Riza hadn't been to see a movie for ages, not since she was a little child, but she remembered them well enough. She had always been fond of the romantic stories featured, of the love shown between two people, even if they were just actors. She planned her future as any little girl did, dreaming of the day Prince Charming would come and sweep her off her feet. But she eventually grew tired of movies when she saw the realm of possibility opened up for her in books; she could travel to far away places, lose herself in fantasy worlds, with just the turn of a page rather than traveling all the way to the theatre. The stories in books lasted longer as well; a three-hundred-page novel lasted far longer than a simple two-hour movie.

But always did she return to romance. Her favourite kind would forever be that between two shy teenagers who thought each didn't like the other in that way, but when one made that first tentative, required, predictable move, they would realize just how mistaken they were. She would read those cheesy novels again and again, never tiring of them. As she matured, so did her choice in story; she moved from fairy tales to stories of teenage romance, to mild adult romance, then to full-fledged trashy sex novels. Those last ones she didn't read much of, mostly from fear of what her parents would say if they ever found out, but also partly from fear of the sensations the words gave her in her lower abdomen.

When she entered the military, things began to change. She found she had less and less time to read, but she realized she didn't mind so much; she had unearthed a new passion, a new form of romance, in her commanding officer, Roy Mustang. Oh, he was a piece of work alright (what man wasn't, if you thought about it?) but she continued to be there for him when he needed her, his living shield and bodyguard. Early on, when she had first met him during the Ishbal tragedy, she fantasized about him sweeping her off her feet just like the men in the movies and books. She dreamed of him secretly returning her feelings, but not knowing how to go about telling her. She dreamed about what their first kiss would feel like: would it be soft and chaste, or would it be hard, passionate, and commanding.

As she came to know his personality, his womanizing ways, she realized how mistaken she had been. If he liked her, he would have told her way before now, he was not shy like the boys and young men of the books. She listened as he bragged about his many dates, about Jennifer This, or Kelly-Anne That, never batting an eye, never showing her despair. She kept her cool and never let on that she might like him in any way other than professionally or perhaps as a friend.

After all, this wasn't the movies.

Men didn't come and sweep you off your feet.

People you had a crush on rarely returned that crush.

The world was just filled with heartache.

Nobody knew that she cried herself to sleep because she simply could not let go of him. God knows she tried, innumerable times, but she kept coming back to him, to his unintentional psychological abuse, like a moth to a flame.

And for now she would have to live with it; she could see no other way.

"Riza?"

"Yes sir?"

He moved closer to her. They were all alone in the office; everyone else had gone home hours ago, but they still had work to finish. His hand reached up to stroke her hair gently as she stared at him with complete and utter shock. "Rumours have been going around about you and I, did you know?"

"Yes, sir, I did know. There is even a bet going on about how long it will take us to get together."

"There have been other rumours as well, particularly among the females. They say that you've had a crush on me since the first time we met."

"Well, women do like to gossip, and if they have nothing real to talk about, they will just make it up."

"Some how I don't think this was made up." His voice was growing steadily huskier, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Would you still deny that the gossip is true if I told you I felt the same way for you?"

Her knees wobbled and it was all she could do to shake her head slowly, gently, wordlessly.

"I didn't think so." He captured her lips with his.

Yeah, right. Movies so did not reflect real life.

But then again…..

What the hell is this, you ask? I have no clue either. It just came to me. Commentary on romance fanfictions/movies/books, maybe? Commentary on life in general, maybe? Written in about twenty minutes, so I have no idea how good it is. Also, I did something different this time: I wrote it straight out onto the computer, which means I didn't have a chance to write it out on notebook paper first, then proofread it as I typed it, and there is no way I am going to go back and re-read this. So there may be some repetitive diction, particularly in the first part.

In case you didn't get it, the part in italics is supposed to be a bit ambiguous. It's up to the reader to decide whether or not it was just Riza's fantasy, or if it really happened. That's what the last two lines are about. Did it happen, or did it not? You decide. Don't ask me. Yeah, I'm into ambiguity lately. I don't really know why…

Disclaimer: I don't own. If I did, Hughes would not have died, Barry would not have died, and Roy and Riza, and Edward and Winry would have gotten together long before now.

Oh yeah, and if you want to see it (or if you have already seen it and are wondering where it is), I have posted the 101 ways to know you are obsessed with FMA in my profile page. got super pissed at me for posting it as a story, so I got banned for several days. Pissed me off…. But I'm a stubborn ass, so I had to post it somewhere.