I don't own FMA.

Takes place after Edward has talked to Riza about the Ishbalan War, I am going to make Winry be in Risembool. Also takes place after my drabble Diary-Journal, basically Riza leaves the room she and Edward were talking in for just a minute, and he reads a page of her journal.

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Riza closed the door behind him, then went to the window to make sure his walk to the dorms was safe. After she saw the heavy double doors close down the street across from her she closed the blinds and started to clean up for the night. Their talk had brought back memories she would rather forget. She shook off the resurfacing memories of war, and put her gun-cleaning supplies back in the wooden box. Next she wiped down the small round table with a damp cloth. Her final task before changing for bed was to vent in the form of writing, plus she wanted to tear out that last page. Her eyes narrowed at the sight in front of her, the little black book she wrote in had been moved a few inches. There was only one suspect, the blond alchemist that had just entered the dorms. She shook her head, "His curiosity always get the best of him," she told Black Hayate, "He will have to learn the consequences."

She didn't even care about what he had read; it was the principle of the thing. He shouldn't be going through her personal private things. She picked up the black dairy and placed it in the top drawer of her bedside table.

She let his trespass go for the night, but had already decided on a plan of action. She would instill the lesson he needed to learn upon him one way or another.

When she woke the next morning her first task was to call Winry Rockbell.

"Rockbell Automail, Prosethetic Limb Fitters. How may I help you?"

"May I speak with Miss Winry Rockbell?"

"This is her."

"Winry, we need you to come to central. Edward's arm needs fixed."

"What?" she shouted, "How? Oh, he is going to pay. I will be there later today. I'll take the next train out, have someone meet me," she huffed.

Riza barely had the chance to get out an okay before Winry hung up. She placed her phone on the hook with a smirk on her face.

She would think of a reason others would find plausible to get his arm, no one would know the real reason. He always argued with the Colonel when in town, she could get him then, if she had to she would hold his love for a certain mechanic over his head, no short joke intended.

Little did she know her reason to pull a gun on him would come very early in the day.

Despite his late night Edward Elric was up very early, he was an alchemist with a plan. He didn't want Mustang to be able to torch him when they talked, so he decided to pull a little prank that would dampen the Colonel's spirit.

His eyes were narrowed in a sinister way and a devious smirk danced on his lips. He used alchemy to create a key to Mustang's office. In a janitor's closet he found all the supplies he needed: a rope, pail, and water tap. After filling the pail with water he heaved it down the hall to the office.

Hawkeye could sense something was amiss as soon as she set foot in the building. Her senses heightened and her hand hovered over her pistol as she walked to the office, it would be her last day working as his First Lieutenant, nothing would go wrong.

She entered the hallway to his office in silence, checking every shadow, gun now drawn, ready to fire at any movement.

After deciding it was all clear she slowly opened the office door, which was feeling a little heaver than usual. She listened closely, holding the door open an inch, but it was silent as usual.

She quickly opened the door and stepped inside the office, only to receive a waterfall of cold water splashing down on her head. She let out an involuntary gasp. It was too early for this, besides, she had already had a shower.

Edward panicked; it wasn't a gloved hand opening the door. It was the hand he had watched expertly cleaning guns the night before. He tried to call out to her, but his voice wouldn't work. He thought she had the day off before starting her new position as aide to the Fuhrer. One thought raced through his mind. She. Will. Kill. Me. He watched, stunned, as the pail toppled over , releasing the cold contents onto the blond sharpshooter. Her face transformed as the water soaked into her hair and drenched her pristine blue uniform. She looked around the room dark rust colored eyes locking his golden ones in a glare. His blood froze.

"I-I-Colonel-Damn-Sorry?" he stuttered.

"You have three seconds," she hissed, throwing the water-logged gun onto her desk and whipping out another one from her holster.

Edward was out of the room before the click of the safety being turned off reached his ears. She turned and watched him run down the long hall, occasionally slipping in his haste. She counted to three as arranged and took aim. The bullet dug into the metal of his right shoulder in the perfect spot, it immobilized his automail arm.

"Edward Elric, you know I get to this office earlier than Colonel Mustang," she said loud enough for him to hear, "I won't shoot you again, I did enough damage for proper revenge. Come back over here," she commaned.

He hung his head and obeyed without complaint.

When he was standing in front of her she whispered, "Don't make it a habit of going through my personal things."

"I guess I should consider myself lucky," he laughed nervously.

"I have already called Winry, she is on her way, you and Al can meet her at the train station."

"What! Why'd you call her? She'll be furious that I didn't call myself," he panicked.

"Exactly," Hawkeye answered, getting annoyed by the soggy feeling of her socks and the water sloshing around in her boots. "I expect you to let the Colonel know why I am late," she said and walked down the hall in her now clingy, heavy uniform. A trail of water appearing in her wake. She tore off the wet jacket with an irritated growl and made to turn the corner.

Ed didn't see what happened, but he heard a breathless "oomph" and a thud. He peeked out of the office and saw Mustang sprawled on the floor with a blushing, dripping Hawkeye on top of him, Ed snorted. He couldn't hear her, but knew she was apologizing profusely, but she made no attempt to stand. Mustang's eyes were closed and he rubbed the side of his head.
Roy wasn't sure if he wanted to open his eyes, he was afraid she would move away from him, he knew exactly who was lying on top of him. He could smell her rose scented hair, feel her breath on his face, hear her gentle voice, and he was painfully aware of her every curve. After a few moments he realized his uniform was getting damp, "Hawkeye, why are you wet?" he asked, cracking open one eye.

"Sir, I'm terribly sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, why are you wet?"

"Oh, sorry," she apologized and quickly stood, she saluted, and then quickly offered her hand to help him to his feet, "If you look in your office you'll figure out the answer," she growled, remembering her soggy socks.

Roy stared at her for a moment, taking in the sight of his drenched First Lieutenant. He smirked and against his wishes ordered her to go home and change. Personally he like the way her black turtleneck hugged her body. He watched her disappear down the hallway then strolled into his office grinning madly, like a child who had just been given a cookie before dinner.

-OOO-

a.n.-After much deliberation I decided to end it there instead of extending it to Winry's visit or even Ed talking to Roy about the Ishbalan War, it felt right to end it here, leaving you with a slight Royai piece, which seems to be one of the few things I can actually get my pen to write and fingers to type. Besides Roy would know there was something more than Edward drenching Riza that made her actually pull the trigger, and I didn't feel like making Ed and Roy play twenty questions. Okay here is a list of what I have uploaded so far, you choose the next chapter:

Going Home: Roy could feel their eyes focused on him, but kept his head down. He sratched out the last few lines of the report and put his signature at the bottom of the page of his last piece of paper work for the day.

Greek Mythology: A little ramble centered around Roy and his similarities to Prometheus, bringer of fire to humans.

Driving Lessons: Havoc hummed the funeral march as he watched Fuery slide into the passanger seat of the same military vehicle in which Mustang was seated behind the steering wheel.

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