Riza Hawkeye-Mustang stepped into the foyer, turned on the lamp next to the end table, and sat down on the couch with a small sigh. At age forty-five, her hands were still steady and her eyesight just as sharp, but long work days were beginning to take their toll. She turned on the radio next to the couch and sat back with her eyes closed.

"...With President Mustang's second term coming to a close next year, new candidates are already lobbying for the position—"

"What are you listening to?"

Riza opened her eyes. Roy stood in the doorway to the foyer, one eyebrow arched and a rather disgruntled frown on his face. "The news," she said, reaching over to turn down the volume. "Speculation on who will run for president after your term is up."

"Hm," Roy grunted. He crossed the room, threw himself down on the couch next to Riza, and reached over her to switch the radio off. "They're all idiots."

"There's still more than a year until the election," Riza said. "Maybe someone better will announce their candidacy."

Roy only continued to frown. Riza smiled at him.

"You're thinking that you are a better president than any of them would be."

"I—"

"And you are," Riza continued over him. "None of them will be as good of a president as you. But you're the one who made this country a democracy. You established the five-year term length and the two-term limit. So in a year it will be time to honor your own laws and step down from the leadership of Amestris."

"Ah…" Roy sighed. "You're right, of course." He put an arm around Riza's shoulders. "I am better than any of them." She leaned her head against his shoulder and he rested his cheek on her forehead, but his eyes were still on the radio next to her.

"You know," he said into Riza's bangs. "You could run for president."

Riza laughed.

"I'm serious!" he said, lifting his head. "You'd be a great president."

"No I wouldn't." Riza tilted her head to look at him. "I'm not a leader. That was never my strength. My role has always been your enforcer, protector, and occasionally your conscience." She smiled briefly. "You're the chessmaster, I'm the queen piece. Isn't that how you explained it once?"

"I may have, yes," Roy chuckled. He wrapped his other arm around her shoulders. "We could still do that, though, you know," he said, his voice light but his eyes narrowed as he gazed at the radio. "Even if you had the official title of president instead of me."

Riza went still in his arms. She pulled away from him and sat up straight, her eyes narrowed in a frown as she regarded him.

"You're asking me to be your puppet president," she said quietly. "So you don't have to give up power."

Roy frowned too, an affronted expression on his face. "Well, when you put it that way—"

"Roy," she said seriously. "Even when we were in the army together, I never obeyed an improper order of yours. And, either as a colonel to a lieutenant, as a president to a civilian, or as a husband to a wife, it was improper of you to ask that of me."

They glared at each other, side-by-side on the couch, close but not touching. Roy looked from her serious brown eyes to the radio behind her, then back to Riza.

"Ahh…I hate it when you make that face," he sighed finally.

Riza exhaled and dropped her head, her long hair brushing Roy's arm as it slid down her shoulders.

Roy dropped his head too. He glanced down at his hands, then back up at Riza. "I'm sorry."

"I wish you could be president again," Riza said softly. "I do. This country could still use you, Roy. But to have your wife run for president so you can stay in power…" she looked at him. "We cannot set such a precedent."

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, then dropped his chin to his hands. "I know."

She looked at him for a moment, then reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "I want our daughter to be proud that she was named for the country of Amestris."

Roy glanced at her, a wry grin on his face. "I thought we named her Amy because I cried when she was born?"

"Ah, so you finally admit it."

"I do not! That's what you said, because you thought I was crying. But it was raining!"

"In the delivery room?"
"Yes! That's why we named her 'Amy!' For ame, 'rain', and for 'Amestris!'" *

Riza rolled her eyes. "Oh, okay—"

Roy turned around and threw his arms around Riza. "Insubordination!"

"Ah!" she cried, writhing in his arms as he kissed her neck. "Roy!"

He laughed but relented, and settled back into the couch beside her. Both their cheeks were slightly pink as they glanced at each other and smiled. Roy sighed, his arm resting once again around Riza's shoulders.

"Maybe Amy will run for president one day," Riza said.

"Maybe," Roy said fondly. But he suddenly frowned. "Not if she stays friendly with that Elric boy—Fullmetal's son—That would ruin her political career."

Riza laughed quietly. "Oh—Maybe Edward Elric could be the next president of Amestris."

"No!" Roy protested. "What? No! How could you say that?"

"You're right," she smiled, and leaned against Roy's chest. "I wouldn't vote for Edward, either."

"Hm," Roy frowned, gripping Riza's shoulder. "There's no way I could stay in retirement if any Elric was in government."

"Unless that Elric's first name was Amy, of course."

Roy gripped the bridge of his nose with his free hand and grimaced. "Why do you feel the need to make statements like this?"

Riza smirked in a manner not unlike Roy's himself. "If not Elric, then Rebecca and Havoc do have two sons…"

"I don't want to think about my daughter and—"

"Or the Armstrong boy—?"

"Oh my God…"

* 'Ame' means 'rain' in Japanese.