A/N: This chapter is dedicated to TuTsXxX and sweetdeath04 who were my first two reviewers and added this story to their favorites. Thanks a bundle dearies. Even two review means I'm doing something right!

Due to the high volume of activity that had taken place at Central, it was late before Riza finally returned home to her small military issued apartment just outside of the HQ gates. Black Hayate was dutifully waiting for her at the door, and she bent down to provide him with a tender hand before grabbing his empty dish. Tossing some papers on her table, she strolled to the kitchen and flicked on a light, shedding her clean and orderly apartment in a dim glow. It almost looked like no one lived there besides a few personal objects scattered throughout the room. A coat, shoes, a few picture frames, some books laid out on the coffee table, and a mug of cold tea which had been left in her hasty leave in the morning.

"Here boy," she said as she swooped down and placed the now full dish before her small dog. He nosed at the food with appreciative grunts as he ate, occasionally looking up at his owner who wore a troubled expression. Abandoning the food, he went over to nuzzle her leg, sensing her unease and minor distress.

She looked down, comforted by the small action, the frown she had been wearing ebbing away slightly. "Guess who came back today?" she asked in a light voice, as if uttering the statement might snap it in half and make his return vanish in thin air.

"The Colonel came back today. He rode in on his shining white horse and heroically saved all of Central City with the help of the Elric brothers. Isn't that crazy Black Hayate? After two years, he's come back, and it looks like he is staying. The Colonel..."

Her hands sought for the edge of her counter and she gripped the marble until her knuckles hurt. A wince slipped out of her mouth as she felt the nerves crunching, but taking comfort in the stress on her white-knuckled hands, she continued with her grip. It was everything she could do to keep herself from going in hysterics. Throwing shoes, breaking mirrors, possibly punching one of her hard plastered walls. It was strange that on the day of his return she should be in as much upheaval as when he had first left. The days had an eerie similarity.

When Mustang had disappeared, the military had passed a few hushed whispers about the whys and wheres. Riza hadn't found out until the next morning, the stacks of transfer papers fresh on her desk. She had kept composed for the whole day, going about her assigned tasks, signing papers, interacting with her comrades as if nothing had happened. It wasn't until her return home that day when she exploded into a flurry of emotions and words. She had thrown things, broken a window, cracked a wall, threw glasses, plates, anything she could get her hands on. Her neighbors later reported hearing various shouts of curses and profanities into the late hours of the night.

The next day she had come in, her eyes sunken in from a long night of unrest. More curious was the unexplainable bandage on her hand that only she knew had gotten there from an ill placed coffee mug being crushed in her grasp, the glass shards shoving themselves deeply into her flesh. When asked she shrugged it off as a clumsy spill down a couple stairs.

Her episodes of rage and anguish continued for a week, but she never betrayed a single thing during the day at work, around the others. After that she had just grown numb, oblivious to the heaviness that pressed on her chest.

She wasn't going to let that happen again. She wouldn't get hysterical and throw things across the room. She wouldn't scream until her throat grew hoarse. She wouldn't let it effect her. He had left, he had come back. It was what it was and that was the most she would make of it.

Riza released the countertop, her knuckles aching a little from her grip. A glance at the clock told her it was well after midnight, and she knew she had an early morning. But she knew the sleep wouldn't come and it would be a restless night once again. Running some water from the sink she set a kettle to boil and withdraw a teabag from her cupboard. A knock at the door drew her from her thoughts and actions. She turned, surprised at first but then settled into a quiet understanding.

Pacing over, she opened the door and looked into a familiar blue stare.

"Jean."

Wordlessly he moved in and took her into his arms, burying his face into her blond hair, the smell of lavender greeting his nose. His body towered over hers, his larger frame easily engulfing her smaller one. She stood, wordlessly in his hold, taking a moment of soothing reassurance in his warm embrace. He released her after a few seconds and brought his gaze back onto hers. They expressed no words, just looked and she opened the doorway wider, allowing him entrance into her house.

He had been there that first night Roy had left, hushed words drawing her back to sanity, his grasp holding her shaking body close to his, keeping her from further destruction of her apartment. The smell of ash and cigarettes was so close to that of ignition spark and burning fire she had been able to lose herself in his arms and they had sat for hours that first night in silence. He had nursed her wound, sanitizing it, wrapping it, putting her to bed before she could start ripping hair from her head.

Every night that week he had visited, cleaning her messes, putting her to bed and staying close by on her couch, tirelessly staying awake should she need anything throughout the night. He never mentioned the cries he heard coming from her room. Nor the half-crazed monologues she would tirelessly talk over and over again to herself, saying how everything was her fault. How it could all have been avoided had she executed the plan perfectly. He witnessed the downfall of Riza Hawkeye and he had been there to pick up the pieces.

He went over to her couch and sat down as she returned to the kitchen, taking out another mug for him. "Tea Jean?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Earl Grey with a spoonful of milk. His favorite.

He watched her move about the kitchen, tending to the near boiling water, taking out some honey and milk, warming it for his tea.

It had been a month after Roy left and he had still continued with his nightly visits to Riza's apartment. She never disagreed to him coming by at every late hour, and he was never disgruntled about resting on her couch, bunched up to fit his long frame on the small surface. But this night had gone differently. He was settling her into bed when suddenly she had grasped his uniform front and pulled him close to her. His lips hung close to hers and she had looked up at him with those clear amber eyes before pressing forward, taking his into hers and kissing him deeply. Confused and unsure whether to press on or stop he had gathered her shoulders into his hands and pushed her away from him and back onto her bed where she sat looking slightly crestfallen.

"Go to sleep Riza," he had said quietly, turning to go but she stopped him again, grabbing onto his sleeve this time. He turned back to look at her, her eyes so full of hurt and need.

"Jean. Please. Stay. Just for tonight. Stay with me."

That night, one month after he had left, he had stayed with Riza in her bed, their nude bodies pressed against each others. Her hands gripped him tight as if afraid to lose him and he stared at the ceiling as her breathing evened out and he knew she had passed off into sleep. That night he thought about many things. He thought about the toll that the Colonel's leaving had taken on the woman beside him. He thought about the way her blond strands splayed across his chest, the way their eyes locked when he was pressing himself inside of her, the way he had murmured her name and the way she had refused to say his.

The memories of that night came about to Jean as he stared over at her, making their tea. Her bottom lip was in the clutches of her teeth, a habit she had adopted the past two years when she was nervous, frazzled, or in deep thought. He assumed that tonight it was a combination of the three. The kettle on the stove began to sing and she hurried to turn down the heat and pour out the hot contents, placing a bag in each mug and then the hot water, steam pouring out the tops. Chai with a spoonful of honey. Her favorite.

Looking away from her he glanced at her table where some papers she had thrown were scattered . Reaching over to straighten them, something caught his eye and pulled one sheet up to read.

"REQUEST FOR REPOSITION

Major Riza Hawkeye, as of-" he skimmed the first few lines and skipped to the bottom of the sheet.

"Reposition with promotion to Lieutenant Colonel under Brigadier General and Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang to be stationed in Central HQ.

Signed

Fuhrer Grumman

Brigadier General Roy Mustang

Brigadier General Hason James*

Undersigned"

And there was a blank line waiting for her signature for approval. He had in fact received the very same piece of documentation earlier that evening and had promptly signed it, not thinking twice about returning to a position under Mustang.

"Riza," he started. She appeared at his side, brandishing two mugs piping hot with tea and handed one to him, settling down beside him, her body curving easily into his. Her eyes looked over at what she was holding and a flash of emotion passed through her gaze. Was it anger? He put on an apologetic grin and slipped it back on the table. "Didn't mean to be nosey. It's just that I got the same papers today."

"Oh."

"Well I signed mine off, but without a promotion."

"Mmm."

Jean put his hand through his hair, and looked up, holding the hot cup of tea, unsure exactly what to say. She swept in and easily took over the silence, easily knowing exactly what to say. She pressed a warm lipped kiss to his cheek and stood, gathering his hand in her own and looked down at him with a small smile.

"Let's not discuss work. Come to bed?"

Jean smiled back at her and stood, placing a hand low on her waist and gathering her into a deep mouthed kiss before letting her go. She turned and went off into the room with the bed that he knew well at this point, leaving the door open for him to come in after her. He glanced down at the paper once more, the blank signature line standing out to him before blinking and letting the thought leave this mind. Taking a sip of his tea and burning his tongue, he followed Riza into the bedroom and closed to the door behind him.

A/N: So for all of you guys fiending for some Royai time, I will give you some heads up. This will be a fanfic where the romance is taken at a much slower pace then what I have read in other fanfics. I feel that this makes the final product much more appreciated then a sloppy kiss by chapter three. And for those with questions about the standing of Riza and Havoc that is answered either next chapter or the one after, haven't decided yet. But I figured I would give a brief teasing overview in this chapter. Please review and let me know your thoughts so far!

~Splenda