He was somewhat glad it was someone he had invited into his home of his own choosing, but when he saw the looks they gave each other for the first time, he almost revoked his invitation.

He never planned to intervene; he had lost that right a long time ago. Still, this didn't mean that he couldn't keep an eye on his daughter. At the moment, he found himself in a bar and in front of the only other person who might know about the two.

"Your boy is with my daughter."

His voice was different than it usually was and the woman behind the counter had to look up before recognizing him.

"What are you planning?" She placed a drink in front of him and leaned on the counter.

"Nothing. I thought you might know something about this," he said. At this, she raised an eyebrow.

"I don't. That boy can make decisions for himself; he's too old to be telling me about these things." He looked as if he was expecting more, so she continued. "But, he's brought her here a couple of times." He had never looked so much more like a father than he did now, and she laughed as his face fell into a deeper frown. When he opened his mouth to speak, she interrupted him. "Don't worry; they just sit and talk. The back is off-limits, of course. He knows that."

"Tell me more."

She sighed. There was no use arguing with a father, especially one so stubborn. Really, she just felt sorry for the man. "There's no need to worry. He respects you too much to try anything," she refilled his glass, "and he wouldn't harm a fly. If you don't mind me asking, why the sudden interest in your Riza's private life?"

"Don't misunderstand. I have no interest in her private life, but I was once that boy's age. I can only imagine what he's thinking." He brought his hand to his forehead and rubbed furiously as he recalled his own past, one involving a girl similar to Riza. Though he respected and cared for her, his thoughts about her were often far from innocent. For the first time in his life, he felt some sympathy towards his wife's father.

The woman laughed again. She had been around during that time as well, and she knew that he was in a very familiar situation.

"She barely resembles me; her voice, her gestures, everything is her mother's. I guess we are similar when it comes to women."

"You see, you can't really blame the boy. I remember all the stories I heard, when the two of you were alone. You sure know how to make a girl blush," she laughed. She continued as his face grew panicked. He pushed his glass across the counter and stood up.

"Please keep an eye on her. He's an alchemist, he might do something stupid. If something happens to her, I mean." She gave him a look and he answered with words, lifting his hand and nodding in her direction. "They're alone right now. I should have left earlier. Goodbye, Chris."

He left in somewhat of a hurry, walking into several men and women on his way out.

Meanwhile, at home, Riza Hawkeye sat on the couch, resting her head on Roy Mustang's shoulder. The two were reading a book together. Roy closed the book and pulled it away from them.

"…Do you think he'll be back soon? He didn't say when he'd come back, did he?"

"He didn't." She pulled the book back to its previous position and started reading again.

"That's it?" He was expecting a real answer, but that was all he got. He picked her head up off his shoulder gently and put their book down. Riza crossed her arms and moved away from him, a frown settling on her face. "How long is he out, usually?"

"I don't know." Roy stood up. Riza moved her arms to her side and moved to stand, but stopped when Roy spoke.

"I'm going to my room. I don't want to take any chances with my teacher."

"Roy, you really don't have to worry about it."

"I do, there's a lot at stake here. You should be more careful, too. If he finds us like this on the sofa, I don't know what would happen to me."

"Nothing will happen, just sit down; I want to finish the book. We'll finish before he gets home and he won't know." She patted the space next to her and he complied. The two assumed their positions and Roy held the book open. He pulled the book closer to his face after a few seconds.

"You know, you shouldn't strain your eyes like that," Riza said, then moved her face closer to his so she could see the book.

"It's easier to see this way."

The two continued until Riza fell asleep, still on Roy's shoulder. Roy joined her after telling himself he would wait to finish reading with her.

Riza's father walked into the house not long after.

The house was quiet, but it was still too early for either of them to be asleep. He walked into the living room and stopped as soon as he saw them. His daughter was asleep, as was the boy, both leaning on the other. It was a sight he could have lived without, he decided. He watched them for several minutes, not really thinking about anything. There was nothing particularly incriminating about their position, and the book on the boy's lap was reassuring.

He moved only when his daughter pushed closer to Roy, still asleep. He looked around as if someone were watching him and backed out of the room. He walked up to his study and threw the door shut.

"…What was that? Riza, wake up." Roy nudged her as he moved his head away from hers. "Riza, I think your father is home. Riza, wake up!"

Riza blinked her eyes a few time before opening them completely, then looked at Roy. "He's home? Are you sure?"

"There was a sound just now; I think it was the door. We should…"

"Yes, we shouldn't stay here," she said. "Well, I'll go to bed now, I suppose. Did you finish the book?"

"No, I, uh, I thought we'd finish it together." Riza looked pleased and Roy helped her stand up.

"That's sweet. Perhaps tomorrow, if my father goes out again," she whispered, as if reading was such a terrible thing to do, "or in my room if he doesn't. I would like to finish the book soon." She put her hand on his arm and held it there for a moment until Roy nodded. He had never been to her room before and his face spoke to that, red beyond recognition. Riza walked to her room first and Roy waited a few minutes before going up.

He was stopped as he walked past his teacher's study.

"Boy, come here."

Roy's life flashed before his eyes and he considered running back home. Alas, it was too late. Instead, he fixed his posture and turned to face his teacher. "Yes, Mister Hawkeye."

"…Your work is all wrong; you'll have to redo all of it."

"What? Mister Hawkeye, that work took weeks – no, months of research! I looked it over for more than a week! There's no way it's all wr– "

"That is a shame. However, if this is not redone, I'm afraid you will have to find someone else to help you."

"…Right. I'm sorry, I'll correct it all as soon as possible. I'm sorry, Mister Hawkeye."

Hawkeye turned and closed the door behind him gently. Roy dropped his shoulders immediately and continued back to his room, this time considerably less excited to get there. It seemed highly unlikely that this work, dated weeks back, was all wrong, but arguing would only get him sent back home. He sighed and dropped on his bed, getting a head start on his revisions. It was a shame, but he didn't think he would finish that book anytime soon.