XXV "My Mystery Companion"
Though Riza had done her dutiful best to acquire more comfortable seats, the tickets for the nearest train to Central had been scarce. They couldn't buy out the compartment by themselves, to have the privacy that as officers they usually were provided. That last call from Hughes had been deeply troubling. Everything just felt wrong, and she didn't know why. Roy was worried too, though he was trying hard not to show it. He knew it made her twice as tense. Three hours into the ride a businessman joined them; Riza had not particularly wanted to sit next to her commander on this trip, but she felt more awkward beside the stranger and switched sides of the car.
They conversed with their company for a while, but the topics felt forced and false. Eventually they settled into the fact that it was a two day trip to central, and they were going to simply get tired of trying to talk. Roy wanted news so desperately that she could almost smell it on him, and as such he was distracted and not much of the conversationalist she usually relied on him to be.
Their compartment was not one supplied with cots, and the benches grew increasingly uncomfortable. Riza fidgeted frequently, wanting to jump up and relieve her cramps, but struggling to walk around on the swaying train was tiring and she couldn't afford to feel too exhausted right now. Eventually their companion lay down on his side, drew his coat over his head and slept. Relieved and knowing that Roy wouldn't admonish her for acting out of place if no one else was paying attention, Riza slouched and splayed her legs out across the creaking wooden floor.
Roy drifted off too, eventually. He'd been writing in his little black journal for an hour, but about midnight his arms started to droop. The book and the pen dropped into his lap, his head fell against the window, and he was gone.
She couldn't help but watch him. The only time he looked relaxed anymore was when he was asleep, slumped over his desk on late nights, too exhausted to keep working. She would walk in, drape his discarded jacket over his shoulders and finish up his reports and his paperwork. He never said thank-you—he didn't have to. It was satisfying in some strange way just to be around, to guard his dreams.
His mouth hung open just a little. Riza felt embarrassed for noticing, almost as though he would have been mad at her. It was cute, though. That innocence was one she missed.
Screw 'in uniform,' she thought, and laid her head down on his shoulder. It was just the right height to use as a pillow. She was tired too, but still wound up from their hasty departure. As a result she drifted in and out of sleep.
She'd gotten about an hours' worth when she awoke to find that her head had slipped down onto Roy's chest. At some point he'd shifted his shoulder and put his arm around her waist. It was still there, fingers locked securely in her belt loop. For comfort's sake she hugged him back, so she could hunch without getting stiff shoulders or falling down into his lap. That wouldn't be looked upon very well.
The speaker in the hallway was playing some sort of lounge music; the lyrics drifted through the thin door of the compartment and she listened idly as she sought for sleep.
What with all my expectations long abandoned
And the future I no longer saw my hand in
How I found you is beyond my understanding
My stunning mystery companion
I know that you don't want to be out here forever on this floor
Or live among the boxes where all my past lives have been stored
Maybe you're thinking of some place with a garden by the sea
Where we could slow down and you could put a little more work in on me.
What with all my expectations long abandoned
My solitary nature not withstanding
You're the one that pulled me out of that crash landing
My stunning mystery companion
Right now I can't quite remember the cause of all my tears
I hear you laughing, somehow the past just disappears
Maybe you were joking when you said you'd take me for ten years and no more
Maybe you'd have had the best of me, but you can take another ten years and be sure
What with all my expectations long abandoned
And a life that just gets more and more demanding
There's no doubt that you're the reason I'm still standing
My stunning mystery companion
She smiled to herself.
"Kind of fitting, isn't it?" Roy muttered, and she jumped. She hadn't realized he'd been awake. He looked down at her and smiled. "Sorry. It's hard to sleep this way. Never been able to do it, really."
"I'll get off," she said, not wanting to.
He squeezed her. "It's all right. I like it."
"It's a little unbefitting," she pointed out. Why was she playing the devil's advocate to herself?
"You didn't have to come with me at all," he replied. "If you're going to spend the time, let's at least take the whole nine yards."
"You are so manipulative," she sighed, but settled back down. It had been about ten months since the incident at Christmas, and they'd drifted apart again…this felt good.
He must have thought she'd fallen back asleep, because she sensed him watching her. His shoulders shifted and she felt his lips on her forehead. Almost instinctively she raised her face and kissed him. It felt like too good an opportunity to pass up.
She put her head back down on his chest and did try to catch up on her rest. The rhythms of his heart and lungs was meditative, comforting. He started to hum that song, looking out to the point on the horizon where the sun was starting to rise. He caught himself and chuckled. "Haven't heard that one in a few years. I understand it a little better now, I think."
"Oh, come off it."
"What, so if you mean a lot to me I'm not allowed to tell you? Not even when there's nobody else around?"
"I wear a little reminder every day around my neck."
"Hearing it again can't hurt."
"Mmn." She immediately felt guilty for giving him a hard time. It was good to have him admit how he needed her, to surrender the fact that they had a relationship—no matter how unorthodoxly it functioned.
"Can I ask you something personal?"
"How personal?" she countered, knowing he was going to ask her anyway.
"Have you ever just wanted to run away? You know…just abandon all this hopeless business, elope somewhere far away and buy a house and have kids?"
"That's a lot of personal questions."
"Do you? If you want the truth, I spend a lot of time thinking about it myself. How long have we been together, Riza? Really together? Almost six years—don't you ever get impatient for something more?"
O-kay, honesty time. She gritted her teeth and confessed. "Yes, I do. But I realize it's impractical. Whatever happened to that all-powerful motivation to get to the top?"
"Maes told me this would happen. I'd find a woman and give up. He even predicted that it would be you."
"You don't really mean that."
He sighed. "I've been giving it a lot of thought. Have you realized that by the time I get anywhere by my methods it's going to be real late for us? I want children; I suppose that's selfish, but…lately I've gotten to thinking that it isn't working the way we've played it. We're too nice about it. The system isn't designed for nice."
"We've always been trying to change that. We've always known it wasn't going to be easy."
"I'm just thinking now that we've lost and we don't know it yet. We've been outplayed, outmaneuvered. I keep losing my chess games, falling asleep trying to finish those stupid reports that no one ever reads anyway. I don't think I was designed for the military. I'm a scientist…an alchemist…I have no business dealing with other people's lives. I just want my own."
"I'll tell you what," she said. "If you show me definite proof that you're convinced it's what you want, I'll give it some more thought."
He said nothing more for some time, and the countryside faded into an anonymous town. The train slowed, stopped, and the conductor came by to retrieve their sleeping companion. Riza gave up on sleep and went to go get some breakfast, leaving Roy to his thoughts again.
She returned with two plates, and after a moment's hesitation sat back down beside him.
"Figured you'd be back to your old solemn self," he muttered, taking the food with sufficient gratitude. "You don't want a seat to yourself?"
"It's all right. How much time do we usually get to ourselves like this?"
"Close to none."
"Exactly. Eat." She pushed her fork into his face, loaded with a slice of pear.
"It's things like this that made me think about what a wonderful mother you'd be," he said dryly, and took a bite.
"And you'd be a terribly irresponsible father," she countered. It wasn't true, though. He was much too affectionate to be so inattentive. Realistically, she could see him being a husband, being the father of her children. She pushed visions of the future away, though, in light of Roy's sloppily attempted return gesture. "Feed yourself."
Someday, she promised herself. When we have time.