Ahaha, Christmas-ish fluff ficlet, which I never posted here. Roy/Hawkeye, G.
What Assures Him
by Maaya
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Roy likes the way Hawkeye stands, feet apart, not too much but always enough to look firm, is steady and not even a typhoon could probably hope to budge her.
He likes the way she walks, her steps even as she looks ahead at whatever she is approaching, never back or down.
(Havoc, in one of his less well thought-out moments, calls the colonel "love sick".
He would have been severely punished, hadn't Hawkeye walked in on them the moment Roy had crumpled up a paper he was supposed to sign and had his hand lifted to throw it at his subordinate.
She stiffly compliments his grown-up behaviour.
Roy nonchalantly un-crumples the paper and signs it without turning a hair. It is a stupid attempt at recovering some dignity but it almost works. Until Breda whispers over his teacup how Christmas Eve can turn even the most respectful man into a child.
They are all at the office on Christmas Eve, somewhat sad.)
They walk home late, sometime past eight and the snow is more a grey slush than anything now.
Hawkeye wishes him a merry Christmas before striding away and in on her own street. She doesn't look back, or down, or anywhere but ahead.
Roy likes that.
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end
Now, sorry for spamming some of you guys' mailboxes with alerts of ficlets. Ficlets seem to be the only thing I manage these days.