Yes, this is the new chapter. It was going to be a separate fic, but I got bored.

XVIII "Written on the Body"

Maes Hughes slammed his hands down on the desk of the Lieutenant Colonel with a somewhat disconcerting bang. A tall, unsteady paperclip organizer tipped and began to fall, but went straight into Riza's deft hands.

"Yes, Major?" Roy asked mildly, glancing up from a seemingly fathomless mound of papers. Riza, balancing her own (slightly less fathomless) stack on top of her long legs (crossed), tipped the organizer back onto the desk and dumped the paperclips back inside.

"It's nearly seven—what are you two still doing here?" Maes demanded incredulously.

"Reviewing the company's budget," Roy answered.

"Updating personnel files," Riza added.

"Signing off pay requests."

"Reporting to the assessment committee."

"Trying to figure out how to justify all these miscellaneous expenses."

"Trying to fudge over recent conduct lapses—"

"Okay, okay, that's about enough of that," Hughes grumbled, removing one big, clumsy palm and putting it over his eyes. "You two both amaze and appall me. Does either of you ever even manage to find enough time to sleep?"

"I don't have a baby at home crying through half the night," Roy pointed out calmly, shook his pen to restore ink flow and went back to scribbling furiously over a scratch pad. He always did the math, being the alchemist—Riza hated math. "That's your own fault."

He still didn't sleep all that much, Riza knew. She did; she knew she had to discipline herself, that she would not be a competent bodyguard at all if she was always bleary-eyed.

"You'd also have an excuse to go home earlier," Maes muttered. Then he laughed. "I just came back by because I forgot to bring home one of my books and saw the light was still on in here…after all the rumors that have been going around lately I half expected to barge in on something more than business—"

"You can stop anytime and I'd be fine with that," Roy said dismissively, not even fazed. Riza quickly directed her attention back to the manila folders in her lap, hoping to God that she wasn't blushing.

Not that it was particularly warranted. Roy was just a whole lot better at dealing with the teasing than she was. It was so difficult being a woman in the military, even more so being a subordinate to a supposed womanizer—especially when the only reason he acted like a womanizer was to irritate her. Maes had been friends with Roy much too long to overlook that fact, and he thought it was amusing as all hell.

Office flirting, they called it. The fact that Riza allowed herself to be susceptible to it was an extra blow to her ego…but despite her moments of degradation she adored Roy as much as he did her. She understood what she was working for and thought it was a noble goal. It was why she decided to remain here on late nights, at his side, glossing over Hughes' frequent absences and schedule discrepancies.

"At least go get something to eat," Maes pleaded. "The both of you are far too skinny. Come on, I'll even make it my treat this time. I'm gonna go get my book, and when I come back I'm expecting you to be closing up shop."

As promised, he stalked out. Riza re-balanced her stack of papers, and Roy chuckled.

"What?"

Click. His pen slid into its stand, and he pushed back his chair. "Come on, Lieutenant. Free food. Not accepting would be breaking one of the two laws of casual soldiering."

"What?"

He held up two fingers, protruding from the sleeve of his familiar black coat. "Law two: never ignore an offer for aforesaid free food."

"Accepting would be ignoring law one of professional soldiering," she said stiffly, not sure herself whether or not she was joking. "Law one: do your work."

"I've never been good at obeying law one," he replied, and shrugged on the other half of his coat. "Come on, Riza, you must be starving. Neither of us had lunch. And I'm sure you don't want me to leave you here all alone…"

Riza sighed, and after a second hesitation moved her mass of papers into a separate pile, on the other side of his number scribbles. It looked as if he'd been working on all of it—she'd grown adept at imitating his neat, angular handwriting. "What's the other law one?"

"Don't piss off your comrades." He held her coat out invitingly.

"Don't think you had much of a choice in the matter, in this case, then," she retorted, as if that would make up for the fact that she was once again accepting his victory. She wasn't going to be able to keep this charade up forever, she knew. As much as she just wanted to surrender to it, she knew the ramifications that suddenly delving into pleasuresome adventures would have on their work, and that couldn't be afforded. Roy had ambitious goals, none of which incorporated much of a sex life.

Sunk a little within her musings, she didn't catch his actions in time. Roy laughed as she stiffened in his arms, buried his nose in her slicked-back hair. He did this sometimes, making physical contact in some obvious but innocent way. He needed the affirmation once and a while—he was a much more physical person than she. Not that she didn't enjoy it—it helped her remember those cold nights they used to spend together in his tiny apartment, when she'd wanted away from her roommate, to be with someone who didn't have to talk all the time. His narrow shoulders, still wider than hers, fell around her neck at just the right height.

"If only," she admonished him gently, and pulled away. She could hear Maes' footsteps coming down the hall.

Well one of you two has sense at least," Maes said, looking to Riza in thanks. She raised her eyebrows.

"Hey, she's the workaholic," Roy protested, waving his hand. "I thought you knew me better than that, buddy."

"I only grew up with you," Maes said wryly. "I was kidding. It's just fun to watch Riza blush."

"I am not!"

"You are now."

Dammit she thought, felt her face grow even redder. Why did Roy always insist on working her into a guilt trip right when there was someone around to catch her in the midst of it? It got especially bad with Maes—he was the only one who knew what had gone on between them in Ishval, who truly knew how madly attracted to each other they still were, and how much restraint it took not to have a repeat of that incident.

Yet she was glad if it had to be someone, it was Maes. He understood relationships better than most of their comrades, knew they came in many forms and with many different meanings. That didn't mean he didn't take the opportunity to tease them when it was available. His newly-arrived daughter had been an absolute nightmare from that standpoint.

Maes brought them tiny little pasta place Riza had seen before but had never had the opportunity to try. By some not-so-coincidence she ended up being snugged up on the wall side of a bench, Roy beside her. It was both frustrating and satisfying, and the mix of emotions terrified her into silence. She enjoyed listening to the two men tell stories about their childhood, over her quietness. It made her feel as if she belonged with them.

Her own memories weren't nearly as exciting—life in the military's orphanage had been routinized, and she'd never been particularly good at forming ally groups ("friends"). She'd managed a few lovers, somewhere between there and the military academy and the battlefield. None had been particularly impressive, though Roy had been curious about them sometimes, jealous to an extent. Her last had been shortly before Ishval, but he'd been something not worth pursuing after she was transferred to the field. Especially not after she'd found Roy.

Odd, how she and Joel had been such active lovers but never committed, and now she and Roy were infinitely committed and nowhere near intimate (excepting the way their thighs pressed against each other on the narrow bench). How long could this very obvious tension go on without any sort of release?

"Of course by then, his mother's telling me that it wouldn't hurt if I stopped thinking about it, and I'm thinking, 'my leg is broken, and it'll bloody well hurt no matter what happens!'"

"But that's my mother for you. If she can't see it, it doesn't exist."

Riza joined in on the laugh, wondering if the parallel had been intentional. "What happened, Maes?"

"Oh, after some hesitation my mom sent me running into town for a doctor," Roy answered. "I got clever and decided I was going to get Maes' parents, too. I think that was the first fight I ever saw them have with mine. I wasn't allowed to be out of my mother's sight for two weeks after that, as if it was my fault—"

"You were the one that drug me down into that canyon and insisted we try and climb our way back out when we got lost."

"There's a difference between causation and consequence!"

Maes shrugged, his perpetual goal of riling up his friend having been attained again anyway.

"How old were the two of you when this happened?" Riza asked, curious now, trying to imagine the two men as boys; one would have been gangly and clumsy, his glasses taped together from all his roughhousing; the other, slender and round-faced with hair that didn't ever have a chance to lie flat. What a pair they must have made.

"Oh, about twelve I think. Was your grandmother still living with you, Roy?"

"If she had there would have been no way mom could have worked you into such a panic."

"Closer to about thirteen, then. Just about then was when you really started kicking into high gear about being small."

Are you saying I'm so short that I need a ladder to reach the doorknob to your office? Riza found herself chuckling. "Ah, the truth comes out about your sympathies to the Elric brothers…"

"Hey, I got tall enough, didn't I?"

"Still shorter than me."

"Being taller than Riza is tall enough," Roy said, turning his nose up at Maes.

"By what, three inches?" she asked, joining in.

"You're plenty tall." Now he was whining, as if to ask why she was picking on him too. Maes seemed more than moderately amused, but at least he was keeping quiet about it. "Especially for a girl."

The debate went on well past when the bill was paid. The subject was still being brought up as they made their way back to the military barracks. That is, until Riza heard something out of place.

"Stop," she said quietly, holding up a hand and stepping in front of Roy.

"What is it?" he replied, in the same tone. Maes caught her eye and produced his little throwing knives.

Two figures materialized under the nearest streetlamp just as she clicked the safety catches off her two pistols. She didn't like the look of them at all—one was holding a long-barreled version of her own weapons. "Stop right there and explain what you're doing here on military property—"

"We snuck in," said one of the figures, with a high-pitched giggle. "We were looking for dogs to mess up…too bad you're out so late…"

There was no further warning. Riza saw the first man raise his gun, heard the first shot go off. By then she had already shoved Roy to the ground, and was taking aim. With a sound of wet impact her right shoulder jerked back. Instinctively, she raised her secondary weapon and squeezed the trigger three times. None of those missed.

The other man ignored his comrade and had come close around, but Maes found it easy enough to give him a good smack in the face. "I wouldn't move if I were you," he said conversationally, holding one of his knives under the man's chin. "The station doesn't like to handle bloody messes if they can avoid it."

This had been a clumsy assault—obviously they were drunk or had expected the three soldiers to be. Roy scrambled to his feet, tugging on his glove, and went to check the first assaulter for signs of life. He came back, shaking his head, and said, "Sometimes I wish you weren't so good a shot, Lieutenant…is something the matter?"

"It's okay," Riza said, pressing her hand to the bullet wound. Now that the adrenaline rush was fading, she could feel a sharp biting sensation in the tear. It wasn't bad, though—it had hit her above the collarbone and had gone clean through. If it had hit Roy things would have been more troublesome. "I'll be fine."

"Here, let me have a look." He beckoned her toward the street lamp, under the light.

"I'll be fine, Colonel. You need to call the guards and get this all straightened out."

"First things first, Riza," Maes said. "Let Roy take you to the medical center. I'll raise the guards."

"We need to be here as witnesses."

"Not if you're hurt."

"Just a flesh wound."

"Damn, why are you so stubborn?" Roy growled and made a grab. Riza tried to dodge, but he revised his target and took hold of her right arm.

The world fizzed out for a second, and came back accompanied by her sharp cry of pain.

"You're bleeding all over your uniform, Lieutenant."

"Take her to the base doctor, Roy," Maes said. "You can call in security from there. I'll catch up when I can. And if you could get word to Gracia so she doesn't worry..."

Roy nodded and started to drag her away. Riza gave up (again) and wrenched herself away, insistent that she was perfectly stable on her own two feet. The pain was getting worse, now that Roy had triggered it, but she wasn't nearly to the point of collapse. It wasn't that bad.

"It's my job to look after my subordinates, you know," he said, but gently. "You don't have to pretend you're so tough that you're invulnerable."

"It works most of the time," she replied, through clenched teeth.

Noticing the tightness in her voice, Roy stopped her. "Okay, that's it. If just to alleviate my concerns, can I see it?"

Riza sighed, but accommodated him. He took her coat and her uniform jacket carefully, seeing her wince as they scraped against her inflamed flesh. She couldn't see the wound, but she noted his reaction; he didn't seem particularly worried, but did produce a handkerchief from his pocket, hold it up to staunch the blood flowing thickly from the little round hole. That wasn't a pleasant sensation either, but she knew it made sense.

"You amaze me," he said, pressing his stout hands against both sides of her shoulder. "I'd be screaming like a baby over something like this."

"The one in my hip hurt worse."

"What does that have to do with anything? I was worried about you then too."

This would be another little scar, written on her body, the second one caused by a bullet. But there were others. Seeing his scars—the knife marks on the back of his hand, the burn on his shin from flying shrapnel…those stung worse than her own. Remembering those times she'd failed to get there in time distracted her as the doctor sewed her up, took down her statement. It kept her calm, somehow, to go over her memories and assure herself that there was nothing further she could have done.

Roy returned before the nurse was done cleaning her up, barged in without knocking. Riza hurriedly put her left arm over her chest, startled, thinking it was the doctor returning with the promised paperwork.

"Colonel, if I could ask that you wait outside," The nurse said stiffly, pointing to the half-open door.

"No, it's all right," Riza sighed. If they made him stay out he'd be pacing the halls, and that would be much more annoying than having him sit here and watch while the nurse scrubbed dried blood off her skin. "What is it?"

"Maes came by to see how you were doing. I kind of wish you'd been there to see his reaction when I conveyed Gracia's message."

"Oh?"

"It was something to the tune of you-are-in-so-much-trouble-right-now."

"Predictably." Riza allowed herself a small, mischievous smile. "Isn't it nice not to have a woman nagging you about every little aspect of your life?"

"What, you don't count?"

"Do I?"

"Who was the one again who wanted to stay late and work?"

"Who was the one again who got shot because we decided to wander around town late at night?"

"Hey, that's just causation versus consequence again," Roy said, throwing up his hands in self-defense. "It could have happened anyway."

"That about covers things," the nurse said, dropping her damp pink sponge into the nearby sink. "I'll see if I can't find something in the laundry for you, Lieutenant."

Riza thanked her, and settled down against the cold wall with a glare. Roy shrugged it off and came to sit beside her. "How are you doing? Rattled at all?"

"How many times have we been through this routine?" she countered. "Beyond being tired I'm fine."

"You still amaze me," he said, glancing over at the informative heart disease poster on the wall. "I guess if you want the truth, I'm a little shaken up myself. I don't think I ever realized before…but you'd die for me, wouldn't you?"

"I'd prefer it didn't come to that."

"Me too. But I suppose I've never understood what inspires that kind of loyalty in you. I'm such a small man. And really it's a small life, almost petty. Why do you admire it so much?"

If she had to answer she was glad for his choice of words, that he hadn't said "Why do you love me?" instead. She knew that was what he was thinking, but she wasn't ready to answer yet.

"Because you have so much more ambition than I," she said. "I don't think anyone with ambition leads a small life."

"But what do you want?"

"You know, I don't really give it much thought." She watched him, not quite knowing how to respond. She felt gauche, sitting half-naked on a cold emergency room bed, wounded and prone, staring dumbly as her boss made no attempt to be modest about his presence. "Something too small to name, I suppose."

"You look a little cold," he said, after another lapse into silence, another long stare around the room, at her. He unfolded his coat from his forearm and draped it over her.

"I was wondering when you'd get around to doing that."

"All you have to do is ask!"

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"Since when do you let me?" he asked, seeming pleased that they were back to their usual bantering. "But there's a little bit of good in every bad thing, I suppose. It's just one of so many things you've pounded into my thick skull these last few years."

"Glad I'm good for something around this pit you call a company."

He chuckled, and his fingers reached around the edge of the bed, inviting. Riza grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Why did it always seem as if he were the victim in these sorts of situations?

His handsome face grew serious just once more for the evening, begging her to listen. Riza squeezed his hand again in encouragement. Whatever he wanted to say was obviously important. "Just…please don't forget that if you want so badly to protect me, I'm allowed to protect you too."

"I'll try."