RoyAi for all those who had been waiting so patiently through the slashy ones. -fireun
If anyone had told him a handful of years ago that he would be in formal wear, dancing with Riza (who was wearing a rather stunning full length dress of some fantastically stretchy material) he would have suggested they apply for some leave, as they were obviously not in their right mind.
But here he was, his dress jacket folded elegantly over a chair a few feet away, his left arm securely around Riza's slender waist, her cheek resting against his chest. It was so unfamiliar, and so comfortable at the same time…A Riza Hawkeye who was willing to lean on someone else. It was distinctly alien, but altogether enjoyable.
And the dancing. Riza was a study in quiet grace, just as calmly competent on the dance floor as she was on the battlefield or shooting range. She raised her head from his chest for a moment, shifting to plant a kiss or three along his jaw-line before settling back, swaying gently as she danced.
Roy decided, at that moment, that he was the luckiest man alive. And that maybe Hughes had been right…about the whole woman thing…