A/N - This is a Royai, Roy whump story! It'll be six chapters total. It takes place a couple months after the end of canon, before Roy starts rebuilding Ishval.

Title is from "Socially Anxious Drinking Song" by The Amazing Devil.

This was the first military event that Roy could remember being excited for in a very, very long time. Hopefully, it would prove to be the first of many.

It had been almost three months since the Promised Day, and Roy had high hopes that things were beginning to get better. The homonculi were dead, as was Father and most of the traitorous military high command. Those who hadn't been killed had been promptly imprisoned, and the office of Fuhrer-President had passed to General Grumman. Amestris was still in a state of general upheaval, but it was still somehow less volatile than it had been.

Roy thought that in the next few months, things would settle down fairly quickly. A fair chunk of the remaining officers had been injured during the fighting, like the Armstrongs, himself, and Riza. Slowly, they'd all worked their way back to something approaching full strength, and soon enough, they'd be able to finish picking up the pieces of their country and build it back, better than ever. Tonight was the first function run by the new top brass - a party in honor of the first new State Alchemists to be selected after the Promised Day, part of a program designed to help the people of Amestris instead of oppress them. Roy hadn't met any of them yet, since he had been busy recovering and then getting his own office back in order, but he was excited to see the new representatives of Amestrian alchemy.

Roy had almost forgotten what it felt like to be optimistic, but for the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to tonight, and tomorrow, and the days after.

"Roy?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Roy turned from the window of the car to Riza. She glanced over at him, only taking her eyes off the road long enough to give him a small smile before looking back.

"I was just thinking," Roy said, watching her eyes narrow slightly at another, worse driver.

"About?"

"The future," Roy answered, and then, before he could talk himself out of it, continued. "About you."

That was true enough. They'd been dating for two months, and Roy's every waking thought was consumed with Riza. He couldn't believe they'd waited this long - Riza was a huge contributing factor to his newfound optimism.

Still, even now, they had to keep their relationship a secret - Roy was still technically her superior officer. If Roy had tried this before the removal of the homonculi, any slip would have led to a career-ending (or possibly life-ending) exposure. Even now, Roy wasn't entirely sure what would happen if the higher ups found out, but he knew it wouldn't be good. Riza was attending the party strictly as Roy's second-in-command, which was sad, certainly, but seemed necessary.

A ghost of a smile played across Riza's face. "This is no time for sentimentality."

Her voice was light. Roy knew she was probably right, but he also knew she didn't really care. He didn't either.

Roy had dated before, and he'd thought he'd known what to expect. But all those other girls…it just hadn't felt like this. Being with Riza made everything easier. Even when she wasn't even there, things were just easier knowing that later she would be. It was easier to go to the store and pick up food for dinner. It was easier to go to work and get all his paperwork done. It was easier to fall asleep, and it was easier to stay asleep. It was easier for him to express his feelings in words, something he didn't think he'd ever been able to do before with anyone.

They'd only been dating two months, but it already felt like they'd been together pretty much a lifetime. He knew most couples claimed to feel like that, but he was confident that they were wrong and that his situation was special.

After the Promised Day, the Philosopher's Stone had repaired his vision, but it had taken a couple of weeks to fully come back. His hands had still recovering from being run through by Bradley's swords - they'd been almost embarrassingly weak and his fine motor skills had been shot. Riza had been weak from blood loss, and the injury to her neck had made it hard for her to get comfortable. Since neither of them felt particularly settled in Central anyways, they'd decided things would be easier if they moved in together, only temporarily, and could look after each other.

And then they'd kissed in the kitchen, and then they'd started going on dates, and then the move had started to feel pretty permanent. When Roy had thought about dating Riza in the past, his daydreams had always been made up of a life of furtive kisses and secret meetings, and maybe this was a little more likely to get them in trouble but it was so, so much better.

"We'll be there in a few minutes," Riza said gently. "You need to stop looking at me like that."

Roy realized he'd been staring silently at Riza for who knew how long. But she was pretty, and he'd wanted to. He jerked his head forward, looking out at the road.

"Maybe we should just tell everyone at the party," Roy said. He was kidding, and she knew it.

"Maybe I should just transfer then," Riza said. She was also joking - they'd had this conversation before. Both of them knew Riza could work for pretty much anyone in Central Command at this point, but Roy wanted her by his side.

He wanted her by his side all the time, at work and out of work. And even if he couldn't say that to anyone else, he could say it to Riza, and that made everything significantly better than it had been before.

Riza pulled the car to a stop, pausing before getting out and leaving it to the valet. "You really do have to stop looking at me like that." She was blushing slightly now, and Roy was sitting next to the most beautiful woman in the world and it was really ridiculously unfair that he couldn't tell that to everyone he met.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lieutenant," Roy said stiffly, and Riza's blush faded into a small smile. With a satisfied nod, she opened the car door and Roy tried to stop from watching her climb down and hand the keys to the valet attendant.

This was a military function, but because the honorees were new State Alchemists, who might not be used to all the rules and regulations, the dress code was formal attire instead of an official uniform. Riza was wearing a long, high-necked dress with a slit up the side. She'd bought it specifically for the occasion, and Roy was prepared to find it horribly distracting the entire night.

But even though he couldn't tell anyone the truth about their relationship, he was still thrilled to go into the party with the best-looking person there beside him. They might not know that she was his girlfriend, but by now everyone knew that Colonel Roy Mustang and Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye were a matched set, and Roy was willing to bet that he would make some people jealous.

Quickly, Roy got out of the car after Riza, resisting the urge to offer her his arm. That would come later, when things settled down. He'd figure out a way. Somehow. For now, it was enough to be walking in step with her, knowing that the evening awaited them, and they'd only have eyes for each other.

It was all well and good for Riza to warn Roy against staring at her all night, but she was finding it hard to follow her own advice. She was nervous to be found out, probably more nervous than Roy was. She was, after all, a far lower rank, and not a State Alchemist. But Roy was dressed in a tuxedo, with his hair slicked back and the proper amount of cologne rather than too much, and he was there with her. Finally, after ten years of a stupid, lovesick, nearly all-consuming crush that she was just now admitting to herself, she was getting used to the idea that he'd felt the same way the entire time. Things still felt strange and new, but…they were better now. Much better.

Roy generally liked this sort of function more than Riza did. He could be introverted and a little nervous around people, but that was tempered by a healthy dose of ego, and it generally evened out into a desire to be paid attention to and admired. Riza had neither the anxiety or the self-image to balance it, and she would generally rather be at home reading a book and drinking tea.

She was curious to see an event like this through Roy's eyes. She was even more curious to see it through her own eyes, from her position by his side.

They made their way to the front door of the lavish mansion where the event was being held. Many of the guests had traveled much farther than Roy and Riza, and would be staying the night in the mansion's upper floor. Roy and Riza had thought about staying overnight after the party as well, but they wouldn't be able to get rooms together, and a late night in their own apartment sounded better than that.

The majority of the party would take place in a sort of ballroom on the first floor, which must double as a dining room, since dinner would be served midway through. They made their way through huge double doors, and Riza caught a quick glimpse of the splendor of the ballroom before they were stopped by a young man who seemed to be running some sort of coat check.

"Weapons, please," he said, holding his hand out.

"What?" Riza said sharply.

"You need to check the weapons at the door," the man said, not really engaging with her and sounding like he'd been repeating the same few phrases all night. "No weapons allowed inside the party."

Riza had chosen the dress mostly for Roy's benefit, but also so she could access a small gun strapped to her upper thigh. After everything that had happened, she hadn't really wanted to be without a weapon, just in case. She looked to Roy, who nodded his encouragement. She bent slightly and yanked the whole holster off, handing it angrily to the man.

"You'll get it back at the end of the night," he assured her.

Riza frowned. But Roy was already walking forward, and Riza didn't want to be separated. She followed him into the ballroom.

The giant room was, in Riza's opinion, over-decorated. There was far too much gold, and gold leaf, and whatever else the decorator could find that was shiny and expensive-looking. There were a number of small tables dotted about, set with drinks and canapes, clustered with various members of military command. In the back of the ballroom, a massive table had been set up for the ceremonial dinner. That, too, glittered and glistened with polished silverware and golden place settings. Everywhere she looked, there were bright, almost dazzling sparkles, clashing with each other and with the various attire of the partygoers.

If the ballroom itself hadn't been overwhelming enough, the people within it would have pushed it over the edge. Riza was starting to realize that she'd never seen most of these people out of uniform. She was sure that she would be able to recognize everyone, but part of her was afraid that she would mistake a face, or misremember a name, and end up embarrassing both herself and Roy.

As if to prove her point, a tall, blonde woman in a grey sheath dress walked by them, pausing as if she might know them. Riza had a moment of panic, trying desperately to think of who she might be missing, when the woman turned around and revealed herself to be General Armstrong.

Riza had, of course, never seen the General in anything other than a military uniform. If she had been asked to think about it, she might have guessed that the General never wore anything other than a military uniform. She certainly couldn't ever have imagined her in a well-made, elegant dress.

Beside her, she didn't have to see his expression to tell that Roy looked petrified. Before the Promised Day, his main way of communicating with Olivier had been to ask her for dates that they both knew she wouldn't accept. Now that he was dating Riza, that kind of interaction was of course no longer acceptable, and he hadn't had much luck conversing with her at all. From the way he talked about her, the joking crush had clearly faded into a respectful terror.

Based on her own interactions with General Armstrong, Riza thought that Roy's new method of dealing with her was probably for the best. She also knew that Olivier didn't much like Roy, although if she disliked him that strongly, he'd probably be dead.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Olivier did like Riza. Which meant that the burden of this conversation would fall to her.

"Mustang," Olivier said curtly, giving a nod towards the half-frozen Roy. "And Lieutenant Hawkeye." She allowed the "hello" to remain implied.

"Your dress is lovely," Riza responded, then wished she rather hadn't.

Olivier looked confused for a moment, and then frowned. "They wouldn't let me take my sword," she said angrily. "They made me check it at the door. And I don't appreciate having to wear this ridiculous thing."

She gestured haughtily at the dress.

Next to her, Roy had the same expression as Black Hayate when he tucked his tail between his legs. He looked scared enough to start shaking. It was of course, not Roy's fault that Olivier had had to check her weapon - as upsetting as it had been for Riza as well, she knew it probably would have happened at any sort of State dinner, even if they'd been in uniforms. But the fancy clothes instead of the military uniforms….

That had been Roy's idea.

Riza knew Roy had been thinking of Edward, and trying to be kind. When Ed had first become a State Alchemist, they would never have been able to force him into a military uniform for an event like this, not for love or money. He'd have shown up wearing his…jacket, and he'd have come off as blatantly disrespectful, and the higher-ups he never would have met otherwise would have disliked him, and his progress later on would have been hampered. Of course, Edward would have done that whether he understood the consequences or not, but any new State Alchemist without military background could easily misunderstand the importance of the uniform, and Roy had suggested it might be kinder to level the playing field for this first event.

Riza suspected he'd also wanted the opportunity to wear a tuxedo, and perhaps more importantly, he'd wanted to see her in a dress. But that was incidental.

"I think it's nice to get out of the military uniforms once in a while," Riza said primly. "And personally, I enjoy being able to dress up occasionally. But I can understand the discomfort of leaving my weapon behind."

Riza felt Roy tense beside her. He seemed almost ready to start cowering behind her.

Olivier also seemed to notice this, and something in her expression shifted very slightly.

"Have you two seen each other much since the Promised Day?" she asked. "I know Mustang was only recently able to return to full time work."

Roy had ended up needing almost two months off after Promised Day, although he'd helped out as much as he could in that time. He'd needed physical therapy for his hands to recover enough to hold a pen, and his vision had been like a badly-tuned radio - some days nearly normal, some days fading in and out and causing migraines as it went. Anything that required filling out paperwork had been pretty much impossible.

Oliver made Roy's time off sound vaguely insulting. Riza knew Olivier had been injured too, but supposed she had probably returned to work right away.

And then Olivier's actual question registered.

"We've seen each other some," Riza said defensively.

"Oh." Olivier managed to make the single word sound simultaneously dismissive and all-knowing, as though she was fully aware what "some" meant, but still couldn't care less. Riza felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Somehow, despite all the conversations and preparation for this event, they hadn't managed to be subtle at all, and apparently everyone was going to be able to tell that they were dating.

Or maybe not everyone. Riza tried desperately to console herself with the knowledge that Roy had spent every past interaction asking Olivier on some sort of horrible date, and the fact that he hadn't done it this time was probably Olivier's main proof that he was with Riza. She supposed it wasn't too late for him to try hitting on Olivier, but she wasn't sure how to signal to him that it was something she was okay with. Maybe she could kick him? If only their best code didn't rely on a long, uninteresting conversation full of made-up people, if only they had thought of something quicker and easier for this eventuality….

Beside her, Roy seemed happily unaware. "Of course we've seen each other! Even when I was on leave, I needed to stay caught up as much as possible. Lieutenant Hawkeye is my most trusted aide."

"Of course," Olivier said blandly. She turned to Riza, gave her a knowing sort of nod, and then looked back at Roy. "I'm sure that I'll be seeing both of you again soon."
She turned and walked away, moving alarmingly fast in her sensible (yet fairly high) heels, and Riza tried to decide just how worried she should be.

Roy watched Olivier recede in the distance with a vague feeling of proud relief. That marked one of the first conversations that he and Riza had had (as a couple) with someone who could land them in trouble, and it had gone-

"You didn't ask her on a date," Riza hissed furiously in his ear.

"I…what? Of course I didn't!" Roy looked at his Lieutenant, wondering if she'd somehow had three to five glasses of wine without him noticing.

"She knows we're…." Riza trailed off into a polite cough, presumably in case Olivier had snuck back to spy on them.

"No she doesn't," Roy said reflexively.

"Yes, she does," Riza whispered. "It was very clear. I'm surprised you didn't notice."

Roy swallowed the truth, which was that he had been too busy being utterly petrified by fear, and went with a different truth. "I don't think that she cares enough about what I'm doing to notice things like that. I'm sure everything will be fine."

"She might think that she can leverage greater power if you're publicly disgraced for dating your second in command," Riza said darkly. Despite himself, Roy was startled into a giggle, and after a second of keeping her poker face, Riza laughed too.

"Honestly, I may have worn her down," Roy said.

"What?"

"What you're seeing now is disappointment. She was hoping I would ask her on a date. This was the time she was finally going to say yes."

"Roy!" Riza giggled.

"I'm serious, you should watch out. If she knows, she's going to see you as the competition…"

"You're too young for her."

Roy frowned. "How old is Olivier anyways? I've always-"

Roy was interrupted by footsteps behind him, and the sound of a booming, familiar voice.

"I want to introduce you to Colonel Roy Mustang," Alex Louis Armstrong said. "Hero of Promised Day."

A mix of pride and relief swept over Roy, so great it almost knocked him off his feet. He felt horrifying and unexpected tears start to prickle at the back of his eyes.

Hero of Promised Day.

Roy had spent years as the Hero of Ishval. A name he'd wanted more than anything to shake. It marked him as a blind, obedient servant to the military, a mad dog just waiting to be unleashed. A weapon. A murderer. People had whispered it in awe and fear, in a way that suggested it may be a compliment. But it was just a constant reminder of the worst mistake Roy had ever made. And even worse, it had reminded him that he was the sort of person who made that kind of mistake - that he could be ordered to kill, and he would do it so well they would praise him for it.

Hero of Promised Day.

Was that what they were calling him now? He hadn't known there was another option. A new, better name, said with the same respect as Hero of Ishval had been.

Hero of Promised Day.

Hero of Ishval had never lifted him up. It had served mostly to remind him of his place in the pocket of the military, and his role as a dangerous, inhuman tool. But Hero of Promised Day - that made him want to do better. It made him want to be the man Riza saw in him. He had helped save this country, and now he wanted to…to fix it. He wanted to earn the respect that title conveyed.

"Thank you, I-"

And then Roy turned around, and froze.

He recognized the man standing next to Major Armstrong. The man who had been selected to be one of Amestris's new State Alchemists. The man that he'd last seen a very, very long time ago, and had assumed he'd never see again.

The man standing before him, wearing a formal suit and a slimy, insincere smile, was named Karl Stark. Roy recognized him as the alchemist who'd trained Kimblee.

"Colonel Mustang! It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"

Roy was dimly aware that Stark was holding out his hand to be shaken, but in an instant, Roy seemed to have lost all control of his body. He was standing, locked and frozen, and the party would have to move on without him. The world would have to move on without him. He might have to stay, standing here rigid, until the party and the people vanished around him.

He'd kind of assumed Stark was dead. He hadn't seen him in years, not since before Ishval. When he'd been a boy, learning alchemy from Bertoldt Hawkeye, Stark had come around occasionally. The alchemy he used was similar in some ways to the fire alchemy Bertoldt had created, and Bertoldt would sometimes allow Stark to compare notes. Roy had been a part of some of these discussions, and now, he couldn't remember a single thing he'd learned from them. The only thing he could remember was the creeping unease that interactions with Stark always carried with them.

Stark was terrifying, a cold, calculating man that seemed to view the world from a fundamentally darker place than Roy could really understand. For years, he'd thought he'd never meet anyone else like the older alchemist, and he was deeply thankful for that.

And then, in Ishval, he'd met Kimblee. The "Crimson Alchemist" reminded him so strongly of Stark that it was uncanny, and then as soon as he'd seen Kimblee's explosions, he'd known there was a connection. A little bit later, during a conversation that Roy hadn't been quick enough to escape, Kimblee had confirmed it. He'd said that Stark had taught him, having recognized a "kindred spirit."

Roy had left with his skin crawling, and the same heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach that was growing in him now. He hadn't been exactly surprised that Stark had found a fellow monster like Kimblee, not after beginning to see the other horrors the world contained, but it left him deeply uneasy. Kimblee had always been unlikable, horrifying even, but that was when Roy began to hate him in earnest. He hadn't at all been surprised when Kimblee had murdered his commanding officers - if anything, he was surprised that it hadn't happened sooner.

But he'd thought that was the end of it. Kimblee had gone to jail, and Roy had never heard of Stark again. He'd assumed that the man was dead, or had left Amestris, or possibly even had been arrested in the aftermath of Promised Day.

But he wasn't dead, or in any sort of trouble whatsoever. He was here, standing before Roy and Riza, and Amestris was honoring him for having the skill to create an animal like Kimblee.

Nothing had changed after all.

Roy thought the hope he had felt a minute ago might be making the crushing disappointment worse. He had felt so…sure that things would be getting better…and now….

Riza had met Stark too. They'd talked about him before together, trying to piece together exactly what they remembered of the terrifying man. Roy knew she had hated him. He'd never laid a hand on her - Roy probably would have already hunted him down and killed him if he had - but he had made her feel afraid, and that was almost as bad. Riza had long held some small fear that he might try to track her down and get the secrets of flame alchemy off of her. They had no idea if he even knew where they were hidden, and now here he was….

Maybe Roy was overthinking this. He'd been frozen for far too long. Surely there couldn't be a danger here, at this party, in front of all these people?

But Stark was there in front of Roy. And the hairs on the back of Roy's neck were standing up. Something was wrong, something must be wrong.

Roy still hadn't shook Stark's hand - even if he could have brought himself to, his body really didn't seem to be under his own control anymore. Stark let his own hand drop back to his side, which was a relief. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Roy knew that it might be awkward that he hadn't taken the offered hand. But being awkward was far better than having to touch Stark.

Roy also recognized that Major Armstrong was staring at him blankly. Roy opened his mouth, hoping to say something, but he couldn't seem to find the words. Stiffly, he turned towards Riza, wanting to confirm that she recognized him too.

Riza was already looking at Roy. It was clear from her wide, scared eyes and the thin set of her mouth that she did.

Roy did not want Riza to look like that. It wasn't fair that she had to look like that. Roy didn't know what he was going to do about it yet, but he knew that it wasn't going to be pretty.