The Next Day

I had spent most of the night preparing for this day.

I hadn't meant to. Once I was satisfied with my reasons – all six revisions – I went to type it. And wasn't that fun? Every time I hit the wrong key I had to start over. It took forever to type because I knew better than anyone that I had to type one-handed. Typing with automail was akin to watching a tennis ball during a match – you were constantly whipping your head back and forth.

And then the dogs decided to "help".

The end result was that it was after midnight before the list and rationales were both typed and up to your standard – hopefully.

Satisfied that I was done – albeit tired and annoyed with that typing contraption but done – I longed for bed. The dogs were piled on top of each other in a slumbering, furry heap. I could finally go to sleep or so I thought.

My mind had refused to turn off and allow sleep to settle in. Every time I tried, something new would come to mind. Now that the task at hand was completed, I got to ponder your response. Was it good enough? Is it defined clearly – to military types that is. I did use the term "pointless research" because that was the best way to describe it. I guess I could have called it irrelevant… or would wasteful be better?

And then there was the biggest question of them all, how would you react? Your touch left me optimistic but history wanted to drag me down. On one hand you seemed to respond better to my self-improvements. On the other, your diction sucks and it tends to either hurt or confuse me. Then there was your tendency to touch my hair, my face. My sharp memory replaying those events to a startling clarity.

So my thoughts circled. I knew that I needed to stop. I needed to sleep, but it never worked. I was left in a permanent state where I was wide awake, frustrated, and nervous all at the same time.

And maybe a little hungry.

But not sleepy – not in the least.

This one stupid meeting at three o'clock and I'm a complete wreck.

I spent the subsequent morning mulling over events that had not even happened yet. Again. And now that I'm on the way to your office, my anxiety grows exponentially. I needed to calm down and repeat everything I rehearsed about sixty times last night during my fruitless attempts to sleep.

I really hate this – this unsure feeling.

But if you smile my way I know this feeling will dissipate completely – replaced by something better. I'll forget about this uneasiness – about everything that built up to this moment. One positive action nullifies an entire night's worth of apprehension.

It's an unbalanced equation. It needs to be set right, logically. To even out the sides so that they are equal once again.

So why does it work when it is unbalanced?

Was that the reason for last night? To let me know I don't have to feel like this anymore – to fret over the state of unbalanced equations. You should know that wouldn't work for me. I really don't know how to act or what to do. I'm second guessing everything – struggling desperately to say or do the right thing. Hoping that it is right. I hate that I'm doing that but I can't stop.

By the time three o'clock rolled around, I was staring at the door marked "Brig. Gen. Mustang". The placard was rather pretty, marked in bright, gold lettering set against a black background. The lettering was good too – very precise. It reminded me of my school teacher back in Resembool. Her handwriting always looked exactly like it did in the books. My eyes moved to examine the wood of the door when it swung open.

"Oh, hiya Chief!" Havoc's voice could have carried across mountain tops at that volume.

Caught, I had to make it look good. "Hey, Havoc just dropping in."

"Second time this week. That's a little odd for you."

Grinning and scratching the back of my neck in a reflexive way to alleviate my nervousness, "Uh, yeah, well…"

"Lieutenant Havoc, don't you have work to do?" Ah, Hawkeye, my scary savior. "Edward, come in. I believe I actually have an appointment for you."

I watched Havoc consider a retort, realize the inherent danger, surrender, and walk pass me. It was times like this when I'm glad that Hawkeye has such a reputation.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to meet with Mustang."

She smiled sweetly at me. "He's on the phone right now so it will be a minute."

Hawkeye reorganized the already organized papers on her desk and glanced around the office. After spotting Breda, she shot him a stern look and I watched him stumble out of the office at record pace. Who knew he could move like that? So she wanted us to be alone – how strange. And uncomfortable. This can't be good.

Satisfied at the now empty status of the office, she began with a light, cheery tone completely contradictive to her usual frank manner, "So?"

I stared back at her in confusion. "So… what?"

Her cheery tone faltering a bit but maintained a brave front, "What's going on?"

"With…" All these vague, leading questions. What was her aim?

Her pleasant expression fell. Whatever her aim was she clearly had hoped to avoid spelling it out. Dropping back to her usual forthright demeanor, "With you and the General."

Ah, so that explains the cheery tone and evasive questioning. Time to redirect. What other option do I have? It's not like I even know what is going on between us. I mean I think I know. We did say we liked we other, but… yeah, sorry, Riza. "Oh that! I'm trying to fire a few peo…"

"Not that, I already know about that." Her clipped tone cut me off and signaled the end to her patience with gentle prying. "I mean what's going between you two personally."

Oh, shit. She was zeroing in and I don't have an answer. At any other time, I would talk to her about awkward social stuff. But this time… this time I may be treading on her territory. Even I could figure out that she cared for you. In what way, no one knows. I blinked back at her and wondered if I could pull off a vacant expression.

She seemed to take my pause as a non-response. Something she wasn't particularly happy about either. "The other day he guided you into his office; maybe escort is a better description."

I felt my face heat up at the remark.

"And there's that reaction from you again." She waited a moment to see if I was going break down and confess. With nothing from me she continued, "Then, you fled out of the office after your meeting with him. Ordinarily I wouldn't think twice about it, but then the General unexpectedly leaves shortly thereafter – ignoring my threat to shoot him. Later, he returns grinning like he had just stolen another of Havoc's would-be-girlfriends."

So you were smug about that. 'Too far too fast', my ass.

"And whenever I checked up on him for the rest of day, he seemed to be considering something. Normally, whenever I catch him wasting time like that he acts like he was doing something important; when we both know he wasn't. But yesterday… it was just different. Like the distraction was really important. Then, this morning, he arrives on time and tells me he has a meeting with you at three this afternoon. When I'm the one who does his scheduling. So, I repeat, what's going on?"

Riza's tone was nothing short of a demand. A quiet, scary demand that if anyone else heard it would swear it was merely a question. I tried to think of a response when I heard the phone slammed down onto its hanger in the other room. Quickly followed by a long, angry, muddled commentary.

And you thought I had an extensive vocabulary in cursing.

So you were off the phone now, but I still had to give an answer to Hawkeye. I don't know what to tell her. Should I just say what I think this is?

"Edward? Please talk to me."

I hated the pleading tone she made – it's like Al. When all demands and shouting failed, that tone broke my every last resolve. It made me want spill every ounce of information I had and quickly. I could feel the mixture of worry and guilt grinding its way around my stomach making me sick. Making me feel as if I had wronged the other in some grievous, unforgivable way. I want to tell her. I do. But…

"Well…"

I don't know if fortunate is the right word, but you decided to break up the conversation Hawkeye and I was having. Your door swung wide open and you leaned out bracing yourself on the doorframe.

"Lieutenant! Have you seen… Fullmetal, I was wondering if you were going to show up."

I stood there in front of Hawkeye's desk rooted. My eyes widen and the urge to run like hell ran through my thoughts like a news ticker. I missed the you from last night – the one who still irritated me but made up for it so nicely. Now you were just… well, acting like a General. I hate this side of you.

There nothing redeeming about it.

Gathering my thoughts, I managed a normal response in order to ease Hawkeye's suspicions, "Well, I said three, didn't I?"

I watched a predatory grin find its way to your face. So there you are.

"You did. Come in."

I began to walk towards the door when I felt Hawkeye's hand deftly grab onto my shirt's hem with a light tug. She gave me a false smile – and that's always bad. "Later, okay?"

"Uh, sure."

Quickly escaping Hawkeye's grasp, I followed you into your office watching that confident walk you've always possessed. Has there ever been a time when you weren't? Even last night, you were in complete control and I was so lost. And did that skirt-thingy have to be a part of the required uniform? What the hell does it do?

After you resettled behind your desk, and I was in my customary place fidgeting in front of your desk, I began to wonder if what I had prepared was enough. For the umpteenth time today. Last night's wasted effort circled back with renewed strength.

You know, this – I don't know – thing between us is grating at me. It's always been present but now I can't take it anymore. I hate second guessing myself. I hate being unsure. I hate not knowing. I hate wondering if this was the right action – the right phrase. And above all else, I hate this unbalanced feeling you create in me. It's like you practice it before I even arrive. Just look at a few moments ago. You come out stern, formal and all General-like then suddenly switch gears to personal and smile that way.

Before all this, I knew what to do. I was as confident as you always seem. I knew that my actions were right. Okay, so that's not entirely true. But I mostly knew. You have confused me more than anything and you seem to enjoy it.

"So, let's see it."

"Huh?"

You let out a small laugh again as an amused smirk spread across your face. "There really is only one way to keep your attention."

I didn't think my face could get this hot. How can words bring back such a feeling? The feeling of you holding me – touching me. With such clarity.

"The list of names. I can't believe that you actually supplied military accepted rationales."

I dropped my head to look into my bag to dig out the list – glad once again for my too long bangs. I knew I should retort back at you for that indignant remark, but… I was lacking any sense of conviction. Not with my face this hot. Instead, I focused on finding the freaking paper I spent all night typing. I really need to work on my organizational skills. I'd thought to bring in examples of the less than stellar work I wanted to eliminate. At the time, I believed this to be a brilliant move. To show you how embarrassing it was for the rest of us. Now, that my list of names and rationales are blended in with copies of this crappy work – it was only serving to make it harder to find my list.

This is taking a really long time.

Why is it that the most important things are the hardest to find?

Finally!

"Uh, here." I reached across your desk to hand the sheet of paper over to you. Normally I'd throw it, but… I was renewing my efforts. I was rewarded for my better behavior when we touched for the briefest of moments. Nothing more than passing contact and it sent a rush of heat like no other through my body.

This hold you have on me. Can I ever have the same hold on you? Probably not. I know that this is most likely a fleeting – I don't know romance? That sounds wrong. Ugh, focus. "The most common problem is sloppy results, which I defined for you as falsified/fictitious results. This can be proven by the inability to reproduce similar results using the same experiment. This fact should be noted in their performance file."

And there it was. I had practiced that last night so many times I was probably mumbling it in brief periods of rest. But it paid off, that was perfect!

"Hmm… what's the definition of pointless research?"

I was worried you wouldn't like that one. "That would be… research that was clearly written in order to only secure funds. For example…" I dug around in my bag for a moment looking for the right piece of crappy research in a pile of crappy research. "Here. This study looked into the backlash effect of transmuting gold which is illegal." Not that I haven't done that myself.

Your lips formed a genuine, amused smile at my example. Making me unexpectedly proud. I had actually laughed at it in the library. Out loud.

"And therefore cannot be researched. This is good. I can actually present this." The level of surprise in your voice deflated my momentary pride.

Didn't we talk about this late night? The disappointment in your words from years ago swelled in my memory. It hurt. I could hear the echoes of resentment rising in my own voice. My mind forming and endless tirade of fantastic insults just dying to escape. "I told you…"

"No need to get upset." You tried to play off the remark, "You don't usually make the effort to have your reports both understandable and legible."

"But I…"

That smirk reappeared on your face. "I wonder what changed."

Y-you were… but I was the… that's it. "You shit. You're such a smug, conniving bastard! I really…" I ran out of steam when I realized what you did. Everything clicked into place, making everything clear. You fucking tricked me! It was all there. The way you leaned forward on your hands, folded together with your chin resting on top, and that ever-present smirk on your face. Ever so carefully watching me. "Fuck you. I hate that just so you know."

The smirk widen into a pleased grin. "And that's why I think you're cute."

I really want to punch you. Why do you get such sadistic pleasure out of irritating me? Why the hell do I take it? I looked away toward the wall on the far right and crossed my arms over my chest. "Quit saying that."

"No, it suits you."

Aaand I've given you a new thing to annoy me with, haven't I? I can picture it now. Aw, calling Ed short isn't as much fun anymore. I know, I'll go with cute! "Why do enjoy pissing me off?"

You just grinned in response.

Yeah, figures. You never really do tell me anything. You seem to enjoy watching me struggle – trying to grasp concepts you already understand.

I'm suddenly very tired. "Are we done here?"

"Eager to leave?"

"I'm busy. And now I'm leaving."

I grabbed the bag weighed down by the example reports I brought in and turned to leave. I was trying to make a quick show of leaving in a huff since Hawkeye was already sensing that something was up. You never have liked my plans have you?

Sensing your presence was becoming a very useful skill. The warm touch of your hand on my left shoulder halted my forward movement. I closed my eyes to enjoy the small reassuring rub you began to make. So simple, but…

Hot air brushed over my neck as you whispered, "When can I see you?"

I almost dropped to the floor – my knees completely unprepared to bear my weight. My mind flooded with responses and naturally created nothing. Running my tongue to wet suddenly dry lips I managed, "H-how so?"

I could actually feel you smile as continued to nuzzle against my neck. "Ed, I want to start this. Do you know where I live?"

Do I know what! What do I say? "No."

"Is that a no to," your hands ran down my arms and tighten to lock me against your body, "this or to knowing where I live?"

Leaning against you to further close the distance between us, "To knowing where you live. Why are you asking this?" You feel so right.

"I thought you should know. How about Thursday around a half past six?"

Your arms loosened their hold and fell away, leaving me longing for their warmth. Turning around to see where you went to, I saw you standing back at your desk. Well, I guess that it makes sense. You know where I live. I just wished you told me instead of walking away. "It's fine."

"Good, meet me here."

"Huh?" I walked back to distance to your desk to take the folded paper from your hand. You would live in a nicer part of town. "Okay. Anything I should know?" It was better to know in advance, but I doubt you'd really tell me.

With the smirk firmly planted on your face, "Not that I can think of."

I nodded in response and wondered if I had been set up. After all, I know about your reputation and I've seen proof of it. Hell, I just experienced it.

I filed away the query for a later time. No sense in taxing an already weary mind.

As I headed out of your office and into the outer office, I realized that I had been trapped for the second time today. Hawkeye stood leaning against the wall beside the door I had just opened.

Quickly shoving the paper you gave me into my pocket, I gave out a startled, "Hello."

She moved her hands to signal for me to shut the door. I considered my options and decided that obeying her for the moment wouldn't hurt.

Once I had the door shut, "What's with the ambush?"

"I told you we'd talk later, so sit." She pointed to an empty chair beside her desk.

"Uh, I can't now. How about later?" Or never. Never works for this particular subject.

She eyed me suspiciously, "Okay… tonight. Meet me at Kate's at six."

"Uh, I don't…"

"Are you busy tonight?"

Not tonight. I never have plans. Having plans for the evening required one to have personal – not professional - friends or dates. I had neither. Well, then there was Thursday. "Not really."

"Then six."

"Yeah, sure." I tried to sound hopeful despite the feeling of dread consuming my mind.

Only once I finally escaped the confines of the office, and breathed the free air of the hallway, did I understand just how much my life has changed. A few days ago, I barely made contact with anyone around me with the exception of the visits from Kain to see the dogs and the occasional lunch with Riza. Now, I have what can only be described as a social life.

While it's nice to have something to do for a change, I'm not sure I like where this is headed.

Publicly, I portrayed a very outgoing personality, but, in reality, I had never been an overly social person. Most of the time, it was just me and Al. We had established a mutual understanding between us that suited us both well. We knew the boundaries – when to push and when to back off. Even when I was with him all of the time, it didn't seem suffocating like it did with a lot of other people. It was nice.

Now, I don't know. I do like Riza and I certainly… better not get started there. It's just so confusing not knowing where I stand – what to say. I'm continually at a loss. It's frustrating a hell. It makes me miss Al.

I returned home to be greeted by a quartet of yapping dogs. Two of them were leaving today, the light brown one and the white one – I never bothered to name them. Kain was stopping by around five to a half past five tonight to get them. I looked at them both and realized that they really needed a bath. How did they get so dirty? I kept everything else clean.

I was fortunate enough to have a single story apartment with a small yard attached. Nothing really – but large enough for me to chase the dogs around outside to take their baths. I had removed/killed most of the plant life long ago – a fact that the landlord is going to love finding out. Now it was just a square of grass jointed onto a small patio for shade. It was more like a square of unused living space that was placed between the second bedroom and kitchen. It was entirely possible that it was once a third bedroom or den.

Still, it got a decent amount sun and had a faucet connection outside. That was all I needed. Plus, it gave the dogs a place to run outside when I was away, since I had placed in a doggie door of sorts next to the doorway outside. Alchemy can do wonders for home remodeling.

After fighting with the dogs to get them washed and then dried off, I was ready for a shower of my own. As I put the supplies away, I watched them roll around in the wet grass and wrestle around with each other. A sight that is quite funny for pint sized dogs, but also readily explained how they got so dirty. Drying them off again, I chased them back into the house and away from the grass before the white one turned green.

After the necessary shower, I searched my ever organized room for something suitable to wear for my dinner/interrogation with Riza. A brief dig through the pile of 'presentable' clothing turned up a pair of dark blue denim pants and the rejected black tank top from yesterday.

Clothing decided upon, I became deeply engaged in a game the dogs were quite fond of called "hide my shoes" when Kain arrived. He usually looks so worried or nervous, but for some reason animals brought out a different side to him. Like today. The person on my doorstep wasn't flustered, or staring intently at his shoes, but energetic.

"Hi, I'm here to get Jackie and Cliff. They're ready, aren't they?"

He's so demanding when it came to them. "Look for yourself."

I continued to search for the missing boot as Kain inspected the dogs. He picked them up and methodically inspected the two looking at their fur, paws, breath. It is really amazing how through his investigation was. Finished, he patted the remaining two on the head. "Thank you for giving them a bath, but…"

Here it comes, I always forget something on Kain's dog care list.

"Jackie needs her nails cut. They're far too long."

Gathering all the sarcasm I could muster, "Oh, pardon me."

"I'm just letting you know. I trust you with these guys and I want to make sure that they're cared for."

"Hey, it's free care and they're off the street. Even my degree of dog care is better than what they had." Honestly, you'd think I was locking them in cages and leaving them in a dark room for days on end. Nails. Who cut the dog's nails when it was a stray?

"True, it's just that… well I worry… I want…"

Kain's broken speech heralded an introduction to his more nervous and submissive self. I've been told repeatedly that my blunt manner of speech scares the crap out of some people. My response to this complaint was for the offended individual to grow a backbone but that hadn't gone over well. "Kain relax. I'm frustrated right now. Pack up Jack and… what did you call the other one?"

"It's Jack-ie and Cliff." Ah, so he can be huffy about the dog's gender.

"Yeah, whatever. Just pack them up and send them on their way. I have to be somewhere." I paused for a moment as my conscious whined in a tone that sounded an awful lot like Al, 'Brother'. Oh fine. I kept a small cabinet of dog supplies near the backyard door. I dug out the doggie nail clipper and handed it over to Kain which was as much of an apology as you can expect.

Now where in hell have they taken the boot?

Kain frowned at my brush off, but appreciated the gesture. He went to work on the white one's nails. Once the clipping ceased, he began to straighten up the animals once again for delivery. In a tone that was meant for me to hear despite my exit from the main room, Kain asked Scruffy how he can put up with me. Being Scruffy he probably just tilted his head and panted. I think the dog finds human speech strange at times and other times I think he completely understands.

Locating the errant boot at last, I walked back out to see Kain off and get ready to head out myself. "So, all set?"

Back to his upbeat self, "Yep."

"You haven't found any more have you?" Please tell me that Kain's personal goal of saving every homeless dog has come to a point.

"No, why? Do these guys bother you?"

"Not really. It's just that four is quite a bit, you know?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry it took so long this time." His eyes cast downwards again as if I had reprimanded him.

"It's alright, but try not to do it again." Please don't tear up. I'm not being mean. I just want to place a limit, since it's hard to care for that many dogs.

"Oh, okay. I'll go drop these guys off."

I shut the door after Kain's departure and breathed a sigh of relief. He can be such a handful to deal with – just like Al. He was so sensitive at times. Still, two dogs were much easier to deal with. And the place should be a bit cleaner. I made a mental note to spend some time tomorrow fixing the place up.

Glancing at the standing clock, it read a quarter 'til six. I better get moving. You are never late to a meeting with Hawkeye – with Riza it is a different story.

Riza and I would sometimes plan lunch "dates" to get away from everyone else and catch up. We made a strange pair since she was so disciplined and orderly and I'm… well, I'm not. But she made a great person to confide in for those very qualities. However, I don't think this meeting is with Riza, but Hawkeye. Hawkeye is the scary, strict Lieutenant that made even higher ranking officers than her fear her – you included. Because of this, I'm nervous about this little meeting.

Fortunately, the café wasn't too far from home and I made it there just as the clock tower struck six. Hawkeye had already arrived and taken a table along the side of the café where the noise from the front door was more muted.

"Hey, Hawkeye." Her lips pulled downwards a little at the name. Maybe this was a meeting with Riza.

Her tone light and informal, "Hello, Ed. Please sit."

The softer tone of voice and the use of 'Ed' confirmed that this was a meeting with Riza. I felt substantially more relaxed. Pulling out the chair to sit, "So, what's up? Don't we usually do this at lunch?"

She smiled at the comment. "I know, but someone didn't show until three this afternoon. I wanted to discuss this away from the office."

"Then why did you…"

She waved her hand as if mentally brushing my comment aside. "I know, I know. I wanted to know what's going on and the secretaries had me riled up from lunch."

"What did they do?"

"Oh, I overheard their conversation in the cafeteria and overreacted. They were talking about how…," she quickly scanned the café, "the General wasn't acting like himself. I guess one of them went on a date with him, but he seemed distracted. The one that dated him, I assume, said that he wasn't at all like she'd thought he'd be."

The waitress came by to deliver two cups of tea. Riza must have placed the order before I arrived. I waited for the girl to leave. "So, what's the big deal? This isn't like you at all."

"I know, but they mentioned specific things like how he'd forget her name, or he wasn't paying attention to her. Then, I thought about you and your interaction with… him and it just sparked some suspicion. Back to the reason we're here, what were you going say back at the office?"

"That… um, well, you see." I knew that I was fumbling for words, but I wasn't sure how much I should tell her. Amazing how easy it is to be wary when guilty tones aren't eating away at your conscious.

"Ed, you know you can trust me."

What is up with this trust thing? First, you were going on about trust and now Riza? "I know. It's just that… well, this is different than what I usually talk about."

"How so?"

I was making Riza pry the answers from me without meaning to. I knew it was frustrating but… I decided to be daring, "Um, well, what's your relationship with… him? Is that what we're going by?"

"That would be best."

I waited for her to continue, but she remained silent. "You're not going to answer that?"

"No, I was just thinking about how to word it."

"Sounds like you're buying time."

She gave me an insulted look before answering, "I'd say that beyond being his babysitter and bodyguard… that I… possess a level of concern for him."

I watched her take a sip from her cup. She seemed content with that response. "If that's all you're giving me, then I don't have much to say."

She set the cup down and placed a frustrated look on her face. "Ed…"

"Look, you're asking for some rather personal information. So, either you talk or we're done here." I needed to know where she stood with you. If this was her territory… I didn't know what I should do. Back off?

She let out a heavy sigh and stared intently at her cup swirling the contents. I took the opportunity to drink from mine as well – barely tea quite appropriate for a summer evening. After a short while she started, "Fine. I'm loath to admit it, but I've always seen him as a sort of stupid older brother. I worry about him. More than I should in fact."

Now wasn't that interesting. I knew that there was a connection between them, but I was afraid of what it was. If it had been, well similar to my connection with you, then… I really don't like the obvious choice. After all, she has a longer history with you than I do. I bet she knows more about you too. It would have been the only right thing to do.

But now that I know it isn't.

Feeling the weight of worry lift from my mind, I could actually think about what to do next. I guess I could tell her. My brain feels like it is on overdrive. There has been too much happening today and on too little sleep.

"Well, Ed, tell me."

I played with my hands for a moment and watched a few other customers. There was a little girl with a large, stuffed teddy bear standing at the counter with her mother. An elderly couple wasn't too far from us and probably the closest customers to us in the café. So, is it safe to tell her?

I looked back at her. She looked so disheartened just waiting there – looking like I didn't trust her.

Oh, alright!

Letting out a sigh, "Listen, you can't tell this to anyone."

I've never seen her perk up so quickly. Her brown eyes widened in interest as she leaned forward on the table so that I could speak in a lower tone.

"It all started back when I was working on the new test format."

"The one that just went to the review board?"

"That one. You remember that I went to talk to him about the status of test?"

She nodded in response.

"Well he started to treat me… differently. Before he would keep me away, but now… he actually began to touch me."

She suddenly sat back in her chair and her eyes amazingly large.

I realized that this was the wrong impression, "Not like that!"

The elderly couple turned to look in our direction as well as a few other customers. I smiled and waved at them before motioning for Riza to lean forward again. "Like at the office."

"Oh, the whole 'escort' thing."

Oh, yes, I'm so glad that she continues to refer to that incident that way. "Shut up. And yes. He started being nice to me – it was weird. Then, well… then that day when I talked to him about the test things changed even more."

We both looked around one more time and probably drew more attention to ourselves for it. Amazing how terrible we are at covert conversation when it is for personal – not military – reasons.

I continued, "Remember how he left shortly after that meeting and returned smug?" She smiled at the description and nodded. "He followed me to the library and… well, he… he kissed me."

"What!"

I didn't expect Riza to make such a reaction.

With the word echoing in my ears, I gave another greeting to the people around us. I nodded at Riza for us to take our leave before we were asked to. She quickly gathered up her things as I paid off the small bill. We rushed out of the café to small congregation area. There were several throughout Central. Just small patches of land decorated with trees and shrubs and benches available for sitting. I think the papers referred to their creation as part of the City Beautification Project.

She pulled me aside to a more remote area heavily shaded by trees and selected a bench to sit on. "Wait, let me get this. He kissed you – the biggest womanizer I have ever seen or know – kissed you."

"Why is that so hard to believe?" I felt a little hurt at that comment.

"Because it's R… him."

"Well, then let me finish."

"There's more."

"Yep."

"Continue," her tone astonished.

"That same day he came over to my place… don't give me that look." Riza had started to make a sour face and scooted a bit back from me in a show of distaste. "To talk." She visible relaxed. "He wanted to date me."

Riza apparently did not believe this either. "Date you?"

Exasperated, "YES."

She shifted her head to the right side with a quizzical look and unwittingly imitated Scruffy. "Go on."

"Then, this afternoon we made plans."

As if to confirm my statement, she asked, "For a date."

I nodded.

"With him."

I nodded again.

"You sure about that part?"

"Yes, what's with you? You drag me out here forcibly and then act like I'm lying to you. Why would I?"

"It's just rather incredible don't you think?"

I shrugged, then with a small pout, "It's not that strange."

She turned to give me her profile and seem to absorb all of the information I had just given her. I feared the worse as Riza quickly sorted through the provided information. I've always said she can be frightfully insightful.

Apparently satisfied with her conclusion, she turned back to me which her eyes wide in the clearest display of elation I had ever seen. "Oh, I see. Not many people get to actually date their first crush."

I felt the blush rising on my face and I quickly dropped my head to hide behind my hair. I mumbled back, "Shut up."

She laughed, "You're so cute. I got it exactly right, didn't I?"

From beneath my hair, I mustered up all of the fury I could. "I'm not cute!"

She moved to get closer to me and waited for me to raise my head up so I could look at her eye to eye. Her tone soft almost motherly, "Are you sure about this?"

I started to look away.

"Edward?"

Hesitantly, I made my response. "I-I think so."

"Okay then." She moved closer to my left side and placed her arm over my shoulders to give me a slight hug by tugging me towards her body. "If he tries anything, tell me about it and I'll shoot him."

Was she really approving of this? She seemed to accept what I had told her. She didn't seem bothered by the obvious at all, which was really weird. I had thought that some comment would be made about gender, but… Maybe Riza is more open-minded than I thought. In that case, maybe she can help me out a bit. I'm so socially stupid it's ridiculous. Plus, a woman should know what kind of tricks you might pull.

I smiled and laughed at the thought, "Okay."

"Well then, it looks like I'm going to need to give you some ground rules on dating."

A/N: Review!

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