Soon... the troubles of naming chapters begins anew... is calling it Friday II a legit thing to do...? ':D

Anyway, I loved reading the review! Hope you'll enjoy!

Thursday

Roy was still laughing in the car, and even when he unlocked the front door to his flat.

"That isn't funny," Riza chided.

"I think it is," he grinned, kicking off his boots. Hayate had already heard them, crowding the narrow entrance. Wagging his tail, his entire body was infected. He bounced around them, mostly Riza, seizing his chance when she kneeled down to take off her boots, slobbering all over her face.

"You do realise that we're going to be the ones to suffer the consequences," she noted.

"You make it sound so dramatic," Roy shrugged. Having gotten rid of his uniform's jacket, he felt a little proud when Hayate greeted him with more enthusiasm than ever. Those walks were making him rise in the ranks. "And it got us off work early. I say let's enjoy the extra time we got and leave worrying for tomorrow," he took care of her jacket as well, making sure to hang it properly.

She always took great care not to cause any unnecessary wrinkles and avoid continuous ironing.

"Easy for you to say," Riza huffed as she made her way down the hall. "You're not the one having to recall all of those reports," she reminded.

"And you're not the only one who will have to do it," Roy argued, on her heels. "But I mean, a fire in the archive? How ironic is that?" he could not help but laugh again. He should have been considered as primary suspect, but everyone knew he did not go anywhere near something as loaded with work as the archive.

"I only tidied it up yesterday…" Riza groaned, peeling out of her turtleneck. Her eyes gained sharpness then, remembering a certain conversation from the day before, but Roy was already right behind her. Gliding his hands over that silky skin, he lured out a new kind of frown.

"In any case, there's nothing to be done about it now," he murmured, dropping his chin onto her shoulder. "I was thinking," he kissed the spot when lifting off it, "why don't you take a long, hot bath to get those bothering thoughts out of your head until tomorrow," he kissed the side of her neck, inhaling her scent.

"A bath?"

"Mhm," he hummed, replacing his chin. He might have preferred holding her when cuddling, but it was impossible to deny just how comfy she was.

"At four in the afternoon?"

"Any time you like," he gently swayed from side to side.

"I think I would like to eat and then go to bed," Riza let out a tired breath. She had not said no, he noticed. And she would have, had she been completely opposed to the idea. So then he would prepare it for after an early dinner, he decided; the bath salts and warm steam would convince her.

On a different note, he realised that she was either very tired, or very receptive to distraction. She let him rock them from side to side, and even when he chanced his luck, taking her hands – one held up to the side and the other hugging alongside his around her waist – she did not protest to his simplest of dancing steps. Shirtless.

How had he survived all these years without her constantly by his side?

Riza sighed unhappily at the way she had to balance on one foot. Her ankle still throbbed lightly. She almost preferred having to grit her teeth and pretend everything was normal like she did at work; she did not like her own sensitivity, even when it was justified. Most of all, she disliked the part of her that melted under Roy's tenderness, as if seeking pity so that he would not stop seeing to her.

Berating herself, she focused back on dinner. He could eat noodles at any time of the day – even in the morning – so she knew he would be pleased once he returned. He had been gone an awfully long time. Perhaps he was starting to enjoy long walks with Hayate – he had been out for over an hour the last night.

Nothing in comparison to the other one; hours of looking for her with Hayate and later in the car. He could have gotten himself killed on his own through the darkness and without her there. Parking on the opposite side of the road… Simply going out – the Flame Alchemist – when the public was asleep. It wrecked her brain more than the stupid archive did.

Pain throbbed up from her ankle. Just when Riza ogled a chair, considering sitting down in front of the stove to relief her standing foot, the key clicked in the front door's lock. Hayate bounded down the hall, knowing his dinner would be waiting for him. She skipped any commands before he could eat since it would involve crouching down; putting weight on that cursed ankle.

It was not just Roy mellowing her, it was the entire flat. The environment he created got her to relax, consequently relaxing the strictness she imposed on herself.

"Close your eyes," Roy's lowered voice interrupted Hayate's hasty munching. Frowning, Riza turned back to the stove.

"Shouldn't I be the one to say that?" she asked, complying anyway. He all but snuck into the kitchen. He had not yet taken off his shoes, she heard, though there was no swishing of his coat. "They're closed," she reported when he hesitated.

"Good," he mumbled, more to himself. She felt him stand right behind her. His sleeves rustled, a light clack giving the impression of something… opening? The light rustling travelled to her ears, his hands seemingly lowering in front of her face, then coming to land on her nape. Something cool dropped to her sternum.

"No, Colonel, don't," Riza wanted to let out an exasperated breath.

"What do you mean 'don't'?" he pouted, trying not to let it ring in his voice. Something clinked on the countertop. He put a hand onto either of her arms, shuffling her to turn slightly. What was he thinking, giving her jewellery? They might have been playing out their fantasies of a free, unprohibited lifestyle by each other's side, but reality was just outside the doorstep.

She was still his adjutant and very, very much not allowed to be anything else to him.

"You can open them," Roy said as if she had not just protested. She pursed her lips.

"You know I don't go out, and I can't show it to anyone or they will suspect you gave it to—" she stopped short. In the wooden tabletop mirror – wherever the hell he had gotten that from – she saw herself. A thin, silver chain was trapping her hair. It dipped towards her cleavage, ending with a single white stone, two phalanxes below the hollow of her neck. It sparkled with such pureness, she could not only see every colour of the rainbow with each rocking breath, but her eyes light up alongside it.

It was stunning. Simple, yet meticulously cut to perfection. Silver, matching her earrings and what few accessories she possessed, and just the right length to highlight without drawing attention too far below. It was everything she would have sought in a neckless had she been looking for one. And been able to afford it – she was no expert, but even she could tell that the stone was not just a white sapphire.

Mindlessly, her hand came up. Lightly, as if afraid to ruin it, the tip of her finger brushed the underside of the delicately in silver embedded stone.

"Do you like it?" Roy softly asked next to her ear. She had not even noticed him approach again. However that was possible, she now thought, seeing as he was beaming brighter than a lighthouse thanks to her reaction. She could only swallow for another moment, words dried out. "You can show it to your girl friends," he suggested.

"They won't be less suspicious."

"They might think you have a secret admirer," he jested. Running his fingers along her nape, he gently freed her hair from the chain, letting it flow down her back.

"Who is obviously you," Riza finally managed to tear herself away from her reflection. Turning to him, she could not decide between annoyance and a plead, her expression displaying exactly that.

"Are you sure? Catalina is never even anywhere near our office, and she doesn't know we see each other after work," he calmly reasoned. He must have been planning this for so long, he did not estimate any of her concerns as too serious. He had put it behind himself – logically so; he had had to justify spending a good 150,000 Cens from what she could tell.

"She does," Riza cringed, averting her eyes. "She guessed that you're the one who let me stay, and I couldn't have lied convincingly," she confessed.

"Not convincingly, or she wouldn't have believed it no matter how convincing?" he raised an amused brow. He was by far too relaxed with the entire situation. She could be too, of course, denying everything and putting the necklace away. Only she could not. She wanted it, and she wanted to wear it – another thing she could not just do. "Don't you think she'd suspect a dedicated suitor? You two went out just the other day."

"Rebecca's the one always telling me to leave you and find a husband; there's no way she wouldn't know," Riza shook her head. She had yet to look him in the eyes. They would be so disappointed with her reaction, she could not bring herself to meet them.

"Which you're not going to do," he said, bordering panicked. She frowned. Pity laced itself into her gaze when she finally returned his.

"Besides the point," she tried to distract.

"It's not to me," Roy's gaze intensified. She suppressed yet another sigh. She tilted her head.

"You want me to live alone forever and die a lonely bachelor?"

"You're not alone," he insisted. She briefly closed her eyes. Taking what little step there was still possible towards him, she lowered her head. She placed her hands on his biceps, then trailed down his arms. Once at his hands, she kept from squeezing them lest he hold hers trapped. In the same motion, she placed them on her waist, her own atop.

Turning to face the mirror again, Riza guided his hands all the way around her. She crossed her arms over his, holding on to him as tightly as he held her. "I know," she breathed. "Thank you," she regarded the necklace again in their reflection, even more fond of it now that he completed the image. "It's beautiful."

"A beautiful necklace for a beautiful woman," Roy kissed her temple.

"Don't," she sadly said despite them already having overstepped the line. Trampled on it.

"I don't think I can," he returned. Another kiss landed in her hair. "You could wear it at home," he proposed, "or under your clothes if you like," he remained vague as not to compel her into answering. He really just wanted to act out that fantasy they were faking to themselves, it seemed, buying her jewellery being one of the gifts he expressed his appreciation with.

She turned again, this time closing the gap with her head dropping to his chest. Winding her arms beneath his, she hugged him back.

"Don't give me things." There was no sharpness left to her tone whatsoever. He chuckled, tightening his embrace.

"I have to pay you back somehow for all that you do for me," he muttered. "For the happiness you bring me," he said.

"Well, don't," she repeated, "you're already paying me in kind," she gave back, burying her face deeper to hide her blush. "It's mutual," she whispered. His heartbeat accelerated at once, bringing a smile to her lips since she could feel it pound against her forehead.

They had to scrape the bottom of the pot, the forgotten noodles partially burned and sticking to it.

Roy's smile had stretched from one ear to the other throughout dinner. It relaxed with the sigh he heard Riza give once the hot, pine-scented bathwater engulfed her body. The door was left ajar, but when Roy passed by, he saw Hayate having nudged it open on his way in. Reaching for the handle – the bathtub decently hidden behind the door – Roy stopped midway of pulling it closed.

"Colonel?" her voice echoed from the tiles.

"Anything you need?" he asked. "The towels are in the cabinet under the sink," he said, even though he was sure he had left her one on the chair he had brought over. Perhaps she wanted another for her hair?

"You can come in, you know," Riza said, an amused purr lacing her voice. It made goosebumps rise on his arms. He pulled down his sleeves before peeking around the door. "What are you doing?" she asked. Confusing him. His face must have looked the part, because she frowned in turn. Gods, she was pretty with her hair up in a bun and her cheeks rosy from the hot steam, he thought to himself.

"Reading?" he finally said. Nothing for work, of course, just going through his alchemy research which he had been neglecting ever since she had moved in. Gladly so, given the alternative.

"Oh, sorry," she ceased tilting her head back, sinking down a little until only the part of her tattoo on her nape remained visible. Roy gave a hum in question. "I thought you were joining me," she quietly said. His face flamed up, heart hammering love-drunkenly against his ribcage.

"Of course!" he blurted out, "I mean I can— I mean I want to – if you don't mind, that is," he gripped the handle in his hand so fiercely, it imprinted into his palm.

"I was waiting for you," Riza said, a small smile audible in her tone. A small, shy smile. He felt his lungs wanting to burst, ears heating up with more adoring blush. Could this woman be any cuter? Or sexier, his mind fought a fierce battle when her hand rose out of the water, a slender, dripping arm extending to pet Hayate's head.

Roy all but stumbled through the hall, tearing off his clothes in the bedroom. Hayate was on his heels, the commotion exciting him. Skidding into a halt in front of the bathroom, Roy darted back into the kitchen with a speed he had never used when wearing nothing but boxers. Finding them two glasses and a bottle of his best wine, he returned, this time closing the door properly.

His chest was puffed out, but his cheeks still glowed with blush. She greeted him with a gentle smile, unknowingly making his heart skip into his throat when she scooted forward instead of making room on the opposite side of the tub.

"What's all that for?" her eyes flashed from him to the wine and back.

"Just a little something to help relax," he grinned. Setting the bottle and glasses down on the improvised chair-table, he popped the cork open.

"Then… how about that little something you brought me the other day, too?" Riza innocently glanced away. He knew exactly what she meant – he had almost been hurt to see her not even trying a single piece of that chocolate she liked. Now she made his heart soar. He was back in under a minute, the chocolate, a plate and a kitchen towel in tow. The endless days and nights of dreaming about their secret times spent together were paying off – he had thought everything through.

It didn't take long for them to settle. Serving as a backrest to her, Roy greatly enjoyed the access it gave him. He wrapped an arm around her stomach, the other guarding her ribs. He could feel the approach of that questioningly raised brow, seeing as he was caging her in despite any lack of attempts to get away in the first place. She did not say anything, handing him his wine instead.

Hugging her stomach reminded him of that oddly obsessive baby discussion they had had the other night, but he decided to focus on his beverage when she held it up to his face.

"To you," Roy murmured, taking a sip. He watched the lightest of stains of her lips when they released the rim of her glass.

"A toast?" Riza turned to give him a look from the side.

"Any day is worthy of a toast to you," he dripped his head to kiss her nape. His pulse upshifted when she sighed in response. An easing, almost blissful sigh.

"This better not be another gift," she lifted the wine, then leaned back to indicate the bath. He smiled to himself.

"I would never," he lied, earning himself a pair of pursed lips. The prettiest of pursed lips, he found. Slightly moist, soft hair at the back of her head dropped to his shoulder, her cheek brushing his jaw. He embraced the opportunity as much as he embraced her. Another kiss, this time to her cheek, then her temple. "In other words, I have a free pass to give you an actual—"

"No," Riza mildly growled. It earned her another kiss, his chest vibrating with a chuckle against her back. She let out a sigh, closing her eyes. Roy could not help but press his lips to her shoulder again. She turned her head, and he prepared himself for a scolding look, but she surprised him once again. Accepting the invitingly puckered lips, he kissed her tenderly. It made a sigh of his own build up in his throat.

A comfortable silence engulfed them for minutes to pass. Roy relished the way her torso rose and fell beneath his arms, while she seemed to be in a similar state of mind with her human pillow.

"This wasn't such a bad idea," she said after a long while. "I haven't thought about work for even—" she broke off when the doorbell rang. Both frowned. Riza started to sit up, but Roy's arms refused to let go. Not that his mind disagreed. "Who could that be in the middle of the night?" she asked.

"It's not that late," he countered, though he was not too keen on glancing at a clock either. "And whoever it is can come back tomorrow at a reasonable time," he shrugged, leaning back again. It took her a moment to follow his example, finally relaxing into him.

Tensing back up when the doorbell rang again. Hayate gave a bark that she shushed right away.

"Ignore it," Roy advised.

"What if it's one of the girls?" Riza speculated. She knew about them, of course. Not as far as Madame Christmas actually being related to him, both as adoptive mother as well as biological aunt, but she was always informed at some point about the latest rumours and intelligence. She had to be – she was his other half after all.

Hayate got up, trotting over from the door to the window. Roy could not see, but Riza's eyes were narrowing as they followed her dog.

"Then they'd make themselves known in a different—" both of them winced when there was a knock on the window. Riza's arm darted out of the tub and over to where her towel was. She pulled out a gun, the safety clicking with the speed of lightning. "Hold on, don't shoot!" Roy panicked momentarily.

Reluctantly – and not without putting a hand over her gun to lower it – Roy got out of the water. Taking her towel, he wrapped it around his hips. Stupid knocking, stupid whoever disturbed their peace, he thought to himself.

Luckily, the steps up to his front door were not for nothing – the foundation of the house was enormous, and the window set too high for even Major Armstrong to peek in without having to jump. Not that he had not ever tried, Roy remembered with a grimace.

His expression hardly changed when he glanced outside. With an exasperated sigh, he shoved up the lower half of the window, not without difficulty. It was so old, creaking and stuttering as wood grated against wood. He left it merely a slot wide open.

"Hi, Colonel," Havoc uncharacteristically said.

"What do you want?" Roy tried desperately to ignore the eyes he felt to be boring into his back.

"Can I come in?"

"No."

"Please?" Havoc pleaded. With his lower lip stuck out. Drunk, Roy assessed. He crossed his arms over the windowsill, trying to be as annoyed with his Second Lieutenant as his First was with him. And he should have been – Havoc always made a mess of things, just like he had that day she had moved in.

He did not know just how much angrier she was at him, now that the living, breathing, and somewhat groggy reminder of that conversation stood not two metres away.

"Can I come—"

"No," Roy repeated.

"Can I have something to drink?"

"Go home, Havoc," Roy grumbled.

"Please, o kind Colonel?" Havoc pleaded. Suck up, Roy rolled his eyes, finally turning to fill a glass at the sink. Havoc grinned, on his way to walk around and be invited in through the front door. He was more than disappointed when being handed the water through the window. "I'm cold," he complained after downing the glass in one go.

"Go home then," Roy was about to shut the window and return to the tub, when the water splashed. He side-eyed Havoc for any sort of recognition – any connection to Hawkeye – but the latter was focusing on the way his feet were trying to keep him balanced.

The only thing Roy saw was her body disappear around the corner, then the door slammed closed. Shit.

This time with a groan, Roy left the bathroom. He had to return right away when Havoc had not gotten the notion. Explaining explicitly, he finally went to pick him up at the front door. The Second Lieutenant stumbled a bit on the stairs, greeting Hayate without any thought of Riza whatsoever. Neither did he seem to notice the way Roy was dressed in nothing but a towel.

"Eat this," Roy shoved over a bag of crackers, "drink another two glasses and take these home with you," he slapped a package of headache pills onto the kitchen table. On second thought, he took the pills back, lest Havoc's drunken self confused them with the eating step.

The hall seemed eternally longer when Roy went to face Riza. Not having seen any towel with her, he went to grab one before inhaling deeply and reaching for the handle. Slowly, he pushed it down. Hayate forced his way in, and Roy closed the door behind himself as quickly as possible despite the lingering danger inside.

Riza turned around quickly, stunning him. She looked panicked for a second, and Roy realised that she was rather facing the intruder with her naked chest than risk her tattoo being seen. He gulped. She recognised him in the half dark, gaze hardening.

"Sorry about that," Roy quietly said. Holding out the towel, he dared nearing her enough for her to grab it. He was not even sure what she was angry about, but he sure as hell felt that she was. It was nearly tangible.

Snatching the towel away, Riza patted her torso dry before putting on a shirt.

"He doesn't usually come—"

"That's not it," she cut him off. Turned away again. Fixating the lamp and only source of light on the nightstand, she huffed. "You don't even know, do you?" she asked. Sharply. Roy gulped. Was it still the fire in the archives? Had Havoc started it? He smoked a lot but he was not that—

Oh, no. She thought that he was the one who had done it, being the Flame Alchemist and all. Escaping from work. Laughing about it. And she had sorted those archives for hours…

"Havoc mentioned something to me," she finally spoke, confusing him profoundly. "Something you told him—the whole team in fact," she went on. He curled his lips inwards, not sure what to expect. She knew about his fake dates. That, and Hawkeye did not act this way when jealous. "How could you tell them about the dog bite?" she spun to glare him down. Roy winced.

Havoc had told her that?!

Her eyes were blazing at him, fury not enough to describe what he saw. Because it was not what he saw.

"You could've ruined this," Riza faded, nearly to a whisper. Tears stood in her eyes. She lowered her gaze, but the sadness in it hit him hard regardless. "All of it—not just this," she gestured at the bed they temporarily shared. "Colonel," her glance grazed his, piercing straight through his heart. It throbbed as much as it hammered—she was so much in love that she feared losing him. A feeling they shared, of course.

"I'm sorry—"

"You know what happens if we're found out." The grief would not be replaced by anger, more desperate than he had seen her in years. "You're a State Alchemist and a high-ranking officer, but I'll be court-martialled. I'll be demoted best case scenario. They can deport and suspend me and never let me be able to protect you again," her shoulders fell, back hunching helplessly.

He shivered at the idea alone. Not because she would be fired as his bodyguard, but because she very well could be locked up or purposefully put where the fraternisation laws continued to keep them apart while at the same time breaking up their team.

"Get dressed," she picked up his shirt from the bed, shoving it at him. "You're going to drive him home, right?" Her eyes flashed up to meet his briefly. The usual neutral face tried hard to push away the wistfulness that did not vanish so easily.

He stood there for another moment. Hayate's claws pattered after her down the hall.

"Hawkeye!" Havoc was calling in his stupor. "I don't think I've ever seen you at a bar before," he said, whether as a simple observation or due to thinking he was still out drinking was difficult to tell. "Can I have a hug?" he asked, making Roy's ears perk. "I need a woman's arms to mend my broken heart…" he added. There was no reply, no reaction audible, so Roy opted for hurrying.

Inwardly cursing at the shirt's rustling close to his ears, he paused after every piece of clothing. Havoc was babbling something. Then Hayate whined, Havoc joining in. Or perhaps the other way around. Sneaking down the hall as much as hasting, Roy peered into the kitchen.

Havoc was still sitting where Roy had left him, though now fallen forward. Riza was kneeling in front of his chair, allowing his forehead on her shoulder. He looked more than miserable. Clutching her shirt in her back, he sniffled.

"She didn't even show up," he lamented. "Had some mean girl give the waiter a note," he retold, "even though I bought her flowers. I always bought her flowers," he emphasised. "Why didn't she come to tell me herself? I thought we clicked… I even got her flowers…" he mumbled. At least he was not sniffling anymore. "Hey, Hawkeye?" he asked, aware enough to know who's shoulder he was sagging into.

Riza hummed in response. Roy did not even notice to be holding his breath.

"Why didn't she come?" Havoc repeated. "I even got her flowers…"

"Hm, I don't know," Riza mellowly said.

"Do you want my flowers?" he asked despite not having any on him. Roy's fingers itched to detach those arms clutching her shirt more than ever, but he remained where he was. She was still fed up with him after all.

"No," she said, just as gently. And to Roy's great relief. "But I'd come and tell you right to your face that you're being an idiot – you're smarter than drinking this much over someone who's not worth it," she mildly berated then. A dumb but wide smile stretched across his lips.

"Thanks, Hawkeye," he smiled.

"Anytime," she shook her head. He might not have registered her last comment at all, but he seemed content with the direct rejection anyway.

Daring to enter then, Roy came to stand next to her. She patted Havoc's back to animate him to let go. He patted hers in return, not understanding one bit. She sighed under her breath. Getting up herself, Riza made the Second Lieutenant rise to his somewhat unreliable feet alongside her.

"Boots," she instructed Hayate, who promptly went to fetch them. She slipped into the first one, meeting her loyal dog with the other on the way to the front door as she dragged Havoc along. Roy opened the door for them, then that of the car.

"Come on, just a little further," she encouraged when Havoc momentarily drifted off into sleep. He startled awake, only to slump against her again. "The Colonel's going to get you home."

"That's so nice of him," Havoc slurred. "His couch is a nightmare. Have you ever slept on it? I slept on it, and it's terribly terrible," he nodded matter-of-factly. "Hurts your back and everything else," he complained.

"I'm sure it does," Riza said as she heaved him onto the backseat. Roy watched her climb the stairs and close the door behind her in the mirror as he drove off. He knew it was no use, nagging at Havoc for what he had done. At least not now. He was not even sure Havoc was still awake, sprawled over the rear bench seat.

When returning home, everything was dark. Roy tiptoed into the bathroom as not to wake her. The bathtub was empty, and in the kitchen, the glass and plate Havoc had been given were already washed and drying. The bedroom was silent when Roy crept in, Hayate merely lifting his head with the familiar steps entering.

Riza had her back turned to him, perhaps asleep. He did not dare scoot over to hold her. He had messed up, he knew, but even through the pain of the bite, the memory was still one of the best moments in his life. He had longed to share it with someone, but he realised now just how much of an imbecile he had been to choose his team. He was convinced they would never betray them, but still…

He had scared her. Something that scared him in turn.

He awoke twice during the night. Riza was tossing and turning, not much later after he had arrived, stoking his guilt. Just before midnight, Roy roused for the second time. This time, it felt as if his heart was bleeding out.

She was clinging to him with both arms. Face pressed into his back, her breathing came flatly, hoarsely. He frowned pityingly. He was not even sure whether she was aware of her actions or not, but he was certain that he could not leave her that way. Turning carefully, Roy cringed when it made her stir.

Riza gave a faint moan in her fading sleep. She retracted her arms, much to his dismay. Shocked to see her wipe her eyes more than she was rubbing them, he could not wait. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her into his chest. Another sound of weak complaint escaped her, dying down when he squeezed her close.

She hugged him back almost right away. A positive surprise. Not that it erased his guilt, but at least it managed to slowly wash it away like sand off the shore, grain by grain.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. I love you so much, he added in his head. She clutched him tighter, as if answering his unspoken confession.

They drifted off into an unsteady sleep, never letting the other go.

But peace was scarce, the doorbell mercilessly waking them not two hours later.