Okay, so I'm going to change the Genre to Romance/Crime. Why? The truth is I'm kindof diving into this a seeing where it will go. I have Ideas, and I trying to keep useless word waster chapter out, but the story is about to see a slight change in mood. In the end this is the result of my movie going habits. In all actuality I've been watching a lot of Guy Ritchie films lately, so you might see a heavy Ritchie influence in it.
I Will Survive
The rain beat down on the roof of Riza's apartment expectantly. They had been stationed in Seattle to oversee an exchange of information between them and some Russian diplomat, and she had already followed through with her end of the deal.
She methodically broke down her rifle and cleaned it of its gunk. She had to get a good night's rest for the plane ride tomorrow. Usually when they did jobs together, she and Roy would operate under the guise of husband and wife, or otherwise as a couple, and they would clear out together. However, they had explicit orders to exit the city separately. She had simply been ordered to make sure than an exchange with a Russian ambassador didn't go sour, but she had no idea what Roy's job was.
Probably something dangerous. She wasn't worried about him, he was Roy Mustang after all, but she was always able to sleep better at night when she knew what he was doing. Or rather, when she could see what he was doing, and had the power to take out any possible threats toward him.
She couldn't help but be mildly amused with herself. She cared for him far too much. Those guises, the ones where they would play house together, they were purely situational. Platonic. An illusion that showed on the outside, but together, when they were alone together, they were professionals. The kisses that they shared in public were practical. Meant for passing on information or convincing others that they were not what they really were. Yet, and this is the part where she would start getting angry with herself, she would sometimes pretend that they weren't.
The gun. Yes, she was cleaning the gun. Concentrate on the gun and not the dreams she had when he would sweep her into his arms after barging into her apartment and- dammit. What was wrong with her tonight? Probably just worry, she reasoned. She hadn't seen him in a few days, and she could help but be worried for his safety. And she was tired. Not sleepy, the years in the Marine Corp Sniper program had taught her all sorts of fun little talents, including the ability to temper her need to sleep. But that didn't mean that a lack of sleep didn't affect her.
She heard boots thump at the entrance of her apartment, and she snapped out of her inward thoughts. Probably nothing, but for the most part people didn't stomp around at 0300 hours. She pulled out her Five seveN. Not the best pistol for home defense, but she would manage just fine. She brought the pistol to the ready as she heard the door being forced open. Who the hell…?
The swung open to real the midnight silhouette of the man who dominated her thoughts. She immediately lowered her pistol as he brushed past her and invade her house.
"Roy, what are you doing here?" He wasn't supposed to see her until they got back to HQ, and he defiantly wasn't supposed to compromise her location.
He turned to face her and she almost gasped. He looked terrible. His hair was in chaos, his coat was torn in multiple places and his face was marred with dirt and a long cut across his cheek.
"They set me up. Where's your refrigerator?" His face was set. He wasn't asking because he was hungry, he was asking for food to sustain himself. To give him necessary energy for whatever he was planning on doing.
The whole thing was a lot for Riza. They? Who the hell was 'They'?
"Roy, what happened? Your not supposed to be here." She was surprised when he about faced quickly and stared straight into her eyes.
"I was betrayed, Riza. I'm not supposed to be alive. Why do you think they didn't want us to meat up yet?" There was that they again. Perhaps it was obvious, but she was tired and a broken and bruised Roy had suddenly shown up at her door, so she figured she had a pretty damn good excuse.
"Who is 'They', Roy?" she asked, loudly.
"The Stars and Stripes, Uncle Sam, The United States of fucking America, take your goddamned pick, Riza! I got fucked!" He was yelling at this point, which was understandable. She was just starting to comprehend what was happening, and her brain started to think about what they were going to do. "I need your car."
"What happened to yours?" She was perfectly willing to relinquish her car, she was just digging for information.
"I was set up by the United States Government, and escaped alive. Don't you think the first thing they'll look for is my car? Here, drink this." He handed her a glass of soda. She drank it, calming the nerves that he had gotten riled up.
"Of course. So, where are we going to go?"
"We? Hell no. you're going to stay here and call me in, Riza." She glared at him. He needed all the help he could get, and there was no way in hell she was going sic the NSA's attack dogs on him. "I need a friend on the inside. You need to maintain the trust you have with HQ so that you can slow them down." Bullshit. He just wanted her to stay out danger.
"Roy, you need someone to watch your back. You trust me don't you?" His features softened and he stepped closer to her.
"Riza, of course I trust you. I just… You weren't the one they want dead. You need to save yourself." As she thought. "The truth is," he pulled her closer to him, and kissed her. It wasn't the kiss that he had given her before, the kiss that didn't mean anything. No, this one definitely meant something. The kiss ended sooner than she would've liked."That I love you. I think I always have."
"And you think that'll convince me to give you up?"
"Not at all. I just thought you should know; this might be the last time I see you."
"I told you, I'm not leaving you so you go and get yourself killed." She never even acknowledged the kiss. It wasn't the importing thing right now. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't report my death to HQ and leave my post right now."
"Well, the drug that I slipped into your drink might be one." Shit. She should've known the bastard better than to trust him. Of course he would pull something like that. "Where are your keys?" She went to get them from her coat pocket, but she couldn't move her arms.
"If you hadn't drugged me, then I'd be able to give them to you, now wouldn't I?"
"If you had been willing to cooperate with me, then I wouldn't have had to drug you."
"You drugged me before you knew whether I would comply or not." It was getting harder to talk and she could feel a forced drowsiness start to overtake her.
"Well then I just know you too well then, Riza my love." He took far too much pleasure in saying that. She might take pleasure in hearing it, if her emotions weren't being suppressed.
"They're in my coat pocket. It's the blue '98 Buick out front." He started to raid her refrigerator for sustenance. When he had gotten an adequate amount of food he took the pistol she was wielding earlier and fired two shots. One was fired in a seemingly random direction, fired only to eject the shell which was purposefully moved to the side by his boot. Then next shot was fired after Roy placed the gun against his own arm. It only skimmed his flesh, but the purpose was to get his blood on the scene.
When he was done he bent over, at which point Riza had realized that she had fallen from the chair she sat at and was now laying on the floor, and placed her Five seveN into her hand. It would look like she had struggled and was subdued by the ever practical Roy Mustang. She would really have no chance than to follow through with the plan he had set up for her; by the time she woke up she would have just as hard a time finding him as the agency they worked for would.
She could hardly keep her eyes open. She saw Roy leaved her apartment and fought with her body to keep awake. The last thing she registered was a flash of bright light and the loud blast of plastic explosives before the drug she had taken forced her into the sleeps embrace.
Roy walked home in the cold winter air of New York. The day had been exhilarating, but exhausting. The would leave soon, the explosion marked not only the climax of his show, but also the climax of his stay; he and the company would prepare for the destruction of a structure for weeks, sometimes months before they would ignite they explosions, and then they would move to a new city in a new state for a new job. The next day he would be getting on a plane to Seattle, ahead of the rest of his company, but he couldn't afford to stick around.
Seattle. Yes, just about everything reminded him of her, but that city… That held special significance. How long ago had it been? Thirteen months and ten days. Probably Twenty Three hours, but hey? Who was keeping track?
He briefly wondered if she was still alive before expelling the thought from his mind. Of course she was still alive. This was Riza he was talking about. She was fricken' invincible. Besides, the thought of her mangled corpse lying there, riddled with bullets, her eyes just opened slowly, mouth sagging, spread out full eagle… No. that was too much to think about.
She probably didn't remember him. Well, at least as well as he remembered her. She never had loved him like he loved her, which was why he hadn't told her until it didn't really matter. He was like a brother to her, and he had always been satisfied with that. She was probably still working for the NSA, and had accepted the 'fact' that he was dead.
He opened the door to his apartment and Riza's scent filled his nostrils, sucking it in greedily. Or maybe she hadn't. His mind briefly mused that it was kind of pitiful that he could recognize her by her smell.
"I suppose you're here for me?" he said into the darkness of his apartment. Two men, one lanky and tall, the other much wider and about the same size as he, stepped out into a lighter area of the apartment.
"Are here we thought we were being all subtle. Looks like were gunna have to do this hard way." Roy turned to half look at them. His distaste for them was evident in his eyes.
"I'm not talking to you."
(thump)
"What the-"
(thump)
The woman he was talking to emerged from the darkness and holstered her silenced pistol in favor of one that was unsuppressed. She walked up to him and pressed the gun to the base of his throat, pointing down to his heart.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't follow through with my assignment, Edward Teach." He looked directly into her eyes, but had a hard time making out any emotion in the them due to the poor lighting.
"Well, I have some soda in the fridge, and I still have some of the drugs I used on you the other night." He hoped that would be rewarded with a laugh, though it probably wouldn't.
Smack
It wasn't.
"Okay, so I suppose I kind of deserved that." She glared at him angrily.
"You came to my apartment in the middle of the night, claiming you were betrayed, drugged me, told me you loved me probably just to twist my emotions into something you could control, and then left, letting me believe you were dead. You deserved that and more, Roy Mustang." She believed he was dead? That was the intent, but when he found her in his apartment he had figured that it hadn't worked too well.
"If you thought I was dead, then why did you come looking for me?" He hoped to god that-
"I didn't come looking for you; I came looking for Edward Teach. I was sent to kill you, Roy." Now that was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen. He could see a haunted look in her eyes that he hadn't noticed before, and he suddenly understood why she was so upset.
"And you almost did," he concluded for her. She gave a slow nod, not able to say anything. His voice changed into a low whisper, and he pulled her into his arms in a brotherly embrace. "I'm so sorry."
They heard a moan come from the floor and immediately snapped out of the revere, and turned their attention to the two bodies on the ground. Two who, until previously, they thought were dead.
"These guys aren't Government; The Government thinks that you're dead." Good. So she took care of that, and bought them some time. "So what are they?"
"That's exactly what I'm thinking. Do I have any enemies?" he asked himself. Wait there were those two brothers… "Or maybe not enemies. I think that your should've shot these people, Riza." She scoffed at him.
"They were threatening you, and I didn't know if they had guns or not. Don't put the blame on me. Who are they."
"Mafia." He said in a low tone. He more or less was hoping that she didn't hear him.
"Mafia? What have you been up too, Roy Mustang?"
.
.
Chapter Tile attributed to Gloria Gaynor
