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After having been kidnapped and then saved by Roy, Riza finds herself in his care where he grudges no pains to see to her recovery.

Chapter 2 – Ministration

"Colonel," Riza nagged weakly.

"You should rest," he countered without batting an eye. She pursed her lips.

"That really isn't necessary," she persisted. "I'm not gravely injured; I can take care of myself," she said. "Besides, you don't have any dog food for Hayate. At least get me to my own place," she argued. He was not budging. Hayate perked his ears as he faithfully trotted after them, right on Roy's heels where he climbed the few steps to the front door.

Havoc gave a sigh from where he leaned against the car, his jacket's collar in hand, casually slung over his shoulder. Roy could feel the same raised brows in his back that had wiggled at him throughout the entire drive. He was only glad Havoc had been the one to drive them. Not the rest of the small, improvised unit that had been composed of two guards positioned in front of a laboratory entrance, and a regular police officer – bless the poor men, having seen the greatest horror of their lives as they had been tasked with transporting the crispy kidnappers to the closest cells.

Roy had insisted that they would not be treated immediately, feeling his blood boil angrily at the mere thought of their existences alone. Abusing his Lieutenant…

"I saw your wounds and I disagree," he courtly replied to her nonsensical downplaying. "And I'm sure I still have a good pound of meat in the fridge," he added when her surprisingly awake mouth opened for the next complaint. It was as much of a relief as it was a nuisance. She was supposed to rest, not rile herself up on something so indisputable.

There was no way he was going to leave her to herself and in her own flat at that. He reasoned – in a lowered voice, remembering Havoc to be waiting for further instructions – how his bed was bigger than hers; how it would be easier to keep an eye on her. Not that it was untrue. But when her raided place came to his mind, probably a mess and without a doubt a constant reminder of the atrocious night she had been forced to experience, he could not bear to take her there.

No, he would guard her day and night. He had already decided to stay for at least the first week when she would go back to sleep in her own bed. Not least because he, too, needed the confirmation of her near and unharmed to fall asleep. Seeing her scared was not only a rare sight to behold, but a downright terrifying one.

"Hey, chief," Havoc interrupted their quiet bickering when Roy took forever to fumble for his key. Following them, patting his superior officer's coat pocket, he frowned.

"It's in the front," Roy courtly illuminated. Havoc grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, awkwardly fishing out the keys from the Colonel's trouser pocket. He went to unlock the door for them, struggling to find the keyhole in the dark.

Unoccupied with having to find the key, Roy's hand went to support Riza's back again. She still had her hands locked behind his nape, securing her torso against him, but he wanted her to be as comfortable as possible. Also, he liked holding her.

Riza slumped into him again. She was exhausted, perhaps still slightly intoxicated by whatever she had been knocked out with. How she was nonetheless able to start a discussion with him never ceased to amaze him. It was something that annoyed him as much as it turned him on – it was just so her, his feisty Lieutenant.

In her current condition however, the last thing she needed was to overexert herself with arguing about her own wellbeing. He did not want to fight. He just wanted to dress her wounds, make sure she ate to support her circulation, and slept. And he needed a cold shower; cool down again.

"Alrighty," Havoc opened the door for them, "ladies first," he pretended a strict tone. Rolling his eyes Roy stretched his tired arms a little, having her hover over the threshold before him. It lured out a smile that she gratefully directed at the Second Lieutenant. "Anything else you need? A doctor? A plaster? A pizza?" he asked. Her smile grew while Roy felt the need to pinch the bridge of his nose. He settled with a sharp exhale.

"No, it's fine," he said, "thanks for your help," he honestly added, though still under the veil of irritation. Havoc gave a charming grin.

"Anytime," he nonchalantly replied. The same clandestine honestly was laced into his own tone, the worriedly affectionate spark in his eyes betraying him. He must have been as worked up as the Colonel, the possibility of being able to stalk them in the car apparently having appeased his nerves. She might have been as beaten up as she looked, but she took it with the same inexorability she faced any challenge with. And she had Roy, her mental health secured.

"Oh, you can bring the application forms for our leave on Monday. I'll write you a note of absence."

"What?" Riza blinked the heaviness from her dropping lids. "No, we don't need-"

"We need," he simply retorted.

"But you're not even-"

"Bring both," Roy defiantly ordered Havoc, overhearing his First Lieutenant's repeated protests. Havoc snickered as he went back to the borrowed police car. They heard the engine start and leave from behind the door as Roy pushed it closed with his foot.

She had fallen silent, but he could see the small pout retreat. He wondered if she could sit up by herself as he stood there in the hallway where he could not yet decide between the kitchen and living room.

"Do you want to lie down?" he asked, his tone by far softer than in Havoc's presence. Following his train of thought, she shook her head. And he agreed – he did not want to leave her, if only for a minute, and even if the distance were only a nominal number of steps. So he entered his admittedly tidy kitchen.

Balancing on one foot, he pulled out a chair from the unvarnished table. He could have well used his hand, seeing as she still held on, but he could not bring himself to let go of her just yet. She must have felt the trembling of his hands in the car, having lasted at least half the ride.

"Okay…" he mumbled under his breath, lowering her carefully. But when he wanted to straighten, she had not retracted her tied-up hands yet. The unexpected counterforce pulled him down, right into her cleavage. Riza gasped soundlessly, arms stiffening while he groped for purchase, finding the rickety backrest.

"Sorry," she stuttered. He knew her face must have been flushed, already feeling the warmth coming from her neck. Deciding on a different mood, Roy merely tilted his head back, flashing her a boyish grin.

Her eyes were big, and oh, they were so beautiful. He could feel his own face glow faintly with adoration.

"Why, Lieutenant, you could have just told me that you wanted me to-"

"Don't go there," she tugged on his hair, hands still on his nape. His grin only broadened. Because the corners of her mouth had twitched, and the sparkle in her eyes easily gave her away.

Her shoulders sank when he used the opportunity to press his mouth back to the spot beneath the hollow of her neck. A small sigh escaped her. With triumph, he noted how her shackled wrists dropped, a single finger remaining to twirl a strand of his hair. It was not the mood he had intended, but he found he was not disappointed. Neither was she.

So he continued, trailing gentle kisses down to her sternum. Her breath hitched when his chin brushed her chest again. Her hands had wandered down his back, but froze once he steered to the side.

"Colonel," Riza mildly warned when he attempted a short suckle at the top of her breast. He beamed his grin back at her, and he knew the initial playfulness in his eyes to have melted into affection just like her own.

Kneeling upright where he quite liked his spot between her legs, he hovered close to her face. There was a drop of dried-up blood beneath her nose, looking slightly bruised just like her cheek. Her lips were swollen, more traces of blood at the side where they had burst open.

He avoided that side when he met them with his own. Tenderly, more tender even than he had treated her chest, he enclosed her lips in a kiss. Riza rocked into him as her ribcage expanded. A feeble yet vocal sigh traded into his mouth. She ran straddled fingers through his hair, the shackles clinking where they coldly touched his nape. Luckily, there was no wood anymore which she had been bound to, only a splintered fragment remaining at the fetters around her ankles in front of his knees.

He was too glad to have found her in time. The remorse of not having arrived sooner was long gone, replaced with gratefulness – one she returned with an equal vigour.

Tracing her lower lip with his tongue, Roy gradually soothed the aching pulsing. He felt for the wound, tasing iron in an effort to clean off the blood without hurting her. Willingly, Riza parted her lips for him, pressing him closer. He pulled away. A light smack sounded where they disconnected, and he could watch her eyes as they took another heartbeat to peel open.

She was divine. She was exhausted, in pain, perhaps still under the lingering effects of whatever drugs she had been given, but she was a goddess. And she was his. Her eyes shone past their tiredness, a haze left from the kiss. Oh, she loved him. She was hopelessly devoted, and boy was the feeling mutual.

He knew that if he would have asked her, she would have stuck a gun to her temple and blown out her brains without hesitation.

Allowing his lovestoned eyes to soften, he offered a placid smile. His hands wandered to her sides, up her ribs and to her shoulders. He could see how she expected him to lean back in, more than ready to return the favour. She really was the cutest thing, and he was glad to know she not only gave herself to him out of sheer gratefulness.

But he also knew that the thing she needed now was medical attention. Not to mention rest.

Trailing down her shoulders, he left goosebumps along her arms in his wake. Finding her hands, he gently detached them from behind his head, lifting them to free himself. He did not release them immediately. Inhaling her scent – the reality of her being here – he planted a long kiss to her knuckles, to her fingers, then – accompanied by the clinking of her restraints – to her palms. He minded the bloody handkerchief that secured the wound on her wrist.

Opening his eyes, Roy met her big ones from below. Her lids were heavy, fighting to fall closed, but she was mesmerised, unable to answer her body's plea.

"Let's get you patched up first," he said in a low voice. All she could do was exhale in return. Her shoulders slumped, torso dropping into the backrest with the tension broken. He got up, and her hands only slowly sank into her lap. Her eyes never left is back.

Opening the second drawer, Roy shoved the cutlery aside to find a sheet of paper. The array overleaf was faint but intact. He placed it on the table, then set a cast-iron pan atop it. Hands on the wooden surface, he transmuted the pan into a pair of pincers. They cut through the small chain with ease. The shackles themselves proved more difficult, so he transmuted anew, opting for a handy saw.

Riza's expression remained unyielding while he struggled with the shackles. He hardly dared to use force, not wanting to risk another cut to her pale skin. With a frustrated growl, he slapped the tool back onto the table.

"Hold on," he muttered, leaving her in the kitchen. His steps were hasty, his hands too quick to keep up with his thoughts as he accidentally ripped his nightstand drawer out. Not caring either way, he found the permanent marker he had been looking for. He halted shortly as he passed his wardrobe. Turning on the heel, he took a shirt from its hanger.

Returning to the kitchen, he found her to have lost the battle. Eyes shut, her chest rose and fell with steady breathing. He had to smile. Pityingly, but also gladly.

Roy crouched down next to her. He uncapped the marker, copying the paper's array for iron transmutation onto one of the shackles. He wanted to curse at himself for having cut the connecting chain, having to draw it again on the other restraint. They glowed under his palms, reshaping into a single metal rod.

Riza stirred. She opened her eyes, blinking down at him. Her gaze fell to her wrists, one hand coming up to wrap around the other, feeling the freed skin.
"Thank you," she croaked. He smiled where he was still busy with drawing the circle on the restraints around her ankles. His other hand gave a pat to her knee to let her know to have heard. The iron glowed, becoming a twin of his former creation. He set them aside. He had a basket in the cupboard beneath the sink for extra material that might come in handy someday.

"I didn't know you walk around barefooted," Roy playfully noted. Instead of getting back up just yet, he inspected her ankles. He mellowly rubbed one between his hands. They were ice cold, as were her feet. His knees sank to the ground, and he took her feet to rest on his thighs, away from the chilly floor, cupping them for warmth. Occasionally, he would fumble his way up, gingerly kneading the from the metal frozen ankles.

"I don't," she sighed. "My boots were gone when I awoke. Same with my jacket and guns," she ruefully added.

"That's why they opened it," he thoughtfully concluded, lightly trailing a fingertip up the length of her exposed thigh where the buttons of her skirt had been torn out of their holes. She shivered at the gesture, and he threw her an innocent grin. "I was wondering why you weren't wearing anything to cover the back of your neck," he resumed his caresses of her feet. "Then again, they did abduct you at home," he remembered, then, absently muttered, "they even took your socks…"

"My collar was high enough, but they must have taken the jacket for inspection. They were looking for your gloves," Riza darkly retold. His eyes widened. So then it was his fault she had been attacked. "I only hope someone will find my guns…" she sighed. As if that was their biggest problem. He had to smile.

"I know you prefer your own, but you can sleep on my gun tonight," he offered. He was not even joking. He knew she felt safer with something she could defend herself – and him – with, a grateful smile gracing her maltreated lips. "They'll find your guns. And your boots," he gave one final stroke over her feet. "They looked brand new," he flashed her another dorky grin. She raised an amused brow.

"How do you know? I've never worn them until today."

"I saw them near your entrance."

"I didn't put them near my entrance," she countered without missing a beat. A single drop of sweat made its way down his temple.

"I'm sure they… well, they must have been around somewhere when I saw them," he scrambled to his feet. "I definitely didn't go through your stuff to look for that lacy bra Catalina once hinted at," he fleetly muttered. Her mouth opened unbelievingly but he hushed her with a quick kiss to the lips. "If they were expensive, I'll get you a new pair," he briskly added. He noticed too late how counterproductive he was being, having stuck to the point instead of digressed. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

With a bit of a tense silence, Roy found that he could not retreat anyway. He did not find it in him to do so.

He untied his coat from where he had secured it at her front in order to shield the tattoo on her exposed nape. She leaned forward, eyes never leaving his – still about the bra thing, he knew, but they gained a teasing sparkle. With the coat removed, Roy draped the fresh shirt he had brought over her shoulders.

Every centimetre of her skin seemed frozen, no matter how supple.

"How did you know where I was?" Riza asked. She accepted his help, letting him lead her down the hall with an arm around her back – then waist when she winced in pain – for support.

"I didn't," he opened the bathroom door, "Hayate did," he disclosed. Both smiled at the loyal button eyes, Hayate naturally on his mommy's heels every step of the way. "I was just in the neighbourhood," he shrugged. She gave him a look. Awkwardly retracting his lips, Roy averted his gaze while sitting her down on the rim of the bathtub. "Alright, I was coming to see you," he admitted. "I know how you don't like to be rushed with getting ready when I'm already there while you're still walking the dog, so I waited until I was sure you'd be home.

"I damn well should've come earlier…" he growled under his breath. Her eyes softened. She must have known how he would blame himself, not a word of fault passing her lips.

"You found the empty flat," she concluded.

"No, I found Hayate," Roy corrected. "Or rather, he found me," he said. Taking out bandages and a compress, he soaked a towel in water, carrying everything over to her. "He barked when he saw me down the street, but he didn't stop. He was running like crazy, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was the suspicious car that had passed me not a minute before.

"It took a while until there was another car – it was already past midnight by then. So I confiscated the next car I saw and chased after where Hayate had disappeared," he retold. Riza listened with a slight frown, her unoccupied hand constantly scratching Hayate's ears in appreciation. "I found Havoc by chance – he was stumbling out of his favourite bar, so I ordered him to find some men and follow me."

"How did he know where you went?"

"Hayate's barking was pretty loud," Roy chuckled, "it was hard to miss."

"He can be just as much of a hothead as you," Riza fondly remarked. Hayate nuzzled into her hand, and she wordlessly thanked him.

Having finished with cleaning the crusted-over cuts on her wrist, Roy wrapped the gauze around them after having padded everything with a compress. They were not too deep, and the blood had stopped running to clod and seal the wound, but a scar might be left behind. Unlike him however, she was not one to pick at her crusts.

Digging out his tissue repairing balm, she declined.

"It's fine, it's just a bruise," Riza assured, and he could see how she was serious, albeit almost falling asleep again. So he opted against treatment to her face – all save for a kiss to her throbbing cheek – forgetting about her burns in the process.

"Alright," Roy rose to his feet. "Come on, Hayate," he turned, leaving the bathroom. Hayate did not budge, still contently nuzzling into his owner's hand where he sat on her cold foot. "Hayate," Roy repeated between gritted teeth. He received a friendlily tilted head. Riza chuckled.

"Go on," she nudged her loyal companion, and this time, he followed the order of her other loyal companion.

"It's rude to watch a lady in the bathroom," Roy scolded as he closed the door behind them. He led the way to the bedroom, pulling back the blanket in preparation. "Now you're even getting my expensive steak I saved for the weekend," he grumbled. Then he sighed. Crouching down, he reached out a hand and Hayate trotted over, rubbing into it. "You really deserve it…" Roy admitted, petting the canine gently.

He almost fell over when Riza returned from the bathroom. She stood in the doorway, donning his shirt and possibly a pair of knickers he could not see with the tails of the white button-up shirt reaching her upper thighs. That was it. Just those two items of clothing. Oh, he would buy the dog a steak a day if this was his reward.

A shiver broke his train of thoughts. Her knees touched where she was not only tired, but cold to the bone.

"Here," he managed after another moment of stupid gaping. He searched his wardrobe for something else she could wear – if ruefully – regretting to only have non-comfortable proper trousers or his military uniform's bottoms. Again, she pulled him back to reality with a tug on his sleeve.

"Join me," Riza quietly asked. His heart leaped out of his throat, his voice coming embarrassingly high. Why did she have to be hot and cute at the same time?

"Okay," he squeaked, cursing at himself. She shuffled into bed while he practically sprinted into the bathroom. Tearing off his clothes and thrusting his toothbrush over his teeth in an overhasty rush, he returned to find her shivering beneath the sheets. So, before fulfilling both of their wishes, he dug out an old pair of woollen socks.

She whimpered slightly when he finally crawled into bed beside her, drawing close to feel his warmth.

A good hour had passed when Roy heard that faint whimper again. He had remembered her burns not long after she had fallen asleep, having kept from bundling her up in his arms and increasing the stinging she had to endure. It also kept him from warming her up.

Turning his head to the side where he lied on his back, he watched sadly how her fists grasped the pillow in front of her face. Her forehead was creased in a discomforting frown. She started to shiver again.

Roy gasped quietly when spotting the tears that misted her lashes. Her breathing did not sound as if she was having a nightmare, but pity overcame him, and so he rolled onto his side, carefully winding his arms around her from the cold trembling form. He ran his toes down her exposed legs. Arriving at her feet, he found she had lost one of the socks, toes inside the remaining one clinging to it. Despite it, both feet were as much of a block of ice as the rest of her.

Her sniffle almost brought tears to his own eyes. Her clenched fingers came to grip his shirt, the slight staccato of her rising and falling side losing its evenness as she awoke.

"Colonel," Riza whispered. He was not sure whether it was a question or an observation. She shoved her face into his neck, trying to merge with his higher temperature.

"How about a hot bath?" he quietly proposed. Her frown changed without leaving.

"A bath?"

"Mhm."

"It's… the middle of the night," she vaguely determined. Technically, it was the cruelly early morning, but Roy did not harp on about it. Instead, he decided to take action on her behalf.

Sliding his hands beneath her, he carried her to the bathroom. Running them a bath, he kept her drowsy mind busy with having her choose the bath's scent and a shampoo she would like. He dressed the wound around her wrist with another layer, just in case, then proceeded to thickly coat her burns in soothing balm, covering them in bandages that would get soaked and would have to be changed anyway. All extra work he gladly loaded onto himself if only it would alleviate the terror he had caused her. The term 'fix' never even crossed his mind.