A/N: Standard disclaimers apply. Happy reading!

"Why didn't you say your dad's apprentice was so attractive!"

Riza looked up from the embroidery in her lap. "What?"

"Your dad's apprentice is a dream, Riza! You can't say you've never noticed. I won't believe you." Rebecca bowed her head to focus on the intricate detailing of her own pattern, a smirk on her face.

"I've known him since he was fifteen and lankier than a newborn calf," Riza replied.

"That was years ago. There's no way you don't find him attractive, Ri. Even I find him attractive."

"I'll admit he's good looking," Riza said as she continued to work her needle through the cotton fabric in her hands. "But didn't you say he was short?"

"Oh, you know me. I like watching important men squirm," Rebecca giggled. "Hand me the shears, will you?"

"Here," Riza said, handing Rebecca the scissors. "But it doesn't matter if he's good looking. He's working for my father and I'm apparently going to be the next Mrs. Bradley- remember?"

"I wasn't asking for you. I was asking for me."

"Oh," Riza had to strain to keep her voice even.

"Will you reintroduce me? Properly this time?"

"Um, yeah... Sure." A flicker of disappointment flashed over Riza's expression.

"HA! I knew it!" Rebecca jumped out of her seat, startling Riza mid-stitch and driving the needle straight into her thumb.

"What the hell Rebecca!" Riza screamed as pulled the needle out of her skin and began to suck on the wound. "What was that for?"

"I knew you liked him!" Rebecca pointed to Riza. "I knew it!"

"I do not, Rebecca," Riza said, wincing at the small puncture wound in her finger.

"Oh, really, then why were you so startled?"

"I don't know- maybe because you hopped out of your seat like you saw a ghost! Do you have a handkerchief? I seem to have pricked my thumb rather well."

Rebecca pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and walked over to Riza to inspect her injury. She wrapped the cloth around her thumb tightly. "There. The pressure should stop the bleeding. Don't worry if the blood stains." She then sat back down, her needlework abandoned and looked Riza in the eyes. "You don't expect me to believe you lack feelings for him, do you?"

Riza rolled her eyes. "Rebecca, I've known him since I was eleven."

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"Mister Mustang has always treated me with the professional respect expected of an apprentice. That's all."

"But you two are friends," Rebecca corrected. "I saw how he picked up on your signals at dinner. He seemed to be able to read you well."

"Sure," Riza sighed. With her non-injured hand, she twirled the parts of the handkerchief that were not wrapped around her thumb. "We are friends. I enjoy his company and conversation. But that's all Rebecca. Mister Mustang has never implied that he sees our relationship as anything else and neither have I."

"I thought he was a Lieutenant-Colonel?"

"He is, but he requested I don't use his rank outside of military functions. It's a mouthful- oh don't give me that look," Riza admonished. "I have no doubt he would insist on you calling him Mister Mustang as well."

"Why can't you just admit you like him?"

"Because I don't. Maybe when I was fourteen, but I'm twenty years old and if my father has his way, I'll be a married woman soon. This conversation is inappropriate and dangerous, Rebecca." Riza's voice was firm and quiet.

Rebecca knew that Riza would not elaborate any further on the matter. Her best friend had a valid point. Riza Hawkeye was as off-limits in society as she could be without a formal engagement announcement. Still, Rebecca's heart rippled with sadness as she noticed the subtle sigh Riza let out before undressing her thumb and focusing back on her stitching.

/-/-/

Two weeks went by and Roy found himself buried in his work with Master Hawkeye. After he successfully negotiated a new contract with Ms. Lavender- who managed to slip into the conversation that she was newly widowed not once, but three times- Berthold had given Roy a list of clients throughout East City to call upon. Luckily, most of them were men. Growing up in the back of a bar had blessed Roy with outstanding charisma and charm. While Berthold had as many social skills as a snake, Roy easily smiled his way into renewing contract after contract for the factories Berthold owned.

"You've done exceptionally well, my boy," Berthold praised as he poured the pair a glass of scotch. Roy took a seat at the end of the desk, eagerly accepting the midafternoon drink. The liquor stung Roy's throat but he quickly finished his glass nonetheless. "I have a dinner appointment with the Doctors Rockbell tonight. I was going to ask you to accompany me, but I don't want to run you ragged. Take the evening off. Tomorrow as well. You've earned it." He refilled Roy's glass with a generous pour.

"Thank you, sir," Roy said with a nod. "It might be nice to take the day to visit some friends in the city."

"A well-deserved day off," Berthold said, the closest he would get to a smile on his face.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to do before I retire before dinner?"

"No, you're free to go. Enjoy your evening Mustang."

/-/-/

Roy entered the dining room to find Riza had beaten him to the table. Her father must have informed her he would be skipping dinner because she had not bothered to dress up for the meal. She looked up at him from the other side of the table and smiled.

He had been so consumed with work since moving in that they only interacted during meals. With Roy's return to the manor, Berthold began to regularly attend dinner, leaving Riza to spend her evening quietly eating as she listened to her father engage his former apprentice with all matters of business. He was less likely to join them for breakfast and Roy had found that his meals with only Riza were his favorite.

He decided it was because she didn't spend the entire time talking about war, business or social affairs. Riza would chat with him about the weather, her shooting and the letters he would receive from his sisters. Grumman spent their chess matches both lecturing Roy on his recovery and praising him for his potential. Berthold would boast about Roy's nack for the business the entire meal. Riza… Riza just expected him to be himself.

"How was work today?" Riza asked once he had sat down.

"Exhausting," Roy answered honestly.

"Any widows?"

"No, thankfully." Roy playfully shuddered.

"Why are middle age women so into you?" Riza asked, a small smile crossing the corner of her mouth.

"If you can figure it out please let me know so I can make sure to never do it again." He flashed her a lopsided grin. "Your father was kind enough to give me tomorrow off."

"Nice to hear he loosened the chains."

They made eye contact for a moment before quickly averting their eyes and focusing on their meal. The two sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as they devoured the pot pie prepared by the Hawkeye family cook.

How did Bradley get lucky enough that he will soon get to spend every night with Riza, sitting at the dinner table and throwing playful banter around?

Roy flinched at this daunting realization. His reaction was far from subtle and he held his breath and waited for Riza to ask what was on his mind that caused him to outright jerk. Luckily, she didn't.

"Have you ever thought of leaving the military and coming to work for my father full time?" Riza asked, breaking the silence. "He would hire you as an associate in a heartbeat."

"No," Roy answered. He could see her surprise at his words so he elaborated. "I'm grateful for everything your father taught me, but you can't change the world managing factories and negotiating contracts."

"Is that what you were doing in Ishval?"

Roy knew she meant well with her question, but this time, she noticed when he flinched.

"I'm sorry, Mister Mustang. Did something I say upset you?"

"No. The war is just difficult to talk about," he frowned. "It wasn't glamourous and it certainly wasn't bettering our world. No, if anything Ishval has made me more determined to crawl up the ranks and create real change in Amestris."

"You've always been ambitious." Her words were confident, but her voice wavered, afraid of upsetting him again. She finished her meal and placed her utensils on her plate. "There's carrot cake for dessert. I baked it myself."

As if on cue, a member of the household staff entered the room to whisk away their dinner plates and replace them with a slice of carrot cake and a cup of coffee with cream.

"This is delicious," Roy said as he shoved the cake into his mouth. He motioned to the servant for another slice. "Almost as good as your pies."

"Father doesn't like when I bake, so I decided to take advantage of his absence," Riza said as she took a bite herself.

"He doesn't like it when you bake? You used to bake for us all the time, especially around the holidays."

Riza shrugged. "He didn't start to mind until after I was finished with school. He said real women in society don't bake. They have staff for that. I can only hope Lord Bradley doesn't share his views."

As it always did at the mention of her potential marriage, the pleasant mood in the room vanished.

"That always manages to come up and ruin the mood, doesn't it?" Roy said.

"It's going to change every aspect of my life. I can't help but dwell on it," Riza sighed. She no longer had an appetite for her dessert and put her fork down.

"Then let's not talk about it again. Not for tonight anyway. No mentions of weddings, marriage, business-"

"-war" Riza offered, interrupting him. She smiled at him, her eyes wide.

"Yes, we will have none of that." Roy finished his second slice of carrot cake and internally debated requesting a third. He decided against it and took a sip of his coffee instead. "That was delicious, thank you."

"You're very welcome."

"Do you want to join me in the library for a game of chess?" Roy asked as the servants were clearing the dinner table. He stood up and put both hands in his jacket pockets. "I could benefit from the extra practice for next time I play Grumman and you- well frankly you're terrible. You could use all the practice you can get."

"Roy Mustang!" Riza exclaimed with a laugh. She stood up from her seat and made her way over to where he was standing. She poked him in the chest twice. "I'll have you know that our last chess match was the first game I've played in about five years!"

"Even more of a reason. Practice makes perfect." He smirked. "I'll go get my chess set from my suite. I'll meet you in the library."

The Hawkeye library was cozy. Bookshelves lined the walls and the furniture was warm and inviting. Unlike Master Hawkeye's study, the room was welcoming, encouraging the manor's residents to sit back and relax. A fire roared from the wall and Riza had turned the electric lights on, filling the room with a soft yellow glow.

She was curled up in the far left corner of the room on one of the well-worn couches, a fleece blanket across her lap and a glass of wine in her hands.

"I took the liberty of pouring you a glass," she said softly as he approached. She motioned to the side table on the opposite side of the couch where his wine was sitting. "Pull the table over a bit and we can use it for the game."

"I typically start my games with a friendly wager, but I'll spare you the humiliation," Roy teased as he took a seat beside her on the couch. He pulled the rest of the fleece blanket over his legs before he opened up the chess set and started to set the game up. They began playing, sipping their wine and playfully teasing each other on their decisions.

"I'll allow you to take that move back, but just this once," Roy said after Riza's last move.

She frowned. "Why? Where did I mess up?"

"Wow do you have a lot to learn," Roy said as he brought his head to his hands and began to rub his forehead. "For starters, you left your queen wide open. She's the most important piece. If you're serious about winning you can't do that."

"I thought the king was the most important piece. Without him, the game is over," Riza said. She finished her wine and placed the empty glass on the table beside the chessboard.

"Oh no," Roy's face left his hands and shook his head. "It's all about the queen. The king is weak, with limited power and mobility. Without his queen, he is left wide open and vulnerable. He's nothing without her."

Riza's cheeks flushed bright red as she felt the effects of the alcohol. She poured herself another half glass, taking a prolonged sip before looking up at Roy. "Behind every successful man is a powerful woman."

"Exactly," Roy said. He moved closer to Riza and reached across her, his fingers grazed her knee, putting her chess pieces back in their original spot. "Now, try again. Protect your queen at all costs. She's too precious to lose."

Riza pursed her lips as she examined the game, taking the time to contemplate her next move. Hesitantly, she picked up one of her bishops and moved it forward. She let go of the piece and slowly looked at Roy. "Better?"

"Much," he smiled. He quickly moved his piece in response. "Check."

"You said I was improving!"

"You are. I failed to mention this game was going to be over in three to five moves no matter what you did," Roy gave Riza a lopsided grin. "You'll get there, Lady Hawkeye."

"You're insufferable," Riza said with a growl. "More wine? We may as well finish the bottle so we can properly dispose of the evidence."

"Yes, thank you." He held out his glass. Without thinking about the words leaving his mouth, Roy turned to her. "Your father gave me tomorrow off. I plan to go into the city to visit some friends. Would you like to accompany me?"

"Um." The blush in Riza's cheeks grew deeper. "Go with you?"

"Yes," Roy said as he took a sip of wine. "I always enjoy introducing my friends to each other."

Riza frowned internally as she realized she was far too tipsy to read deeper into his words. "I'd like that," she says finally, her voice even. "I doubt father would notice my absence."

"Great," Roy said as he quickly drank the rest of his glass. "It's getting late. We may want to call it a night before your father returns and finds out his daughter got drunk on my watch."

"I'm not drunk!"

"You certainly played chess like you were," Roy smiled as he removed the blanket from Riza's lap. He collected his chess set from the table before turning to bid her goodnight. "I plan to leave around noon tomorrow, Miss Hawkeye. Sweet dreams."