AN: vague movie spoilers.
"Lieutenant. You'll...teach me, won't you?"
Riza Hawkeye gave Winry Rockbell the closest thing to a wary look she could.
"Miss Rockbell--"
"Just Winry, Riza-san." Winry smiled brightly. "I'm not quite twenty-one. You make me feel old. And besides, I've known you since I was fifteen, after all."
Hawkeye smiled despite herself. "All right, Winry. But why do you need to do this?"
Winry frowned a little. "Because I'm not sure of myself?"
"Is that a question, or a statement?"
The younger blonde smiled. "Maybe a bit of both. I'm not sure of myself, and I want...well, the boys...they always wanted me to be safe, even if they're no longer here...so. I'd best know this. You understand, don't you?"
Hawkeye frowned a little. "Yes...but I...am I the right person to do this?"
"Of course!" Winry laid her hand on the Lieutenant's arm and smiled, trustful. "I wouldn't trust myself with anyone else."
Riza sighed. "All right, Winry. We'll do it together, shall we? So there's no confusion."
Winry's smile could have lit up the room. "Really, Riza?"
"Really." Hawkeye nodded. "I will help you get a gun licence."
It had been two weeks since Winry began gun training with Riza, and the Lieutenant was surprised at how quickly she learned. She was a good shot, too -- her prowess with targets on the firing range were as good as any trained soldier. Hawkeye had to admit, she was very impressed with her student.
A series of quick blasts sounded through the hall, and Winry's posture relaxed. She lowered her gun and surveyed her handiwork at the far off target. Nearly all the bullets had penetrated the center of it. She grinned, blue eyes sparkling, and turned around with a swish of her blonde hair. Raising the rim of the shotgun to her mouth, she blew away imaginary smoke and winked at her teacher.
Suddenly Hawkeye found it very difficult not to burst into laughter.
"You're progressing very well," she said, smiling.
"Very well?" Winry laughed, in mock-arrogance, one hand resting on a slim hip, the other holding her shotgun in an easy grip. "I'm a crack shot, a sharpshooter, a hawk-eyed babe..." she trailed off, giggling and blushing, tucking an errant gold strand behind her pierced ear. "Well, I suppose you're the hawk-eyed babe."
Second Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye suddenly felt the most curious sensation...something fluttering to life in her solar plexus. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.
"I'd say you can apply for the necessary tests, now," she said, her voice belying her underlying minor tumult that she couldn't name.
"Really!" Cornflower blue eyes shone like a little girl's might at Yuletide, and again Hawkeye fought laughter.
"Yes, really. Although..." The Lieutenant smiled at Winry, her eyes holding a challenge
"Although what?" Winry tilted her head.
"There is one more test I'd like you to pass...it's not official nor part of the training, to be honest, but it's a military ritual of sorts for gunslingers such as I am...and you will be."
"I want to take it!" the younger woman said, determined, clenching her free hand. "I'll bet you anything I can pass. I want to take it!"
Hawkeye smiled to herself.
"Very well."
"You've GOT to be KIDDING me!" Winry shrieked.
Hawkeye shook her head. "No. That's what we shoot, and that's where it's positioned."
Winry squinted down the firing range at her target. "My lord, Riza. I can barely see it."
The lieutenant smiled. "That's the point."
"What kind of thing is it, anyway?" Winry took the bottle of pills from Hawkeye and snorted. "Wada Cals, eh? Ed used to have to take these, because of his absolute hatred of anything vaguely milky."
Hawkeye chuckled, pocketing the bottle. "Well, think of this as doing Edward a favour, when you shoot it."
"Hmph." Winry pouted, slipping the earmuffs down over her ears and sliding the protective goggles onto her nose. Hawkeye's stomach did the strange, not-totally-unpleasant flip again. "You people in the military are crazy, you know? Shooting pills from fifty paces..."
"Are you going to take this seriously, Winry Rockbell?" Hawkeye's Chianti eyes glittered. "Because if you're not--"
"Lieutenant!" Winry looked scandalized. "This may be the silliest thing I've done, but I am going to do it. Just you watch!"
The younger blonde stepped into position, squaring her shoulders and holding her gun out. Hawkeye smiled to herself and stepped back.
"Oh, and Winry?"
"Hm?" She didn't look up from where she was concentrating on the white pill.
"You get one shot."
Winry gaped at the Lieutenant, who stared back at her evenly. After a tense moment, Winry nodded.
"Gotcha, babe," she whispered, and before Hawkeye's stomach could finish doing the butterfly-thing once more, she'd pulled the trigger.
A flash of rimfire, the smell of cordite, and Winry Rockbell standing like a statue, jaw set, eyes determined, beautiful and confident.
"Did I hit it?"
Hawkeye regained control of her emotions and jogged to the end of the range.
"My lord!" she whispered, a grin threatening to break her face.
Winry's shot hadn't just knocked the pill over, or blown it off the small bench Hawkeye had placed it on -- she'd hit it squarely in its middle and blown it into pieces, which were now scattered on the ground.
"Did I hit it, Riza?" Winry called, slipping the earmuffs down around her neck.
"Come and have a look yourself," Hawkeye called back.
When Winry caught sight of her handiwork, she squealed in delight.
"Oh my god! Is that good! Did I do good!"
"Good? Winry..." A strange joy bubbled up inside Hawkeye, and she laughed. "Winry Rockbell, that is amazing."
Winry squealed, clapped her hands together, and threw her arms around Hawkeye's neck. "It's because I had such a great teacher!"
Hawkeye laughed again, and hugged the younger woman back. "I'm very honored that you think so."
"Think so?" Winry pulled back, smiling up at the Lieutenant. "I know so." And with that, she placed a light kiss on Hawkeye's lips.
It was the kiss of a friend, a trusted friend, a kiss of admiration and thanks, light and lovely and sweet. But Hawkeye's stomach was suddenly full of butterflies again, and her heart sang.
How strange, she thought idly as Winry pulled back, affection and pride shining in her wide, lovely eyes.
"Winry," Hawkeye said, then found herself utterly lost for words.
Winry just laughed, and hugged Hawkeye again.
"After all, who could shoot better than my hawk-eyed babe?"
"You can, now," Hawkeye answered. Her hand moved to cup the younger woman's face gently. How very strange...
"Straight for the heart?" Winry whispered. Her eyes were like glistening gemstones. "I think not."
"I think so," Hawkeye whispered back.
This time, the kiss was entirely different, and lasted a lot longer.