Content
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Disclaimer: Crys doesn't own FMA. ...I've run out of good disclaimers. You steal I will reduce you to Edward's height. If you're not as tall as he is...then I'll reduce you to half his height. HAH!
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Riza Hawkeye closed the small book she had been reading and held it at arm's length, examining its black, leather-bound cover and faded gold printing. It had been her father's favorite novel, 106 Ways of the Able Gunman. She had decided to take it out for a bit of light reading every night. Placing it on the table, she turned her attention to the prim, evergreen couch across the room. On any normal day, she would have been home by now with Black Hayate trotting around her feet as she got ready for bed.
This, however, was not a normal day. The day had started with a blonde firework bursting into Colonel Roy Mustang's office, demanding to know why something or other was being restricted to him. The Colonel replied that if anything was being restricted, it was his height. The two traded insults for about a quarter of an hour, which Hawkeye began to tune out during the first three minutes or so. Finally, the blonde alchemist got fed up and stomped out of the office with his brother, who mumbled hasty apologies, in tow.
Mustang allowed himself a loud, full laugh after he was sure that Edward was out of ear-shot. It echoed, bouncing off of the walls. Even though you couldn't tell by just looking at him, Riza knew her superior well enough to know that there was nearly always something troubling his mind. It was nice when they could enjoy a moment where the military was not involved.
Both their happiness was short-lived, however, when a large stack of paperwork miraculously appeared on his desk. "Lieutenant!" He barked.
"Yessir!"
His tone became almost, she suspected, whining. "Help me with this paperwork."
"Yes, sir."
Filling out the millions upon millions of forms took them well into the evening. At one point, the Flame Alchemist was incredibly tempted to burn the whole stack with a snap of his gloved fingers, but was stayed by the words of his lieutenant, who did her work steadily, diligently, patiently. By the time the moon had risen, her pile of completed forms stood a lot taller than his.
The next time she looked up, he was no longer at his desk, but rather, stretched out on the loveseat with his black raincoat slung over him in a motley fashion.
"Tai-san…we haven't finished all the paperwork yet." He waved a hand lazily in protest as he turned his torso away from her.
"I'll finish it tomorrow…" he mumbled before dropping off to sleep.
That left her in the very difficult position she was in now. Riza glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to two. The completed paperwork stood stacked neatly on the polished surface of the desk. She had taken it upon herself to finish the work all by her lonesome and it had taken her two hours more. But finally, she was done and about to go home when a stray thought struck her.
Surely, she couldn't leave the Colonel alone. It was January, and the wing his office was located in didn't receive heating overnight. The lieutenant shivered. He would freeze to death before morning. Besides, she told herself, he never gave you permission to leave.
She was content to stay and keep him company for the night. Pulling out a book, she placed herself in a chair across from the loveseat and read by the concentrated light of a table light.
When she next awoke, it was by something licking her hand. Opening her eyes groggily, Riza turned her head to see Black Hayate looking up at her with that kind of honest adoration only dogs can muster up. She snuggled deeper into her covers, drawing the cream-colored bed sheets over her head before popping back up immediately with a gasp, efficiently startling Black Hayate.
She was supposed to be with the Colonel, in his office, at Headquarters! What was she doing alone, in bed, at home? She didn't remember how she got here…she didn't drink the night before, since there was no tell-tale headache and Riza never did drink. Yawning, the lieutenant allowed herself a moment to clear her head.
…Why did she smell coffee? Suddenly, her military instincts kicked in. Throwing the blanket off herself, she opened the drawer where she kept her spare arsenal and pulled out a handgun. Arming herself, she moved swiftly out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen.
There was no one there. Instead, a steaming cup of coffee sat on the counter and a note was tacked to the door. She recognized the messy, uneven scrawl.
Lieutenant-
Take the day off.
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Fin
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RoyRiza's are fun to write. That's er...pretty much all I have to say.
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