A/N: This is meant to take place about a week after Riza joins Roy's office in East City. Keep that in mind while you read, and it'll make sense.
Also, this week, I pick up the FMA State Military coffee mug I ordered two months ago. I am so excited, I may hug the store owner before taking the mug to the nearest Tim Hortons to have it filled.
I do not own FMA.
Nine - Unknown Past
"You're selling the house?"
Brown eyes scanning the columns of the newspaper in front of her, Riza nodded absently. "The deed was transferred to me and stayed in my name while I was Ishval." She paused, picking up a pen and circling a tiny advertisement in red ink. "I have no need for the house myself; it's too far out of the way for a practical commute to work, and besides . . . ." She gave him a sidelong glance. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you how many memories are there."
Leaning against the front of his desk, Roy folded his arms. "No, you don't. But I would think those memories are why you'd want to hang on to the place." He watched as she circled another ad. "Where are you living now?"
"There's a sweet old woman on Fifth Street who rents out a room to people new in the city until they can find something better. It's a nice place, but . . . ." She gave a rare, small smile. "I just want someplace that's . . . my own." She looked over to him, the smile slipping away. "That's not so wrong; Father would understand."
He picked up the smile where she'd left off. "I'm sure he would." Crossing the space between their desks, he took a seat in the chair next to hers. "Want some help to look? I know the city better than you, after all."
Seven of her first nine prospects for potential apartments had been complete strikeouts. Seated in a quiet corner of the base cafeteria, all but ignoring the cup of tea by her elbow, Riza pored over the notes she'd taken while viewing the last two. Peace and quiet was a preference, and both apartments were in the same residential neighbourhood close to Headquarters. Access to grocers came next, parking not really a concern . . . . Hmm. So it came down to a choice.
"Hey! Hawkeye!"
She looked up to find Roy coming toward her, accompanied by older man. Getting to her feet, she snapped to attention. "Hello, sir. What brings you here?"
The dark-haired alchemist nodded toward the bespectacled man beside him. "I thought I'd bring this gentleman to meet you, about your apartment hunt. He's been around the block a few times; he knows what to look for."
The gentleman in question, waved away her salute. "At ease, young lady, at ease. Allow me to introduce myself." He held out a hand with a beaming smile. "I'm Lieutenant-General Grumman."
Offering a polite smile, Riza accepted the proffered hand. "Pleased to meet you, sir. Would the two of you care to join me?"
Taking their seats around the table, Grumman studied the notes, adjusting his glasses. "Hmm. These are fairly detailed . . . very promising accommodations, too. You certainly know what you're looking for." He looked up. "So what's holding you back from making a decision?"
"As you said, sir, they're both very promising," she began. "Both have an equal share of pros and cons, both conform to key preferences that I have, and they're both close by. I just haven't decided which one I like more."
"I see . . . ." Rubbing at his moustache in thought, Grumman looked over the notes again. "Did you meet with any of the tenants near the apartments you looked at?"
Riza blinked, puzzled. ". . . No, sir."
"I suggest you do." He set the papers back on the table with a knowing smile. "You may find friends, even networking contacts living right next door to you . . . or you may find people who are utterly unbearable and make your time in the building one you'd rather forget."
Nodding in confirmation, Riza gathered her notes together. "Thank you, sir. I'll take your advice into consideration."
"The pleasure's mine, my dear." Beaming once again, Grumman indicated the row of drink dispensers beside the cafeteria kitchen window. "Now, perhaps you wouldn't mind getting an old man a fresh cup of coffee to keep him going through the work day?"
She couldn't help but smile in return. "Of course, sir."
Roy watched her walking away, smirking to himself. "You played that rather well, sir. And you got her to smile at that. Even I can barely manage that on my best day."
"It'll come in time," Grumman mused, before turning to the younger man with suspiciously narrowed eyes and a stage whisper. "Wipe that smug little smile off your face, Roy. You knew, didn't you!"
"I remembered her telling me that neither of her parents spoke of relatives," Roy said, shrugging innocently. "I got curious, and did a little digging . . . I was quite surprised to find your name in her mother's family tree."
Grumman's eyes turned back to the young woman in question. ". . . I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tell her about this. I'm not sure how she'll react to find out she's working directly under her grandfather. She's lived her whole life without the knowledge and it hasn't hurt her. I'm worried she might find it . . . strange."
"I have no intention of telling her, sir, believe me," Roy said seriously. "It's the sort of thing you should tell her yourself. Riza's not fragile, sir; learning who you are won't break her." He paused. "And after Ishval, she deserves to know she's still got some family left in the world."
"I suppose," Grumman conceded. "It's better to give it a little more time, though. Let her get a little more comfortable here, really feel that she has a place she belongs. Then break the news carefully. It's not an easy thing, learning about unknown pasts and relatives."
Awwwwww, silly Grumman. If you could make her smile, telling her you're her grandpa would probably get you a hug. Unless you're dressed like a woman again.
