The Absence
AU. Royai. Riza Hawkeye never believed that there was a man who could sway her enough to give up Everything. But maybe there were some things that were enough to make her crumble.

Don't let me out of this kiss
don't let me say what I say
The things that scare us today
what if they happen someday
don't let me out of your arms For now
-Regina Spektor 'the Sword & the Pen'

When Riza Hawkeye woke up on the day that would begin the end of everything she already knew; she cut her hair for the first time in seventeen years. She didn't chop it all off, that would have made the Master mad, but she trimmed away her split ends as little as possible. Because the way the strands caught on her hairbrush was driving her insane, but the Master would not be impressed if she cut it to a length that she felt comfortable with. She hated her long blonde hair reaching her waist, it was too easy to remember how He had liked to twist his fingers into her braid and slowly pull it out without her noticing. It had been a game once.

It was the fourth day of the week, and the four hundred and twenty sixth day since the Master had decided that she should always wear a plain white dress, so that it would be harder to hide her cycle, so that he could make sure that she was being faithful.

It wasn't that he used her, it was just that he wanted to be respected, and revered, and he needed to know so that he could be sure that he was protecting her. Or at least, that was what he told her, and she tried to believe it. So she funnelled all of her frustrations into the weapon in her hand and sent them flying across the room to tear through each and every cardboard vital point on each and every card board cut out that he allowed her to use per day.

Riza Hawkeye cut a pretty, delicate figure the way he made her be, and she hated it.

But it wasn't like she could tell him, he was her Master, and he had done everything for her. As he liked to so often remind her; he had given her life, and it wasn't something that she could just easily brush away like the emotional consequences of every job.

Most jobs.

At least she didn't cry over him anymore. Roy Mustang. It had taken five years but she suspected that she was finally, properly ready, to look him in the eye if she ever saw him again. Five years to get over him properly, but she was over him, that much she was very much aware of. Completely and utterly out of love with Roy Mustang.

Probably.

"Hey, Riza," one of the organisations lesser members said, well, yelled, she wouldn't have been heard over the racket of the firing pistol if she hadn't yelled. "The Master wants to see you right away."

Riza let the pistol fall from her hand with a clatter and turned to face the other girl with an impassive look on her face. "I'm coming," she said dully. The other girl, who was called Maria Ross smiled weakly at her and hastily back out of the room. As soon as she was gone Riza retrieved the weapon off the floor and slid the few remaining bullets out of the magazine to put them back in the wooden box that had her name marked neatly on the lid.

The Master always wanted to see her right away.

But she didn't hurry to his office, she walked at a sedate pace the entire way from the shooting range, her white skirt trailing on the ground, contemplating five years. Five years of regretfully building a wall around the Absence in her heart that had formed when she walked away. He wouldn't scold her when she arrived, because she always walked at this pace and he always forgave her. Always.

The Master smiled at her, but it was not a nice smile.

"I have another job for you, Riza," he said, not unkindly. "A simple one for a change. We have a new candidate for the Diplomacy sector and I need you to be his bodyguard for a few months."

Riza nodded silently, and held out her hand for the file that he usually gave her in a cardboard folder. But this time, all that was inside the folder was a carefully typed address and the initials R.M.

"Go to that address," he said, "It's just a bodyguard mission, you don't need to know anything else."

Riza nodded and tried to walk away without saying a word but the Master leaned over and grabbed her wrist. "You are not under any circumstances to lose focus of this assignment. Do you understand?"

"I understand," she said in that same, dull tone. The Master let her go, a small smile lingering on his face.

Danny drove Riza out of the estate and into the city, but she ignored his attempts at polite conversation and only sat sullenly in the front seat until Danny pulled over to a curb about a block from the address so that she could walk the rest of the way. She still had not spoken since leaving the Master's office, and she did not have any intention of speaking any more than she deemed necessary. She didn't really want to speak. She didn't know that meeting her charge would bring words out of her mouth.

The door was unlocked, and when she knocked a deep voice called to her and told her to 'come in'.

How am I supposed to keep you safe if you let a stranger walk in unannounced? She thought, Idiot. What does this make him then? A fool? A fop?

"You're my new bodygua..."

He stopped speaking as soon as he turned around from the kitchen sink to look at her. Their eyes connected and Riza gasped. R.M. Roy Mustang. The man that she had left five years previously. And as he gaped at her she could see the hurt that was still in his eyes, revived by her sudden appearance.

"I have been sent as your protector," she said stiffly.

"You don't look like a bodyguard," he said, "You look like a girl."

"Well I am a girl," Riza snapped, "And I have been sent as your protector."

"But do you want to protect me?" He asked, challenged.

Riza stared at the soap suds falling from his hands onto the floor, at his curtains, at the picture frame that she recognised sitting face down on the mantelpiece over his fireplace. She didn't want to remember the picture that he may never have taken down. Riza looked anywhere but at his eyes, his face, his mouth...

It seemed to her like hours that they stood there while he waited for her answer. But she didn't know the answer, so all she said was;

"I have been sent as your protector, I will do my job as I have been instructed."

It was not like the first time they had met. The first time they had met had gone like this;

5 Years Previously

Riza could see the target's son across the square, and she could see that he was eyeing her with interest. She wasn't entirely sure whether it was because she had specifically dressed herself up to be the kind of woman that he apparently preferred, or because she had taken what seemed to be his usual seat at this particular café, which meant that she was a stranger to the town. Albeit a stranger who had spent two weeks staking out the activities of both this young man and his father, the target.

As far as she could tell, the father always appeared at social functions but spent the rest of the time shut up in his office working 'for the good of the nation'.

The son, on the other hand, he did not seem shy but very rarely spent time with women and those he did choose to spend time with were always quieter, slightly more intellectual types. (Except for one brief fling with a young Xingese lady from the west district that had ended in apparent disaster), he preferred the company of his best friend, a man with glasses who seemed to spend a lot of time telling the son stories about his girlfriend with great excitement and dropping not so subtle hints that perhaps the younger man would be happier with such a woman.

It was the most difficult mission that Riza had been given, and she was relishing the challenge. If she could do this properly the Master would give her so much more respect, and he would trust her, and he would continue to give her the difficult missions, because he would know that she was capable. Which was exactly what she wanted.

And now the son was making his way over to speak to her.

Riza let herself have a silent, hidden cheer. She had been terrified that he wouldn't take the bait. But here he was, leaning over her chair to give her an interested look.

"That's my seat," he said.

"There was no one sitting here when I came," Riza said sweetly.

He grinned at her and sat down on the chair opposite. The sun was warm enough that if she let her guard down she would begin to feel drowsy. She didn't let her guard down of course.

"My name's Roy," he said. "What's yours?"

"Riza," said Riza.

"Riza," said Roy, "Let me buy you a drink."

The Roy who was standing across from her now didn't look like he was going to ask her if he could buy her a drink. He just looked stunned. Stunned, and still hurt.

"Is this some kind of punishment? I don't... I don't understand."

Riza watched him abruptly throw the dishcloth back into the sink and stride into another room, slamming the door behind him. She stood still for a moment herself, and then tentatively made her way over to the mantelpiece to have a look at the picture in the frame. It was still the picture that had been taken the day before the death of his father, the day before she left. It showed the two of them, smiling, happy, because for a moment she had let her guard down and forgotten what she was there to do...

She had been there to do what the Master had told her, and that was why she had returned. Because the Master had told her to.

Even though she was beginning to suspect that maybe, even after all this time, despite who she was supposed to be to him, the Master was still using her like he used everyone else. As though she didn't really matter. Because maybe, still, he didn't really love her.

And that thought terrified her.

Because what if, what if he had manipulated her into falling in love with Roy Mustang. Because there was absolutely no way that she was over him, she knew that now. Absolutely no way.

Roy came back into the room and as she put the photo back the way it had been she could see that his back was straight and his eyes were dry, even if he couldn't look at her directly. Even though he had been doing that just minutes before.

"Well then," he said, "Just, try not to get in the way."

Hear that sound? That's the sound of Riza's heart cracking and crumbling into dust. But she won't cry, because only people who are weak and foolish cry. And Riza Hawkeye is neither of those things. She watched him finish washing the dishes and dry his hands, and the whole time she just stood there because she didn't know what to do...

How could Roy Mustang possibly be the organisation's new Diplomat?

I'm not entirely certain that I'm happy with this story, but I'll be even less happy if I don't finish it. Especially since we don't have anymore FMA to look forward to.

Reviews are much appreciated.