She thought she may have been waiting for the world to fall apart around her ears, or for some seismic shift, fireworks, rapture, that she would never be the same again.

But no such drama came. No rapture, no world's end, no pink tinted view or rosy romantic hue. As the days, and then weeks, of summer passed, it was a feeling of comfort, of peace, that seemed to engulf her. Of ease, of friendship, of some kind of silent bond of familiarity. His easy smile and twisting smirk seemed to fill her dreams. They talked, and talked, and talked some more, and she found so much of herself within him, yet so many things to discover (and debate). She had been nervous at first, but the weight of his hand in hers was now a comfort, and the soft touch of his lips against hers became a highlight of her days.

Her father, of course, remained clueless to the entire affair. She doubted he would have wanted to know, but the fear that he would exile Roy for daring to go anywhere near her stopped her from being so forward about it with him. He had continued to push work for Roy to do, and their study dates became far more one sided than term-time, Roy often sitting deep in thought, puzzling over formulae and algebraic methods, Riza stretched out next to him with a book in hand. Some nights, her father insisted that he worked with him in his study, and Riza sullenly made herself hot chocolate to soothe her irritation. He balanced working for his aunt with the ever increasing amount of studying her father laid upon him, and Riza had won herself a few hours at the local library as an assistant to pass the time. As summer was drawing to a close, and the final school year fast approaching, three months with Roy seemed to have drifted by in a flash, and a part of her wondered what she had done with her time before he had turned up at her door.

Her father was out of town - he had told her very little about why, and annoyingly, Roy had informed her it was to meet with another scientist. Riza almost balked; her father, socialising? Impossible. She had been somewhat enjoying the peace, having baked herself an entire batch of cookies that had since disappeared, and was halfway through a good book when the lights cut out with a loud thunk, and the radio she had so been enjoying ground to a halt. Her phone told her it was exactly 10.30pm, but of course, the internet had gone down with it.

She hated the dark. She had done for as long as she could remember. Her father called it an irrational fear; Riza called it paranoia. She could feel the panic beginning to rise in her, phone light her only guide as she peered at the electrical panel. Nothing looked different. She tried a switch, and to her complete dismay, nothing happened. She could handle this, she told herself. She was Riza Hawkeye, for crying out loud. But even Riza Hawkeye had limits, and the thought of a night alone, in the dark, was her breaking point.

And so, she called him. Over the noise of the bar, she babbled something about the electrics, something about being alone, and something about needing the lights to come back on. She was sure she had spoken at double speed, and certain she had kept her voice as calm as ever, but he knew. He always did. Riza wanted to be annoyed that he did, that she was so easily read, but his promise of coming over to look was one she couldn't say no to at this moment. And pride be damned, she could have kissed him when he appeared on her doorstep.

"Well, I don't think I'm going to be fixing anything. Looks like the whole street is out."

He was right. It was only now she realised the entire street was in darkness, her earlier panic having removed

"It was all dark as I was driving up. They're gonna take a while to fix it."

"Oh, I don't believe this. And of course, my father is away. Typical."

"This sudden neediness is very unlike you, Miss Hawkeye."

"I am not needy." The very word grated on her.

"Are you scared of the dark?"

"I am not scared of the dark." She pouted indignantly, folding her arms. "I worry about what might be in the dark." Roy's laugh did nothing to help her mood, and she huffed once more, glancing out at the darkened street before sighing irritably. "Don't we pay taxes so this doesn't happen? I mean, it's not asking for much!"

"You should tell them you are afraid of the dark and you might get an emergency pass. Your own personal engineer to fix it for you." She scowled at him, his grin irritating her last nerve. This was not happening. "You could always stay with me, instead."

That caught her off guard. She looked at him, expecting to see the boyish grin widen, teasing her, pushing her buttons, but instead met a genuine smile. "With you?"

"Well, obviously at my aunt's. But yes, with me."

"Oh… n-no, no…" Unable to think exactly why shouldn't, she faltered. "I couldn't, Roy."

"Why not? My aunt and the girls have been asking to meet you. There's plenty of space." The grin appeared again, and he shrugged. "I'll take the sofa if that is what is bothering you."

"No, that's not…" She trailed off, glancing to the dark house, the soulless windows pitch black in the night. She didn't want to spend the the night in the dark lone, and her father was away for the weekend. What was stopping her? The fear of meeting Roy's aunt? Of being completely beyond her comfort zone? Of even sleeping under the same roof as him?

"You'd prefer to stay here in the dark, alone?"

Well, inner Riza contemplated, it's either dealing with meeting the in-laws or that. "Alright. You've got a point."

"I know I do."

She rolled her eyes, turning on her heel and disappearing up the stairs. "Fine. Stay here, I'm going to get a bag."

Roy grinned in response, pulling out his phone as he leant against the door, and she heard the faint sound of conversation: Roy informing, she suspected, his aunt of her impending arrival and stay. The very thought of it made her stomach flip; she wasn't very good with new people at the best of times, never mind Roy's family. In fact as she piled overnight supplies into her rucksack, she wondered just what on earth she was thinking of. But the alternative, of a dark night alone in the crumbling house, with it's creaks and cracks, with not even music to distract her, was far worse, she reckoned. She may never have seen her father some nights, but as least she knew there was someone here. She would calm down. This would be a good thing. Positive mental attitude, Riza.

Her nerves, however, had not calmed by the time Roy pulled up on the street, neon signs bright in the night's darkness, and the buzz of bar patrons around them. She stuck close to him as they walked, ducking under a train bridge and down a cobbled street, filled with bars and noise. They dodged the crowd of drunken men, Riza flinching at the inebriated yelling, and headed around the back of the building.

"I've never been down this end of town this late at night." She cast a glance back over her shoulder, watching the group of men once more. "Well, I don't really come down this part of town ever, but especially not at night. My father says this is where you read about all the time in the papers."

"We don't bite…much. Besides, the media love a good story. Nothing to be afraid of down here." Roy sauntered along next to her, leading her down an alleyway, to an old door with a lamp casting a warm shadow across the steps.

"It is loud though, isn't it?"

"It's lively. I don't know how you sleep in the silence. Nothing says 'sleep tight' like the sound of police sirens and drunken arguments." He fiddled with the key, muttering under his breath as he fought with it, before the lock gave way and he pushed through the door. The immediate smell of homemade food and burning incense hit her, leading her in like a warm welcome as she stepped over the threshold, and into the home.

"Make yourself at home. There's food on the go if you are hungry." Roy gestured towards the stovetop, slinging his rucksack onto the dining table.

"No, I'm alright…" She glanced around the small kitchen, eyes darting. It was small, with an archway leading off to a living room, and a staircase twisting upwards. Her gaze fell to the pile of clean dishes awaiting sorting, and the large pot of food on the stove top that smelt so good. The layer of photographs and letters that covered the refrigerator, topped with bright post-it notes of reminders. A young Roy beaming at her from a battered photo frame on the microwave, hair slicked back and school uniform pristine. The pile of mismatched clothes high in the basket, perched on end of the ironing board. Magazines and odd nicknacks scattered across the living room adjoined to it, with colourful throws and pillows scattered about. The over-full hangers at the back of the door, jackets and scarves fighting for space, and the shoe rack that spilled out onto the floor.

And she felt a painful, sudden yearn for everything this was; a longing she couldn't place, a jealousy she couldn't name, for the warmth the room exuded and the love that the clutter of family life around her screamed. An overwhelming desire to drag her father here, and show him everything that he had denied her. This was what a home was supposed to look like. Not evening meals alone, and dusty, empty spare rooms that never saw the light of day. The intensity of her sudden revelation left her reeling; she hadn't come here to suddenly confront her upbringing or her father's questionable parenting, yet it here it was, straight in front of her.

"It isn't really much compared to Casa del Hawkeye, I know, but it's home." She looked back to find Roy's dark eyes on hers, and the flicker of pride in his voice was more than evident.

"Actually…" She licked her lips, nervous. "I was just thinking how much more lovely this is than Casa del Hawkeye." He raised an eyebrow, curious, and she continued, glancing at him sheepishly. "My house is bigger, you are right. But it's empty. Cold. Dark and dingy. This…this is a home. A home with a family. A home with a lot of love in it."

"Oh…" Her words dawned on him, and his face fell, the true meaning of what she was saying obviously painful to him. He had seen her family, or the lack of it. "Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"You are fine." She shrugged, giving him an innocent smile. "Part and parcel of being the daughter of a reclusive genius with a dead wife." He fell silent, and for once, looked genuinely lost for words. Maybe the dead wife bit was too much. "Don't you have sisters? It's quite for a busy house."

"The girls will be out for a while." He jabbed his finger towards a heavy door behind her, from which Riza realised she could hear the sound of music playing, the steady beat of whatever song was playing thumping away in the background. "Friday nights are busy around here. Although, my aunt might make an appearance. Security system will tell her there's someone up here, she'll be skulking around someplace."

"Don't sound so overjoyed at the thought." The gruff voice behind her made her jump, and as she spun around, Riza was suddenly face to face with the same kind eyes that she had grown so very fond of on Roy, only on a much larger (and much more intimidating) scale. The woman towered above her, as broad as she was tall, heels elevating her even further, with masses of dark hair that curled down her back, and a face full of makeup, that creased in a smile as her eyes met the younger woman's.

"You must be Riza." She could only nod response, and the older woman chuckled, looking her over. "It is lovely to finally meet you. Roy's not stopped talking about you."

A quick glance over to the now pink-faced Roy told her this was the truth, and she felt her own embarrassment grow, straightening her top. "All good, I hope, Mrs Mustang."

A gruff laugh was her response, as Chris tutted. "Mrs Mustang was my mother. It's Chris. And as if he could say anything other than good."

"Oh…sorry…Chris." She shuffled, nervous and uncomfortable, and Chris laughed once more, this time kinder.

"You've lost power?" She nodded, hands still fidgeting with the hem of her jumper, and the kind smile on the other woman remained as she spoke again. "You don't need to stand on ceremony in here. We don't care much for are welcome anytime, and I expect you to make yourself at home. Any friend of Roy's is part of the furniture here, never mind a girlfriend. He's never brought a girl home before, we've all been waiting for the day. Although, the girls may bombard you a little tomorrow morning. They've got some good stories they could tell you, though. "
"Are you quite finished?"

Chris rolled her eyes, turning to the huffing Roy, who had gone from sweet-pea pink, to crushing crimson in a remarkable time. "Am I embarrassing you, Roy-boy?"

"I just don't think Riza needs to hear all of this on her first meeting with you. Besides, don't you have a bar you're supposed to be tending?"

The raised eyebrow told Riza that Chris saw through the feeble excuses he had tried, but she gave in nonetheless, glancing back towards the heavy door and stairs down to the bar. "Mh, you are reprieved for now. It's been busy tonight. Had your friend and his father in again."

The change in Roy was instant, and his voice was a snarl. "Kimblee? Again? You should've said, I-"

"Nothing I couldn't handle, don't worry yourself."

"But you know that I said I'd deal-"

"Roy-boy." The firm insistence in her voice was clear, before shes nodded towards Riza. "Go and enjoy your evening." His stare turned into a defiant scowl, but Chris dismissed him with a wave of her hand, disappearing through the heavy door. "Riza, clip him over the ear if he misbehaves. I find it works well."

"She treats me as though I am five years old." Roy's huff matched the scowl that remained on his face, staring after his aunt long after the door had closed.

"You aren't?" Riza feigned innocence, Roy's scowl dropping as he pulled a face.

" Har, har." He kicked off his shoes, adding them to the behemoth pile, before beckoning her to follow him, trudging up the narrow staircase, Riza following after him, pausing on the first landing to glance down the hallway. Fairy lights strung the length of the dim hallway, and clothes were scattered across the hallway, a mixture of perfumes in the air. "That's the girls' domain. You don't want to be going down there. Last person that did didn't come back."

"I am a girl, in case you failed to notice." She glanced down again, before following him again up the stairs. "You don't live down here?"

"Nah, my room is on the top floor. Peace and quiet, away from the chaos." They climbed another set of stairs, this time to a much smaller corridor, and Roy neatly kicked a large oak door open, gesturing for her to follow him before kicking the door shut again. A large double bed filled most of the room, tucked up against the corner well, and a desk took up the other side, piled high with books and notes, Riza recognising many of the books as her father's. Posters covered the walls, a mixture of music and of sport, and an overlarge TV balanced precariously on top of wooden dressers at the end of the bed.

"It's much tidier than I was expecting."

"Ha! Excuse you." Roy stuck his tongue out, before flopping down onto bed, patting the space next to him. "Well, since I don't have to go back to work. Are you gonna join me then? I've got every movie you could want to watch. I'll even throw in free popcorn. Or do you want me to take the sofa downstairs after all?"

Riza giggled, kicking her shoes off and dropping her own bag to the floor, before sliding onto the bed next to him, curling into him as he wrapped an arm around her. "I suppose I can't have you sleeping on a sofa when there's so much room here."

"How very thoughtful of you. Letting me have my own bed. Or is that just because you're afraid of the dark?"

"Maybe the sofa is a good idea after all…"

"Touchy, aren't we?" The sing-song tease in his voice drove her mad, but she refused to bite, lest he know just how easily he could get under her skin. She remained tight lip, the earlier conversation in the kitchen still in her mind.

"What your aunt said…about Kimblee…" She felt him bristle at the change of topic, at the name, and part of her instantly regretted bringing it up at all. The laughter in his face disappeared, replaced by a stoic frown.

"Like she said. Nothing she can't handle." He forced a laugh that did not meet his eyes. "My aunt can be more intimidating than all of the men that walk into that bar. Seriously, you don't want to get on her bad side. If she says she has got it in hand, then it's definitely in hand." He looked at her, the feigned laughter falling away at her persistent gaze, dark eyes growing serious and a defeated sigh slipping from him. "Fine. They're a royal pain in the backside."

"That goes without saying."

"The Kimblees are extremely wealthy, as I'm sure you've gathered by now. Zolf is just next in a long line of millionaires. His father is a hedge fund banking, politics dabbling, city sleazing millionaire. He's on the city council too, some big wig in the world of money and corruption."

"Again, I cannot say I am surprised." That earned a chuckle from him, and he relaxed somewhat as he spoke.

"The girls that live here, most of them came here because they couldn't stay where they were. There's a lot of assholes in this world…controlling men who get their extra shot of testosterone by pushing women around. My aunt, she started there, running away from an awful situation, and to cut a long story short, wanted to give help where she felt it was lacking. She ended up taking girls in, and getting them a job at the bar she worked at. The woman that ran it, she had done it for her, as a refuge for women who needed somewhere to go, and a way to make money. We aren't a brothel," he cut in, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "there is a firm 'look but don't touch' rule, not unless one of the girls particularly decides otherwise. My aunt decided she wanted to do the same, to provide the same opportunity to the women who needed it. But obviously, a bar and somewhere to stay in a large city such as Central is expensive."

Riza nodded, the pieces beginning to knit together in her head. "So she needed a loan?"

"Something like that. Obviously, most banks wouldn't touch the idea with a bargepole, so she had to look elsewhere, and that is where the generous Kimblee Senior enters. Anything to get the scourge of young, penniless women off the streets of Central." The flicker of sarcasm intertwined with every word.

"So your aunt is in debt to them?"

"Mhm. And when you raise the interest rate and play God with someone's livelihood, the debt only increases. He likes to come in from time to time, to remind us how grateful we should be for his bloody money, and to demand his share. It's why Zolf takes such great pleasure in rubbing it in my face. He knows his father could have us out on the street with a snap of his grubby fingers. Of course, if the Amestrian government believed in supplying the good people of this country with a decent welfare system, rather than rewarding corruption and funding their expansion plans, it wouldn't be as much of a problem."

Silence fell as Riza processed what he had said, brows knitted in concentration. The animosity between the boys was more than understandable now, and her loathing of Zolf J Kimblee seemed to grow with each passing moment.

"That's why I need to make something of myself." He was no longer speaking for her sake, his eyes someplace distant, the usual cockiness absent and replaced by the quiet, vulnerable voice of a young man being forced to play a move in someone else's game. "To pay them off and get rid of them, for her. And for the girls, they're like sisters to me. It doesn't have to be millions, just enough. And then I'll change it for everyone else, bring in welfare and support, build better housing and create jobs and opportunities for those that need it, and clear out the corruption that seems to have ensnared our government." He stopped, suddenly realising that she was still watching him, and the pink tinge of embarrassment from earlier returned. "Well…that's what I dream I'd do, anyway. I know that it sounds like a child's dream."

"I think it's a wonderful dream." His eyes seemed to light up at her affirmation, and a shy smile crept onto his face. "I think it's just, and fair and…right. Plus, it's nice to see you so passionate about something." She paused to think, mulling over her words before she spoke "You know, my father…well, you've seen the house. He doesn't exactly use the money that he has and I am the sole heir to the entire thing. There's a lot of it sitting in a bank account-"

"No." The stark response caught her by surprise, and she immediately balked at his response.

"Why not? It's better being put to good use than sitting in a virtual account!"

"Because that's your money. For you."

"So surely then it is mine to do with what I see fit then?"

"Oh, absolutely. But if you gave me it, I'd give you it back. Over, and over, and over again. Even if you gave it all to me, it's still your money." He was smiling, and the casual dismissal annoyed her more than she had expected. "Your money is not for paying off my debt."

"Well, if we are being as picky, it isn't your debt."

"Mh, but it is."

"Double standards, I see. You are so pig-headedly stubborn, do you know that?"

"I prefer tenacious, personally." He curled a strand of her hair between his finger, eyes fixed as he twisted it. "If you want something in life, you earn it. That's how I was raised." Her favourite little smirk spread across his face. "I wanted your approval and I earned it, didn't I?"

"You are earning my approval, Mr Mustang. It's an ongoing project." She felt the annoyance begin to melt away, and cool acceptance of his stubborn reply replace it. So the studying wasn't about showing off after all. It wasn't even about getting to her. This was something much bigger. The realisation made her heart swell, and she felt herself instinctively moving closer to him, snuggling into the warmth of him. "You're a good person, you know, Roy. Not such an ugly, arrogant pig after all."

"But still cocky?" The very tone of his voice answered that one.

"I reserve my judgement. But you have a big heart, most importantly. All that scowling and smirking is just a clever facade and you aren't fooling me. Not after that ambitious speech just now. "

"Well, it is family first, isn't it?" He lay back with a lazy sigh, ease returning once more. "You do anything for the people you love, that's the golden rule."

Riza leant on her elbows, raising an eyebrow. "Is it now? Well, lucky for those you love, mh? To have someone so passionately believe in that."

He chuckled at her words, and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head, lips tickling her ear as he replied. " You should know by now, I'd do anything for you."

She hummed at his words, a mixture of delight and surprise, and raised large eyes to meet his gaze. Something unspoken passed between them; a mutual understanding as the last of her inhibitions seemed to melt at his words, as the trust she had so fiercely kept for herself began to slip from her fingers. She met his lips with her own, delicately at first, but quickly growing heavy, and she broke free to bring a finger to the soft stubble of his top lip, halting him in his tracks. "Anything for me?"

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Anything."

" Well…turns I'm hungry after all. That stew smelt nice." She giggled Roy's annoyed huff, shifting as he pulled himself from her, and from the bed, muttering under his breath as he headed towards the door. "You did say anything!"