the toast." He did escape unscathed . . . because stayed inside the convention hall half the time, the cheater-pants. =)

Burn, Baby, Burn

Gingerly, wincing every inch of the way, Roy eased his hands into the sink of icy cold water. It prickled across the angry red skin of his palms and fingertips, like he was pressing down on a bed of tiny nails. He hissed involuntarily as two fingers brushed the bottom of the sink, making the pain sharper.

". . . What happened?"

Looking back over his shoulder, he spotted Riza standing the doorway, watching him with a half-curious, half-exasperated expression. "Oh, hey. You're early."

"Maybe that's a good thing." Setting her shoulder bag on the floor, she crossed the room toward him, leaning over the sink to see the problem. "You're having some difficulty with the research material?"

"Some," he admitted, looking back at his hands. "It's . . . a little more volatile than I would have thought."

"Exactly why Father wanted to be careful who learned it," Riza answered solemnly. Her brown eyes glanced toward him in a reproving look. "And you can't say I didn't warn you this might happen. If you play with fire, you get burned."

"Who's playing?" he shot back. The words were barely out of his mouth before he felt guilty for the bite in his tone. Riza looked away, down into the sink of water. ". . . . Sorry. That was –"

"It's fine," she said, cutting him off as she turned away. "I've trusted you this far; I should trust that you can learn from this and move on."

He watched as she went to one of the cupboards and opened it, reaching inside. ". . . . What are you doing?"

Taking a box of teabags from a shelf, Riza selected one, then moved to the next cupboard along. "I'm going to help you. If you want to get back to work, you're going to need to speed up the healing process, and minimize discomfort along the way." Taking a bowl, she filled it with water from the sink, then dropped the teabag into it.

"How is cold tea going to help?"

Carefully picking up the teabag between her thumb and forefinger, Riza squeezed it gently, watching as pale brown liquid almost the colour of her eyes trickled out. "It will keep the skin from peeling, for one thing. And it takes away the burning feeling. Give me your hand."

Withdrawing one hand from the sink, he held it out to her. Wetting the bag once more, she dabbed it gently across the burns, leaving behind brown drops on the skin. The coolness felt much better than the cold of the water in the sink; Roy sighed once in satisfaction.

"I knew there was a reason I like having you around," he muttered, eyes closing in relief as the burning began to fade.

"And here I thought it was because of my looks, and not my usefulness or a history of being able to stand you," Riza answered in dry sarcasm. Taking his other hand from the sink, she repeated the procedure, wetting the teabag again every few minutes. The kitchen sank into silence as she worked, and Roy soaked up the attention.

His eyes opened as her fingers touched his chin, turning his face to one side. "Looks like you got your nose and forehead as well."

"What? Really?" He looked toward the nearest reflective surface - the window above the sink.

"It's either that, or you've recently become an alcoholic," she said, one hand turning him to look at her again. "Your nose in particular is bright red. Hold still."

He watched this time as she worked – watched those brown eyes focussing on him as gentle fingers dabbed soothing relief across his nose and cheekbones. Riza had an air of calm he hadn't seen for a long time; she had been tense when he visited Master Hawkeye after finishing at the military academy, quiet and drawn in the days leading up to and after the funeral . . . . He had wondered if she was holding it together at all, or simply moving mechanically, going through the motions of everyday life from muscle memory and instinct.

Roy knew now that she would be all right.

Brushing the teabag one final time across his forehead, Riza surveyed her handiwork. "It will have to be done again later, especially on your nose, but that should do for now." She gave him an admonishing look. "Of course, if you're more careful in the future, you won't have to worry about it at all."

"Okay, fine." He rolled his eyes. "I'll be more careful. Are you happy now?"

"Not really. You're just saying that to shut me up." She turned away to put the box of tea back on the shelf. "Knowing you, though, I suppose you'll learn your lesson sooner or later."

Seeing his chance, Roy stepped close behind her, bracing one hand either side of her on the counter as he leaned forward. "If this has taught me anything, it's two things." Her sideswept bangs tickled against his forehead as he spoke softly into her ear. "First, that you're right - playing with fire can get you burned. And second, I'm very lucky to have someone like you to look after me when I do."

"And if I wasn't here? What would you have done?"

"Stood with my hands in the sink for a couple hours, looking and feeling like an idiot." He was too close; her scent was starting to weave itself around him, drive him crazy. "Like I said, I'm very lucky to have someone so smart and beautiful to look after me when I screw up."

He was forced to lean back as Riza turned to face him, her expression giving nothing away. "You're awfully bold today, Mr. Mustang. Is this how a military officer acts?"

"An officer and a gentleman." He lifted an eyebrow. "Do you still want to go for dinner, or stay here?"

"The way your face looks right now? We can stay here; I don't mind." She half-smiled. "After all, someone has to look after you, and that includes making sure you eat properly."