Author's note: This was written on very little sleep halfway through marathoning FMA (Yes, I'm jumping on the wagon a couple years late. Forgive me.). Apologies for the cheese, poor quality, and the whole not-fitting-into-canon-storyline-at-all-ness. With that in mind, enjoy!

Mustang cleared his throat.

"Colonel!" The soldiers in the room stood and snapped to attention.

"I would like to have a word with Lieutenant Hawkeye." The men nodded and exited the room, closing the door behind them. Mustang gazed across the room and out the window.

"Colonel?" He didn't respond, so she tried again. "Colonel, you wished to speak with me?"

He looked over at the bed. He hesitated before he answered. "Yes."

"And?" Riza tried to push herself into a sitting position and gasped in pain. Mustang was at her side before he realized it, his hands extended as if he could help her somehow.

"Riza, you shouldn't—"

She waved him away and sat up fully, clutching her abdomen.

"I really don't think you're supposed to—"

"Colonel."

He flinched slightly at the use of his title, realizing that he'd just used her first name. Had he ever done that before? Strange, he mused.

"So?"

His mind was wandering an awful lot. Mustang cleared his throat in an attempt to center himself. He saw the chair beside her bed and seated himself in it. "Why did you do it?"

She blinked slowly. "Why?"

"Maybe why isn't the most important question. Perhaps I should be asking how you knew to be there. But I'd like to know why you ignored direct orders."

Her eyes narrowed. "With all due respect, sir, I thought that your safety was of the utmost importance. I disobeyed to save your life."

Mustang shook his head. "You shouldn't have been there. There's no way that you should have known about—"

"Are you honestly upset that I stepped in? Perhaps you are not viewing the circumstances clearly. If I had not interfered, you would be dead, Colonel."

Mustang put his head in his hands. "It would have been fitting."

"I cannot believe that you're being serious right now!"

"My orders," he hissed, "are ironclad. Regardless of the circumstance, you are not to disobey them."

"That is the most idiotic—"

"Lieutenant."

Riza pressed her lips together and looked away.

"It is not worth the cost of your life and your reputation, Lieutenant."

She laughed and Mustang got to his feet, angered. "Are you mocking me?"'

"Me? In case you haven't noticed, Colonel, because of my interference, the both of us are alive right now. You can threaten and scold and yell at me all you want, but I stand by my decision."

"I still don't understand why you were there in the first place. You had no reason!"

"Colonel, if I may." She gestured for him to come closer. As Mustang leaned down, she drew back her hand and slapped him across the face. He stood there in shock, his fingers automatically reaching up to touch his stinging cheek. "Is it really so difficult for you to comprehend?" she whispered. She felt tears filling her eyes and she blinked them away.

"Riza…"

"Stop. Just stop, okay? Just leave. If you can't be thankful, just let me be."

"I just want to understand."

"I disagree. I think your ego was wounded because of this 'incident', and you're looking for some justification."

He didn't respond, and she remembered that he was just as stubborn as she was.

"Fine. Come here. I won't slap you again, I promise."

He sat on the chair beside her bed, and waited. Riza clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to figure out how to word her thoughts. "It's no use," she blurted. "I just…"

"What—" she interrupted his thought, grabbing hold of the lapels of his coat, pulling him forward, and kissing him soundly on the lips.

Mustang didn't respond. Even after she released him, he sat there in shock, staring at her.

"I think that's all the explanation you need. I understand if this…if I am no longer qualified to serve under you. I accept the consequences of my…actions."

"Riza, I…"

"Colonel," she placed heavy emphasis on his title. "If you would, please just leave me for now. I would very much like to be alone."

He nodded his assent and stood to leave. As he walked toward the door, he heard her stifle a gasp as she lay back down on the bed. He reached for the doorknob, but as an afterthought, locked the door and turned back toward the bed. "How long?"

She laughed. "Does it really matter?"

Mustang thought for a moment. "I…suppose…it doesn't." He walked to the bed and leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. "Get well soon, Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"You…you're not discharging me?"

"That's something that we'll have to discuss later. For now, focus on your health." Mustang opened the door and paused on the threshold. "And Lieutenant?"

"Yes Sir?"

"Thank you."