Chapter 2

Olivier Mira Armstrong never missed an opportunity to make Roy's life difficult. At least, that was the impression he got given their many years of interaction. It wasn't enough that she had routinely interrupted his World of Warcraft guild meetings with Alex and generally lorded over him during their shared ROTC experience in high school. Neither, it would seem (given her usage of "chemistry boy," one of her unimaginative nicknames for Mustang), did she intended to turn over a new leaf during her senior year of college.

But to interrupt that rare moment of flirtatious banter with Riza! There was something about that straw that finally broke the camel's back.

"What the hell, Olivier?" he spat once the two had exited the fairgrounds. "Do you even like Paninya or are you just trying to make my life difficult? It's not right to mess with her emotions if it's just a game to you."

"Both actually," Olivier responded with smug satisfaction. "And you're quite the hypocrite. At least Paninya isn't under my command. People talk about you and Hawkeye, and given what I've seen tonight, I'm surprised you both haven't been court-martialed."

"Watch your mouth?" Roy growled. "You want to talk trash about me, fine. I'm a little too familiar with subordinates. But leave Riza out of it. She's done nothing wrong."

"Why Roy," Olivier countered. The young woman turned to lean casually against a parked car, presumably her own. Genuine surprise played across her lips. "You really do care about her, don't you?"

Though he maintained a dark look, Roy said nothing in response to Olivier's baiting. He turned on his heel to leave, making a mental note to talk to Alex about sharing information with his infamous sister. Olivier was a pill at the best of times, even if her threat to report Roy and Riza was hollow.

"I also came to warn you," Olivier called out after Roy. Cadet Major Mustang stopped and turned his head to view Olivier out of the corner of his eye. "Kimblee, that kid who transferred to Briggs last semester, the one who has a problem with you, mentioned something about stopping by this fundraiser in class on Friday. I was in town visiting, and I thought you should know."

Still seething from her earlier pokes and prods, Roy couldn't bring himself to thank Olivier aloud; however, her warning was more than appreciated. Though a gifted tactician and an intelligent philosophy major, Kimblee was sadistic at his core, a former officer who narrowly escaped expulsion due to his connections and a hasty transfer. The cadet major nodded and waved casually over his shoulder as he returned to the festival, and even though thoughts of Cadet Hawkeye's skirt made his palms sweat, he vowed not to act on his impulses for the remainder of the evening.

…

Time passed progressed without further incident, and though Roy's found that he'd left his levity on the outskirts of the parking lot, the rest of his team carried on as if nothing was awry. By a quarter past eight, the crowd thinned and all four kissers (Ed departed early to spend time with Winry, one of his few customers) took a well-deserved break. To Roy's relief, Cadet Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes and Cadet Heymans Breda arrived to handle the closing shift.

"Good work team," Hughes congratulated with gusto. "Really stickin' your lips to that competition." Hughes chuckled at his own bad joke while polite laughter rippled through the small group. "Now, for the last hour, I say we go down to one boy and one girl. Breda and Ross are our kissers, Hawkeye will continue to man the ticket line and I will supervise. Everyone else, have a great evening and be sure to stop by around nine when we auction off the final kiss of the evening. No bidding though. Gotta respect those anti-frat regs."

The small crowd dispersed as the off-duty cadets discarded their dress blue in favor of civvies. Roy Mustang, now free of the tie that always seemed to choke him, threw on a baggy pair of jeans and a hoodie emblazoned with the Central University Crest. After carefully bagging the parts and pieces of his uniform, he slipped a well-worn baseball cap over his mop of messy black hair.

"Hughes," Mustang beckoned. "Can I have a word?"

The bespectacled colonel excused himself from the company of Rebecca and Riza. He slid his cell phone into his jacket pocket with a contented grin. Roy mused, somewhat ruefully, that ever since Maes began dating Gracia, his world seemed to shift. Gone were the days of player Maes and his wingman Roy, though most people assumed it'd been the other way around. Still, Mustang found himself jealous of the perfect Instagram couple presented by Hughes' snapshots.

"How's Gracia?" Roy asked.

"Beautiful as always," Maes stated, "but I know you didn't call me over here to get a good look at our selfies. What's bothering you?"

"That transparent, am I?"

"Only to me, buddy. Now spill."

"It's probably nothing," Roy said, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably. "Olivier stopped by…"

"I saw that on Fuery's snapchat," Maes interrupted. "Was it better in person?"

"She grabbed Paninya's ass during my watch, in front of a group of pre-teens and a mom," Roy answered with venom. "I fully expect some sort of complaint about it by Monday afternoon and a dressing down by Grand shortly thereafter. So no, it was not better in person, Maes."

"That's a shame 'cause I think we really could have capitalized…"

"Olivier told me that Kimblee was planning on showing up," Roy interjected. "It's probably not a big deal, but you know what he was planning before I…"

"Say no more," Hughes said with a serious expression. "That bastard played it off as a joke and got the hell out of Central, but we both know he should have been arrested. I'll keep an eye out, and if he shows I'll take care of it."

Roy smiled gratefully at his comrade. "Thanks, Maes."

"You sticking around for the auction?" Hughes clapped Mustangs shoulder as cadet major gathered his uniform and turned to leave.

"I don't think so," Mustang said. "Professor Hawkeye's got a deadline next week, and I'd like to try to get some stuff done tonight."

"Suit yourself. All work and no play makes Roy a dull boy." Hughes lowered his voice considerably as his next thought slipped from his lips. "But it's not like Hawkeye's in the hot seat."

For the second time that evening Roy found himself at a loss for words when it came to Riza Hawkeye. He couldn't say he didn't have feelings for the blonde sharpshooter. That ship, the USS Denial, sailed long ago. Now, it was a matter of damage control, of finding the balance between maintaining a working relationship and hopelessly wanting something more.

"Have a nice evening, Maes," Roy said as he headed out the back, toward the parking lot.

"Roy!" A familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

A/N: As always, feedback is life. Favorites, follows and comments (especially comments) are things of beauty. Please be a beautiful person and leave me some if you liked this. Stay tuned for the next chapter. I might even get it out today!