Not much to say here, just please heed the change in ratings, and be warned that this drabble contains lime, violence and death. I don't want to offend anyone here! This was written for Theme 6; Rumour.

Love and War. When one of these two polar opposite occurrences suddenly sprang into your life it was hard to think about anything else, let alone have time for both to happen at the same time. They seemed to take over your life, affect every one of your senses and draw you in until you find yourself immersed.

Roy Mustang And Riza Hawkeye had been told this so many times; first by their commanding officers when they'd entered the military academy, secondly by Hughes in Ishbal, and finally by each other, as they huddled into each other's naked forms in the darkness, listening to the faint sounds of gunfire in the distance and waiting for the dawn that never seemed to come. Perhaps it's convenient for them, she thinks, that the desert is hot in the hours of sunlight and bitterly cold at night, because in the darkness there were no prying eyes that looked for signs of illegality, and they could lie together, sheltered from the chill by each other's warmth while in the day there was no chance for love.

There should have been no chance for love in the first place. They say that there was no time for love in war but she feels there's no time for war when in love.

Roy's fingertips shift against her hip, but she already knew he was awake; he felt awkward and almost irritable, although these feelings seemed directed more at himself than anyone else. She doesn't need to question what is wrong; he seems to have this debate with himself every time they find their way into each other's arms.

"Do you think what where doing is right?"

"Which part of it?" she replies, and gets a questioning look in response. "The fact that we kill innocent people by day, or that we fraternize by night?"

A small smile comes to his face and he draws her closer, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "A little bit of both I'd say, Lieutenant."

She nodded; there was no point in arguing the fact. Sometimes, she was sure that he hated the fact that she rarely argued against what he said, especially concerning their relationship. However, she saw no point, and she was also sure that he realized that there was really no point as most of what he said was true, and she fell in love with him realizing this.

Finally, she can see the sunlight breach the horizon, and he sighs the wistful sigh of a lover, bringing a brief grin to her face. Soon to higher-ups would start calling that it was time for war. She slides away from her Colonel and gathers the clothes, redressing in the hopes of getting back to her own bunk before anyone discovered their affair. Somehow, she doubted that many who saw her would care; they were too dedicated to their own survival.

One last embrace; lips swift and fleeting against bare skin.

"See you on the battlefield, right?" he whispers, and she feels his soft, humorous against her lips more than she ever hears it.

She rarely argues against their relationship, but somehow she's content with that. After all, all is far in love and war, right?

From the quiet of the afterglow to the violence of the battlefield, Roy Mustang watches his loyal Lieutenant Hawkeye gulping down another of the pills from Xing that stayed trembling hands when sniping. They were mass-produced in the state dedicated to medicinal alchemy, although he highly doubted that taking so many was good for her health. Then again, perhaps he should have been more concerned with the more apparent threats to her life.

"Sector twenty-seven has been approved for elimination, sir."

"Any high ground that you could use as a vantage point?"

"I'm hoping so, Colonel."

The rest of the allied soldiers behind them, they walk in a silence more tense that companionable. The people they're up against are no more than a band of rebels, although it was proven that they'd had some professional training and were perfectly capable of killing. As they approach the desolate outpost, housing only a few weather-roughened buildings even their breathing seems to fall quiet. There were no apparent signs of life, but years in the army have taught them that looks can be deceiving.

"Scout the area," Roy orders; so quietly that she can barely hear him above the wind.

Riza nods, finding her throat dry and her lips seemingly fastened together. The sand scrunches softly under her feet as she moves to kicks open the door of the first seemingly empty structure, knowing that if the drugs hadn't taken effect her hand would be trembling.

She hesitates for the slightest of moments, waiting for the rest of the soldiers, including Mustang ready their weapons and scout the surrounding area cautiously; Roy simply raises his gloved hand and nods his approval, and Riza notices that compared to her stilled limbs, his hands are shaking with the very slightest of nerves.

Gritting her teeth, she knocks the door open with surprising force and swings her pistol out in front of her, and she feels Roy tense behind her and she's sure that he's frozen with the anticipation of battle.

Riza's sharp eyes dart around the revealed room, her heartbeat echoing in her chest and her breathing sharp across her dry lips. She is met with emptiness; relieving, calming emptiness.

Behind her, she both hears and feels Roy's sigh of relief. Apparently, his relief came a little too soon because an instant later she hears the sharp sound of a sniper's shot and one of the soldiers standing just inches from the Colonel falls to his knees, a scream caught in his throat as he nurses the fresh, bloodied wound in his stomach.

Swearing softly, Roy flinches around and sees the glint of the sniper's scope in the distance, coming from the glassless window of another one of the crumbling buildings. The next thing he's aware of is Riza grabbing his hand and yanking his back against the wall, as yet another shot sounds and drives itself into the back wall of the building.

"Sir, we're caged in," she whispers, and he realizes with some shock that she's right. The door was the only escape route, and as they were unsure of how rapidly the sniper could fire, and how much ammunition he or she had left... and judging by the screams coming from outside the building from the other soldiers, it wasn't very smart trying to escape at this point, either. From the floor, the injured soldier groans and coughs weakly, blood spilling over chapped lips.

"Leave him, sir," she whispers so quietly in his ear that he has to lean closer to her to hear her. "We have to be logical. He's not going to live."

He tries to steady his breathing as he thinks how she can almost read his mind; how she is so logical that it may seem harsh but knows that even if he did tried to drag the kid out of the way, he'd be dead before they got help.

"As long as we stay still, he won't hit us. He can't see us from here and where he can move while still covered would be limited..." The overwhelming sound of gunfire drowns out his words for a moment and she strains to her him over the deafening noise, "... as soon as the noise dies down we'll try to bait the sniper into misfiring and escape, alright?"

"Yes, sir."

A brief strained grin graces his lips and disappears just as quickly. "I hope he's not as good a shot as you, Riza."

"Si- Roy... if I get injured, I want you to leave me," Riza states evenly.

He frowns. "No."

"Far be it from me to order you around sir, but my purpose for being here is to make sure you stay alive."

"Don't say that, Lieutenant."

"Why, sir?"

His gazes at her so intensely it makes her stomach turn, "Because we're going to survive this, just like we survived Ishbal."

The sound battle outside has suddenly been replaced with the eeriest of silences.

Her reply comes in the form of a short nod and questioning look as he yanks the Pyrotex glove off his left hand and scrunches it into a tight ball in his shaking right hand. "I'm going to try and make him fire on the glove. If he does fire, I'm going to make a run for it and try to kill him. I'm not sure how many casualties have been suffered on both sides..."

In her heart, she knows that there's not much chance of a good sniper making a misfire, but she nods in agreement. There is nothing for them now but this one, risky chance.

Time seems to be moving in slow motion as Roy throws the glove towards the door in a high arc, and the seconds tick by painfully slow as Hawkeye's careful gaze watches the glove and her ears strain for any sign that the sniper has fired. And suddenly, it comes; the sharp whistle of the bullet piercing the air, and the cloth gets knocked backwards from the extreme force of the blow. Roy immediately launches himself into action and steps over the body of their fallen comrade and once again citing the glint of the sniper's scope in the sunlight, snaps his fingers and hears the pained scream (a woman's scream, he notes vaguely) as the sniper is engulfed by flames.

His head snaps around to look at Riza, a vicious expression of triumph on his face, and is surprised to see that the only emotion her face holds is utter shock. He is confused for the briefest of moments, but suddenly understands why she looks so afraid with perfect clarity as he hears the familiar snap of a gun being readied for fire.

To Riza it happens so fast that she barely sees it; the lone enemy soldier opening fire upon Roy, who is thrown back against the outside wall of the building they were just in by the force. Losing the strength in his legs, he slumps back against the wall, his face contorted with pain but making no sound. Her head says that like the soldier they watched die back in the building he is going to die. Her heart doesn't comprehend.

The male rebel that shot her Colonel has now turned upon her in her moment of stun and she notices that he's biting his lip so hard he's drawing blood. Riza notices the thick gold ring on the man's finger and remembers the glint of what they had thought was the sniper's scope in the sunlight and suddenly comprehends.

There was no place for both love and war to exist simultaneously...

"Stand in front of him." The man's hand is unsteady, shaking from mixed emotion of hate and sorrow. She feels the dead weight of her own pistol in its holster at her side, and somehow she knows this is the end. She raises her hands and walks slowly to stand in front of Roy, who is staring up at her with the last of his strength. She stares the rebel straight in the eye and waits for his to fire, but suddenly he is motioning quite violently for her to spin around to face her dying lover. She does so, and suddenly feels the tremors returning to her hands; whether the drugs have run out or whether she's simply afraid she doesn't know.

Even at the end of all things, he she that she sheds no tears for her own plight, and as she stares down at him, he once again hears the gun being prepared for fire and the last thing he hears before the shot is her hurried whisper of the three small words he knows now he'll never hear from her again.

And this is the time, as his weak hand can feel the warmth of her blood on his fingertips, when he decides that perhaps love and war coinciding was indeed something that they had made the very most of. This is the last of his thoughts before he passes out, Riza's vaguely warm weight painfully heavy on his legs and chest.

Colonel Roy Mustang and First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye were found dead from shots to the stomach and to the chest respectively. It is believed that Lieutenant Hawkeye died almost instantly, while Colonel Mustang may have lived for any number of minutes before succumbing to his injuries. May they find peace in a better place.

Notes: I think I just broke my own fanfiction morals... any comments?