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Sunday
The sun crawled down the horizon, ringing in the evening. Soon enough, the streetlamps would turn on to replace the lights of the shop windows.
"Would you like another drink?" Roy reopened the whisky with a light pop without having to await an affirmation. He knew his guests and he knew well how to be a good host. The first droplets touched the leftover ice the second the answer came.
"Ah, yes, thank you, my boy," Albert took the glass as soon as it was refilled. Why did people have such an inclination of calling him 'boy'? It was the same with his aunt. Grumman, too, now that Roy thought about it. Twenty-five (until in two months anyway, mind you) was young for a Colonel and State Alchemist, but when talking something other than military affairs…?
Alright, perhaps that was why.
Returning his attention back to his "insurance agent", Roy saw the man lean back in the armchair he occupied. The files were on the table – investigations, hints, details about former suspects, calculations… Most of the things were not specifically required, yet acquired for the reason of later use – random details about other State Alchemists, neighbouring countries or disgustingly rich entrepreneurs.
Whenever they met, Albert would tell stories of his travels. He did so not solely to prepare Roy as not to put his foot in his mouth, but because Roy was curious. Foreign countries and cultures interested him, and knowledge about them had saved his nosy behind more than once already. It was a laid-back atmosphere when they chatted, never feeling as if there was a goal to be accomplished or a certain aim to be pursued. They talked amongst friends, shared a drink, then went their own ways.
For Albert, it was most likely the last time his path would cross Roy's. He was nearly thrice his age after all.
"Have I ever told you about that time I visited Creta without-"
"Knowing they don't drink in public?" Roy finished prematurely. "A few times," he quipped. "And that they weren't all too happy about you humming the Amestrian hymn," he added when Albert's mouth opened. It closed. Roy had to laugh. He received a shaking head, followed by a chuckle. "Where will you go after this?" Roy then asked.
"Far enough I should hope," Albert grunted with amusement. Leaning forward, a serious shadow fell over his eyes. "Things are going to get heated, and I'm not talking about the weather," he lowered his voice.
"Drachma?" Roy frowned with slight concern.
"Look further south – and before you ask," he cut off the beginning of the next question, "it's not Aerugo either," he said. Roy's frown intensified. That would have to mean Amestris, but… he pursed his lips, pensive. Albert was back to savouring his drink, plucking at a loose lint on the armrest of his chair. If it were as pressing as it had sounded, he would have mentioned it before. It must have meant danger, though in the far future, Roy concluded. Albert could do that; predict something bad.
At least one always knew what not to bet on when he voiced a presumption.
"I'll keep my ears open," Roy said.
"Better not close your eyes either," Albert laughed. "Though you haven't been blinded by fame yet; how's life as the Flame Alchemist these days?" he asked. Just then, the front door's lock rattled. Both men were a silent whirlwind of turning over pages, presenting the alibi insurance information on the backs. Albert did not know he could trust Riza – he did not know who was coming into the Colonel's home with their own key to begin with.
"Expensive," was all Roy replied when the door opened. He enjoyed a good equivocal conversation.
"So is replacing a burned down house," Albert twinkled with the same enthusiasm. There was rustling in the entrance, and Riza's voice came as a hushed scold when Hayate nearly pulled her off her feet as he desperately tried to peek into the living room. She had known that there would be a visitor, so she had kept hold of the leash.
She emerged without her coat but still in boots, as was proper, her hair down in that way Roy adored. It made him want to touch it at all times, brush it behind her ear, bury his nose in it. He had been graced with it all day during their completion marathon of the paperwork due on Monday – her hair and civilian clothes. His eyes had strayed from the mercilessly tiny printed paragraphs to her calves more than once.
He stood when she came over to politely greet Albert. Roy overtook the leash from her when Hayate could not decide whether to happily greet Roy or growl at the stranger.
"It's alright," Albert soothed, then smiled at Hayate. Patting his thigh, he leaned forward again to whistle invitingly. Since neither Riza nor Roy were tense, Hayate bounded over the second he was released. He nearly made the documents fly, but neither Roy nor Albert dashed into motion as not to seem panicked. Not that Roy minded her seeing, but he was not going to share any of that.
"Don't jump, Hayate," Riza gently reprimanded. It took effect right away. His tail was unstoppable however, and he sniffed the table and the whiskey before hopefully checking the kitchen for some dinner. Or whatever Roy 'accidentally' dropped when Riza was not looking. The floor was spotless and sometimes still slightly wet from being licked.
"Why," Albert rose to his feet, extending a hand, "I didn't know you were no longer on the market," he said to Roy as he shook Riza's hand. "You must be his wife," he let go, sinking back into the armchair with a huff that spoke of old bones. Roy's heart skipped a beat, and he answered more quickly than she had the time to process the assumption.
"Yes," he said. His hand landed on her waist. He could not resist a tug for her hip to meet his. His wife, god, it felt good to even think that. Riza raised a brow at him. He returned his most charming grin. It was too good to be true, he knew. Not to mention there was no ring – no way to act along for her, even if she would have tried. Nothing in the house betrayed a married couple; no coat or shoes in the entrance since she had just worn them.
A nice fantasy, but a short one.
"Fiancée," Riza corrected. Sending her superior's pulse flying off every chart. Her eyes met his, nearly making his racing heart stop in its tracks. Easily, lovingly, she smiled at him, playing the part perfectly. As if on a mission, Roy reminded himself. She was not doing it like him for the feeling, but because her sense of duty was telling her to stay loyal to whatever craziness he came up with. "I almost lost the ring in the sink, so we're having it resized," she explained at the lack of said item. She held the naked finger up for emphasis.
Albert laughed heartily, nodding his understanding. Buying the excuse – perhaps to save their faces, or perhaps because she was convincing enough. The twinkle in her eyes she offered Roy definitely told him… something. A confirmation that she meant it his way? Or rather a professionally masked 'mission accomplished, Sir'? He was not sure. Why was it usually so much easier to read her?
In any case, she sensed how serious he was, adapting.
"Haven't you offered anything besides whiskey?" she chided mildly. Winding out of his arm – taking his hand to do so, fingers briefly interlacing, as if on purpose – she disappeared in the kitchen. It took Roy another baffled moment to sit back down on the sofa.
"She's a gem; make sure you keep her," Albert commented. She was calm and attentive, balancing out his tempered and spontaneous traits. His grin returned more broadly than before as he slowly tore it away from the hallway and beamed at his old friend.
"Oh, I will," he assured.
"Pretty sure any man would go after her in the blink of an eye – I hope this really is all home and dry," Albert tutted playfully, referring to the wrongly sized ring. Maybe hinting at some leftover doubt.
"It is, believe me," Roy firmly said. And he meant every word.
A few minutes later, Riza returned with a tray. She poured the two men tea and water, a plate with biscuits clanking softly as she placed it on the coffee table between them. They were the biscuits Roy had once been gifted, she knew, neither of them liking them enough as not to praise Hayate with one on occasion. She always exceeded his expectations, Roy complacently assessed. It was the perfect opportunity to get rid of the unwanted snack.
"Ah, thank you," Albert took the bait immediately. Roy realised how much she complemented him – he might have been a good host, sharing his best liquor, but the mind of his dear Lieutenant thought ahead of the own taste and needs. How could he have forgotten about something to eat?
She was turning his head upside down, that was how. Ever since she had moved in- no, ever since she had so much as mentioned the burst pipe of her neighbour, Roy's brain was as if constantly tipsy. Throughout the entire meeting that evening, he had returned to her, continuously wondering where on her route she was – fantasising how if Albert had left early, he would have run out and surprised her, accompanying her back home where they would cuddle together in bed. Maybe take a hot bath beforehand.
Not that it was an option for them to walk the dog together, seeing as it was in public and they would have to take different ways back home, but a man could dream.
"I must say, it's a surprise to see this stallion settle," Albert raked Roy out of his daydreaming. It was so abrupt, Riza's warm body so vivid in his head that he now prayed not to have winced at being disturbed. He realised how easy it had been to imagine all of it when noticing that same body to be hovering over his tea, slender fingers dropping a sugar cube with a faint plop. "And so serious," Albert continued.
"Oh, he's serious alright," Riza turned to hand Roy his tea. Taking it, he scooted aside, making room for her to sit next to him. She hesitated for a second, then followed the gesture. His arm came around her as if automatically; as if to prove her words. "A little too serious at times," she arched a brow at him from the side, smiling most enchantingly. A hand landed on his knee, and he stiffened shortly. Was that a hint? Had he done something wrong? Something she did not like?
"Where lies your field of work?" Albert vaguely phrased as not to be rude. She might not have been working at all. She made use of his ambiguity.
"Administration," she said. He had not asked where she worked after all. "Bureaucracy mostly. Sorting files, taking calls," she gave a nonchalant shrug.
"A secretary," he deducted.
"Something of that sort," she affirmed. She felt a squeeze on her back, Roy's hand wordlessly voicing his gratefulness – or amusement (perhaps both, he pondered). She did not look at him for unsuspiciousness reasons. "Well, I'll leave you gentlemen to it," she got up from the sofa. "It was nice meeting you," she shortly bowed her head, having it returned.
"The pleasure's all mine," he replied, and Roy could swear to have heard him mutter a 'you bet'. This time, Roy did wince, if hardly noticeably, when Riza bent down to peck his cheek, stunning him. She left the room, and her steps had not entirely faded when Albert croaked out a wholehearted laughter.
"Look at you, blushing like a schoolgirl," he teased, wiping a tear from his eye. "And I thought your virgin years were far behind you," he laughed again. Hayate peered in at the noise, but not even the biscuits' presence got him to stay when the door down the hall closed. It creaked back open for a moment to let him in. Roy waited until it was definitely shut again. Still, he lowered his voice.
"If you're at the stage where you worship someone even while they clip their toenails, you've reached the point of no return," he confessed with what he hoped was a shrug as casual as his Lieutenant's had been. Albert grunted with more laughter.
They stayed on the topic while they were at it, and Roy could not help his thoughts wandering again midway through a tale of some exotic bar with exotic women. Only Riza Hawkeye could get him to the point where he did not listen to such stories anymore. On top of that, his thoughts did not contain her in a similar environment, but strayed no further than the most innocent, fluffiest of snuggles within the haven of his bed.
He fought hard to stay focused. Sharing something of his own that did not have Riza as subject eventually led them to Madame Christmas. Encoded phrases were traded, and they returned to the documents Albert had brought. The misfortune that was going to befall Amestris in years to come never crossed his mind again.
A good hour later, the biscuits were gone (thank goodness) and Roy closed the front door behind his friend. It did not feel like a goodbye for good, but then again, it was one of the qualities the old man brought with him – a sense of mystery and adventure. One could never know whether it was the last time they met or simply passed each other by.
With a sigh to himself, Roy ignored the empty cups and glasses to be cleaned. Not going but dancing straight to the bedroom door, he harked. Paws landed on the ground. Hayate waited in front of the door as he must have heard steps approach. A creak announced Roy further. He found Riza sitting up against the headboard, reading a report.
He blanked out completely how they still had to finish some paperwork until tomorrow.
Instead, Roy broke into an enamoured grin. Riza lifted her gaze of the sheets, smiling back mellowly. His foot closed the door out of habit – they were alone in the flat, the only one besides them Hayate who stood right inside the room anyway. But the habitual flashing of eyes towards the window came despite the drawn curtains as Roy crept towards the bed. Crawling up and until he was above her, he towered her face with his own. Riza lowered the paperwork to her lap, knees sinking.
"I'm assuming your guest is gone," she tilted her chin up ever so slightly.
"He is," Roy smiled. How he wanted to kiss her. To show her just how much he appreciated her act back in the living room; acting along while at the same time raising the bar to new height he had never even dreamed of reaching. Not that they reached it – or ever would – getting married that was, but hearing her say those words, out loud, to a third party…To him would have already been exciting enough to shoot his heart right through his throat.
How he wanted to kiss her. To thank her, yes. To express his undying adoration, also yes, but he also just really wanted to kiss her. Still, she was so calm and had been focused on work a moment ago, he contented himself with touching his nose to hers. She responded by prodding her own against his in a loving manner, sending his heart soaring and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. She was like the socket to a child's finger, always tempting him to touch and get sapped with an electric shock.
Sinking down next to her, on his side, Roy propped his head up on his hand. He watched as her eyes scanned the page for where she had left off, his smile never leaving. It did not take her more than a minute to lower the stack, giving him a look.
"What?" Amusement rang in her tone.
"Nothing," he rolled onto his back. A satisfied puff of breath escaped him. And he was satisfied. The image of her reading on his bed was burned into is inner eye, her scent in the sheets, her warmth faintly reaching him. She frowned at his goofy smile, but her own stayed in place just as much.
She continued reading, diligent as she was. It was not long until she could feel his eyes again where he simply could not stop smiling at her. His fiancée, he had to grin. He was gladder than ever to have gone to that appointment in town the day before.
When the raised brow returned to mutely repeat her question, Roy closed his eyes. The last thing he wanted was for her to leave such a peaceful moment. A page swished not much later as she turned it. He loved the sound, just like hearing her breathe and feeling her body close to him.
There was a light thud as the clipboard met the nightstand. The blanket rustled, and when the light of the ceiling was blocked where it had shone through his lids, the weight of the mattress shifting at his waist, he reopened his eyes. Riza's were not a hand's width away. Her hair fell like a silken veil around their faces, draping them into shadows. She bore a smile, having watched his and how it now broadened considerably.
Her palms landed on his chest, gingerly as not to weigh down too much, and it made Roy so happy he feared he could have a stroke any second. His own hands came up, enclosing her waist.
"You look awfully happy," Riza commented playfully.
"I am," he smirked up at her. One of his hands reached out, the temptation too big as not to brush golden tresses behind her ear. "You can thank yourself for that," he roamed to her jaw, thumb caressing her cheek.
"How about dinner?" Riza breathed. The way she sounded captivated by his ministration made chills run down his spine.
"Anything," Roy said, stupidly as he realised. It lured out a giggle – something that made all regret disappear at how idiotic his smile must have been.
"You would eat anything?" she arched a brow, sitting up next to him. Reluctant to leave their position yet keen on staying close, he mirrored her.
"As long as you make it," he offered a fetching grin. She returned it most teasingly.
"Dog food it is then," she shrugged, sliding off the bed. He blinked after her for a moment, then laughed at how she quickened her pace ever so slightly the moment his feet touched the ground. So he gave a chase. Having seen it coming, Riza ran.
They had not yet made it to the kitchen when Hayate was already on their heels. Excited and confused as to why his mommy fled, he stayed at her side. When Roy entered the kitchen after her, Riza spun around. The wall was in her back. Out of reflex, he could see her fingers twitching towards her waist. Of course, she was currently unarmed, so she grabbed a nearby pan with both hands. It only made him laugh more.
"Are you planning to smack me with that thing?" he could not help but laugh again. Riza clamped her lips shut, challenge and apprehension in her eyes. "Or are you trying to tell me to go fry an egg?" Roy grinned. Her shoulders fell as she gave him a look. They tensed again when he crept forward. "You know this will only get you out of the frying pan and into the fire," he smirked. He could not help it.
Back when he had been her father's apprentice, he remembered her upbeat attitude to have hidden away the loneliness within. She had been friendly, yet always reserved, never spoken up unless asked to. Roy – in his pubertal awkwardness – had had a slip of the tongue one day, having delivered a most fitting but most horrible pun. And she had snorted with laughter.
Both embarrassed and reddening, they had never brought it up again. He had seen her smile though, looking at what he had so clumsily ridiculed, and how she had kept smiling whenever even entering that room for as long as her father had been alive. He had hardly joked after the war, so he knew that if he made a pun, she would be reminded of that very moment and her very unladylike snort.
Her face showed it even now, the pursed lips stubbornly refusing to push out into a pout. Hayate looked back and forth between them, unable to decide whether to protect his owner or join the playful side.
"You're not going to hit me, I know you're not," Roy said. His steps were still cautious, hands raised slightly for an emergency defence.
"Then don't stand there like a praying mantis, ready to snatch its prey, and help me peel the potatoes," Riza countered. The pan lowered slowly, so he relaxed his stance as well. Lulling her into a false sense of security. The way her eyes sparked at him told him how she was nowhere near buying it.
"Oh, come on," his arms slackened. She was impossible to trick; always had been.
"Not a chance," she replaced the pan on the stove. The perfect opportunity to edge closer.
"But I'm only a small fry," he grinned over her shoulder, hands winding around her midriff to keep her trapped. This time, she pouted. Annoyance at the subject having been brought up again, though he liked to interpret it as held back laughter. "Marry me," Roy said above her ear. Riza's abdomen contracted for a second beneath his arms.
She relaxed not a second later. Almost as if nothing had happened. Glancing at him over her shoulder – he could feel her do it, having closed his eyes – her smile mellowed.
"I'm already married to my work, Sir," her voice was just as soft as her features. His chest expanded into her back for a discouraged sigh, freezing halfway. "And my superior really is a piece of work, I can assure you." His eyes sprung open. It was her turn to try and blank him out, the blush that had tinted his cheeks now radiating from her own. He felt it warm his chin where he remained propped up on her shoulder. That counted as a 'yes'; it had to.
She must have felt the smile widen by the shifting of his jaw, because she never dropped something unless feeling this watched. The knife clattered on the countertop. Roy reached out, taking it the moment she did, his hand enclosing hers. He decided he liked it that way.
"I can also book us a restaurant," he murmured against flushed skin. "Or order something – dinner for two," he lowered his voice.
"You just don't want to peel potatoes," Riza caught him. Her tone was everything but truly cross.
"You don't want me to do so either, do you?"
"You never leave any more than olives," she tsked. He had to smile. He was a terrible help when it came to peeling as much as when it came to tasting. Not critical enough, she would call it, but Roy was merely pleased with eating Riza-made food. "At least braise some onion then," she gave a light prod with her elbow. Naturally, it was not enough to prompt him to let go.
"That would include cutting the onions, wouldn't it?"
"Bad Colonel," Riza swatted at him with the kitchen towel, "lazy Colonel," she could not keep the vibrating of her stomach hidden any longer. He purred in response. Tugging on her once, he pressed a long, noisily smacking kiss on her cheek. "Hey," she slapped his arm with the towel again.
"How about I take care of dessert instead?" he proposed, releasing her. He undermined his statement by showing what he had prepared the very day she had lamented about her neighbour's water leak.
"You have dessert?" Riza glanced at him from the side. Her eyes widened when he opened the cupboard with the sieve, funnel and other utensils. Not something she looked into often, so she was now almost stupefied at the amount of flour, brown and white sugar, cocoa powder, vanilla pods and cooking chocolate that greeted her. "…okay," was all she brought out after a moment of silence. Roy's grin spread anew, tongue darting out to his lips. Surprising Riza Hawkeye was on a par with making her laugh and he had succeeded at both. On the same day.
Overjoyed, Roy all but floated around the kitchen while she prepared dinner. As if magnetically drawn to her, he tried his best not to get in her way, glued to her either way. Hayate jumped up and down several times, the overwhelmed merriment transferring to him. If he were a dog himself, Roy thought, his tail would have been sore from wagging all evening.
When eventually returning to finishing up the last bit of paperwork after dinner, the warmth inside of Roy had yet to perish. Back on the couch where they had spent half their day, trying to make sense of the mess she had received from the office, he could not help but think of the way they had pretended to be married. His arm – remembering as well – went to snake around her shoulders.
"How many times can one man forget to put a date…" Riza mumbled to herself. "If Havoc got paid for writing numbers at the tops of pages, he'd live on the street," she tutted.
"Or here," Roy grimaced. He beamed a smile when his remark made her chuckle quietly.
"Do you think he would do that?" She hardly glanced up from the pages she was leafing through. "Ask to camp here until finding something?"
"Probably," Roy shrugged. "Depending on how generous Breda is feeling, I'm his only option unless he'd consider moving back into his parents' house," Roy pondered.
"He visited them last week I think," Riza said, as if out of the blue. He watched her from the side. She was focused on the document in front of her, a frown creasing her brow – owed to the missing date, no question. Still, Roy could not help the feeling that her statement had rung with the slightest hint of longing. The longing for a family she had never been able to enjoy living with…
She looked up when he tightened his arm. He could not help it. She was so innocent; so honestly clueless as to what his concern was, not even realising her true feelings.
"You forgot to sign this," she pulled him out of his thoughts. Flicking the form, she directed his attention at it.
"Oh," Roy took it – with the non-Riza-hugging hand of course. "I think I did; I remember I signed it at the office," he frowned. She leaned forward, picking another sheet off the cluttered coffee table.
"Did it look anything like this?" she asked, handing him another form. It looked identical. Dumbfounded, Roy opened his mouth to reply. She was faster. "That was rhetorical; your expression speaks for itself…" she sighed.
"But I signed this," Roy puffed, taking the document. There was no signature on the designated line.
"Which number did it have?" she tapped the top right corner. There were boxes, all filled out with numbers by a typewriter. Roy sucked in his lips. He had never even taken note of any numbers. "There are twenty-three in total – you only signed one, didn't you?" her brows raised, something between amusement and exasperation firing his way. He gulped.
"Twenty-two to go…?" he attempted a goofy grin. She only shook her head.
"At least they're all the same," she tried to console herself. "But that means we're going to have to be early at Headquarters tomorrow; I reckon six would be a good time."
"Six?" Roy leaned back, though refused to let go of her.
"We don't know when the evaluation will be, so we have to make sure to arrive early enough," she argued.
"But six is… It's already past eleven; nearly midnight," he lamented. "When will I get my precious sleep if we have to be there at six in the bloody morning?"
"In the office, right after the evaluation is over," Riza deadpanned, "like every month…" she added more quietly to herself. Roy grumbled in reply. He thought to have seen a spark in her eye, but when he dared glance at her again, she was already back to focusing on work. "We can go to bed for precious sleep once we find this stupid date," she said, lips tight.
"I can think of other precious things to do in bed," Roy wiggled his brows. He tugged on her a little, if only because he really enjoyed the feeling – the feeling of her warmth, and of her back expanding against his arm with every inhale. The subtle things any usual couple took for granted and he was denied for days, weeks and sometimes even months on end.
"What happened to sleep?" she retorted without sparing a glance. Shoulders falling, he gave in. Sleep did sound like one heck of a good idea. More hugging was to ensue then.
"But we figured out the date dilemma," Roy scooted forward again, scanning the coffee table. "We only spent all day trying to solve it," he rolled his eyes. He would have to have a discussion with Havoc about it – him or Riza. She was always more believable when it came to admonitions at work. "It was Tuesday," he nodded. She blinked at him in return.
"Wednesday," she said, sounding not a fraction as sure as he did. "Wednesday the 21st…" she gazed at the cluster of sheets. Roy grimaced.
"Of course," he attempted to soothe. She had to be right, only now he had to prove it. "Wednesday; no, I think you're right," he reached out for the sheets. They had scribbled the dates down, he knew, eyes skimming from note to note. Reluctantly, he peeled his arm away to reach out and take a document. It had a date, so his arm coiled back into place as he studied his finding.
The wrong one.
Even more unwilling, he let go a second time, swiping a few sheets aside. With the next suited one in hand, he leaned back, only to be disappointed again. His fingers merely brushed her shoulder before he had to take them back. It gnawed on him, forehead wrinkling in discontent. He would be the one to talk to Havoc – that man indirectly deprived Roy of holding his not-wife and he would have to pay for that.
He halted mid-motion when a hand landed on his knee. Meeting her gaze, he found a gentle smile. A smile and a hint of amusement.
Blushing lightly – inwardly cursing at it – Roy went back to retracing their steps. She had noticed his struggle, but even worse, she had seen him be caught and very much act like it. The stifled exhale of what could have become a giggle only supported his theory. It did not help his blush retreat.
"Stop that," was all he said, finally finding the correct form. The pout in his voice did not help one bit either.
"Never," Riza's nose was not a centimetre from his when he turned, a lovingly teasing smile crowning her lips.