A/N: I'm baaaaack! If there are any questions about the timeframe, the opening scenes take place around the time of Maria's date. The ball itself would be taking place when she's talking to Denny. Just to clear up any misunderstandings!

Oh, just one other thing... one of my best friends, GreenEggsandSam, a.k.a. Winter choreographed the dance for me, as my dancing skills are limited to hip-hop and rock, not ballroom. She is an amazing dancer (ballet, jazz, and modern) so she designed this for me.

I lied; I have one more thing... okay, maybe more than one... First, I am not sure of the Fuhrer's eye color; I'm simply making a semi-educated guess. Also, a lot of this chapter is pure fluff, and some of it is actually important stuff disguised as fluff, so... yeah.

-Jade

"What do you think of the new chick?" A group of men belonging to the Organization sat playing cards at a table in a smoke-filled bar. "Lisa Something."

"Oh, you mean Rhade? She's a babe," one said. "Ah, hell. I fold." He tossed his hand on the table, revealing a pair of twos.

"She's Mae'var's bitch, though, ain't she?" Another threw three chips into the growing pile in the center of the table.

"I don't know," said the first man who had spoken, tapping the ash from his cigar onto the floor. "She's got that look, ya know? The look of a killer." He glanced at his hand and matched the three chips previously thrown in, then added another five.

"Don't we all?" one said with a laugh. He looked at his cards, then at the pot. "Damn. I fold." A pair of fours.

Two sevens joined the other folded cards as another spoke. "Yeah. I've never heard of her, though... you'd think she was new to this business."

"Too steep for me," more cards joined the others on the table. "She can't be a newbie, though- have you seen the way she shoots?" he held out one had as a mock gun. "Bang, bullseye every time.

The first man nodded. "I almost feel bad for that sucker who's got the info we need." He looked at his cards again. "You all fold?"

They nodded.

He tossed his cards on the table, and the others cursed. "Joker, high."

-xXx-

Little did the card-playing criminals know, the woman the were speaking of was in a booth near the back of the same bar, not too far away from where they were sitting.

"There's a Military ball tonight," Fedora-man said softly, leaning across the dirty table to make himself heard over the general noise.

"And how am I supposed to get in?" Riza asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "This is rather short notice for me to get into a ball."

"I put your name- your real name- on the guest list, as well as Mustang's. Just get someone in the Organization to forge you identification papers so they don't get suspicious." He smiled. "Now you'll finally be able to wear that pretty dress."

"How do you know what's in my closet?" she demanded.

Fedora-man chuckled. "The Organization's not the only one keeping tabs on you. It's for your own protection," he added quickly at the irate look on her face. "Now, the Organization's knowledge of any Military officers outside of Central is rather limited, so odds are they won't know that the Riza Hawkeye they are forging the papers for actually works under Mustang. Here's what you're going to do..."

-xXx-

The private at the door of the Fuhrer's mansion grinned. "What Colonel, no date?"

Apparently he was known by sight, usually for whatever woman he had hanging off his arm on any particular night. Roy grinned back. "No, no date... not yet, anyway."

"Papers, sir?" the black-uniformed private extended his hand. "Just a formality, of course."

"Of course," Roy agreed, pulling his identification papers out of his jacket pocket and handing them to the man. "It's unusually crowded tonight," he said, glancing at all the cars parked outside and the people already inside.

"Yeah." The private gave the papers a cursory look, then handed them back. "The Fuhrer's supposed to show up later, and everyone who wants a promotion managed to get their name on the list."

"Ya don't say," Roy mused, eyebrow raising. That's handy. Talk to Hawkeye and garner some support from higher-ups. Two chimeras with one strike.

The private opened the door. "Go on in, sir."

-xXx-

"And therefore, I believe that the taxes should be..." Roy was politely feigning interest in what the fat bureaucrat was droning on and on about when the servant rang his bell.

I hate the Fuhrer's adherence to the old customs, Roy complained to himself. This is 1914... you don't need to announce whenever someone comes in.

"Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye," the servant announced, sounding just as bored as Roy was.

His head jerked up to see Riza walking down the stairs, wearing a long, sleeveless red gown that shimmered softly with every movement. Her blonde hair was drawn up into a tight bun, and her dress was low-cut enough to show some cleavage. Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments, then she pretended that she hadn't seen him.

"Excuse me for a moment," Roy said quickly, inclining his head slightly and making his way toward the former Lieutenant.

The bureaucrat's wife took her husband's arm. "So that's the Flame Alchemist? He seems like a nice young man."

"Hmph." The bureaucrat spotted his next victim. "Ah, Lieutenant General, might I have a moment of your time...?"

Roy made his way slowly but deliberately across the crowded room toward her. "Hawkeye?" he managed to choke out, trying his hardest to keep his eyes from roving across her body in a way that would have gotten him slapped.

"So this is the famous Mustang charm?" Riza said sarcastically but softly so they couldn't be overheard. "Frankly, sir, I'm not impressed." She quirked an eyebrow at his disbelieving expression.

Roy flashed her his trademark smirk and brought her hand to his lips. "So, you want the Mustang charm?" He used his grip on her hand to pull her into the center of the dance floor. "Do you know the Rakshasha?"

She gave him an oh-please look and walked over to the Military band. "Can you play the Rakshasha?" she asked the conductor.

The tuxedoed man blinked down at her. "If you think you can dance to it, miss."

"Oh, I can dance to it," she promised him before walking back to Roy.

"Attention everyone!" the conductor said into his microphone. "Please clear the floor for Colonel Roy Mustang and his stunning partner Riza Hawkeye as they dance the Rakshasha!"

"Last chance to back out before you embarrass yourself, sir," Riza whispered.

"Not on your life," he grinned. "You'll be surprised."

The Rakshasha was a difficult, fast-paced dance from the south that was little known and rarely attempted. It wasn't exactly something one could improvise or learn overnight. Neither of the two dancers had done it in years, and despite his boasts, Roy hoped he could still do it after all this time.

The assorted Military personnel stood in a ring around the dance floor, some with drinks in their hands as the opening notes of the music were played, the deceptively slow drumbeats filling the room. The two dancers took their positions opposite each other, Riza with her hands stretched high above her head, waiting for Roy to start.

And start he did.

Roy snapped the fingers of his left hand in time with the beat, belatedly wishing that he had put his gloves on- now that would have been a cool effect. He brought his left leg forward, back, to the side, and back again, lightly tapping his foot against the ground with each movement as the speed of the beats increased, building into the main theme. And- there, that was his cue. He pushed off the ground with his right foot, spinning three times to land on one knee in the center of the floor.

Riza smiled slyly and spun twice, dress swirling around her. Midway through the second turn she felt her ankle wobble in her high heels and she almost fell, but she was close enough and Roy caught her and tipped her back until she stared straight up at the chandelier above.

"I never knew you could dance, Colonel," Riza said when he flipped her upright again and the music reached a slower tempo.

Roy smirked. "Well, Riza, I never thought I'd see you in red lacy underwear-" he held her close as the dance demanded.

She gasped, eyes flicking up to meet his. "You could see-?"

He blinked. "I made that up... are you really?" his smirk widened.

The music began moving faster again, and right on cue he flipped her up and over his head.

Riza landed lightly with some surprise- she had never been lifted that easily before. Roy pivoted to face her as she landed, and as he took her hand and spun her he felt her long blonde hair falling out of its neat bun and spilling down her shoulders.

Once she'd stopped spinning, Riza threw her arms around his neck as he grabbed her legs and tilted her backward. She let go and let the backs of her hands caress the floor; the only thing keeping her head from smacking against the floor was his strong grip.

Roy was definitely enjoying himself as her brought her into a standing position. Riza began to grind against him as they moved around the floor. As they hear the last strands of the Rakshasha being played, the Lieutenant and the Colonel spun in three dizzying circles each. The music came to the finale, and with the last drumbeats Riza leapt onto his shoulder. They held the pose until the last echoes of the drums faded away.

He lowered her gently to the ground as their audience applauded, pushing his slightly sweaty black hair away from his face. "Well, Riza," he started.

"Fuhrer, three o'clock," she hissed, and Roy straightened. She knows me too well, he thought as he turned around, sliding his arm around her waist.

"That was very well done," Fuhrer King Bradley complimented them. "It's been a long time since I've seen a well-done Rakshasha."

"Thank you, Fuhrer, I am honored," Roy said with a bow. Since she was no longer technically part of the Military, Riza simply inclined her head politely.

"But Lieutenant Hawkeye," Bradley continued. "I was deeply disappointed to hear of your resignation from Military service... does your appearance here mean that I was given false information?" His one light green eye stared penetratingly into her dark brown. Roy's eyes narrowed for a moment, but he regained control and continued standing impassively.

"No sir, you heard correctly," Riza replied, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "I am only here because of the Colonel."

"Ah, I see," Bradley nodded. "I am sorry to hear that, Miss Hawkeye; you were a talented officer."

"Thank you, sir," Roy felt her straighten reflexively with the praise.

"And you, Colonel Mustang; even though your name was on the list, I hardly expected you to journey all the way here from Eastern. Surely you have business to take care of in East HQ?" His tone remained friendly, but Roy detected something in his bearing.

Why so many questions? What do you know? Roy kept his suspicion off his face, but knew his questions could still be seen in his jet black eyes. "Nothing more important than my business in Central, sir."

"Oh? And what business is that, Colonel Mustang?" His tone again remained even, but Roy could definitely see the Fuhrer's eye harden.

What are you getting at? "No business that would concern the Fuhrer," Roy responded.

"I should hope not," Bradley smiled. "Well, I have other guests to attend to, so if you two will excuse me, I'll take my leave."

"Sir." Roy saluted again as the Fuhrer walked away.

"What was that about, sir?" Riza asked softly.

He shook his head slowly, a thoughtful gleam in his eyes. "I'm not sure." Roy looked up with a grin. "Well, no matter. Come on," he used his arm around her waist to guide her to the punch table. "You can tell me where the Ice Queen learned to dance."

She shook her head and offered a small smile. "My grandfather taught me, sir."

"Call me Roy."

"Very well then... Roy," she let his name slide off her tongue, eyebrow raising.

The Colonel didn't notice the look of fleeting despair that flashed across her face for the briefest of seconds. This won't last, Riza, she found herself thinking. You know how he is. Don't get your hopes up. This is all an act that will disappear once this undercover mission is completed.

Roy looked down and saw her thinking. "What?" he asked, grin faltering.

"Nothing," Riza shook her head briskly. Something caught her eye, and she turned to look. "Jade," she hissed suddenly, drawing closer to Mustang.

"What is it?" Roy scanned the crowd.

"No, sir, don't draw attention to us," she all but begged. "His name's Jade, he's with the Organization. He's here to make sure I fulfill my mission."

"Which is? Your contact hinted, but-"

"I need the location of the safehouse where Elysia is being kept," she couldn't meet his eyes.

And that's the only reason she's doing this, Roy, ran traitorously through his mind. This is an act to get information, nothing more. His face remained impassive. "I see."

"We should leave. Please, Roy?" she looked up at him pleadingly.

"Alright. Where are we going, exactly?"

Riza hesitated. "My apartment. I've already scanned it for listening devices, so right now it's the safest place. Come on," she grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd.

Roy put up no resistance to her gently tugging grasp. Is this all acting? he wondered. Or is this...

End Part Eight

A/N: I lied... most of the fluff was taken out of this chapter when I typed it, because there was fluff to the amount where it was hazardous to small children and could cause choking, so... yeah. Sorry! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and the next part may take time in coming because it is entirely Roy/Riza, and I'm not very good at romantic-y-ness, so... SORRY IN ADVANCE!

Haha, and now I begin to tie in the seemingly pointless Hakuro visit... teehee!

Please review?