"So," Ross laughed. "You like men in uniform?"
Riza Hawkeye shook her head. "Do I look that spaced?" she asked, turning her gaze from the parade ground to her fellow officer.
"Yes."
"No," Riza replied.
"You do."
"That's not what I mean. I don't care about men in uniform. There are more bad memories than good ones associated with war. I like that man no matter what he's wearing."
This time Ross could follow Riza's gaze to Roy Mustang.
A/N: wordswithout requested that I wrote a royai ficlet for her. This took me about 2 minutes at 2 in the morning.
