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Roy uses his charms and finds them to actually turn a disaster of a mission into a rather enticing one.

Successful Seduction

Roy glared so hard, he was sure it would settle permanently on his face. But no matter how sinister the look, nothing changed.

He huffed while she only gave a sigh.

"This is why we have cars," he vented, continuing when he heard her inhale to pick up the previous debate. "And build roads," he added. Of course she had been right about that – the necessity of a road to begin with – seeing as the mud was too thick to allow a car to travel through. Nonetheless, he was still crossed with how they had had to resort to choosing a carriage. A carriage full of people and on top of that, one that did not even stop for them when they had jumped off to save their falling luggage.

Or so she had done – he had only leapt off to catch her fall, not quite succeeding, resulting in both being splattered with mud and left to drag each other out while the cart had gone its merry way. Now on the side of the road that was not quite a road, freezing and dirty, they stood there, left to themselves.

"Who even chooses their base of operations to be in some backwater right past the middle of nowhere," he growled. That, too, they had gone over numerous times.

"It doesn't provoke as much attention," she argued flatly.

"Well, there's also no real way to escape, is there?" he lifted his foot to hear the smacking of deep mud.

"Which is why it's so unsuspicious – you said so yourself," she concluded, and he suppressed a groan. He was starting to wish he had not been so brilliant after all. Would have saved himself this weary journey.

Hawkeye heaved another sigh. She took off her coat, wringing it out. Anyone under the age of five could have showered in the masses of water she squeezed out. She was soaked from head to toe, involuntarily bathed in the river to catch his suitcase from following her example. Her own was floating down the steady stream, by now nowhere to be seen. His had been more important, seeing as he had been tasked with packing their maps – something she did not yet know he had forgotten entirely.

"Was there anything important in your luggage?" he asked while surrendering his own coat, draping it over her shivering shoulders.

"My sniper rifle and ammunition," she quietly said, gratefully thrusting her arms through the sleeves of his coat. It was muddy at the hem but at least it was otherwise dry, keeping what little cold had not yet crept into her bones at bay. It would not for long, he knew, so they started walking. He mourned his now thoroughly ruined shoes, finding that for the first time he missed wearing military boots. But their mission was to go undercover, so civilian clothes were in order.

Her steps squelched in front of him, the mud sucking at the heels of her boots. At least she had boots, though of course they were wet and most likely still filled with icy river water, the protection they had offered up her calves rendered useless. Apart from that, he had a hard time deciding whether he should also mourn the lack of a skirt. It had almost become a standard in her wardrobe outside of workhours, and it invariably gave him goosebumps to see her fling the buttons along her thigh open to draw her gun.

Roy settled with being thankful about her not being obliged to do so in front of a potential enemy, contenting himself with the eye candy that were her legs in jeans. He was about to scowl at how his coat mostly hid them from view when another notion hit.

"What about your gloves?" she asked, her thoughts having come to the same conclusion. He reached into his pocket.

"Wet," he concluded, looking up to see her having found an equally moist pair in the pocket of his coat. "The spare ones were in your suitcase," he groaned, raking a hand through his hair. At least she still had her guns on her, he thought. He contemplated holding on to the gloves, perhaps stick them out of his pocket with the transmutation circle facing his body, allowing them to try. She handed him the other pair and he stuck them out his other pocket.

They had not yet reached the signpost they could spot in the distance – thank goodness for signposts – where he was about to send another silent thanks to whomever for the weather, when the first drop of rain landed on his nose. Then another.

"You've got to be kidding me…" he grumbled, more and by far worse curses on the tip of his tongue. But then his eyes landed on her again, registering the quivering of her knees. "Come on," he wrapped his arm around her, hustling them along. "Let's just find someplace to stay," he declared, keeping her close while his own clothes were starting to get heavier with water. Should there be anyone suspecting them or just bear the hint of intent at a robbery, her guns were all they had to defend themselves with. And their actual targets were no ordinary thieves.

Roy harked when his Lieutenant sighed in exasperation. Rummaging through his suitcase, he chose a fresh shirt, then furrowed his brow in thought while regarding his boxers. Deciding in favour of both, he went over to the bathroom door of their tiny inn room, knocking. She opened the door a gap wide.

"Here," he held out his clothes, flashing her an empathic smile where she glanced up at him. She wore a towel and he caught himself to be scanning for bra straps, finding none. What had not escaped his notice either was how incredibly short her shower had been. He already feared a lack of warm water to be the cause.

Accepting his offer, she disappeared behind the door again, though left it ajar. With a mental pat on his back for such self-restraint, Roy went back to gather his own change of clothes.

"Remember how I complained about leaving a day early?" he threw over his shoulder.

"You complained about many things, Sir," Hawkeye supplied. It cracked him up.

"Well, you never know what it's good for," he nodded to himself, knowing she remembered their argument. And that it had been her idea to begin with. Far be it from him not to bite the bullet and admit to having been wrong – at least when it came to her – but he liked the way she teased him, having hoped for another witty comeback.

Stripping down to his own boxers and shirt, Roy turned just in time to see his Lieutenant wearing the exact same assembly. He had to grin. She rolled her eyes, looking elsewhere. There were some things he could not get enough of, so he neared her, keen to catch a glimpse of a blush or shy pursing of her lips. And if not, the sight of her in his now oversized-seeming shirt was a feast by itself.

"Suits you," he smiled. She shot him a glare. But then she relaxed, slumping down on the side of the bed.

"It's too big," she said. To his surprise, she lifted the shirt. She plucked at the empty bulge pouch of the boxers. It made him snort, grin broadening at the way her eyes twinkled teasingly. Gods, he loved this woman.

"That it is," he wiggled his brows in response while tugging at the waistband of the pair he was wearing. She gave an exasperated groan, only enticing more laughter. Smirking mischievously, he closed in again. To his dismay, she had anticipated it, foot extended to lightly kick him away again. "At least this way we both get something to wear," he pointed out, still amused. "I don't think I would have fit into any of your skirts," he joked. His heart was aflutter when she fleetly glanced at him, the corners of her mouth momentarily twitching upwards.

Riza crossed her legs when he was about to hold the outstretched foot captive. So many losses to mourn that day.

She propped one elbow up on her knee to rest her chin in her palm.

"I'm starting to prefer you naked over not having my rifle," she sighed. His brows shot up, lips stretching into a smirk. "I didn't bring any binoculars because I had the sniper scope and now I won't be of any use to the mission," she lamented, still rather speaking to the wall than turning to him. He could see the faint blush where it crowned her cheeks, and – not without another assessing glance into the bathroom, finding her bra hung up alongside the rest of her clothes – advanced again.

"Well, I'm sure we can find a way to share mine," he referred to his binoculars, "as for your first wish," Roy lowered his voice. He started to slide the buttons of his shirt out of their holes, slowly, never ceasing to drill his eyes into her. Riza frowned, looking at him a little irritated when she suddenly burst into laughter. Covering her mouth, her chest kept on vibrating, body rocking with poorly stifled laughter.

Panicked, he stared down in the fear of somehow having forgotten about an oddly located bruise or patch of mud. Finding nothing amiss, he raised a quizzical brow. Another moment passed where he had to wait for her to catch her breath. A wonderfully heart-warming moment.

"With all due respect, Sir," she quelled another set of giggles, "what was that?" she gestured, and he had to check again before shrugging helplessly. Lips pressed tightly, Riza awkwardly wiggled on the spot, imitating what he had apparently unconsciously done with his hips. His grin spread anew, all bashfulness forgotten by the to him angelic sound of her laughter, however muffled.

"Did it turn you on?" he trailed his tone another few notes lower, gliding across the musty carpet. Caging her in, his hands landed on either side of her on the mattress. Face now close to hers, he admired the sparkling in her eyes, tempted to grab her wrist and hear her laughter ring. Or kiss her – definitely kiss her.

"Oh, very," Riza overdramatically confessed, her tone dripping thickly with sarcasm. She giggled again and he felt his stomach loop with giddy happiness. Starting to realise his plan, she leaned back, laughter dying down into abating pants. The hand over her mouth drew protectively to her chest. His eyes followed, heart hammering when he perceived the way the shirt had begun to soak up the wetness of her hair, becoming more and more see-through. She was so unbelievably cute, yet right now, she was unintentionally toying with a different section of his brain.

Eluding him until having to lean back on her forearms, Riza's eyes never left his. Big and dark and with a hint of insecurity at their current position, though not defying as he would have expected after such a horribly executed journey. His breath collided with hers, warmly venting against her cheeks. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, her lips nearly touching his, her scent enchanting him.

A finger flew to his lips, stopping him.

"You," Riza glanced away, unable to have her face follow the path of her eyes without brushing with his, "still have mud on your face," she croaked, "Sir." His smile softened. Gently, he enclosed the slim hand at his face, kissing the tip of her finger. Travelling southward, he planted another peck on her palm, then on the heel of her hand.

He opened his mouth to rekindle the previous atmosphere with a playful remark, when the words got stuck in his throat. She had freed her hand from his grasp. Only now, it was even closer. Her thumb shortly grazed her hair before tenderly brushing along his cheek. So she was aware of the dripping of her hair, he noted, yet too captivated to continue the thought.

Her thumb wandered along his cheek, to his lips and down to his chin. And then she was kissing him. Roy's insides spiralled in all kinds of directions, his pulse having shot up into a wild gallop where it rushed loudly in his ears. Seriously? every sane braincell was yelling in his mind like the deafening chiming of cathedral bells, seriously?!

Oh, he truly loved this woman. More than he could have ever put into words.

Responding with vigour, Roy shivered upon hearing a muffled moan escape her lips. But she would not stop, so he seized the opportunity to claim her lips, devouring each kiss as if it might be the last he would ever be granted. Their lips moved, dragged, scraped, hers in time with his, returning his want with need.

Finally, she had sunken down on her back, his hand steadily guiding her into the mattress while their lips melted into the other. Having to brace his knee on the mattress, he towered her. He hungrily suckled at her lower lip. Groaning when her hands found his hair, he used one of his to cup her nape, to entangle in her golden tresses and to tilt up her chin to savour every millimetre of her lips. A jolt stirred his bowels when one of her hands trailed down his shirt, gradually releasing the last few buttons before gliding over his abdomen, his chest, up to his clavicle.

With another groan, Roy traced her lower lip with his tongue. Her own greeted him, inviting his to a dance, becoming a wrestle that almost made him dizzy. His heart seemed to stop and then crush the inside of his ribcage when he felt her having slid down to ever so slightly grind against his knee. He took everything back – this assignment was great. They had never made love on a mission, but he was more than amenable for a change like this. In fact, he would vote for it becoming tradition.

With his head in the clouds and his heart on fire, Roy kissed his Lieutenant nearly senseless. His hand groped for the buttons of her shirt, starting to undo them while his mind wandered ahead to all the spots he would caress with his lips – those weak spots of hers he knew all too well.

Riza bolted out of her trance when there was a knock on the door. Both of them jumped, eyes huge with sudden alarm, staring at the other as if it would summon either the knowledge of whoever was in front of their door or what to do should said person decide to just barge in.

Reality came rushing back in, hitting him hard when he heard her panting for the first time in minutes. His own breathing rasped, lungs wanting to burst when he forced a calm pace, expression collected. Not without effort did he heave himself off her, painfully aware of the loss of her lips against his and the friction she had sought against his leg.

Another knock. Roy peered around the corner towards the door. He snuck up to it.

"Who is it?" he asked grimly. The shock was almost gone, replaced with anger.

"It's me," Havoc's voice reached him from the other side of the door. Letting out a deep sigh that was neither fully relieved nor annoyed, Roy unlocked the door. Havoc grinned, an unlit cigarette between his lips. "Sorry for the intrusion," he said in the least apologetic tone. It gained even more feistiness upon registering the Colonel's attire. "Hope I didn't interrupt anything," he wiggled his brows suggestively. He must have guessed the Lieutenant to be sharing the room – and bed – with her superior officer. That was something they had not even thought about anymore. They always shared when on a mission together, somehow having forgotten about the team joining at a different point in time on this one.

"What do you want?" Roy leaned against the door frame, attempting to gloss over his initial embarrassment – not to mention frustration – with irritation.

"I just happened to take a stroll by the mouth of the river," Havoc nonchalantly retold while Roy decoded. Stroll – stakeout. "It was rather hot out in the sun," hot – crowded, "so I crossed the bridge for some shade," cross the bridge – inform Fuery via telecommunication, "and would you believe it? I find an abandoned trunk floating along the shore, getting stuck just where I could reach it," he explained, leaving Roy at a loss.

Until he revealed an actual trunk. The trunk; Riza's trunk. It was soggy, dripping onto the creaking floorboards.

"But I see you're standing the circumstances just fine," Havoc coded again, this time in their own, private language. Roy returned a stern look, receiving the suitcase. While he usually appreciated their secret exchange about women to avoid chastising, he would have much rather continued instead of listening to it being hinted.

"Faring fine," he courtly retorted, ignoring the mocking glance to where he had actually begun to 'stand' from their previous activity. If only he could defend himself, yell out how this time it was not merely the unprofessional scenario in his head or the sight of her in basically anything, even including the bulky military uniform. But she would understand then, he knew, and that would entail certain death. Or no more kisses for weeks.

"Well then, carry on," Havoc grinned smugly, snickering to himself as he sauntered back down the hallway.

Closing the door, Roy suppressed to groan wholeheartedly. What a mood killer. Still, she would be happy to have her luggage back, even if it was as wet as all of her other clothes.

"Look what he found," Roy rounded the corner where she leaned against, having overheard. She nearly knocked him over to take the suitcase, frantically fiddling with the locks to open it. He watched her wrench it open, leafing through her clothes to find her rifle. She unfolded the tripod, then inspected the barrel, finally scrutinising the ammunition. Her shoulders gradually slumped, relaxing when she found everything to be wet but in order. There was a single droplet of blood on her lower lip, and he suspected his own eagerness to have been the cause.

Gently running his fingers through her hair where it fell over her shoulder, he began to clumsily braid it, keeping it out of her way. It granted a marvellous view of the tattoo on her upper back where the white shirt was soaked through.

"Then we won't have to share after all," he knelt behind her. Kissing a line from her nape to her shoulder, he slowly brushed the still partly unbuttoned shirt down her arm. He blinked in confusion when she moved away from his touch.

"We have to be more careful," she lectured, focus fixed on disassembling everything to hide it again. Shrugging the shirt back on, she began to unpack her clothes, carrying them to the bathroom for drying alongside the rest. His chest expanded in a deep sigh of disappointment.

Sitting there, hunched, he vaguely watched her feet go back and forth. Could you fire a subordinate for interrupting a heated make out session and potential sex with another subordinate? Scratch that – the potential, that was.

Sulking to himself, Roy only noticed her to have crouched down in front of him when her finger landed beneath his chin, lifting it to meet his eyes. Electricity seemed to shoot through his every nerve when she kissed his lips, pulling away before he could react.

"Tomorrow will be a long day; we should get some rest," Riza said, big eyes shining at him. But they did not just shine, they glowed. Later, they said. You have seduced me, but you have to wait, she wordlessly told him, the unspoken promise setting his heart ablaze once again. She lowered her head slightly without breaking eye contact, a soft smile gracing her lips. How did she always manage to mix alluring with adorable?

Sighing blissfully not half an hour later, Roy wound his arms around his Lieutenant, snuggling her close to him beneath the sheets. She had changed into another of his shirts, a dry one, a trace of the original playfulness left as she had not deemed it necessary to leave the room, revealing the entirety of her back to him in a most desired preview.

Sliding her own arm beneath his and around his back, Riza relaxed in his embrace, a smile on her lips as she fell asleep. And he would be patient. Diligently committed to the mission even, focusing on getting the job done as professionally and above all as quickly as possible.

For when they returned to East City and he brought her home to her flat, she only locked the door once he was inside, too.