Roy felt his heart clench in his chest when the first blow struck Riza's face. He was moving before he knew what he was doing, ignoring Hughes and Havoc hissing at him to stay down, grabbing desperately at his arms as he burst up from a crouch.

The only thing occupying his mind was the fact that Berthold had just struck his daughter.

She accepted the blow, her face snapped to the side so that Roy could see her profile. There was no expression on her face. One single tear tracked down her cheek and that was what did it for Roy. He was up and moving at the sight of that tear.

"The surveillance team told me you let the thief go. Where are they?"

"I don't know," she replied, voice monotone.

Before Berthold could lower his raised hand, Roy launched himself through the glass, blasting it into a thousand different directions. In the moment of surprise, he tackled Berthold to the ground. Lifting his body up, Roy reared his arm back, punching him in the face.

That was satisfying.

"Shit, Mustang," Hughes sighed exasperatedly. "Did you have to make such a mess?" Glass crunched underneath their feet, by Roy couldn't hear it. All he could hear was the roaring of blood in his ears, the anger pumping his heart in his chest.

"Apologies, my lady," Hughes announced quietly. "If you would please," Roy vaguely heard him utter urgently.

Roy unsheathed a knife and slammed it into the wooden floor, pinning Berthold Hawkeye to the ground through the rich fabric of his suit. His eyes met Roy's dark ones, his face obscured by his cowl, disbelief and fury plain as day on his face.

Not to mention the blood from his no doubt broken nose.

"Don't you fucking touch her like that," Roy growled, lowering his face to Berthold's so he was mere inches away. The older man tried to struggle to get free, but one of Roy's knees was on his chest.

"Get off me," he seethed.

"Not until the lady is safe."

"And who are you supposed to be?"

"Someone with basic human decency," Roy replied, slamming the pommel of his other knife in Berthold's face, knocking him out cold.

"Mustang, let's go!" Havoc urged. Roy spun and stood in one fluid movement, springing back across the room to the window, grasping Havoc's outstretched hand. After hauling his friend through the space, dodging the jagged glass on either side of the frame, both men sprinted across the grass to meet up with Hughes. He had the Lady Riza's hand as they ran to a maze part of the garden, taking cover behind the foliage on offer as they waited for Havoc and Roy to catch up.

As they approached Riza perked up at the sight of him, eyes wide in shock and another emotion that Roy couldn't identify. She begun to stand, and when Hughes gently grasped her shoulder telling her to keep low, she shrugged out of it and walked forward to meet him. She slowed to a stop, expression one of wonder as she looked at Roy.

"You… You came back," she whispered.

Roy tried to ignore how happy it made him to see Riza looking at him like she was.

"My lady, please," Hughes urged, gently taking her wrist in his hand. Riza didn't even turn to look at him she wrenched herself free, taking another step towards Roy.

Roy saw something glint in the moonlight to their left. He launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around Riza's waist while she gasped in surprise. The arrow clipped his back, but his armour was thick enough it didn't penetrate it. He heard the leather rip, but his back remained pain free. He turned as he grasped Riza's waist so that he landed first, taking the brunt of the blow. He landed with a painful grunt, but his hold remained.

The pair skidded behind the perfectly trimmed hedges in the maze, landing at Hughes' feet. For a split second they just stared at each other. Roy's dark, black irises met her whisky coloured ones and the only thing he could think of was how he wanted to lose himself in those eyes.

"Lovebirds, any time today," Havoc hissed, letting loose another arrow.

That was enough to break the spell.

Roy sprung to his feet, offering Riza his hand and pulled her to her feet. The whole time she never took her eyes off him.

"We need to go," Hughes urged, beckoning them hurriedly towards the cover of the trees towards the edge of the property.

"This way," Riza announced once they were under the cover of the foliage, steering them in a completely different direction.

She still hadn't let go of his hand.

It was only once they began to sprint that she appeared to remember they would move faster apart, however she stayed close to his side.

Maybe she did feel something similar.

Did he dare hope?

Riza led them to a hidden trap door in the ground and they piled in, each breathing hard after their exertion. Roy looked at every one of them, his eyes finally coming to rest upon Riza. Thankfully, his cowl covered his face so the others couldn't see the heat rising in his cheeks when he realised exactly what Riza was wearing, or lack thereof.

She was dressed in a thin nightgown which did nothing against the biting winter cold which followed them even underground. Shirking out of his jacket, he offered it to his soulmate.

"Here," he murmured, draping it over her shoulders. She appeared to be very thankful for the sudden warmth, because she burrowed herself inside of it, closing her eyes as she accepted the protection against the chill.

Roy ignored the way that sight made him feel.

Bordering on ecstatic.

"Thank you," she breathed, offering him a beautiful smile.

As Roy nodded mutely and pulled away, he ignored the pointed stares from Havoc and Hughes and missed the way they grinned at each other.

Roy didn't allow anyone to talk further, as if fully realising the impact of what they had done tonight. He had been careless. He had punched Berthold Hawkeye in the face, and it would look like he'd kidnapped the Hawkeye heiress.

Shit.

"Let's go," he muttered, turning away from the other three and striding ahead, desperate to find a way out of this whole he had just dug himself because he let his emotions get the better of him.

He wasn't sorry he had retuned and gotten her out of that house, but Riza may not feel that way. She was grateful, but would she want to come with them? This plan was entirely improvised and short-term.

There was no future for them. Not really. They were too different and from two different worlds. It would never work in the long-term. Roy couldn't offer her what she needed. He was a lowlife – there was no other word for it. An heiress doesn't fall in love with a lowlife. A thief.

When he had discussed his predicament with the Madame the night before – the day after he'd stolen information from Berthold – she had said as much. Not out of malice, but out of concern so that he wouldn't end up hurt and heartbroken.

"I want you to be happy, Roy boy," she had explained in a rare moment of softness. His Aunt was gruff in every sense of the word, opting for the use of tough love rather than coddling him, but she had her moments. "And I'm afraid this venture will end in nothing but heartbreak for you."

"I know," he had muttered, rubbing his hands tiredly over his face. He jumped when the Madame gave his hand a quick squeeze in comfort.

"You never know what will happen. It may work. However, be careful. These people only care about themselves." Riza didn't give him the impression that she was an airhead heiress, only caring about money and status, but when raised in that environment without any other way of knowing better, it was difficult to change one's mind.

"I will, Aunt Chris. Thank you."

"Take care of yourself, Roy boy. First and foremost."

"Pardon my friend's rudeness," Hughes stated behind Roy. He could feel the corner of his lips pull into a snarl. "My name is Maes Hughes, my lady."

"Jean Havoc, my lady," his other friend greeted, and Roy could picture the grin on his face.

"Please," she replied, voice earnest but quiet. "Call me Riza. None of this lady nonsense."

"Of course," Hughes replied, and Roy could hear the uncertainty in his tone.

"Guys, let's go," he urged, not turning back.

"Please excuse Mustang," Havoc stressed. Roy could picture the glare now. He also mentally fucking dared Havoc to give Riza his real name. That was for him to reveal, and him only.

Once he had figured out what the hell kind of mess he'd just gotten himself into.

Hughes and Havoc chatted to Riza on the way back to the bar. Her replies weren't often, but she did engage. The sound of her laughter as Havoc told some dumb joke was music to his ears, but Roy was using the excuse he was scouting ahead to make sure it was safe, which was true and good practice, but it was also a coward's excuse.

The Madame took one look at Riza when they arrived and whisked her into the lounge, sitting her right next to the fire. She barked for Rachael – the bar's in-house medic – to come right through and see to Riza at once, checking her cheek over. It was still bright red, now even worse after being out in the biting cold of the winter night.

Riza still had Roy's jacket clutched tightly against her shivering form and he wanted nothing more than to walk over there and wrap his arms around her.

Why? he scolded himself angrily. Shifting in place, he schooled his emotions. Riza's eyes flicked over, catching the movement out the corner of her eye.

Once checked over and given the all clear, the Madame all but pressed Riza into his arms.

"You got her into this mess, you make sure she's well cared for," she warned, eyeing him carefully.

Roy swallowed and nodded all the same.

"I… I apologise for my distance after we…"

They were in the guest room next door to his bedroom. Riza had looked around the small, bare, room and Roy got the feeling she was expecting something much grander. They hadn't discussed what had happened tonight at all. Roy had basically abducted her from her home. He had no idea her thoughts on the situation. So much had happened in such a short time frame that even Roy struggled to keep up with it all.

"You rescued me tonight," Riza supplied simply, expression expectant as she stated the plain truth.

Roy rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah. About that –"

Riza waved her hand, dismissing his worries. "Do not fret." She smiled warmly at him, expression turning almost shy.

Roy's stomach sunk. Even the way she spoke…

They were too different.

This will never work.

"You did me a favour," Riza continued, oblivious of Roy's inner turmoil. I meant what I said when I hoped you would give my father hell."

He felt anger spike inside him at the memory of her being slapped so hard her head snapped to the side. The sound echoed unpleasantly in his head. He almost revealed right there and then the reason for his "rescue", but Riza yawned and her eyelids drooped.

Feeling like a coward, Roy was incredibly relieved. He had avoided this conversation for a second time.

"Get some sleep," Roy replied, his voice turning gentle. Riza nodded as her eyes drooped again. "We can discuss things in the morning. That is, uh, if you are comfortable staying here?" he stuttered uncertainly.

"Of course," she smiled warmly, soothing Roy's fears.

Okay, problem one sorted tonight. Tomorrow is a future problem.

"Thank you, for tonight, Mustang. I…" A light blush appeared on her cheeks and Roy thought it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

God, he had only known about her for two days.

He would need to ask Hughes to find out if things were this quick with him and Gracia.

Perhaps that wasn't the best idea. He was such a romantic, he was probably in this deep after ten minutes.

"I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," Roy replied as he turned to face the door to leave. He glanced back over his shoulder to shoot her a smile, but she was already lying on her side, facing the wall, her back to him.

What really made him stop, drawing his attention, was the writing on her wrist.

Roy.

"Holy shit," Roy muttered the next morning as he paced. "Holy shit."

"I feel like we've already established that," Havoc replied, taking a slice of toast and putting it on his plate. "And that much was obvious if you're her soulmate."

"I know…" he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "I just… I didn't expect it to be true." It was too good to be true.

Not that it mattered now.

He'd basically kidnapped the woman from her home. Roy wasn't sorry about punching her father in the face and saving her from another strike, but Riza had yet to reveal her thoughts on the matter. Roy had yet to broach the subject.

He had left her last night with the promise in his mind that they would discuss all of this in the morning, but the anxiety in his stomach pushed him towards chickening out.

Was it so wrong that he didn't want the other half of his soul to reject him, just because of who he was?

It was a basic fact that while Riza had been born at the top of society, Roy had been born at the bottom. Where did that leave them? It was truly cruel of fate to put him in this situation.

Because he knew he was already falling for her even after this short time.

It was clear in the way pure anger burned in his veins when he saw his father strike her. The way he felt true fear when he saw her injured. The way butterflies blossomed in his stomach when his hand brushed over his abdomen, even over his armour.

The way his heart leapt when she smiled at him.

He was in deep and he was in big trouble.

Now all he had to do was have said conversation.

Hughes was running perimeter with Falman, taking Fuery along for the ride for some experience. Breda was out on surveillance, so it was just Havoc and Roy having breakfast together. The Madame had been informed of Riza's situation and was watching from the front of the bar. She would notify them should any trouble come knocking.

"Just try and let him take that girl back," she had sniffed, placing a hand on her hip as she watched Rachael check Riza's face.

So, once Havoc was finished eating, Roy had all the time in the world to broach the subject.

He just needed not to chicken out.

"Well, believe it," Havoc stated very helpfully, biting into unbuttered toast. Roy stopped and looked at him with an odd look.

"Dry toast? You're a psychopath."

"Kidnapping your soulmate? You're a psychopath."

He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a quiet, female voice.

"Soulmate?"

Roy froze, feeling every ounce of blood drain from his body.

Oh, shit! Not now. Not like this. Shit!

"You're… You're…"

Riza trailed off and Roy watched as Havoc froze, toast still in his mouth. Without another word he pulled lifted his coffee cup, his plate laden with food and booked it out of the room, his toast still in his mouth.

"Are you Roy?" Riza asked finally.

The question he had been desperate for since he met her, but equally dreaded because yes, he was, and Riza Hawkeye was his soulmate, but he was a thief, a lowlife.

"Yes." His mouth was dry. Roy swallowed, turning to face the beautiful woman who owned half of his soul.

"I… I can't believe it," she whispered in awe. Then her eyes flicked back up to his, face becoming expressionless.

Roy's stomach dropped.

"This… This is a lot to take in," she finally said.

Roy understood those words. It was a kind way of saying "holy shit, no thank you, bastard". He nodded, his head bobbing once, twice, then a third time.

Accepting his fate needed to be done quickly because Hughes entered the room armed to the teeth and looking thoroughly unamused. The Madame entered afterwards, followed by a group of girls who looked extremely worried.

"What's wrong?" he asked, dread pooling in his stomach.

"It seems we have some visitors," the Madame replied coolly, gaze turning towards Riza.

Oh… No.

"Stay here," he commanded, striding forwards to enter the bar. Hughes was hot on his heels.

"Wait!" Riza called but the Madame cut her off.

"You ought to come with us, my lady," Roy heard her reply, but there was a hardness in her voice. Surely, she couldn't think… Surely not.

But his Aunt had every right to be suspicious. Two nights ago, they had brought this strange girl to the bar – an heiress of all people, to a brothel – and now trouble turns up at her door.

As Roy walked into the bar and Berthold Hawkeye stared right back at him, his anger spiked as he remembered what the man had done to his daughter.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me," he purred, eyes calculating Roy's every movement. He wanted to yell that Riza didn't belong to him, but Roy had played this game many times.

"Anything in particular? I have a lot of things," Roy replied casually, rounding behind the bar. He poured himself a whisky, lifting the bottle in a silent offering to Hughes. His friend had his hip propped against one of the support beams by the bar, arms crossed casually across his chest. His black leather armour barely whispering as he moved.

Hughes turned down the offer of the drink.

Roy shrugged, as if to say, "suit yourself", and took a sip of the liquor, relishing in the way it burned down his throat. Good. It would put a fire in his veins to fight this bastard. The goons behind Berthold bristled at the nonchalant way he and Hughes carried themselves, unaffected by the show of power in the room.

"You know fine well what, scum," Berthold growled.

Roy rounded the bar to face the man, holding his carefully crafted air of nonchalance. As if on cue, a rat ran across the top of the bar and the man recoiled. Roy would have laughed if his knife wasn't embedded in the wood, skewering the man's suit once more, forcing his eyes on Roy and not the sudden noise from the back room.

Apparently, Vanessa had let one of her pets out again. Or, little Bradley had chewed through something and escaped again. That definitely seemed likely. He was a crafty one, to be sure, and Roy's favourite out of her four pet rats.

"I want you and your goons out of my bar," Roy hissed in his face. "I know jack shit about what you're talking about and I don't like what you're implying." Roy lifted the knife, straightening as he eyed Berthold. "Get the hell off my property."

The men behind Berthold sprung into action. Before they could even get to Roy each had a throwing knife embedded in one of their arms, and they cried out in pain. Roy took care of the other two, flicking two of his own knives in their direction, hitting their throats. They fell to the floor with a thump. Berthold – who had looked so confident with his smirk a second ago – looked bewildered.

Roy smirked at him and that was the last straw.

He was a quick one, Roy would give him that, and he could appreciate the dirty tactic because Roy frequented a few himself. However, he didn't appreciate the piercing pain in his abdomen as something sharp poked out of his back.

"Roy!" he heard Hughes yell.

Then the metal was gone, leaving air to painfully rush over his wound. Blinking in confusion, Roy brought a hand to his side as a frown appeared on his face. There was a thud behind him, but he was barely paying attention. Roy couldn't, because when he pulled his hand away it was flush with blood. It dripped from his fingertips onto the floor beneath them.

"Stop!" a woman whispered. Roy lifted his head, feeling his knees buckle underneath him. Riza stood watching him, eyes wide, tears streaming down her face.

"Roy," Hughes whispered as he begun to fall.

Why was everyone whispering?

Someone caught him before he could hit the ground, but their touch wasn't gentle in the slightest. A hand circled around his neck, closing tight and cutting off his airway, while another restrained both his hands. Hughes cried out beside him, but it was muted.

"Stop it," Riza whispered again.

Roy gasped in pain as the pinning of his arms opened his wound further. Stars danced in his vision from both the wound and the lack of oxygen.

"I'll go with you, just… Leave them alone. They did nothing wrong."

Roy groaned as the pressure on his arms increased. "Riza," he garbled, but that was as far as he got. She couldn't, she couldn't go back with him. He would hurt her and Riza deserved so much more than that.

His vision turned a blinding white as the man behind him tightened his grip once more. He was close to passing out.

He needed to concentrate.

Where was Riza?

She was standing in front of Roy, blocking his view of Berthold.

Was she okay?

There wasn't a mark on her that he could see, but Berthold was clearly dangerous. Roy need to get out, he needed to fight –

He bit back a yell as pain rushed through him. Roy's eyes squeezed shut so he missed how Riza's shoulders tensed in response to his strangled cry. Panting, he focussed on the words. The conversation was easier to focus on than this agony in his side. It was broken, his wound affecting his ability to concentrate fully on what was currently happening around them.

"You don't belong here," Berthold stated.

"Yes, father."

"You will come home at once."

"Yes, father."

Roy wanted to hurtle towards Berthold with a yell. He wanted to thrash against this man's hold on him. All that left him was a strangled groan.

"No," Roy ground out. He twisted in the hold. He had one good move left in him and he wouldn't let that bastard hurt Riza again.

The hold on him was too strong.

A loud, pained yell left him. His eyes opened blearily as a reflex to see Riza and her father staring at him, the former with worry and tears in her eyes, the latter with a slow grin spreading across his face.

"Ah, so I see how it is," he purred. Berthold's hand reached out and snatched her wrist. Roy snarled – well, tried to – as she whimpered in pain, Berthold twisting it roughly. He looked at her tattoo and smirked. "How cute," he spat, dropping her wrist. "Let's go, Riza." Berthold nodded to the two men.

Roy hit the floor painfully. He gasped in agony, almost blacking out. His vision greyed as he gasped for breath, aggravating his injury.

"Roy!"

He couldn't tell if that was Riza or Hughes. Suddenly there were hands on him, and Roy tried to struggle only to find Hughes instead.

"I've got you man, I've got you. Lie still, please. You'll be okay."

His head was lifted onto something soft – Hughes' thighs.

"Wait, can I –?"

Roy's eyes slowly found Riza. They were at the door, just about to leave. Berthold had a tight grip on Riza's wrist, pulling her resisting body out of the Madame's bar. He stirred as Hughes held his shoulders gently down, stopping him from hurting himself further.

"What?" Berthold barked. Scoffing, he violently dropped her wrist without looking back. "Make it quick," he sniffed. "I don't want to be here any longer than necessary." Roy felt his blood boil as he turned his nose up at his home.

Bastard.

Riza rushed over to him, dropping to her knees. The clothes she had borrowed from the Madame – much more functional for fighting than for a lady, like herself – were beginning to soak up the blood. His blood. Her hands brushed away his fringe from his face and Riza bent her head, pressing her forehead against.

"Don't go," he whispered fearfully, truly scared this would be the last time he would ever see her.

"I… We haven't known each other for very long," she whispered back, her tears wetting his face. She pulled away and looked into his eyes, her emotions plain as day within those whisky coloured orbs. "But you are my soulmate. I've known that since I met you."

"Riza –"

"I love you, Mustang," she smiled softly, placing a kiss against his forehead. "I don't know how it is possible so soon, but I truly do. I feel like I've known you my whole life. I feel whole now, and it's all thanks to you."

Berthold scoffed behind them and Roy fought the urge to drag himself up off the floor and tear the man's head off. Riza didn't even appear to have noticed.

"I love you too," he replied, cupping her cheek with his hand.

He knew that fact better than he knew his own name.

This woman was the other half of his soul, no doubt about it.

His hand took an age to reach its destination – the movement extremely painful – but it was worth it. Of course, it was. But even that marred her perfect face with his blood, he realised with horror. As he begun to recoil, Riza trapped his hand in place, grasping his wrist and pressing his hand back against her cheek.

She turned her head and kissed his palm right as the light began to fade from the room. "Take… Take care of yourself."

He felt, rather than saw, her nod. A set of lips were pressed gently against his own and that was when his tears started.

Roy didn't want her to leave. He was in agony, but he would rather live in that moment with Riza forever and endure the pain rather than the endless black that was awaiting him. It creeped in at the edges of his vision, threatening to take him at any moment.

No, not until Riza was out of his sight.

If this was all he was going to get with his soulmate then he would endure and make the most of it.

His one regret was he would be leaving her behind.