Hey!

Thanks for your review and for answering my question, Transparent Space! Following that, here's another 'getting caught by one of the team' chapter, starring Master Sergeant Fuery :D

I imagined the Lullaby of Resembool (not Resembool's Lullaby, confusingly enough) here as the waltz, the one with the three pizzicatos as the beginning, but you can of course choose whichever piece you like.

Hope you'll enjoy! Would love to know if you did.

Where Fuery Dances On Razor's Edge

Fuery yelped when Hayate pulled on the leash, almost sending the poor Master Sergeant face first into the wall. He released the leash, catching himself on the door frame. Cringing, he had to watch as Hayate stormed his mommy's apartment, splattering the mud of his paws and belly everywhere he went.

Great, Fuery thought, just great. He had received the First Lieutenant's key to walk her dog, seeing as she had to stay late at the office, working overtime as usual. (Staying to watch the Colonel who had slacked off too much as usual.)

Having been glad about the rain, which had plagued them the entire day, to have let up just when picking up his canine friend, Fuery had realised to have celebrated prematurely. The streets and parks were soaked, and if there was one thing Hayate loved more than his three favourite people – one of which Fuery could proudly call himself a part of – it was mud. Mud and water and puddles. He downright leapt into them.

So, with the achievement of at least having kept the Shiba Inu from wallowing through the mud, naturally at the cost of his previously shiny boots, Fuery had hoped the puddles on the way back to wash most of the mud off. Only now, the floor was smudged with mud and water, paw prints already leading to what Fuery assumed to be the bedroom – praying inwardly that the dog had not jumped up on the bed – and around the table, kitchen and entrance.

"Oh boy," Fuery lamented himself. He glanced at his wristwatch. It was nearly quarter past ten – the Lieutenant was bound to come home soon. At least knowing where the dog food was, Fuery only had to open the respective cupboard.

Hayate came running, splattering more dirt across the room. He skidded into a halt, sitting down like the (usually) good boy he was. Fuery grabbed the collar.

"Alright, first we gotta get you dry," he lightly pulled, opening the first door. The bathroom. Bingo. "Then I'll have to clean up this mess," he explained. Hayate ruefully glanced over his shoulder, but stayed put when Fuery told him to. "You already ate before we left," he reminded. Looking around the admittedly tiny bathroom, he searched for what might be approved for fur and mud. The last thing he wanted was to ruin some perfectly white towel.

Hung over a small electic heater, there was a towel. A dark one, wrinkled and littered with dog hair. Perfect. It would have been a surprise if the Lieutenant didn't have a towel for her dog during a week this rainy.

Hayate wagged his tail when being approached with the towel. Rolling up his sleeves, Fuery came to crouch next to him. He really was a good boy, and although the Master Sergeant felt sorry for the Lieutenant's frequent Colonel-Babysitting-Duties, he was more than glad to unburden her by taking care of Hayate. He enjoyed the fresh air, a nice walk after hours of sitting, and the friendly face that was always happy to see him. It almost made him a little jealous, as he would love a dog of his own, not minding his afterwork task in the slightest.

Just then, the front door opened. Fuery had not yet dried off the front legs when Hayate bolted away, excitedly barking on his way to the door, splashing Fuery with mud. He rushed out so quickly, the bathroom door swung open and closed again, nearly all the way. Fuery winced, pulling an uncomfortable face. Not only the dog, but the entire apartment still was a shambles.

Riza greeted Hayate in the entrance, her gentle scold and then sigh at the chaos sounding around the door to where Fuery still cowered. At least she was not angry, merely understandably tired, he thought. He was just about to get up and apologise when a new voice joined the reunion.

"If this isn't a proper mess," the Colonel's voice patronisingly assessed. Fuery froze on the spot.

"I know what you're doing," the Lieutenant dryly replied. "Don't pretend you're off any better than him, Mister I-don't-have-to-do-my-work-if-only-I-wait-long-enough," she chided. It took Fuery a moment to realise that the Colonel might have been trying to get into a better light while competing for her with the dog. It was hard to decide whether to laugh or puff his chest with pride, knowing he was number two above the Colonel on Hayate's ranking. Not that the dog was Mustang's aim.

"You were offering," Roy innocently retorted, throwing his hands up in defence. She shot him a look, none of which Fuery could see. "Anyway," the Colonel stretched, and Fuery wanted to take the chance to reveal himself, when his superior continued, "I'm feeling like a shower," he said, paralysing the poor Sergeant anew. "You're welcome to join," Roy leaned close to his Lieutenant, seductiveness playing in his tone as he wiggled his brows. Now out of the entrance and out of their boots, Fuery could see the two through the ajar door, blushing profusely as he noiselessly shrank into the corner.

"I already told you no," Riza lifted her chin instead of backing away, not yet softened by him but a lot softer than expected – than she would be in the office. She eluded the arm the Colonel wanted to wrap around her to get even closer and keep her there, maybe even kiss her, Fuery speculated with his head flushed up to his ears at the thought. "You always take forever to wash my hair and I really just want to go to bed," she rejected. Fuery's head was steaming by now. And here he had thought his womaniser of a superior to be overstepping the mark with such a ridiculous suggestion. Now he understood perfectly well – and from a more reliable source than Mustang – that it was, in fact, not just wishful thinking on the Colonel's behalf, but that they did apparently shower together. And not just once.

Staying balanced while overheating was starting to drain him, a feverish burn stretching from his neck to the tips of his ears.

"But I get to brush it before bed?" Roy cajoled and she sighed mildly in defeat.

"You get to brush it before bed," she affirmed. Fuery held his breath, seeing the clandestine smile she tried to hide by turning her back on her superior.

"Yesss," the latter hissed in triumph.

She then strolled into the kitchen, asking Hayate whether he had already had dinner, wondering aloud, and Fuery knew he really should have been piping up by now, telling her the dog had already eaten. Still, he was by far too embarrassed to go out now. How was he even supposed to face the Colonel, right there in the Lieutenant's apartment? And after having heard that.

On the other hand, it was quite plausible – actually inevitable thanks to Mustang's announcement – that he would get caught as soon as either of them walked into the bathroom, and he would rather not be caught creeping around in her apartment by the Colonel, fearing to be included in the little rivalry for her affection and/or be scorched.

He grimaced when hearing dog food tumble into the bowl. Riza hummed while filling it, seemingly too tired to demand any dog commandos.

"Isn't that the song from the radio?" the Colonel asked.

"I can't seem to get it out of my head," she interrupted herself, then told Hayate to wait. "We have to get you cleaned up first," she ascertained, getting up. Fuery instinctively ducked further into the corner when her steps came towards the bathroom. When they did not reach him, his ears perked again, wondering why they did not stop either.

"What are you doing?" her voice came, slightly annoyed. Roy was humming her song, his own steps swishing over the gradually drying floor.

"Finishing it," he said. Peering through the ajar door without making a sound, Fuery saw her slight yet abating reluctance as she let her superior lead her into a waltz. "Otherwise you'll be singing it until tomorrow," he argued, tugging her even closer. She rolled her eyes. Again, that small smile of not-too-reluctant defeat crowned her lips.

Humming in her stead, Roy twirled his Lieutenant around, only to pull her back in, his arm possessively winding around her until there was no gap between their chests. For a singing as clumsy as his, their dance was an admittedly graceful one. Fuery remembered the two to have practised together for an undercover mission once, never having given it another thought since then.

Riza smiled more now, mostly at her partner's miserable attempts at singing. No matter how often he initiated a turn for her, he always scooped her up into position, seemingly closer with every time. His lids hung low and a suave smirk plucked at the corner of his lips, his humming vibrating through their torsos. At some point, she even joined the piece, harmonising his pitch. She was mellowing significantly, not only by his charm, but by his goofiness which he clearly knew to put to good use. Leaning in, it was hard to tell whether he was mesmerising her, or was mesmerised by her. Fuery's head fumed with blush in any case.

When reaching the next-to-last passage, Roy's voice croaked upwards into heights his bass timber was definitely not fit to reach. Riza giggled at the breaking of his voice, so he went out of range and off tune even more, finishing the piece most undignifiedly, every squeak making her laugh more. There was no doubt about who anymore, his eyes sparkling with adoration at the sound of her laughter.

Not that there was a single doubt about his successful courting either.

Feet collided suddenly, stumbling into the chair where an undried puddle of mud had made them slip. Riza yelped, finding herself saved by the tight grasp of her superior officer. Big eyes met as they both held their breaths, the momentary shock subsiding with the certainty of his newly found balance. Silence engulfed them, a couple of quick heartbeats passing before her shoulders sank. There was not a single gap between them save for their faces, though their breaths already collided.

Roy's smiled returned, and she granted a tender one in wordless gratitude. His head dipped lower, her lips parting as if of their own accord. Fuery wanted to cover his face with his hands, not daring to move a millimetre, when he heard a new noise cut through the electrified air.

"Hayate!" Riza scolded, breaking the spell. Hayate winced. But he had waited for so long, the food right there under his nose, finally having decided that it had been long enough. And she had been playing with her mate anyway, so why waste an opportunity?

He only stopped munching loudly when she stalked over to him, having wound herself out of Roy's protective embrace. Both Roy and Hayate looked disappointed, at the loss and obtainment of her attention respectively.

She disappeared from Fuery's field of view through the ajar bathroom door, so he dared watching the Colonel instead. The latter sighed, though he did not seem too discontent. Leaning with one arm over the backrest of the chair they had accidentally danced into, propping his chin up on his hand, he watched his Lieutenant with what one could have almost called dreamily. Longingly, perhaps, despite them being together now, and with her being very much within reach.

Only she was not, Fuery was reminded then, feeling for the Colonel and the Lieutenant, knowing military laws to be in the way of what was so clearly desired. Having to be hidden behind closed doors, however secretly unsuccessfully.

A secret that was bound to be discovered, but Fuery was still distracted. The tinge of envy had returned to the Colonel's expression in the form of a frown, seeing as her full attention had instantly shifted to her dog once again. Even though, at least so Fuery thought from where he was still crouching, it was plain to see that she was quite taken by Roy's tireless advances.

"I'm sorry," Riza apologised, being met with a gentle smile, "I'll just get him a towel," she announced. Mustang nodded, and she shooed Hayate towards the bathroom. Fuery started to panic again, breaking a sweat. Not knowing what to do or how to explain himself, his eyes flashed around the bathroom. Her hand reached the handle, so, almost instinctively, he lied down, faking sleep, inwardly cursing at such a horrendously stupid idea. Why in the world would he be sleeping right now?

Riza gasped lightly upon spotting him. Steps followed, and the Colonel entered the bathroom with a frown just as bewildered at her discovery.

"Oh, he must have hit his head and fallen unconscious," she concluded without missing a beat. Another scold for Hayate, having tipped the poor boy over, making said boy whoop inwardly. Not only had she bought his lame attempt of an escape from awkwardness, but she had come up with an even better excuse than him. Or a proper excuse to begin with.

Torn for a moment, the Lieutenant, snatched her dog's towel off the ground.

"Go dry Hayate before he jumps on the bed," she shoved the towel at Roy. "There's a first aid kid in the closet; please bring that once you're done. It doesn't look like he injured himself too much," she instructed. Doing as he was told, Roy left. Another small triumph made Fuery's heart skip a beat, the audible struggle of the Colonel to get Hayate to obey making him proud of his own bond with the canine.

The annoyed voice disappeared in the bedroom. The door fell shut, trapping Hayate effectively. The Lieutenant waited a second longer, ascertaining herself that her superior was busy.

"I know you're not actually unconscious, you can drop the act," she plainly accused. Fuery wanted to gasp, supressing it. His stomach's convulsing gave him away anyway.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, scratching the back of his head. She offered her hand, and he sheepishly accepted, sitting up. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I really didn't, I just…"

"You were in the wrong place at the wrong time," she said. There was a hint of edge to her voice, something he was not quite able to decipher. His superiors having a thing for one another was nothing new to him, merely the extent it had having flustered him significantly. The fact that she was bashful, too, eluded him completely.

"Right…" was all he uneasily replied.

"Don't worry, I understand," Riza reassured. Fuery deflated with relief. She really was a lot more relaxed in private than at the office. Sweet somehow, just like the Colonel always preached her to be. "Oh, and about just now," she noted as she helped him to his feet, "tell anyone and there'll be a bullet between your eyes," she suddenly loomed over him, dead serious, scaring the heck out of him. Flinching, Fuery shrunk.

"Yes ma'am," he squeaked, bowing repeatedly. Sighing then, she put her hands on her hips.

"He got you all muddy, I'm sorry about that," she surveyed, looking him up and down. Already moved on, so it seemed, and he tried hard to adapt to her professionalism, waving it off. Bending down, she fetched a fresh towel from the cupboard beneath the sink. He made a mental note to himself to remember where she kept them, as well as to show himself right away next time – all the while hoping dearly for there not being a 'next time' he would curl up in embarrassment. Judging by her sudden threat, however, he was rather sure there would be none, seeing as she would make sure to be alone the next opportunity she allowed the Colonel to seduce her into dancing. Or whatever else he had had in mind.

"Here," Riza handed him the towel, offering him to clean up which he gladly accepted. Then she left the room, following the Colonel's curses and fruitless luring of the dog next door where it had been audible the entire time through.

Fuery turned on the tap. He rinsed his arms, the sink momentarily turning brown. When having soaked the tip of the towel, he turned the water back off again, starting by rubbing at the slowly drying stains on his shirt.

With the lack of noise, his superiors' voices carried, echoing from the tiles of the bathroom. He wondered whether they knew how understandable their conversation was, rather sure that they did not.

"So? He doesn't know I'm staying," Roy was arguing. There was a brief pause, meaningful glances being exchanged which the Master Sergeant could not see. "He is very loyal; he won't tell."

"He might if the others pressure him to – you know Havoc's on to us. He'll notice something is off," she retorted, stress thickly coating her voice. So much for more relaxed when in private, the possibility of them not only being discovered but betrayed starting to drive her insane. She vented her fear by vehemently scouring the blanket where Hayate had leaned against with his muddy flank.

Roy wreathed his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder when she straightened. It got her shoulders to drop, and she suppressed a sigh.

"It just becomes riskier the more people are involved – no one should be involved to begin with," she said, quieter now.

"Do you want to stop?" Roy asked, a short silence following. A silence speaking volumes of how torn she was between what was right and what she wanted. What they wanted.

Fuery, now frantically scrubbing his shirt in order to pretend to be busy, tried hard not to listen. But his ears seemed to extend and stretch all the way around the corner.

"You know I couldn't if I wanted to," Riza whispered. It made him stop scrubbing to be able to hear.

"Then let's not," Roy squeezed his Lieutenant once. She leaned back into him, holding on to his arms above her stomach. "And besides," Fuery heard his superior's suddenly nonchalant voice, just when his heart had stopped at what might have possibly been the light smacking of lips, "we can always get rid of him if he snoops again," Roy said, a rather morbid sense of humour ringing in his tone. Fuery winced, rubbing so hectically he almost tore the white fabric. He gulped.

Was the Colonel now on to him?