Chocolate and Obsidian

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is not mine. The characters are not mine. The concept is not mine. Only this fanfic belongs to me, but I'll let you read it if you want.

Author's Note: I apologize profusely for this. I know all the readers wanted it to continue, but I simply lost interest in this story much faster than I thought I would, so I have taken the second chapter down and left the first as a one-shot. If you're too disappointed and wish to read more FMA fanfiction by me, check my profile for Hagane no Kokoro. It's finished and quite long. Again, I'm sorry for not continuing this fanfic. My muses can be fickle at times, I suppose.

First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye arrived at Central HQ ten minutes earlier than was required, but that was normal for her. She was a lean woman in her mid-twenties with chocolate brown eyes like those of a dog. She tended to look very serious when dressed in a military uniform with a pistol at her side and her long, blond hair pinned up tightly to that back of her head. She was also the kind of person who did not have much of a life outside of her job. This was not a fact that bothered her, though. All she asked for was a little time in the evenings to read a novel or take her dog for a walk, or both at the same time if there was still enough sunlight to read by. As long as she was able to enjoy those few hours, the rest of her time was willingly dedicated to her work. Besides, she had a special job to do. One that she had assigned to herself, and one that would hopefully go on for the rest of her life. There was a person who she needed to protect. That person often used the term "dog of the military" to describe his position, but every time he said that, Riza would think of herself as the real dog. A guard dog, loyal and fierce, like a Doberman Pincer. An interesting position with both good and bad points. Ah well, that was life.

The office was dark when Riza entered, but pulling back the course, cream-colored curtains sent radiant beams of sunlight flashing across the room to banish all traces of darkness. Even the shadows created by the desks were faint and unobtrusive. Next, she went about adjusting the arrangements on the two desks, straightening stacks of paper and pushing picture frames and one cup full of pens and pencils back into their proper places. Then she gave the dog that was waiting at her heels the signals to sit and stay before leaving the office momentarily for a cup of coffee. Normally, animals were not allowed in the military base, but everyone had agreed to make an exception for Hawkeye's pet dog, Black Hayate, especially since it was one of her coworkers who had originally brought in the homeless puppy in hopes that one of his fellow soldiers would be able to adopt it. At first, Riza had refused, but when no one else proved to have suitable accommodations for it, she gave in. By now, the black and white husky mix was extremely well trained, and if anyone asked, he was the base's guard dog. A guard dog just like Riza herself.

The building was quiet. It seemed Riza was the first one here today, which meant that she had to set up the coffee maker. She took it in stride, as was her nature. Many who met her thought of her as stoic. Her coworkers considered her serious to a fault and very dangerous to anger. Only two living beings besides herself knew her better then that, and one of those was her dog. The other was the man who she found kneeling on the floor in front of his desk and petting Black Hayate when she reentered the office. Pale skin, fine features, short black hair and the obsidian eyes of the people from the far east, one of which was covered by a large, black eye patch. This was Colonel Roy Mustang, and he was the person who it was Riza's duty to protect.

She stood in the open doorway, watching as he patted her dog once more on the head before standing up and smiling at her. She allowed just a hint of surprise to show in her voice when she commented, "you're early, Sir."

"Am I? That must be a first. Most of the time you're scolding me for being late."

Riza's expression remained neutral as she stepped across the room, but instead of going to her own small desk off to the side, she paused in front of his larger one and waited for him to take his seat. "Would you like some coffee, Sir?" she asked, holding out the steaming mug that she had originally prepared for herself.

"No thanks. I know you drink it black, and I can't stand it that strong."

"Shall I go pour another cup for you?"

"No," he said, shooing her back to her desk. "I'll just do it later. So then," he paused to stretch his arms forward and crack his knuckles, "what's first on today's list, Lieutenant?"

"First," Hawkeye answered steadily, "you need to finish the paperwork from yesterday, Sir."

"Oh, right..." he appeared to deflate slightly, and dragged the stack of day-old papers closer with a look of bored discontent. He even sighed dramatically as he skimmed over the pages.

"You know, Sir, if you got all of your work done quickly instead of goofing off, you would have more free time," Riza said with her usual cold logic. She herself was pleased to find very little paperwork on her own desk this morning. When she finished it, she knew that she would probably take pity on Mustang and help him with his. She could not suggest such a thing before hand, however, or he would almost certainly goof off in hopes that she would do everything for him. Men were such babies sometimes.

"You should take more pity on me," he whined as if partially reading her thoughts. "I've barely got back on my feet after the incident with King Bradley, and then there was that invasion from the other side of the Gate. It's really a miracle that I'm doing as well as I am now."

"If you have recovered from it enough to use it as an excuse then I think you're doing just fine, Sir." Although her words were harsh, the softer side of her could not help but secretly agree with him. Two years ago, he had taken it upon himself to kill the fuhrer, King Bradley after uncovering a secret plot to manipulate the government and thus the entire country. He could very well have been executed for doing so, but all of the evidence pointed to his story being true. Instead, he was only demoted and sent to a far off post in the north once the grievous injuries received in the fight with Bradley had healed, and there he had stayed until just one month ago, when the infamous Fullmetal Alchemist returned from the mysterious world beyond the gate, bringing with him an army that's purpose was to conquer this world. Mustang had valiantly aided the fight against them, and won. In fact, he had proved to be no less than a hero in that battle, and had earned back his position as colonel. Most everyone agreed that he deserved it. Even so, Hawkeye could not forget that his actions against the fuhrer had made his real goal in life impossible. The whole reason that Mustang - not to mention his faithful subordinates - had worked so hard to move up in the ranks was so that he could one day become the fuhrer himself, but after he had murdered Fuhrer Bradley, there was no way the public would ever trust him enough for such an aspiration to bear fruit. Riza sipped her bitter coffee and wondered for the umpteenth time how much losing his dream had actually affected Roy Mustang. He acted fine in public. She doubted that anyone else even noticed a change, but then, Riza was the only one who really knew how to read Roy Mustang. The trouble was that this time he was using such a good mask that even she could not determine exactly how he was feeling, only that not all was right with him.

"Now who's goofing off?"

Mustang's voice snapped her out of her reverie and made her realize with quite a bit of chagrin that she had been staring off into space with her pen poised motionlessly over her paper for the last thirty or so seconds. Shaking her head and blinking several times, she refocused on the task in front of her. "Sorry, Sir."

"No need for apologies. If it's true that I don't work enough, then it's also true that you work too much. You should really think about taking a vacation. Oh, that reminds me," he added before she could object, "I have a date tonight, so I will be driving myself home. I expect you to use the extra free time to do anything you want as long as it does not involve work. Understood?"

"Y-yes, Sir."

"You could congratulate me, you know. I can't even remember the last time I went on a date. It was definitely more than two years ago."

Riza stared hard at the paper on her desk in order to avoid looking at him. "Congratulations," she said curtly. If he was picking back up his habit of dating, perhaps he really was back to normal. Still, it was the one habit that Riza had hoped he would not return to. It annoyed her even more than his chronically late paperwork. Of course, she could never tell him that. He would just tease her for being jealous. Then again, maybe that would lead him to start thinking about her the way he thought of those other pretty young women he dated, and then...

She cut that stream of thought off right there, before it could go too far. Even if he could never be the fuhrer, Colonel Roy Mustang was the type to always aim for the sky in whatever way he could, and it was Riza's job to be his support, not just a distraction. She could not afford to screw that up now, and after all that had happened, neither could he.

Several minutes passed in which the only sounds to be heard were the scritch-scratch of pens on paper and the faint rustle of wind in the trees and hedges outside. After finishing three and a half pages of work, Roy pushed his chair back and stood up. Before Riza could question him, he gestured at her now mostly empty mug. "I'm going to get some coffee now. Want a refill?"

"Oh. Yes." She held out the cup for him to take. It was an old but unchipped ceramic thing painted a solid, creamy white, coincidentally the same color as the window curtains. "Thank you, Sir."

"Don't mention it." He whisked the cup out of her hand and exited the room, leaving her in a suddenly very empty office. Black Hayate had grown bored a few minutes earlier and wandered out to see if anyone else had arrived yet who would pay more attention to him. Riza did notice the dog's absence, but it was Mustang's that stood out the most. The man was like a giant. His presence was impossible to miss when he was in the room, and it was impossible not to notice the difference when he left. She wondered if other people had recognized this phenomenon too, or if it was just her. Of course, he returned just two minutes and forty-eight seconds later, carrying two cups of warm, pleasantly-scented coffee. She nodded in thanks and took a sip as soon as he handed over hers, only to be momentarily shocked by the rush of unexpected flavor. She stared in bewilderment into her cup at the coffee that was anything but black, then looked up at Mustang and arched an eyebrow. "Sir... what did you do my coffee?"

He watched her reaction with a look of amusement. "Well, I was just thinking that you haven't had any variety in your daily life lately, so I decided to spice it up a little to keep you from becoming bored. You do like it, don't you?"

"Um... yes, Sir. Thank you for your consideration." Curious now, she took another sip, this time holding the liquid in her mouth and testing it with her tongue to identify each flavor. There was milk, honey, a hint of cinnamon and... was that mint? She swallowed and opened her eyes, having not even noticed that she had closed them in the first place. Mustang was still standing in front of her desk, watching her, and now there was a distinctly clever smile on his face. Disturbingly, he reminded her of a cat who has just tricked a mouse into running right into his paws.

"I thought so," was all he said before returning to his desk, leaving her to wonder what thought it was that she had unknowingly confirmed. Already, her mind had formed several different guesses, some of which she dared not even consider for long. Shaking her head again, she returned to the tedium of her paperwork.

-

To Hawkeye's surprise, Mustang actually managed to finish all of that day's work by mid afternoon, though she imagined it was just so he would have time to get ready for his date. Sure enough, as soon as all of his business was in order, he snatched his jacket off the back of his chair and left in a hurry, with only a quick farewell in her general direction. Once again, Riza was left behind in the overwhelming emptiness left in her superior's wake, but she herself was on the last document that needed going over. It was done quickly, and she was soon on her way out, Black Hayate in tow. Either Roy had forgotten the fact that they only had one car between them right now, or he had just assumed that she would not mind walking home. Luckily for him, that assumption was correct, but Riza was still displeased with him for not even bothering to consult her on the matter. At the same time, though, she was not surprised by his carefree behavior, and he had won her favor that morning with the coffee treat, so she decided to give him a break this time.

Black Hayate stayed right at her heels as she walked along the side of the street, but she could tell by the tension in his muscles and the alert prick of his ears that he would much rather be moving at his own brisk pace. Riza smiled to herself and took a detour, and the clever dog noticed the change immediately. His tail began to wag with excitement and she could see him actually fighting with himself to keep from running ahead of her without permission. When their new destination came into view, she gave him a casual word that released him from his invisible restraint, and the dog went galloping on ahead to the small, fenced in park meant specifically for dogs and their owners to play in. Riza caught up to find that she and her pet had the place to themselves for now, which was perfectly fine in her opinion. She found a fallen stick that was just over a foot long and did not show any signs of being claimed previously by another dog. When Black Hayate came back to her, tail still wagging like a fluffy black flag, she initiated a game of fetch, enjoying the dog's happiness as he clowned around with the make-shift toy before bringing it back to her. She could not help but with that another person she cared about was as easy for her to please.

"Black Hayate," she said to the dog when he had tired of the game and was sitting in front of her with his tongue lolling out, "you should feel lucky that I got you neutered. The trials of romance can be such a pain."

The dog just cocked his head to the side at her words and licked her hand when she held it out to him.

"Come on, then. Time to go home."

-

As she neared her small but well-kept house near the end of a street ironically named Hawking Drive, Hawkeye could see a wall of storm clouds coming in from the north. By the time she had fed Black Hayate, taken a rushed shower and made herself a sandwich for supper, it was raining outside. After eating, she relaxed on her forest green sofa and listened to the raindrops pitter-pattering on the window while the dog lay snoring on a rug by the lit fireplace. There was a book in her hand with a paper marker placed about a third of the way in, but she had not yet opened it. She just let the rain's scattered rhythm guide her thoughts to whatever paths they chose to wander.

Her first thought was of Roy, because he was quite useless in the rain. Roy Mustang's other name was the Flame Alchemist. Fire was his specialty. He wore gloves with a special texture that would create a spark when he snapped his fingers together, and also had transmutation circles sewn into them so that he could perform the unique style of alchemy that had earned him his name. He transmuted the air around him, changing its composition to turn the little spark from his gloves into an explosion of flames that he could aim at any target. To be honest, it had always greatly impressed Riza, especially since she was not an alchemist herself, but the fact remained that rain made him useless. If his gloves were wet, there would be no spark, and no spark meant no flame alchemy.

The subject of alchemy got her thinking about another state alchemist like Roy. The Fullmetal Alchemist had become quite famous in the nation of Amestris before vanishing two years ago. His real name was Edward Elric, and he was actually not much more than a kid. He was a child prodigy, to be exact. He had passed the test to become a state alchemist at just twelve years of age. The test was very competitive, and the one or two people who did make it through each year normally did so by demonstrating some rare alchemical skill like Mustang's flame alchemy. Edward Elric had passed because of his very unique and almost unheard of ability to perform alchemy without the use of a transmutation circle, but he was given the title Fullmetal Alchemist because both his right arm and left leg had been lost in an accident and replaced by fully articulated, mechanical, metal prosthetics called auto-mail. To the public, it was said that the boy's limbs had been severed during the violent Ishbalan rebellion in the east, but the truth was a much darker secret involving the forbidden practice of human transmutation.

Edward Elric was another person who Riza Hawkeye cared a great deal about, though certainly not in the same was she cared about Roy. Edward and his younger brother, Alphonse had been through so much, but they were still so young. Riza really worried about them sometimes. Of course, now they had both disappeared into that mysterious other world beyond the so-called Gate. She could only hope that they would find a way back or at least stay safe and continue to look after each other, wherever they were.

Thinking about what had changed led her to thinking about what had stayed the same. Although they had lost Maes Hughes, the rest of the military officers who worked under Colonel Mustang were still holding together, not to mention moving up in the ranks. If Mustang had not regained his position as colonel when he did, they would all be his equals or even superiors by now. Fury, Havoc, Falman and Breda were all doing quite well, though Breda was still too afraid of dogs to get along with Black Hayate. Ross and Brosh were actually dating now, or so Hawkeye had heard. Those two were not as close-knit as the rest of the group, but they were still diligent workers and trustworthy company.

No, not much had changed at Central Headquarters, except that there was a new fuhrer. Hawkeye did not know the man well, though he had worked closely under King Bradley in the past, but had not been involved in all the trouble that had resulted in Mustang's choice to battle and kill the previous fuhrer. Hawkeye got the impression that he had accepted his new position mainly to satisfy his own greed, but at least he did his job. In a military state like this, there was not much use in trying to change the situation unless it was so bad that there was no other choice in the matter. That's how Riza looked at it, anyway.

Something in that thought process had reminded her of the book she held, but just as she was about to open it, there was a knock on the door. Wondering who would come calling so late, she set the book on the small, wooden lamp table beside the sofa and stepped across the room to the mahogany-colored door. To her surprise, it was Roy Mustang who she found standing on her front porch, dripping rain water and looking quite pathetic.

"Hi, Riza," he greeted informally. "Can I come in, please?"

"It's 'may I come in, please'," she corrected him automatically, "and what happened to your date, Sir?"

At that, his expression grew even more forlorn. "She stood me up."

Riza stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. "So why did you come here instead of going home, Sir? And please wait here in the entryway. I'll bring you a towel so you don't drip all over my furniture," she added, brushing past him on her way to the little closet by the bathroom where such things were kept.

"I hoped you would console me," he said, raising his voice so that she could hear him clearly. "First date in two years and the girl doesn't even show up. What does that say about me? Have I lost my touch?"

Riza's answer sounded harsh, but she was suppressing a smile as she asked, "what do you want me to do about it, Sir? Feed you warm milk, tuck you into bed and read you a story?" Actually, the tucking him into bed part was not such a bad idea... No. Riza chased that errant image out of her mind rather frantically, and tried not to blush as she returned with the promised towel.

Roy accepted the fluffy, yellow thing and scrubbed vigorously at his sopping hair before wrapping it around his damp shoulders. He did not answer her snide remark immediately, and when he made no move, she gently shoved him in the direction of the sofa. Considerately, he spread the towel over the backrest and cushion before actually sitting down. While Riza went to the kitchen to start some peppermint tea boiling, Roy took the time to glance around her living room. It was small and cozy, with a faint flowery scent that mixed nicely with the cool, refreshing small of the rain. The color scheme was deep and rich, and reminiscent of a forest. Dusky green curtains matched the sofa and Black Hayate's rug. The fireplace was built out of rust-colored bricks while the mantle, door, windowsill, table, and hard floor were various shades of varnished wood. He looked down at the paperback book that had been left on the table. It looked like a romance novel. "Well," he answered finally, "a story sounds nice. What's this you're reading? I didn't know you liked romance novels."

"It's a detective story," Riza told him, reentering the room with two small cups of tea. "It just happens to be romantic. Here, b careful not to spill this. It's hot," she warned, handing him one of the delicate teacups with care before sitting down next to him with her own drink. Before she could stop him, he put the cup to his lips and immediately jerked away, eyes watering. Riza just sighed. "I told you it was hot, Sir."

"Ow..."

When he did not say anything else, Riza asked uncertainly, "do you really want me to read to you, Sir?"

"No, never mind. Now that you mention it, I think that's the same book that Havoc described to be in excruciating detail last week."

"That would make sense, since he's the one I borrowed it from."

"I see."

An uncomfortable silence fell over them. Both sat side-by-side in almost identical poses, holding their teacups with both hands and staring down into the transparent, green-brown liquid. Black Hayate snorted in his sleep and rolled over onto his back. His paws began to twitch repeatedly, and Riza wondered if he was dreaming about a squirrel that she had watched him chase the other day. After several moments, she lifted her cup and breathed in the lively scent of the peppermint before blowing on the surface to cool it and taking a sip. Roy gingerly followed her lead and was relieved to find that the drink was not quite too hot anymore. "This is very good tea, now that it's not burning my tongue," he commented.

"Sorry about that, Sir."

He shook his head, then took another taste. "It wasn't your fault. You did try to warn me. I just didn't listen."

"Well, I hope you learned your lesson and I'm glad you enjoy the tea, Sir."

Roy chuckled. "You never change, Hawkeye. You're like a cat, you know? In all outward appearances, you serve under me, but sometimes I wonder if you're the one who is really in control."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sir," Riza said, keeping up her perfect poker face. "Besides, I'm more like a dog than a cat."

"Oh, really? How so? Other than being one of the military's attack dogs, of course."

"I am the loyal protector of my master and will never abandon him," she explained quietly and hoped that she had not said too much.

Mustang looked at her measuringly until she felt like she was about to start sweating. Finally, he gave her a casual smile and said, "I see what you mean. Good girl. Remind me to give you a biscuit and a pat on the head."

"Now hold it, Sir." she met his eyes fiercely, brown on black. "If you start treating me like your pet, I-" the words died in her mouth as he placed a single fingertip on her lips.

"You are very pretty when you're riled up, you know?"

Riza gasped, her eyes wide. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, turning them pink, and still no words could be forced past her throat. Her reaction only made him smile wider. Finally, he removed his finger and leaned back, still watching her with that sly expression on his face. "I thought so," he said for the second time that day, but now Riza knew exactly what he was talking about.

Still blushing, she turned her head down and away to avoid meeting that shining obsidian eye again. "I think you should leave now, Sir," she said in a strangled voice, barely above a whisper.

"But I haven't finished my tea yet," he complained, going back to his usual whiny self. "I thought you gave it to me to warm me up so I wouldn't catch a cold."

"Take it with you."

He gave her a gloomy look, but when she did not say anything else or even glance at him, he just sighed and stood up, turning halfway to look down at where he had been sitting. "What should I do with the towel?"

"Leave it."

"Okay." He waited a moment longer, but Riza was still being stubborn, so he wished her a good night and left the house.

She waited until he had closed the door behind him and she heard the car door open and shut and the engine start before she moved at all. Setting her teacup down on the table next to the book, she stood up and retrieved the damp but warm towel, resisting the urge to bring it up to her face and find out if he had left his scent of cologne and woodsmoke on it. After dropping off the towel in a laundry basket, she returned to finish her tea. The book, which was in fact a romance story that just happened to involve a detective rather than the other way around, was completely forgotten.