AN: This is my first fma fanfic so fingers crossed I don't make a fool of myself. Based on the manga because I have yet to see either anime. Set sometime after *potential spoiler?* Hughes's death, and before they face Lust. Please tell me if I got any of the details wrong! I'm told that two am is not actually a good time to write things (who knew) so it's very possible I slipped up and called Roy Colonel Mustard or something.

Roy Mustang rested his index finger against his temple and huffed with all the petulance of a toddler throwing a tantrum. Back studiously slouched, eyes rolling, legs far apart, and just enough ice in his tone; he was the perfect study of practiced indifference. Riza Hawkeye was having absolutely none of it.

"Go home, Lieutenant," he drawled.

"No sir."

"Your job ends when you leave the office, Lieutenant Hawkeye," he tried again. "This is my apartment."

Her mouth twitched with the faintest touch of a smile. "I don't work for Central. I work for you, Colonel."

His chest gave a particularly emphatic thump, stemming not so much from his heart as from his lungs. Like he had been breathing something heavier than oxygen and it had finally left. Or maybe he had only started breathing something lighter, something that was easier to swallow. He felt safer with her there. Weeks and weeks of running around from shadows he couldn't give a name to, of looking over his shoulder and daring the darkness to blink first, of baited breath and clenched muscles, and he felt safe with her there.

As if she guessed his thoughts (and of course she guessed his thoughts), a gentle hand snaked out to rest gingerly on his shoulder. His body betrayed him and he relaxed at the touch.

"Who was it that said we have to be a team now more than ever? That we have to look out for each other?"

He noted the change in her voice when she quoted him. It did not deepen, it strengthened, and his fingers twitched at the thought of her impression of him being resolute and confident. A low sound rumbled in his throat, a half-formed chuckle, or perhaps a groan. "Damn it, Hawkeye."

When she smiled, he knew they both knew that she had won. Neither of them would rest easily knowing the other could be in trouble and they could not help. And besides, it would not be the first time she stayed the night.

Riza leaned down to where he was sitting and kissed his forehead. Her face hovered near his, her forehead resting gently on the top of his head. He reached a hand up to cup her face and draw her to his level so that he could kiss her because─ damn it, if he couldn't send her away to the relative safety of her own home, he could at least pretend it was like any other night and she was staying simply to be with him, prepared to kiss rather than kill. Even so, he found himself cradling her face more gently than usual.

Normally their lips met like two magnets being pulled together, suddenly and surely, passionate if not precise. That night they were slow and deliberate. His thumb brushed against her cheek as he let her go. She held his gaze for a long, silent moment. Her cheeks were flushed but her eyes were clear. She gave him a small, curt smile, so formal it felt like a salute, and then she cleared her throat.

"I'll make some coffee," she said, and he shivered at the hoarse tremor in her voice. "There's some paperwork you should do before you sleep."

"You're killing me, Lieutenant," he groaned, but when she left the room, he grinned.

He understood. Between him filling it out and her keeping watch and refusing to let him be sidetracked, paperwork was the perfect distraction for both of them. It was perfunctory, and though it was frustrating, it would be nice to be frustrated over something he could control for a change.

Riza reentered the room within minutes, carrying herself like a soldier again. Her back was ramrod straight and her mouth pressed into a thin line, but the way she allowed her feet to drag let him know she was not all business. She dropped a stack of papers in front of him and slid a mug of coffee next to it. As he took out a pen and set to work, she took her usual seat in a chair across from his, a chair that only ever saw use when she visited. It might have been comforting for him to be able to look up and see her there, had she not taken to cleaning her gun while she waited for him to forget his fears long enough to fall asleep.

By the time he'd finished half the stack, they were both tired enough that when they fell into his bed, it took all their focus to find each other's lips in the darkness, all their strength to tug at each other's buttons, all their brainpower to will themselves into whispering each other's names like a promise in the night. When they closed their eyes, there was no energy left to waste on fear. Colonel Mustang fell asleep with his First Lieutenant pressed tightly against him, his face buried in her hair and his arm strewn across her hips. Even as he drifted off to a blessedly dreamless sleep, he knew from her breathing that she was still awake, and that her grip on his hand made him feel more grounded than he had in weeks.

Riza Hawkeye awoke with a jolt to the sound of heavy footsteps echoing in the hallway. Of course, to a well-trained soldier, awaking with a jolt involved less bolting upright in alarm and more stiffening, waiting, and strategizing before she allowed herself to move. Without opening her eyes, she flexed her hand to be sure the Colonel was still hanging onto it. She felt hot breath on her ear and knew he was at her side. On any other morning, it would be reassuring, but the footsteps were only getting louder and closer, and in her early morning haze, she could think of no one pleasant who would pay Colonel Mustang a visit, hours before work.

The floorboards creaked. Riza focused on controlling her breath and keeping her eyes from twitching beneath their lids. Pretending to be caught unaware could be an advantage; it provided the perfect opportunity to invert the element of surprise and leave her attacker on the wrong end of it. Careful not to wake the man beside her, she slid her hands slowly beneath the pillow, reaching to the side of the bed for her gun.

The doorknob at the entrance to Mustang's flat rattled for a moment before the door burst open with a groan and a shout of, "Colonel Mustang!"

Before the visitor even properly entered the room, Riza was in motion. She felt Roy stir beside her, mumbling her name in a thick, drowsy voice. "Get down," she hissed, her left arm already extended to push him back. In one fluid motion, she kicked her leg over and rolled so that she was straddling him, positioning her body to shield him as best as she could. In the same movement, her right arm came up in a perfect, unwavering line, pointing a gun towards the door at whoever had entered. Only when she completed her shift of position did it occur to her that someone who wanted to hurt the Colonel most likely would not stride in openly and announce his name, and by then, she was already face to face with a very surprised Jean Havoc.

The Colonel seemed to have processed the situation more quickly than Hawkeye or Havoc. At least, he was the first to find words as he let out a curt, "Shit."

Havoc looked halfway between a laughing fit and a heart attack. Surprisingly, he had been smoke free when he ran in, but he was quick to correct it. Still at gunpoint, he dug through his pockets and fished out a cigarette with noticeably shaking fingers. When it was safely lit and securely placed between his lips, he found the nerve to grin and breathe evenly again.

"Mind lowering your gun, Lieutenant?"

Riza noted that he spoke admirably evenly for a man at the wrong end of a gun's barrel, and in realizing it, the absurdity of the situation struck her. She slid neatly off and away from the Colonel, dropping her arm and sitting on the edge of the bed. Then, she let out a shaky breath, followed by one of the quiet scoffs she normally reserved as a response to Colonel Mustang's antics in the office. Though she still sat straight as a soldier, the tension left her back, and the pressure seeped out of the room all at once.

The laughter that had been threatening to tumble past Havoc's lips finally escaped, coming out warped by the obstruction of the cigarette, but warm and contagious. Colonel Mustang sat up in his bed, covering his mouth with his hand just long enough to regain his composure and swallow his grin. Beside him, Riza continued to shake her head in her quiet delight and relief.

"Did you need something, Havoc?" Mustang said.

"Huh?"

"Something seemed pretty important a minute ago when you were barreling into my home."

"Oh." Havoc's eyes sharpened as he snapped out of his amusement and regained professionalism. "I called Lieutenant Hawkeye's apartment like you asked, and when she didn't answer, I went to check on her," he paused to quirk an eyebrow at his commanding officer. "Obviously she wasn't there, so I got a little worried and came to report it to you."

Colonel Mustang opened his mouth to supply a comment, only for Riza to cut him off as she turned sharply to face him with a glare. "You ordered Second Lieutenant Havoc to keep track of me?"

Roy barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "I asked him to call you just to make sure nothing happened. Looking out for each other, remember?"

Riza mumbled something under her breath that sounded something like, "Honestly," spoken with enough ire to make clear what she meant was more along the lines of, "You idiot." She stood and crossed her arms, speaking this time directly to him. "And who did you assign to look out for you, sir?"

Behind her, Havoc gave a polite cough. Noticing the deliberate way he kept from looking at her, Riza remembered she'd fallen asleep the prior night in one of the oversized t-shirts Roy reserved for her on the nights she stayed over, and little else. Without missing a beat, she leaned down to scoop her uniform pants off the floor and retreated to the bathroom to get changed for work. She mumbled nothing more, but the look she gave her Colonel before disappearing behind the door was enough to convey everything she had not said and leave him shaking his head and smiling wryly.

Havoc watched the exchange with a fond roll of his eyes. "Well…See you in the office then, boss," he saluted making no comment on the intimacy of the situation he had wandered into. It made Roy equal parts curious and suspicious.

"Havoc," he called sternly. "Don't─"

His subordinate cut him off with a laugh. "I'm not dumb enough to say anything to anyone, Colonel. And besides," his grin widened, "it's hardly news."

With a curt wave of his hand, he left, shutting the door firmly behind him and leaving Roy alone to his thoughts and the sound of Riza running water in the bathroom. He sighed and slackened his muscles so that he fell back against his mattress with a flop. It did not occur to him until much later that it had been the first morning in weeks he had not woken in a cold sweat to an oppressively solemn and empty apartment. He never thought he would be so thankful for having such ridiculous subordinates, but god help him, he was.