Fourth quarter was kind of a bitch. School (specifically finals) effectively shut down all my outside-school activities. I apologies for the long delay, but summer's here. That should give me at least enough time to update this more than once every 3 months. I'm off to Cali for awhile next week, but I'll bet I can get out another 2 chapters in the next few days before I leave for vacation.
We're going to see other characters in this chapter!
I'll bet some of you are relieved to hear that, but some of you would prefer the exact opposite I suppose.
Well, seeing as this is my story, AND additional characters (no OC's will take any important roles, promise… in fact I doubt I'll have any, really) are necessary to advance my plot the way I intend. I'm not introducing an entirely new side-plot or anything. The focus of this fic is indeed Royai.
Disclaimer: If I owned FMA, then chapter 61 would already be out now, and it would be Royai-licious.
Hawkeye arrived a few minutes after Roy did the following morning, on time and looking only the slightest bit tired, at first glance. However it was clear that fatigue wasn't the only thing bothering her as she closed the door behind her. Approaching her desk with large strides that resounded loudly through the office, she sat in her chair with an audible huff and pulled a stack of documents closer to herself with a frown.
"Good morning, Lieutenant," Breda greeted, his tone of voice suggesting that he didn't think it was a good morning and he suspected that the Lieutenant agreed with him.
"Good morning, Breda," she responded without looking up from her reports, flipping through the large stack to get an idea of what she would be dealing with today. After glancing at everything, she muttered something about caffeine and made her way to the door. "Colonel?"
"Er, y-yes, Lieutenant?"
"The Elrics are due back in Central today, so you will need to make time for a meeting with Edward this afternoon." Riza said as stepped out into the hallway.
"Oh… yes. Of course, thank you, Lieutenant," Roy managed as the door closed behind her.
"Damnit, Colonel!"
Roy immediately felt several veins in his head throb, anticipating the following remarks, "Yes, Breda?" He seethed.
"Could that have been any more awkward, or was that just me?" Breda demanded support from the rest of Roy's subordinates, immediately getting nods of agreement. "See? It wasn't just me!"
"Your point, Second Lieutenant?" Roy spat out the word 'point' with subdued frustration.
"What the hell is going on between you and the First Lieutenant? You two didn't-"
Before Breda could suggest anything, sexual or otherwise, between Mustang and Hawkeye, Roy slammed his fist down on his desk.
"Didn't what!" Roy's glare was effectively sinking Breda deep into his seat, only his quaking mess of red hair visible over his desk. "I suggest you all start on your work, or you'll be looking at the business end of a court marshal!"
"S-sir? Not doing paperwork isn't an offense that constitutes a court marshal," Fuery whimpered.
"Not following the orders of your superior commander is! Get to work!" Roy had worked himself up into such a fit that he was standing up, leaning over his desk with his hands clenching and unclenching. Several semi-important documents were crushed by his grip, causing Roy to get even more frustrated.
Just before he was driven into a raging hissy-fit, Riza walked into the room, effectively pushing all of Roy's self-pitying thoughts out of his head. She stopped at looked at the men working diligently (in a terrified rush), obviously confused by such an infrequent sight.
Roy was blitzing through a stack of documents with determination. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I get off, the sooner she can go home. He looked up between papers for a moment, watching Hawkeye begin her work lethargically. I'm not making you play babysitter today, Lieutenant. Not today.
Lunch came and went uneventfully, Mustang's men were grateful for the moments reprieve from his dictator-like temperament. Roy found himself finishing everything that needing doing that day barely an hour after lunch. He hadn't done that since he started working, ever. Satisfied with his accomplishment, he started to slowly work on work ahead of the due date. Roy took the time to read Edward's report at his leisure, in its entirety (another first), looking for any flagrant expenses the boy had worked up or fiascos he could use for the impending vocal smack-down.
"Sir?" A soft voice pulled him out of Edward's report. He set the folder on his desk and looked at Hawkeye, wordlessly giving her admittance into his office.
"Do you need something?" he asked cautiously as she let the door close behind her, unsure of the nature of her visit.
"Permission to take a few hours leave, Sir?"
"Why? Are you feeling okay? If you aren't, then you have to go home. I don't care how stubborn you are. I can be just as –"
"Sir?" Hawkeye interrupted, massaging her temples lightly with one hand, "Permission to take a few hours leave," she stopped Roy's bombardment of questions with a glare, "to go to the shooting range?" She pulled out the evaluation he had left at her apartment the night before. "There are a few things I want to work on."
"Oh." Roy sat down, not entirely sure when he stood up in the first place. "Well if that's all then permission grant—
You're sure you're fine? I mean, why didn't you say so before I – well, I suppose I didn't let you finish – if you aren't fine then I want you resting." Roy stammered. His 'responsible colonel', 'caring friend', and 'damaged male ego' were all trying to be heard at once. And I'm considered charismatic?
"I'm fine, Sir. And besides, Edward is coming. I would prefer to not be around here when you two… discuss business, though I'm using the term 'discuss' very loosely."
"Lieutenant, are you suggesting that I lack the capacity to deal with Fullmetal like an adult?" Roy asked in a very business-like tone.
"I'm suggesting that neither of you nor Edward have the capacity to hold a civilized conversation with each other," Hawkeye responded in an equally professional tone.
"That hurt, Lieutenant," Roy's voice was now laced with dramatic pain and insult, "Permission to leave granted."
"Thank you Sir," She saluted and left, leaving a mentally and physically exhausted Roy to his own thoughts.
Am I overreacting? She can take care of herself…You know that that's not entirely true. That's why you're so worried.
Roy shuddered for a moment, vague images flashing through his mind. His Lieutenant falling before the Homunculus, alone. Empty rounds scattered across a floor wet with blood, still warm. All were merely figments of his imagination.
But you didn't have these kind of thoughts before…This time his mind was plagued by memories of real events. Alphonse standing as the only thing between his Lieutenant and death in the massive underground paths. A death that she had accepted, even desired on some level?
Roy wrestled with his thoughts, oblivious to everything until Edward stormed into the room, not bothering to announce his arrival or ask permission to enter. Through the open door Roy caught a glimpse of Alphonse greeting everyone, apologizing on behalf of his brother's behavior.
"Good afternoon, Fullmetal."
"Eh, what's good about it?"
"Well, I have the privilege of spending some quality time with my favorite little subordinate."
"Oh, 'little' am I! And another thing, you don't have any right to claim authority over me!" Ed threw his weight down in a chair in front of Roy's desk with a huff, muttering about military dictatorship and hierarchy.
Well, this will be fun. Roy thought sarcastically, grabbing Ed's report up from his desk.
Yay, a little Ed humor. How refreshing. Next chapter we'll see more of Al. Reviews are fun… thanks for reading. Hopefully another chaper tomorrow... (i.e. today later than 1 AM) Worst case then the day after... so no matter what less than 24 hours tops, I promise!