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Where Roy Is Sick

Havoc shifted gears, easing off the clutch when the light turned green. It was getting dark outside, meaning it was quite late when considering the warm season. Although he was not one to run errands after workhours of his own free will, today was an exception.

"Uhm, isn't the Colonel's flat over there?" Fuery piped up from the passenger seat, pointing out the window when the car went straight ahead instead of taking a turn.

"Yup," Havoc grinned to himself, the cigarette in his mouth held by his teeth, "but I doubt he'll be home."

"But… he said he's staying home for as long as he's ill," Fuery argued, puzzlement wrinkling his forehead.

"Trust me, he won't be there," Havoc took a right, and they continued in silence until he pulled up in front of a very familiar apartment block. Fuery glanced at him with a somewhat nervous disbelieve, following out the car and up the first flight of stairs of the building.

"Is that why she left early…?" He pondered out loud and Havoc gave a confirming hum, halting in front of the door the Master Sergeant had often visited to care for his four-legged friend. He knocked, then put out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe, kicking it a little further down the hall. Steps could be heard from inside, a sharp voice following the barking of a dog.

"Hayate," Fuery happily greeted the Shiba Inu back when being jumped at.

"N'evening, Milady," Havoc grinned as he returned the First Lieutenant's greeting. Leaning against the doorframe, he met her with suspicion narrowing eyes. It was rare to see her with her hair down, in a long skirt and blouse instead of the usual military uniform – it made him realise how much that darn baggy blue garb hid away. "We just came to drop something off for the Colonel; he might want to have a look at it before it's too late," he baited, seeing her rejection crumble into reluctance. Fuery uneasily glanced from one to the other, not quite yet wanting to believe the Colonel to actually be staying at the Lieutenant's place when calling in sick. Havoc left no room for that being a doubt, doing his best not to falter under her threatening eyes, pretending to know when it was only a very probable assumption of his.

With a sharp sigh, she gave in.

"I'll go ask him if he wants to hear you out," she decided, stepping aside for them to enter. "Do pick up your stub," she dryly instructed, not having glanced down the hall a single time to know. He did as he was told, only one step necessary to be in her kitchen to find a bin. Another two steps and he was in the living room area.

She had not anticipated them, not even an alibi blanket and pillow on the couch. Fuery closed the door behind them, about to rummage for the aforementioned folder in his bag when a new voice joined them.

"Riza…" the Colonel's voice drawled from the bedroom then. She flinched, if hardly noticeably, her jaw clenching in denial of the light blush Havoc delightedly spotted to be tinting her cheeks. "Come back, I'm getting cold…" he lamented.

"'Riza'?" He raised a brow at her, a teasing smirk tugging up the corner of his mouth. She shot him a glare, making Fuery shrink while Havoc's eyes sparked up. He knew he would pay for this later – her wrath was not something to joke about – but he was having by far too much fun to stop just yet. With another strict look, she turned to head into the bedroom. They knew not to follow without permission if they wanted to stay in one piece, so they waited.

"I don't wanna see anyone," the Colonel's from a cold nasal voice practically overran her softer one as she began to explain. Havoc could not understand the words she said but he detected the urgence she spoke with, receiving indecisive grumbling from her superior.

She returned with her arms folded in front of her chest.

"What exactly is so important?" She enquired, looking even more annoyed than before. It was mostly stress, Havoc observed, noting the hints of dark rims beneath her eyes he had already speculated on during work. Not too much of a surprise, considering she was on a fulltime job now, playing the nurse, nanny and housewife after completing not only her own paperwork but part of her superior's since early in the morning.

"Are we playing messenger now?" Havoc tilted his head. Sighing again, she turned on the heel.

"Yeah, fine, whatever," Mustang groaned, having overheard. Beckoning them in, Hawkeye lead the way into the bedroom. At least the bed was queen-sized, Havoc thought, well aware of the Colonel's habit of hogging everything in his sleep, her most likely not being an exception.

The room was dimly lit when the Lieutenant turned on the lamp on the nightstand, a yellowish streetlamp from outside helping along. The Colonel was lying on his back, his head elevated by two pillows for him to breathe more easily. He was bundled up in a blanket up to his chest which was partly visible with the first few buttons opened. It smelled of something biting yet soothing, reminding Havoc of his childhood and the balm his mother had rubbed on his chest and below his nose to let him breathe at night. It made him wonder how far Hawkeye's care went, scenarios of her applying the balm already spiralling through his mind.

"What is it?" Mustang pulled the Second Lieutenant back into the present. Sniffling, he narrowed his slightly puffy eyes at his subordinate in anticipation. Havoc waved at Fuery who got out the folder.

"Remember how Captain Lancer demanded a relaxation of restrictions for joining the military?" Havoc began, handing over the folder. Taking it, the Colonel struggled to keep the documents inside as he lifted it high enough to see. Calmly, Hawkeye took it from him, putting it aside, patting her superior's shoulder. He heaved himself up as a reply and she dutifully rearranged his pillows for him to sit against the headboard before returning the files to him.

"He wasn't serious," Mustang growled, eyes widening upon scanning the first document.

"He was and he might actually get through with it if the voting ends in his favour," Havoc retold while watching the perfectly coordinated couple with amusement. "He already got Nonsuch and Roebuck on his side; it'll be a close call,"

"There's a mistake in here," Mustang interrupted. "It says the voting is on Monday," he gave a smug grunt, "which it cannot be without me there," he coolly closed the files, handing it back to his Lieutenant for her to pass it along. She stood there like she always did when he was in discussion; stoic, eyes closed and with an unwavering serenity, never giving her own thoughts away to draw attention to her or betray her own feelings – letting him control the mood. It was as if she was on standby, merely reacting to her commanding officer's orders until he would need her.

Again, the mental cinema in Havoc's brain was running wild with imagining her fulfilling the Colonel's every wish, setting her own needs aside. It was almost pitiful.

"That's why we came to tell you," Havoc let his gaze overshadow. "He scheduled it because you won't be there," he disclosed. A vein pulsed on the Colonel's forehead in anger, teeth clenching as his hands balled to fists around the blanket. Havoc shrugged, casually lighting up a new cigarette.

"That bastard," Mustang growled. "He can't just do that!"

"This isn't exactly a democratic country," Havoc commented while Mustang raged, chocking on his next curse. As if on cue, Hawkeye almost automatically picked up the empty mug from the nightstand in response to his coughing. Plucking the cigarette out of Havoc's mouth, it hissed where she uncompromisingly dropped it into the mug. Returning the folder to Fuery, she left the room for what they all knew was the brewing of a fresh tea.

Clearing his throat after having stopped his coughs, the Colonel glared out the window, the gears almost visibly turning in search of a solution.

"That's some maid you got there," Havoc used his chance of Hawkeye being unable to hear with the kettle's bubbling to enjoy himself some more. An obviously not by his abating fever caused blush spread over the otherwise so unbothered Colonel's face. Pursing his lips, he glared at the Second Lieutenant's smirk from the corner of his eye.

"Well, she's the only one of you lot to honestly care about me," he lifted his chin defiantly. Havoc snorted with laughter, another murderous glint being thrown his way.

"You mean the only one bending over backwards when you have a cold," Havoc mocked, though merely for the amusement of seeing his superior inwardly explode and outwardly firing up with more than just a blush. He knew it had been a fever two days ago and he, too, felt as if death was close when his nose became stuffy – it was a men thing, so it seemed. However, the opportunity of returning the many playful taunts from his commanding officer he had had to swallow over the years was too sweet to miss, so he used it to the fullest.

"Fever," the Colonel hissed in his defence.

"You probably just occupied her place like you always do when you get dr-" Havoc stopped midsentence when the whistling of the kettle faded. Fuery had elbowed him warningly, cheeks flushed almost as much as Mustang's with the current situation and not least conversation. He was somehow half the entertainment, which was why Havoc always tried to get assigned the same post as Fuery when the team held their fake chatters over telecommunication during a mission – his embarrassed reactions to Roy's and 'Elizabeth's' flirts were almost as priceless as the innuendos themselves. Havoc was still of the firm opinion that most of the dialogue was real.

Hawkeye's gaze flashed from one to the other in suspicion as she entered the momentarily silent room. She put the tea down on the nightstand, returning to her previous position.

"So anyway, we thought you might wanna have this," Havoc smirked while Fuery stepped forward, handing the First Lieutenant an envelope. Narrowing his eyes at Havoc, the Colonel grabbed and opened it. A huge grin spread across his face. A ballot. "He was so absorbed in his vision, I thought he wouldn't mind if I just took it," Havoc wiggled his brows when his mischievously sparking eyes met the Colonel's slyly glinting ones. Of course, they always had his back and Mustang knew that – only cooking three meals a day and sacrificing one's own bed was not the men's style. That's what he had his loyal First Lieutenant for.

"Oh, someone will look a proper charlie when this finds its way into those corrupt hands of his," Mustang was laughing gleefully. "How I wish I'd see his face," he snickered to himself, somewhat evilly. With an unsuccessfully suppressed sigh, Hawkeye shook her head. She left to find a pen and then something to write on, returning with a clipboard of what looked like the Colonel's paperwork – probably what she had taken home to keep working on it.

Climbing up on the other side of the bed, she shuffled across the mattress until her knees brushed his thigh. She propped the clipboard onto her lap, handing him the pen which he eagerly took. Sitting up a little more, Mustang bent over to scribble over the small box opposing the Captain's dangerous ideas until it went completely black, nearly ripping the sheet apart in his vigour.

"Oh, I really want to sign this," he grinned devilishly, hardly able to wait until the ballot would reach and blow up the plans of his venal colleague. Signing a ballot was, of course, not the idea of an anonymous vote, but it would feel rather satisfying. The increased number of votes would have to do.

"Perhaps you could transfer that enthusiasm to your unfinished paperwork, Sir," Hawkeye dryly commented. He pursed his lips into a pout, giving her a look that she returned without so much as twitching a brow. Havoc's smirk widened. She was playing unaffected as usual but – also as usual – gave in anyway. Not that his attempt at puppy eyes were very effective in gaining pity, but for some reason, the ever-unyielding Hawkeye relented every time.

What wouldn't Havoc do for a girl of his own, just like that, reading his every desire off his lips and devoting herself so selflessly to his wellbeing. Sure, they clashed at least once a day and she could keep him under control with a snap of her fingers if she wanted to, but she really was dedicating her every day, sometimes hour to seeing to him, be it at work or in private.

Nonetheless, Havoc would never switch places, no matter how perfect of a match they were. They fit like a glove – quite literally, though no one but the two knew of her tattoo his Flame Alchemy originated in. The problem was a certain law, however, preventing whatever blindly obvious affection the two shared from blooming and it was enough to occasionally witness even just a trace of misery about that prohibition to make Havoc glad about not being in either one's shoes.

"I expect you to call me immediately once the results are there," the Colonel freed himself from the duel of varying gazes with his second half.

"Right," Havoc nodded. "Uh, before we leave, mind if I use the bathroom?" He asked the First Lieutenant.

"Be my guest," she said without turning, prudently collecting the ballot, then scooted higher on the bed to rearrange the Colonel's pillows for him to lay down again. Fuery stuffed the ballot into his bag, leaving for the hall right after the Second Lieutenant, feeling even more like an intruder when Mustang started thanking Hawkeye in a tone too soft for addressing a subordinate, however faithful. He stumbled after Hayate when the latter scratched on the now closed bathroom door, reaching up for the handle.

"Ah, no," Fuery hissed, distracting the dog a moment too late. Havoc gave both a scolding look when he reappeared. "Sorry, I once taught him that trick when watching over him," the Master Sergeant apologised, scratching the back of his neck.

Hawkeye came back into the hall, closing the door to the bedroom behind her.

"How will we excuse the ballot when he doesn't go to work?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Came in early?" Havoc shrugged.

"Just for that one box?" She raised a brow, though there was a cunning sparkle in her eyes.

"Sounds like a thing he'd pull off,"

"I can hear you, you know!" The Colonel yelled from next door, making the rest of his team supress laughter.

"Suddenly, his hearing has returned," Havoc joked as he and Fuery went to leave.

"It's a miracle," Hawkeye rolled her eyes, smiling as she saw them off. The lock clicked and her steps disappeared in what they were sure to be the bedroom.

"You taught the dog how to open doors?" Havoc's lips pulled into a smirk as they strolled down the hall.

"In case of an emergency; so he can escape buildings," Fuery elaborated.

"Hm," Havoc rubbed his chin in thought. "How about we grab something to eat and then… we can get back that super important envelope we forgot,"
"It's not that import-"

"Yeah, it is," Havoc grinned, lighting up a new cigarette before fastening his seatbelt. His entertainment was far from over.

Meanwhile, Riza had handed the Colonel his toothbrush, brushing her own teeth in the bathroom. After taking care of rinsing his, she returned to the clipboard of unfinished paperwork, finishing sheet after sheet until her eyes practically fell closed of their own accord. Stroking over Hayate's head where he had curled up on the couch next to her, she got up, returning to the bedroom one final time. The light was already turned off but the streetlamp gave a pretty good view, making it easy for her to find her dresser.

She was not trying to tease or tempt him by changing in the same room. She did not want him to stare while at the same time, she was not ready to yield her every room to him alone. But she could feel his eyes burn into her and – not that she admitted it to herself – it was kind of thrilling to have him watch while she took her time unbuttoning her skirt, letting it drop to her ankles where she stepped into her pyjama shorts. He surveyed her every move, gaze lading on the tattoo and burn marks on her back when she let her blouse slide down her shoulders, unhooking her bra before slipping over a top.

"Riza?" Roy raised his voice. She glanced at him over her shoulder, finally turning. He patted the mattress, waiting for her to get on the bed. "Am I…" he inhaled before continuing, making her frown in concern. "Am I a burden to you?" He asked, meeting her eyes from below. Her lips parted and she stared at him for a moment of silence.

"A burden?" She asked, tilting her head. "What did he tell you?" She huffed, about to stalk over to the phone but he snatched her wrist.

"No, I just… I do burden you, don't I?" He asked, his voice retreating to a whisper. "I really am occupying your place and stealing your time…" she shook her head, coming closer.

"You know that if I truly wanted to kick you out, I'd already have done so," she offered a smile and he returned a small one. She detached his hand from her wrist finger by finger, tenderly interlacing her own with his. "I'm glad to know you're safe," she concluded, watching their hands, "and this is the best way to know," she lifted her gaze, now having her smile fully reflected.

Both looked towards the window when the honking of a car sounded. Silence fell again apart from Hayate pacing the hall, probably also spooked, so they paid it no mind.

Unbeknownst to them, it had disrupted the still night on purpose.

Havoc hasted up the flight of stairs as noiselessly as he could. Fuery was reliably standing in front of the Lieutenant's now open door, Hayate having obeyed flawlessly even through the closed door. With the car keys still pressed tightly into his fist to keep them from clinking, Havoc crept past the already blushing boy and into the small apartment.

Everything was dark, the wind howling, fortunately covering up any creaking the floorboards sighed with beneath their feet. Using the shuffling of the sheets in the bedroom, Havoc tiptoed over, peering into the darkness of the bedroom. He just needed that bit of satisfaction; the knowledge that he was not the only one to suffer under the Colonel's possessive grasp in his sleep whenever having to share a bed.

And entertainment, of course. Hawkeye scolding anyone who was not himself was always amusing.

His narrowed eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of what he had not quite anticipated. Hawkeye had only just crawled beneath the sheets, and he noted how there was no pillow left for her with the Colonel propped up higher. Apparently, she did not care. She had her own pillow, so Havoc saw, a blush finally tinging his cheeks as well.

With one arm shoved beneath his shoulder, the other wrapping up and around him where it came to rest on the side of his neck, the Lieutenant snuggled up to her commanding officer, resting her head on his chest. With a warm smile, the Colonel tugged her closer by her waist, legs shuffling beneath the blanket. With his free hand, he gently clasped her hand on his neck, bringing it to his face where he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. A smile of her own stretched across her lips and she gave a deep sigh of content.

Fuery – by now peeking around the corner as well – was practically radiating with his flushed face, right beneath Havoc's, but the latter had no time to pay any attention to his usual second source of entertainment. His jaw was almost dropping onto the Master Sergeant's head. He would have teased them about some argument or another but this was… admittedly lovely.

"Riza…" Mustang gave a short grunt. She answered with a hum, not opening her eyes for a second. "Could you move your gun away from my crotch?" He asked and she chuckled. The lump beneath the blanket that was apparently her leg – her armed leg – between his shifted downward. Havoc gulped, pulled out of his thoughts when being poked from below.

Exchanging a glance with his colleague, both wordlessly decided on leaving. Trying to sneak back, they nearly stumbled over Hayate who friendlily wagged his tail. Exhaling as quietly as their relief allowed, they halted when Hawkeye raised her voice.

"Hayate?" She asked into the darkness.

"No," the Colonel whined as soon as the dog had entered the bedroom, claws scratching over the wood. The sheets shuffled and her giggle lured both blushing men back to peep around the doorframe one last time. "No, my woman; you get to sleep with her all week…" Mustang nasally complained when two paws climbed onto the bed in polite question. Despite his odd phrasing, the Lieutenant gave another chuckle, tightening her arms where they now wound around his back and up to his shoulders. He had turned them onto the side, hugging her even closer to him, his own arms wound around her back in that possessive, protective embrace he would cling to blankets and pillows with when alone in bed.

"You worry too much," she whispered, giving a squeeze. Only relaxing after Hayate had curled up at their feet instead of barging in and claiming his mommy's attention, the Colonel bent his neck to plant a loving kiss to the crown of her head. With a vocal sigh, she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

Havoc and Fuery stared for what felt like eternity, breaths held and muscles stiff. They only dared to move after the couple's breathing had evened, fleeing backwards and on silent feet, running for their lives the second the front door's lock clicked shut.