A/N: Happy Monday, everyone, and whatever holiday you are celebrating, I wish you the very best one possible. You have all been so wonderful to me with your readership, your reviews, your messages, and the best gift I can think to give you all is a new holiday fic! Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa, or anything else. With love ve, from me.
Also, I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes in this; I was up until one a.m. finishing this and though I have proofread it, I've got a sneaking suspicion there's one or two things that slipped through. Bear with me. ;)
I do not own FMA.
A Murder Most Festive
Chapter One
A light snow fell across Central City, eddying with the winter breeze in the golden glow of the streetlamps. It coated the half-completed reconstruction of Central Command, turning the scaffolding and exposed wooden framing white, and blending in with the pale stone walls.
Light flooded from the windows of the Presidential Residence; the majestic house had escaped the destruction wrought by Father with only easily-cleaned singeing of its bricks.
Waiting on the front porch, his hands in the pockets of his coat for warmth, Roy felt no less uneasy. Until very recently, this magnificent building had held one of the most dangerous men in the country, and for him, there were still traces of Bradley's power present. Some dark essence of the man that had seeped into the very foundation and would take time – and maybe an exorcism – to eliminate.
He dropped that particular train of thought, his attention fixing on the black sedan that approached. He glanced at his watch. Right on time….
Moving down the steps, out from under the cover of the porch, he waited until the car stopped before reaching out to open the rear passenger door. He smiled, offering a hand to the woman inside. "Perfect timing; I'm glad you were able to join us this evening."
Giving a small, reserved smile, Mrs. Bradley accepted his hand out of the car. "I appreciate the invitation. Though I have to say I was surprised; given the events in the spring and my connection with them, I hadn't expected anything."
The years as a politician's wife had left the woman very skilled in concealing her point under casual conversation. When she had demanded an explanation of Selim's altered body, Riza had been left with no choice but to tell all, including who King Bradley had really been.* After that, the woman had been smart enough to figure out that her late husband had lived a lie with her, and somehow, miraculously, she had understood that he had had to be removed from power.
She released him and he turned to the car's other occupant, handing Riza formally out into the snowy night. He was careful to keep his gaze strictly on her face, rather than let it go wandering over the soft grey of her fitted winter coat. "Good evening, Lieutenant. I appreciate you taking the time to escort our former First Lady. I knew her security was assured with you."
Riza nodded in acknowledgement, her smile polite. "Thank you, sir. Mrs. Bradley is certainly one of the most congenial people I've ever had the distinction to guard."
Closing the door, Roy stepped forward, offering one arm to the older woman. "Well, no sense standing around out here in the cold. Shall we?"
He led Mrs. Bradley inside, Riza trailing behind, into the warmth and light of the residence's grand foyer. The chandelier glittered overhead, sending barely noticeable reflections over the walls and staircase. Garlands of cedar ranged the banisters and two huge wreaths hung on the walls either side of the door over the heads of a set of four well-dressed men. They stood at intervals along the hall, unobtrusive yet clearly security.
Standing in the centre of the room, just shaking the hands of the couple currently heading toward the ballroom, was a beaming Grumman.
"Ah! Just when I started to worry you wouldn't be coming after all!" He shook hands firmly with Roy before taking Mrs. Bradley's hand and bowing low over it. "My dear, it's a pleasure, as always. I was so glad to see you had said you would be coming; it's not a party without beautiful ladies in attendance."
Riza saw the slight pain in the woman's smile, but it was quickly masked by graciousness and a murmured 'thank you'. It had to be hard, being welcomed to a party in the house where she had lived herself, and which had been so unceremoniously yanked out out from under her.
She didn't have much time to dwell on that as Grumman came toward her, his arms outstretched. "And here's another lovely lady!" Grasping her shoulders lightly, he kissed her swiftly on both cheeks, the bristles of his moustache tickling as he did so. "Welcome, my dear, welcome!" He raised a finger in front of her nose, lowering his voice. "Make sure you check for your gift. You'll find it in the branches of the Solstice tree in the main ballroom."
Riza wondered briefly if anyone would be fooled into thinking that the blush rising in her cheeks was from the coarse moustache against her face. "You didn't have to –"
"But I did." He eased her toward the others. "Now, go on, all of you! You came here to eat, drink, and be merry, so get on with it already!"
At the entrance into the grand ballroom, a waiting attendant took their heavy winter coats. Mrs. Bradley disengaged herself from Roy's arm, patting it gently. "I'm sure you have plenty of circulating to do," she said, smiling, "and I've had more than my fill of standing by during political shop talk. Why don't you or the Lieutenant find me when you're ready to leave?"
Before he could say anything, she smiled and eased off into the throng of people filling the room. They stood at bar-height tables around the dance floor where several couples twirled and swayed to the music provided by a small band in one corner.
Riza moved up to a spot just behind Roy's right shoulder. "Shall we, sir?"
"One stop-off, first," he answered, before tucking his hands into his pockets and starting toward the bar at one side of the room. "I'm not tackling power-play schmoozing without a drink in me."
She followed him, smiling to herself, as far as an empty table, where she waited. She watched him move through the people until the majority of him was hidden, then let her gaze sweep the room.
Most faces were unfamiliar to her, but here and there, she spotted ones she knew. General Hakuro and his wife, Major Armstrong trailing his eldest sister, Havoc, Rebecca, and Breda staying close together as they moved through the crowd, Falman standing near a watchful Major Miles and looking like he felt out of place, and Fuery just arriving. The Elrics, she remembered, had been invited but with Alphonse still slowly regaining strength, they had opted to stay home.
Good thing, too, she mused. They haven't had a true home for years. Better that they take all the time they can to enjoy it.
Roy appeared at her elbow, carrying two drinks: a tumbler of whisky for himself and a glass of white wine for her. She watched his eyes roam the length of her in less than a second, taking in the gold-shot dark red sheath dress with its Xingese-style collar, cap sleeves, chiffon overlay on the skirt and the slit that extended up the side as far as mid-thigh.
He leaned close, his voice a dangerous sexual purr. "I don't think I've had the chance to tell you how incredible you look," he said, his eyes roving the room as hers had done. "If I'm going to have to keep myself in check all evening, at least assure me that I'll be rewarded for it?"
She glanced at him sidelong, smiling with faint slyness. "Only if you'll promise me the same," she answered casually, taking her wine glass. "You know I can't resist a man in a good suit."
The evening was still young, barely nine o'clock, when the band paused in its repertoire and Grumman stood forward.
"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!" A hush fell over the gathering, and the old man beamed. "Thank you. First of all, let me say what a pleasure it is to have you all here this evening. It has been an eventful year, and I can think of no greater way to celebrate my first Solstice as Führer-President than by with all of you."
He paused, and there was a short smattering of polite applause. "Second, I would like to remind you that this is a party. The lights are up, the dance floor is clear -" Here, he raised his glass of sherry. "-and the bar is open!"
He raised the glass higher in a toast as laughter rippled from the crowd. "Happy Solstice, everyone!"
"Happy Solstice!" the echo came back, followed by much clinking of glasses and several people downing the last of their drinks before starting toward the bar for refills.
Grumman stood still a moment, searching the crowd, then started to where Roy and Riza stood. Roy had started a second drink, feeling a little more braced against an evening full of small talk and nice-making, Riza still nursing her first. He smiled, though not as strongly as before.
"I hate to taint the festivities with business," he said, lowering his voice as he stopped in front of them, "but I wouldn't do it without necessity." His gaze went to Roy. "If you could meet me in the library in half an hour, I have some last-minute paperwork regarding the work in Ishval that requires your signature."
Roy frowned, puzzled. "We weren't expecting anything new, were we?"
"No, but that's the way it goes in this game," Grumman sighed fatalistically. "Something always comes up." Recovering his good humour, he patted the younger man on the shoulder as he passed. "But it doesn't have to be right this minute. Half an hour!"
Watching him go, Roy felt himself grimace automatically. "He's right on one point," he said, almost under his breath. "Something always comes up. It's never just a nice night out at a party."
"It's ten minutes of reading over whatever paperwork they've come up with and signing your name to it," Riza said soothingly. "Ten minutes out of three hours or so doesn't amount to much; it doesn't have to ruin your evening." She nodded toward the huge double doors at one side of the ballroom that led deeper into the residence. "And besides, I doubt you're the only one that has business to take care of tonight."
"True…."
"He's not," a deep voice rumbled from beside them. Alex Louis Armstrong had stopped, his hands folded behind his back, looking almost close to normal in a conservative dark suit, white shirt, and pink bowtie. "He asked to see me in fifteen minutes regarding a case for the Investigations Office."
Roy grinned. "Next thing, he'll want a report from your sister on how many Drachman spies her garrison has caught in the last six months."
"Knowing her, she would be able to tell you the exact number from memory." Armstrong looked around, frowning slightly. "Though I haven't seen her for a while…." The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Perhaps she's already being forced to make that report."
"That would be a shame," Riza commented casually. "I was hoping for a chance to chat and catch up. She likely has some information on a certain shared contact that I was hoping she would pass on to us."
Armstrong no doubt understood the veiled reference to Scar, but said nothing. "Unfortunately, my dear sister isn't in much of a chatting mood," he said, smile disappearing. "Our mother quite literally forced her into wearing a dress this evening and Olivier is not…." He hesitated. "How shall I put this…. She continues to be… resistant."
Smothering an amused smile, Riza nodded. "I can't say I blame her entirely," she said, before casting a look at Roy. "Just another one of the irritating little necessities that surround gatherings like this…."
Roy lifted a curious eyebrow. "I'm still wondering how your mother managed to 'force' the Major-General into a dress."
Armstrong's smile returned, this time looking slightly knowing. "I say 'forced,' but I really mean that they compromised. Olivier agreed to wear a dress, but only on the grounds that she also be allowed to wear her sword."
The Major departed a few minutes later for his appointment with Grumman, leaving Colonel and Lieutenant briefly alone.
"Have you checked for that gift he mentioned?" Roy asked, eyes straying toward the huge Solstice tree, covered in glittering lights and silver ornaments at one end of the ballroom.
Riza shifted, her expression distinctly uncomfortable "Not yet…. To tell the truth, the idea of him giving me something makes me…. It doesn't sit well, for whatever reason."
"He's reaching out." Putting a hand on her lower back, he gently nudged her forward. "Give him a chance."
They wove their way through the crowd toward the tree, spending another minute searching among the branches before Riza pulled a plain white envelope from a spot recessed among the needles. Her name was written on the front in Grumman's sprawling hand. She passed her wine glass to Roy before taking hold of one corner, preparing to tear the end open.
"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!"
Armstrong's voice boomed easily over the murmur of conversation and soft music. Heads turned, and the band ground to a disjointed halt as the burly man soberly surveyed the room. Roy felt himself tense as security guards began filing into the room.
"Pardon the interruption, but an incident has occurred that requires the entire residence to be locked down: no one in or out. Your cooperation is expected and appreciated."
His searching eyes found Roy and Riza, and his expression became even more grim. "Colonel; Lieutenant. I'll need you to come with me."
*See Snap Shots #187