1. Introduction

She had only been able to catch glimpses of him throughout the day. Not something that would necessarily surprise her in any case. As head of security for the whole event and for his personal well-being, she needed to be where she could coordinate with every single member of the security team. Even if it meant that she was far away from the side of the man she was protecting.

Because they had finally made it. After years and years of hard work, of setbacks and of tribulations, they had finally reached the end, and their goal. They had made Roy Mustang the Fuhrer of the country.

He had woken up that morning a General, and would go to bed the Fuhrer; Riza couldn't have been more proud about it. Not that she had had the opportunity to tell him that, what with all she had to coordinate for the day, not only for his safety, but for the soldiers standing guard and all of the civilians that would come to see their new leader being given his title. Foreign dignitaries had been extended invitations to attend, and while most had declined, those that came would require extra surveillance to ensure nothing happened while they were on foreign soil.

It went without saying that Riza Hawkeye was running on very few hours of sleep at this point. She was looking forward to when she would be able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time once this day was over.

But first she had to get their new Fuhrer to his new residence safely.

"Are you going to make me sit in the back of the car Captain?" He asked once she opened the door for him.

"That is the protocol sir," she answered, her voice cool and professional. Her rich brown eyes watched him as he shifted from one foot to the other, no doubt attempting to create an excuse to avoid protocol and sit in the front seat with her, like they had done when she had first come under his supervision.

"If you're done attempting to come up with an excuse, please get into the vehicle sir. I'm sure you would like to go home and relax for the rest of the evening." The corner of her lips twitched, betraying her amusement.

Roy sighed and climbed into the back of the car. Riza closed the door before climbing in the driver's seat. She started the car and pulled away from the remainder of the celebration. It was mostly enlisted men cleaning up after much of the party-goers migrated indoors to bars to continue the celebration.

Their drive was quiet. Perhaps it was the reality of what they were now tasked with doing was finally sinking in. That they had only achieved a stepping stone to their ultimate goal, and there would still be a tough road ahead of them. They weren't done yet.

Riza glanced back at Roy through the rearview mirror.

He was still the same as he was all those years ago when they had first met each other. The same untamable mop of inky black hair on his head, no matter how much product he used to slick it back. The same deep blue-black eyes that could look at things with wonder and amazement before becoming focused and determined. There was still same cocky smirk when he knew things were going his way, and the same soft smile that peeked out so rarely the public didn't realize that it existed. He was hardened, broken in ways that no man should ever have to be, but he was still the same Roy Mustang that had appeared on her porch all those years ago. The softness in his face now told her that.

He had been wearing that soft smile when he held his hand out to her then too.

She couldn't help but remember the day they had been introduced to the other. He had been standing on her porch, dripping water around his feet from the rain that was falling. When he had caught sight of her, he hastily attempted to fix his hair into something that had been presentable as he stuttered out his name. He failed, but Riza had been given an accurate glimpse of what living with the city-boy would be like.

"What are you smiling about, Hawkeye?"

Roy's voice broke through her recollections and she connected with his dark eyes in the mirror. With the soft unabashed affection he was watching her with, Riza felt the familiar flutter in her gut. She hoped that her face wouldn't give her away with the tinge of pink that would be impossible to hide. She turned her gaze back to the road without answering. They were nearly at his new residence.

She pulled in and parked in front of the home that was now his. Riza turned the vehicle off, but did not move to get out.

Roy leaned forward and took a lock of her short hair and tugged on it gently. Occasionally he found himself missing the long blonde hair that he could brush and run his fingers through, but the short hair provided him with a better opportunity to get even closer to her if he wanted to play with it. Which he found he almost liked better.

"What were you smiling about earlier?" He asked again.

His breath brushed the edge of her ear, and she repressed a shiver.

"I was thinking of the little boy who stood dripping wet on my porch who wanted to learn alchemy from my father when I was young. I was wondering how he would feel if he could see where he was now."

Riza watched Roy through the mirror. If she was expecting him to be embarrassed at the reminder of the time they had first met, he didn't say anything. The look on his face was contemplative. His fingertips continued to play with the short strands of her hair.

"I think, I think he would be satisfied at being able to have the opportunity to protect his entire country. The circumstances leading to this point however, would leave him disgusted and ashamed."

Roy heaved a sigh and rested his head against the top of the front seat. Gently, Riza reached up and ran her fingers through his slicked back hair. It lacked the softness that she normally associated with his hair, after many years of stroking it. All of the product he put in his hair that morning she assumed. She continued petting his hair anyway.

"You're still the same," she murmured.

Roy shifted. One dark eye peeked up to watch her face.

"Even in the midst of what should be one of your greatest achievements, you find a way to blame yourself and bring yourself down. Take the moment you've been given. Revel in it. Because tomorrow the hard work will really begin and there will be no turning back from this point on."

"Always a slave-driver aren't you, Lieutenant?"

Her fingers ceased their petting and she froze as soon as she heard her old rank slip from his lips. It had been many years since she held that rank in particular. She felt him stiffen as he realized what he had said. Riza drew her fingers away. Even in the privacy of the vehicle, it was still too dangerous for for such casual displays of affection.

Roy lifted his head from the seat and leaned back. His finger ran through his locks, messing them up even more than Riza's fingers had. He looked out the window and watched as a few of the guards stationed around his new domicile approached the vehicle, no doubt wondering what was taking the new Fuhrer so long.

He sighed. The moment was over. With one hand one the door handle, he went to open it but paused.

"Tell me one thing," he began. "What would that little girl say if she knew that the boy who dripped water all through her house on the night they met had made it this far?"

Riza smiled at looked at him through the rearview mirror again. The setting sun caught strands of his hair, illuminating them. His smile was the secret they shared.

"I'm sure she would be proud of what he had accomplished sir. And I'm sure she may have thought twice about hitting him in the face with the mop she used to clean the floors after him."

A short chuckle escaped from the back of his throat.

"Go home and get some sleep Captain. You deserve to rest as well. Don't think that I didn't notice you were running on fewer hours of sleep than you should be. I don't want to see those dark bags under your eyes the next time we're together, alright?"

"Yes, sir."

With that, he exited out of the vehicle and made his way to the other guards. Riza smiled as she watched him go. There was a lightness to his step that she hadn't seen for a long time. There was still a long process ahead of him, but she knew he would face it head-on and refuse to let anything stop him

Yes. He was just like that teenage boy who had stuttered through the introduction on her father's porch all those years ago. That was something to be proud of.

A/N: So this is the first in what should be 100 little fics based on a list of themes I've got. One down, ninety-nine to go. Please leave a review.