Author's Notes: I really enjoyed this one. I had a fun time writing about Roy's childhood growing up in a bar, so I'll probably end up revisiting it and writing some more. I mean, can you imagine? The prompt was Roy/Riza + "Wanna dance?"

Disclaimer: I own nada.

Bar Music

The music playing on the record worked as the perfect background noise for Riza as she did her homework. She read through the textbook that her father had given her, taking down her own notes as she did so. Her sock-covered feet barely brushed the ground as she swayed them back and forth, hooked at the ankles. The music wasn't loud or overly bombastic, so it didn't distract her. Instead, it lulled her into a state of focus so that nothing but the book in front of her and the notes mattered.

Of course it had the complete opposite effect on Roy. He sat at the other side of the table, trying to figure out the proper transmutation circle that wouldn't blow him up, but his mind kept drifting towards to the melody. It reminded him a lot of the kind of music that Aunt Chris played at the bar. He spent a lot of his childhood sitting upstairs, the muffled music seeping through the floorboards and walls. After closing time and he was legally allowed to come downstairs, he'd watch as his "sisters" danced about to the music and sang, sometimes dragging him in. His aunt paid him whenever he helped clean and his sisters always said it was more fun to do while singing and dancing.

This wasn't one of those upbeat songs that they would play while cleaning, but more like one of the songs they played around midnight. The bar would be dimly lit, the smoke from cigars and his aunt's cigarettes permeating the air, the smell of whiskey and beer mixing with cologne and perfume. There would be murmured words and laughter, glasses clinking together, liquid being poured behind the bar by either his aunt or Caroline, her preferred bartender. And then there would be the music, melodious and magical, a smoky voice filled of promises and temptation. Sometimes Ellie would sing along, the lyrics beckoning on her tongue, and the girls would dance with customers. Pockets were emptied and filled. Kisses were stolen. Information was exchanged.

Roy spent the first few years of his life with Madam Christmas being shielded from that part of her business. After all, he was only a kid. He was allowed in the bar during the day when nothing sordid happened, even becoming some kind of staple. Men would come in after work and hang up their coats and put their hats on his head as he ran about the barstools. Women cooed at him when he spoke a bit of poetry that he memorized from textbooks. And then at night he would be shuffled upstairs or one of his sisters who wasn't working would take him somewhere.

At sixteen, he wasn't so naive anymore. He more or less knew what kind of business his aunt ran and what his sisters did for a living, but he was also privy to the knowledge that it was something more. He liked knowing that the girls were more than what they appeared and that the men that thought to use them were being used themselves most of the time. It amused him to remember how shocked his schoolteacher was when a nine year-old Roy had told the entire class that his foster mother was a madam. Even Riza had blushed to her roots when he'd explained it to her when she was thirteen after she'd asked.

But she wasn't just a madam. She was more, the girls were more, and the music playing in the library now reminded him of that. It made him think of the secret winks Leane would give him when she noticed him paying attention to the papers being slipped into her pocket, of Caroline passing him a ginger ale so that he could sit and pretend that he was one of the grown ups, of Zoey's melodramatic antics that helped someone slip out of the bar unnoticed. It helped him remember all the times Ellie would put the broom aside and teach him how to dance because "one day, you're going to want to impress a girl," as his sisters watched fondly and his aunt in amusement.

It made him wish that Riza hadn't had such a lonely life. His parents had been taken away from him, sure, and he didn't remember them very well anymore, but he'd been brought into such a bright and vibrant family. It did not lack for warmth or love or noise, not as hers had. He sought to bring some sort of liveliness to her world - and she assured him that he had succeeded with the way she smiled brightly at him and laughed without abandon sometimes - but it wasn't enough for him. He couldn't explain the feeling he got whenever she smiled at him or blushed, except that it reminded him of those nights with his sisters, warm and comforting and full of life.

Setting the pencil down, Roy closed the book and stood up from the table. Riza didn't even seem to notice him, so absorbed in her book as she was. It wasn't until he started to walk around the room, like he was in some sort of daze, that she straightened up in her seat and peered at him curiously. At first, he didn't look back at her, pretending as if he didn't notice her watching him, but then he turned towards her sharply, one hand held behind his back and the other in front of him, and bowed towards her.

"Wanna dance?"

Riza blushed a little. "We're supposed to be studying. Isn't my father testing you tomorrow?"

"Yes, but I need a break and I've found that dancing often helps me," Roy pointed out as he stood up straight. "It helps me clear my mind so that I can focus again."

"I…" Riza looked down at her notes. "I don't really know how to dance."

Roy shrugged his shoulders. "I don't either, just what my sisters taught me." He held out a hand towards her and grinned. "C'mon, one dance - this is too good a song to waste."

Looking at his hand like it might bite her, Riza seemed even more hesitant than before. They had grown very close over the years, even more so in the past year. Roy wasn't stupid to miss the changes that had started to occur between them. His sister Caroline, the oldest of the girls that worked for his aunt, assured him that it was natural, but that still didn't mean it scared him. His heart had never jumped into his throat before when their hands brushed together on accident as they walked back from town. She hadn't always been the first person he rushed to tell or show whenever he figured out something new. When had he started to want her closer to him and simultaneously being afraid of it?

But when she finally took his hand, Roy's heart started to race and he struggled to breathe. She wasn't physical with anyone and very rarely let anyone touch her, even her father, but she seemed…comfortable with him. As she stepped up in front of him, there was a shy smile on her face, her cheeks still tinged pink, a strand of her blonde hair in her face, and Roy found himself distracted and unable to concentrate on the music.

"Um, are we going to dance?" Riza asked him.

"Right, er, of course," Roy stammered, tearing his eyes away from her. Closing them for a second, he listened to the music until he got the hang of the melody. He was sure that he'd heard this song a few times at the bar before. He moved her other hand to his shoulder and put his free hand on her hip. She stiffened underneath his touch, but then relaxed when he opened this eyes to look down at her somewhat anxiously. "Just follow my lead. You'll probably trip over my feet a few times, but that's on me. I'm not entirely graceful either."

Riza nodded her head. "As long as you don't go spinning me, I should be okay."

"Where's the fun in that?" Roy laughed as they slowly started to dance.

One dance turned into another and the two found themselves spinning around the library. It wasn't filled with the delicate grace that his sister Ellie had and they tripped over one another every now and then, Riza falling into his chest and him stepping in her way, but they held onto each other close as they danced. They laughed and spoke and even sang along to some of the songs. Roy rather thought Riza looked like a princess as she danced with him. Their cheeks were both flushed and cheeks sore from smiling, but neither one of them seemed to care.

They didn't go back to their studies for nearly an hour.