A/N- ramenwriter15, I tried to answer your review question privately, but I am not sure that my message went out to you. I decided to have Roy be 15 and Riza be 13 when they first meet. I see that you have them be younger (in Riza's journal) in your very funny story An Out Of Body Experience. (Plug!) I like that, too. Then they'd grow up with a bit of a brother/sister vibe that could develop into a very different relationship. (Luv Royai!) I went with 15, because it seems like a good age to become an alchemy student or apprentice. I dunno. Maybe Arakawa will tell us some day.

Vague spoilers for Chapter 87. Beware!

You know the drill. I've been told I have cow eyes, but I am no Hiromu Arakawa. That means that I don't own FMA. I hope that I honor Arakawa with my tale.

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The next day, when Roy went to meet Mr. Hawkeye in the study, he found his teacher already engrossed in a project. Hawkeye had several tomes opened and scattered over the table, and he was frantically writing in a journal. Roy stood quietly for several minutes, not wanting to interrupt his teacher. When Hawkeye paused in his scratchy note making to consult one of the texts, Roy tentatively whispered, "Sir?"

"Go away, boy. I don't have time for you right now. Study on your own today. Read Swift's thesis on inorganic catalysts and report on it tomorrow," Hawkeye distractedly and grouchily mumbled, not even lifting his head.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Roy bowed to his teacher and backed out of the study even though Hawkeye was not paying any attention to him. Once in the hallway, he made a little joyous jump, clicking his heels together and went off to track Riza down. He hadn't noticed any food in the study, so he proceeded to the kitchen. Riza was there, looking a bit miffed.

"My father was up earlier than I was today. He yelled at me for not having breakfast ready and again when I tried to serve him. He said that it was too late. He couldn't eat after he had gotten started," she complained. "How was I to know that he'd be getting up early?"

"There was no way. You're not a mind reader. He shouldn't have yelled at you," Roy replied. "Did you eat yet?" Riza shook her head. "Well, I'm hungry. Your father threw me out of his study, too. Let's eat together. What have you got?"

It was only oatmeal again, but Riza had added nuts and raisins to it, so it was not so bad. She had also made a pot of coffee that was filling the room with a warm and stimulating aroma. Roy knew where the flatware was stored from his stint as dish dryer, so he set the table for two. "Is your father like this very often?" Roy asked Riza.

"Often enough," she complained. "I have trouble doing what he wants when I know what he expects from me. When he acts like this, I don't even know what to try to do." Her always sad eyes looked more so.

Roy patted her hand as he thought about this for a minute. "Well, there's not much you can do, huh. I think that your having food and coffee for ready for him now is about it. Keep the stuff warm. Maybe leave something that's good at room temperature outside the study door with a note that there's oatmeal and coffee in the kitchen. I know that his mood has got to be tough on you, but if you get lemons, make lemonade!"

"What have you got in mind?"

"Well, your father gave me a reading and reporting assignment today. I can do a lot of that in the woods. It's a pretty day. This will give you a chance to show me that mysterious thing that you are so passionate about." He held up his finger to display the cut that he had made with one of the kitchen knives. "I did blood swear to you."

She was embarrassed that he had said passion. The word made her think of love and sex, not that she knew much about either. But, she thought, she does love doing it. Alchemy was her father's passion, though maybe her mother had been at one time. This new activity that she had discovered was hers. She'd rather do it than anything else, although spending time with Roy was fun. "Okay. As long as I'm back in time to make lunch. I'll put that I had to go out in the note to my father. Meet me at the front door in fifteen minutes."

Roy snapped a salute at her and ran into the living room where he hoped the volume on Swift's thesis was being kept in one of the bookcases. He didn't want to go back into the teacher's study if he could possibly avoid it. He was in luck! He grabbed the book and raced up the steps to his room. Riza admired what seemed like his boundless energy. He moved so quickly. He must not have a lazy bone in his body she thought.

Riza wrote her father a note and prepared his tray. She covered it and placed it to the left of the closed door to the study. She went up to her room, changed her clothes, and placed some items into a backpack. She swung it over her shoulders and inserted her arms though the loopy straps. The bathroom door was closed, indicating where Roy was, so she just went down the steps and waited for him at the front door. He came down about three minutes later and did a comic double take when he saw her outfit. She was wearing what must have been an old pair of her father's pants. The girls from home never wore pants. "This is going to be interesting," he smirked. She ignored his annoying comment and led him out the door.

As they hiked up the hill toward the woods, he realized how practical it was for Riza to have worn pants. He trudged up the hill behind her on the narrow path. There were brambles on both sides of the path, and they snagged their clothes as they climbed.

He should have known that she'd be prepared; she seemed like a very sensible girl. Riza had a very pretty face, but she wore her hair short as if she had more important things to do than bother with it. Or was it not enough time to herself to do her hair? The girls back home curled their long hair and wore bows and ribbons. They never paid much attention to him, as he had been one of the "brains" at school, and the girls liked the "bodies." Chris Mustang, the woman who was like a mother to him, kept telling him that he'd get taller and more muscular, and he devoutly hoped she was correct. The books in the library did support what she had said; a lot of boys don't mature until their late teens. As far as he was concerned, maturity couldn't come soon enough. However, he hadn't discounted the possibility that girls would never find him attractive, even if his "sisters" always went on about how cute he was. As he watched Riza climb ahead of him, he decided that pants on girls were more than just practical…

At the top of the hill, the path widened, and Riza paused so that Roy could walk beside her. They hadn't talked much up to that point, allowing Roy to do the musing about girls. As they began to walk side by side, Riza's excitement began to show in her face. She glanced at her watch, as she was nervous about being back for her father, but her eyes were sparkling. She picked up her pace a little, and Roy quickened his to match.

They were in the woods now. The sun's rays broke through the canopy and dappled the mossy ground. "We don't have to go very far in," Riza told Roy. He was glad of that. He really hoped that she knew her way. He wasn't exactly a country boy, so he crossed his fingers that she knew what she was doing. "Do you come here a lot?" he asked her, not a little because he wanted the comfort of hearing that she could do this with her eyes closed.

"I come here whenever I can get away from the house. Sometimes I just eat and read and relax. Now, though, I mostly practice."

"Practice what?" he asked. A musical instrument? Dramatic recitations? Gymnastics? he theorized.

"You'll see. Let's set up here," she ordered, and he complied. They had come to a small but lovely clearing. Riza heaved her backpack off and placed it on the ground, and Roy did the same. Roy watched as Riza unzipped her pack and pulled out an old blanket for them to sit on. She also removed a couple of apples that she set on the blanket. The next item that she extracted sharply reflected one of the slanting sunbeams lighting the little glen. Roy squinted to better see what it was. Shocked, he realized that the hard shiny object was a gun. He felt queasy. It wasn't that he wasn't used being around guns. His foster mother would sometimes pull out a pistol and undo the safety when a client got unruly with one of his "sisters", though he had never seen her shoot anyone. But Roy had always liked animals. He refused to perform any alchemical experiments on them. He shut his eyes and silently chanted, "Please no shooting any animals. Please no shooting any animals."

Riza sat near him on the blanket and methodically cleaned, oiled, and then loaded the gun. To Roy's relief, she then pulled a few rocks and some empty dented cans from her sack. She got up and balanced some of the objects on branches and others on a large rock that jutted out of the fertile earth. She handed Roy two globs of wax and showed him how to knead them into softness and place them in his ears. Even with the buffering in his ears, Roy heard the click of the safety being released. Riza then raised the gun with both hands and began firing. Bang bang bang bang bang bang. The cans and rocks went flying from their perches in quick succession.

Roy had been watching Riza in profile, and he didn't think that he had ever seen such a look of concentration on anyone's face before. Actually, maybe he had. Teacher had sort of looked like that this morning. Riza didn't look one iota like her father, but she looked like her father. They both looked like it would take a bomb going off to jolt their concentration.

Riza went to retrieve her targets, so Roy jumped up to help her. "Wow. That was really something. How did you ever learn to do that? And why?" he asked, prying the wax from his ears.

"The gun was my mother's father's gun. I haven't seen him since I was very small. I think that he was in the Army. He may not even be alive. We lost touch with my mother's family after she died. But Grandfather had taught my mother how to shoot when she was young. She never showed me; I was too young when she died. The gun was with her personal belongings. My father stays away from her stuff, so I just take anything of hers when I want it. I think that she'd want me to use her things. It makes me feel closer to her, even though I don't remember much about her."

Roy nodded in sympathy It must be tough for a girl to not have a mother. Had Teacher explained all of that creepy girl stuff to Riza? Roy, who knew all about those things from living with his "sisters," shuddered and hoped that Mr. Hawkeye had not scarred Riza for life. He helped her set up the targets again and then flopped down on the blanket to read about inorganic catalysts. Despite the pops from Riza's shooting, he was able to concentrate, even if he didn't have the Hawkeyes' tunnel vision. Swift's thesis was pretty interesting. After awhile he rolled onto his back, still reading. He glanced up at the sky and noticed that the sun was nearly directly overhead. "Riza! Check your watch," he yelled. The popping stopped. Riza frowned when she saw what time it was. Roy thought that she looked nervous, even though she was emptying the gun as methodically as she had done everything else. Roy sprung up to fetch her targets. He rolled up the blanket and stuffed it in his bag with the book.

Riza set a brisk pace towards the house.

"You shut everything else out when you shoot, don't you?" He turned his dark eyes towards her.

"That's what I like best about it," she replied, still staring straight ahead.

"I liked the woods more than I thought I would. Maybe we could have a picnic for lunch the next time your father gives me a break during the day," he ventured.

"We'll see," she said, but she looked at him to say it, and her eyes were soft.

They scooted down the hill and quietly slipped into the house. It was just as they had left it. The tray that Riza had prepared for her father sat untouched in the hall. She felt bad that he hadn't eaten yet today, but at least she and Roy had not gotten in trouble.

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A/N- Riza thinks that Roy doesn't have a lazy bone in his body! Guess she doesn't have a crystal ball.

Thank you, gracias, and merci, etc. for reading. I hope that you enjoyed it. Thanks also for the reviews. They make my day. I love reading your comments! I'll try to continue soon.