IV "Subtle Reminders"

If Roy wasn't the victor of the evening, he was something very close to it. This was only one of several times he'd argued with the public relations office about Hughes' pension, but he'd never had to do it in front of the man's daughter before. It was a much different feeling, he later confided to Riza, having to look into that little girl's eyes and explain why the military didn't think her father had died a hero.

Gracia scrapped her plans for a light dessert and with Riza's reluctant help whipped up a towering masterpiece of white cake, candied fruit and at least an inch of frosting. (Alicia wrote "Yay Unkle Roy!" into the side when her mother wasn't looking.) Dinner waited, of course, but was well-received just the same.

"I have to say, I think this time you've really outdone yourself Gracia," he chuckled, waving away an offering for more.

"Let me send some home with you," she insisted, somehow still managing to move around and dig through her cabinets for unimportant dishware. "You can't have much very good to eat with no woman taking care of you."

"Takeout suits me fine."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that. You seemed awfully eager to get here," Riza said, prodding his bulging stomach. He grunted and waved her away, too. He was, Riza thought, probably glad this was all the physical attention he was getting at the moment—Alicia had fallen asleep before anyone had felt even remotely ready for dessert.

"You always used to think that it did, too," he reminded her.

"If it hadn't been for me, you would have starved at your desk years ago," she said, and out of the corner of her eye saw Gracia shaking her head in amusement. Self-consciously she glared back at Roy for even bringing it up.

She knew it wouldn't stop him, though, and she'd continue to let herself be baited. Accusations in their conversations were turning more and more personal, now that no one was around to tease them about how it sounded. Gracia herself seemed pleased with the development. Riza didn't know what her late husband had speculated to her, but she had always suspected that Maes' "get married already!" critiques were more pointed than they had at first appeared.

"You've certainly been quiet," Roy said softly on the walk back. A package of leftovers was tucked under one arm, but the other one was unoccupied and as such reached up to squeeze her shoulder. "You're thinking too much again."

His warmth soaked through into her skin, dissolving just a bit of the tension she hadn't realized she'd been feeling. She gave him a sheepish smile, not knowing quite what to say.

He brushed loose locks of her hair away from her neck and slipped his arm around her shoulders. Chidingly, he said, "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to deny. It's okay."

Maybe it was bothering her that there'd never been a spoken agreement about the whole affair. They had been seeing each other for more than a month, but she'd never had the nerve to call it "dating." She'd always had this fairly innocent notion about what a boyfriend was, and it was complicated now. It made her nervous.

Not that she wasn't enjoying herself. Roy…she couldn't imagine not feeling attracted to him. Something about his personality was freer now that he wasn't watching everyone, looking for spies and traitors and luckless middlemen. He had a good laugh, and she heard it now differently than before—more often, especially.

You don't sign contracts to be someone's girlfriend, because that's stupid and unromantic. The thought appeared as though it had always been there, hiding in a dresser drawer that she'd never stored much of anything in. She wasn't a romantic person; she knew it…but now she wanted to be and didn't quite know how.

She let him kiss her as they stood outside her door. It was easier to let him take the initiative; he was better at it. She was meant to follow, and that was all right. Wonderful, in fact.

"One last thing," she said, pausing in her doorway, Code Black Hyatt struggling to escape between her legs.

"Hrm?"

"That thing about the miniskirts…you weren't serious, right?"

"Well…It certainly would have made things livelier in my office. They look good on you."

"You've never seen me in one!"

"I've seen you in other things, sweetheart, that were much skimpier."

"Oh, don't remind me," she groaned, and shut the door on him.

But really, it was kind of a compliment.