The early morning light crept in through Riza's bedroom window, pale and buttery as it spread out across the wrinkled sheets. Birds began to twitter sleepily outside of the window, interrupted only by the occasional motor car rumbling by in the snowy streets. Riza had been awake for a good half hour, her right arm growing numb and tingly from lying on it. She was afraid to move and wake the man lying beside her, afraid to have to make the awkward small talk of the morning after.

She couldn't think of what to say to Havoc when he would finally wake up. Should she offer him breakfast? Or would that be too weird? Would he want to walk to work with her? Would he want to use her shower? Would he want to talk, or just ignore everything?

Riza closed her eyes against the sunlight, her eyelids the color of orange flame against her eyeballs. The night had been a total disaster, a mistake due to a huge lack of judgment on her part. She had sat at the bar after work, waiting for Roy Mustang. They had arranged to meet there for a drink. It was the first time Roy had asked her to go anywhere that wasn't directly related to work. Caught off guard, she had stammered out a yes, her face flushing hot under his confident smirk. Her mouth twitched as she tried to fight off the urge to break into a grin, instead doing her best to appear only politely interested.

She had sat at the bar for an hour and half, sipping away at a dry martini. With each minute that ticked by, her heart sank a little further into the pit of her stomach. Idly, she traced the whorls in the wooden bar with her fingertips, growing sleepy and embarrassed by her own hopefulness.

She had stood up to leave just as Havoc came in, his hair out of place and his cheeks rosy from the biting winter wind outside. He struggled to close the door behind him, closing the cold out of the warm, stuffy bar. As his eyes met hers, he smiled in surprised delight. "Hawkeye! What are you doing here?" he said cheerfully, taking off his coat and laying it on a barstool. Hawkeye scowled.

"I was just leaving," she said shortly. She tried to stride briskly past him, but he reached out and gently grabbed hold of her forearm.

"Leaving? You don't look like you've had enough to drink to be leaving. I'll buy you a couple of drinks," he said, trying his best to be persuasive. Hawkeye's face remained stony and cold as she stared blankly into his kind, open face. "Come on," he continued with a smirk, "you're already here."

Riza sighed wearily and nodded heavily. "Sure, sure. But you're buying."

Riza rarely got drunk, inside electing to exert self-control over her drinking habits, the way she utilized self-control in every area of her life. But that night was different, the night Roy Mustang stood her up. She had poured back shot after shot while listening to Havoc tell stories of when he fought in the war. It got later and colder, and it was well below zero when they both stumbled out the door, Havoc winding his arm around Riza and pulling her close to him. Riza let him.

"I'll keep you warm," Havoc slurred, drunkenly but not without sincerity. Hawkeye allowed herself to smile coyly.

"Come back to my place," she whispered thickly, pulling at his coat lapel. Havoc gave her a crooked smile and responded by pressing his mouth against hers, parting her lips with his tongue. She let him kiss her deeply as she squeezed her eyes together, imagining that Roy had showed up and that she was with him, not his subordinate. For years, she had allowed herself only to imagine what life might be like with Roy. But imagining just wasn't enough to make it real.

Riza turned over finally and stared at Havoc's bare back, his face turned away from her. She couldn't tell if he was still asleep or was already awake and just waiting for her to get out of bed first. Riza flicked her eyes to the wall clock across the room, ticking away slowly. With a heavy sigh, Riza pulled her soft, naked body from underneath the covers and began to get ready for the workday.