AN- traceyCoder- oh, gosh, reading fanfiction instead of homework is very bad...'course, i do it all the time anyway, but...heh. maybe my lack of studying for anything is why my spelling sucks so badly (basterd-bastard, apparently ;;) thanks SO MUCH for the compliments-it really rocks, getting such amazing reviews. as of right now, roy wont be dating anyone else (including Riza, you ask? well, i dont wanna give it ALL away XD)...and, since everyone seems to hate The Date so much, i may have to do something horrible to her, just for fun. XD that'll be in the last chapter if at all, tho.

flOofymikO- wow...i'm at a loss...seriously, these reviews totally bring up my days! i'll keep doin' my best to deserve 'em!

HI ALL. wheee, i'm back! i squeezed in as much writin' time as i possibly could, so that i could get back here faster. this chapter's a shorter one, that pretty much just shows the results of Friday's dating disaster. it doesnt really bring up any new issues, but it does lead into the next chapter, which'll be the start of the action (FINALLY!). i really could have just combined this chapter with the next one, as i'm not sure it's good enough to stand on its own, but i really wanted to post again. just look at this as an effort for me to get back in the groove.

disclaimer--don't own. sad, i know.

Separate Ways

"Ahh! Goddamn paper shit! Quit disorganizing yourself!"

Roy sat at his desk, trying furiously to sort out all the crap in front of him. Papers that he should have mailed out weeks ago lay crumpled up on top of Edward Elric's latest report, which he still hadn't gotten around to reading yet, and forms long past due kept falling off the desk altogether. There was, to be perfectly frank, more paper then there was desk space to hold it all.

From somewhere underneath all the junk, the phone began ringing, its sound muffled. Roy cursed and began digging through the disheveled piles, looking for the phone, but all he found were more files.

"Damn it, where the hell's the phone- oh, come on!!"

A large stack of heavy research documents chose that moment to fall on him. After finding his way to the surface--he gave up on finding the phone--he grabbed the nearest report and stared at it. His brows furrowed as he realized it was one he'd already filled out last week. As the supervisor of his office, he was supposed to send out the paperwork once he was done with it, but as Roy Mustang, he was usually too lazy to finish all the crud, much less hand it in. That kind of disregard for work was the kind that could get a cocky colonel already disliked by his higher-ups in a lot of trouble, but Roy had a safeguard against being caught, otherwise known as First Lieutenant Hawkeye.

He remembered well the first time he'd forgotten to send stuff out in his eagerness to meet up with his latest date: he'd gone rushing back to the office that Monday certain he was in for it. Instead, he'd stared in disbelief at the desk in front of him—not only had the forms been sent out, but his desk was neater then he'd ever seen it. It was kind of scary, really…he could actually see the desk! Knowing full well the only person who'd been there when he'd left was Riza, he'd turned to thank her, but she'd acted like she hadn't done a thing. Obviously Roy knew that was an act…what confused him was why she'd done it at all. But, whatever the reason, he would come in on Mondays to see his desk clean, organized, and actually safe to be within a hundred miles of. Every Monday, without fail….except for this Monday.

Mustang sighed and dropped the report onto the nearest pile. What was he thinking? After all the shit he caused, he was still expecting her to be cleaning up after him? He stole a glance at Riza. She was reading a file, brows creased in concentration, deliberately not looking up. Usually the two of them would talk while they worked- or rather, while Riza worked and Roy pretended he couldn't see the hundreds of files in front of him. Not today. Today, they sat in uncomfortable silence, speaking only to ask a question on a report or to locate a document. The stillness between the two of them was so unpleasant that Second Lieutenant Havoc, who was usually in Roy's office at this time of day, had abandoned ship as soon as he possibly could, muttering something about a manuscript he had to look up.

"Ergh….fricken waste of my time…"

Scrawling a messy version of his name onto some month-old work order, Roy tossed it onto the rather small finished pile and grabbed another sheet. For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the room were the scratching of pen against paper, and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Tick…tick….tick….

Roy thought he was going to go crazy in a second. He stopped writing and looked up at Riza again. Now she was stapling two papers together, and underlining a third, all the while reading a thick report on alchemy research. It had always amazed Roy how she could do three or four things at once….especially since he had trouble just doing one.

Tick…tick…tick…

Roy groaned loudly and threw his pen down. He saw Riza's head jerk slightly, as if she'd been about to look up at him but had stopped herself. He tried to bring himself to say something to her, but his mouth wouldn't work.

God, he hated this.

He tried to focus on the paper in front of him, but it wasn't working too well. For one thing, he was exhausted. A weekend of binge drinking had culminated in the world's worst hangover. Although that was to be expected, considering he'd broken open his first bottle of booze around noon on Saturday, and had passed out sometime--he wasn't too sure, considering how wasted he'd been--close to midnight on Sunday.

Sunday night, he'd been treated to yet another nightmare as a result of his unhappiness, Friday's disaster, and all the alcohol. This one had been almost the same as Friday's, with the slight difference that Riza had blamed him entirely as she died. It had rattled him so much that he'd gone into the bathroom and swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills; he hadn't bothered to read the usage directions for them, even though he knew that was dangerous. (Frankly, after just having watched his lieutenant die for the second time in three nights, the idea of an 'eternal rest' sounded like a pretty damn good idea.) But, of course, Monday morning found him at the office, groggy and out of it, with the woman that he'd been fixated over all weekend ignoring him completely.

Tick...tick….tick….

The Colonel couldn't take it anymore. He opened his mouth to say something, but Riza beat him to it.

"This file needs your signature, sir," she informed him quietly. "I already filled out all the information it required."

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, not meeting her eye. She made a noise as if she was going to say something else, but when he finally looked up, she was staring down at the carpet. He sighed again and stood up.

Riza glanced at him. "Do you want something, sir?" He shook his head.

"Hawkeye, this is stupid."

She looked at him, uncertain. "Sir…?"

"Why the hell are we…." He stopped, clenching his fists as guilt took hold of him again. No matter how many times it hit him, he simply could not get used to feeling like such an asshole…he simply could not accept the knowledge that he was the reason everything was so fucked up…damn…why the hell were they acting like this?

Oh, come on, Mustang, you already know the answer to that…and if he needed any more reminding, all he had to do was envision the burning hell of his dreams…

"Roy Mustang, you have some serious explaining to do!"

Roy looked up, startled, as Hughes barged in, looking very unhappy. "I go to all that trouble—I was looking forward to it—you are such a moron!"

"Nice to see you too," Roy grumbled, sitting back down. Riza followed suit, not looking at Hughes. If Roy didn't know better, he'd say she looked uneasy…

"Don't give me that, you jerk." Hughes was so filled with righteous indignation, he didn't even notice Riza. "We were talking about it for over an hour. You swore you'd go through with it. And what do you do? You totally screw things up, I mean, you should have seen—"

"Hughes!" Realization hit him in the nick of time, and Roy leapt to his feet, glaring furiously at his friend. "You moron, don't talk about that here!"

Hughes looked surprised. "Why no—" His eyes fell on Riza and he gulped. "Oh, oops. My bad…"

Roy growled in frustration, and Riza flushed darkly. She stood up, her chair scrapping against the floor. "Excuse me, sirs. I didn't mean to intrude."

"Argh….no, Riz--Hawkeye, it's not…I mean, we…you…"

Hughes decided he'd better take over for his desperately fumbling friend. "No, Lieutenant, you don't have to leave. You're not intruding on anything….right, Roy?"

But Roy didn't say anything. What could he say? He didn't want Riza there to hear what Hughes had to talk about. He didn't want to have to look into her eyes and fantasize about what could have, should have, might have been. And he didn't want Riza to think even less of him then she already did…if that was even possible at this point.

" Roy." Hughes gave his friend a 'what-the-heck-is-wrong-with-you-say-something' look, but it was too late. Riza's expression was guarded as always, but a faint red tinge on her cheeks showed her inner mortification.

"I apologize. I'll leave the two of you alone so you can talk." She turned on her heel and left, the door slamming shut behind her. Roy winced slightly at the bang, but otherwise he didn't move.

Hughes sighed. "I don't suppose I have to tell you how stupid that was, right?"

Roy smirked, bitterly. "Yeah, I know. But it's ok."

His friend blinked. "…What…?"

"It's ok," Roy repeated, still smiling sardonically. "I'd rather have her hate my guts then be wasting away after me. Maybe if I'm really lucky she'll move on to someone else. Then at least she'll be happy."

"'Move on to someone else...!?'" Hughes gaped at the colonel. "Please tell me I'm hearing things! Move on to someone else?! How the heck will that make things better?"

"Simple math, Hughes. Roy plus Hawkeye equals total and complete misery. Hawkeye plus some other guy equals happiness on her part. Something's better then nothing, right?"

"Are you out of your mind!? You honestly think Riza forgetting about you will fix everything? What about you?! You'll still be miserable!"

"Yeah, well…" Roy shrugged. "Maybe I deserve to be miserable."

"And maybe you don't." Hughes rubbed his temples. "Dammit, don't you think you've beaten yourself up for what happened in Ishbal long enough? You're not a god, Roy, you're human. Humans screw up. Humans make mistakes. You can't keep trying to drive yourself insane because of what you did. You don't deserve that any more then the rest of us!"

"It's easy for you to say, Hughes. You…" Roy turned and looked out the window, seeing but not seeing the crowds going about their daily lives on the streets below. "You weren't there. The things I did…"

Faceless creatures tearing at the walls, at themselves, trying to escape from the fire that surrounds them. In times of war, people are not people, they are animals, inferior beings that do not deserve the life God has given them. These are the lessons the military teaches its soldiers…they feed their men lines carefully created and sweetened with saccharine reasoning, and as if by magic the guilt that is war's bridegroom fades away…

The enemy does not deserve life. The enemy does not deserve peace or happiness or that sweet, cool freedom that comes from taking a breath not filled with burning ash. It's a truth created by the military, but it's still a truth, and it's all Roy Mustang has to hold onto as he goes about his job. His job is not to teach or to heal or to create, his job is to destroy, and he cannot do it as long as he believes that the frantic souls trying to escape him are humans. So he tells himself that it's perfectly fine to regurgitate the answers crafted by his superiors. Who would expect anything less?

But his mind simply refuses to believe the doctrine everyone else seems to accept without skipping a beat, no matter what ill-conceived mantra spills from his tongue. (Whenever he can—so much so that he's created a reputation for vanity--he looks into mirrors to see if that particular body part's become forked; he feels like some sort of low-crawling snake, so why shouldn't he expect his appearance to look the same?)

Mirrors aren't his only bane. Roy cannot keep himself from staring into the terrified red irises of a frightened Ishbalan child without wondering why he is doing what he is doing. He cannot imagine these people as animals….

…until the day he snaps his fingers and a building full of frightened people becomes a burning cage crammed with panicked animals trying to endure. He stands in horrified amazement as people trample their relatives, friends, loved ones, in an effort to escape. He watches as the soldiers (his allies!) shoot those who somehow manage to dodge the flames and make it out. He watches as a little girl stands crying and alone, and as everyone else pushes past her in their effort to survive. He watches the grin of the soldier next to him as he takes careful aim into the already-crumbling building. He stands, and he watches, and by the end of the day, he no longer has trouble believing people are animals.

(Still….to him, the enemy is not the only sadistic one; the men on his side are just as inhumane. He is just as inhumane. He has caused this chaos, and he is the vicious, bloodthirsty animal.)

Faceless creatures trying to escape from the death that surrounds them…but everything's fair in death and war, so who bothers to care…?

"You don't know the things I did, Hughes."

"You had to. It was a war, you were under orders."

"No, Maes." Roy looked back at his friend. He no longer sounded angry, or upset, or bitter…just sad. Just very tired, and very sad. "I can't hide under that excuse. If I was really a good person, I would have refused. I would have deserted, or something…"

"And thrown away your life?"

"It was the right thing to do. I didn't do it."

"Neither did a lot of people, Roy."

"Doesn't matter." Roy couldn't meet Hughes's eyes anymore. "Hughes, I…"

'You killed him?'

Roy stares down in horror at the crumpled body lying at his feet, its blood soaking into the earth.

'Why'd you kill him?'

I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to…

'You were under orders not to use force unless extremely necessary. Besides, this kid's barely ten years old.'

I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to…

'Some of the other men say he tripped and you got startled. That true?'

He tripped, he tripped….in actuality, Roy hadn't been startled, not too badly anyway. He managed to get a hold of himself quickly but he still pulled the trigger…something in him wanted to see the Ishbalan die…the savage beast that lurks in everyone reared its ugly head.

'Eh, don't worry about it, shit happens. What's one Ishbalan, anyway?'

I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to…I didn't mean to…I…

…God…!

" Roy." Hughes sounded sympathetic, but firm none the less. "Stop it. Stop acting as if you're the only one who ever got scared, or who ever killed someone that didn't deserve to die."

"You don't get it, Maes. You can't get it! You weren't there…"

"No, I wasn't. But Hawkeye was, and she still cares about you. She doesn't blame you for what happened."

"Well, she should. I don't understand why she doesn't."

Hughes let out a frustrated sigh. "Because. She loves you, Roy! You know that as well as I do, you're just too busy feeling sorry for yourself to do anything about it. And you're wrong, by the way, if you think she'd ever find some other guy and live happily ever after. She's gonna stick by you even if she is suffering inside. You're making things worse."

"Fine," Roy snapped. "I'm making everything worse. That's okay, I'm used to it by now!"

"Come on, Mustang, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying I think you're making a huge mistake—"

"I don't care what you think!" Roy whirled around, knocking papers off his desk so that they wafted around him. "I don't give a damn what you think! Who the hell are you to give me advice! Look at you! Perfect fucking wife, perfect fucking kid, perfect fucking everything. My life isn't so damn perfect! You go home every day to an adoring family, come to work and drag their pictures with you. You think anyone gives a fuck about them besides you?! I'm glad for you, you got lucky. You got to sit at a goddamn desk and file fucking papers during the war. You don't wake up every night to an empty house! You have a bad day—you dream about everyone you killed coming back for you, then fine, Gracia's there to make it all better. Not me, though, I get something better then a wife. I get to go to the bathroom and pop sleeping pills!"

There was silence. Roy slumped down into his chair and buried his head in his arms. Hughes stood stiffly in front of him, rare anger twisting his features.

"Oh, god damn it…" The colonel groaned, wearily. "I'm sorry, Maes. I didn't mean that. I don't know where that came from."

"…Eh, it's ok." Hughes gave him a friendly smile, and Roy felt his heart leap at his best friend's quick forgiveness. "You've been dealing with a lot of shit, lately, and besides…Gracia and Elysia are perfect! I don't blame you for being jealous!"

Roy gave a weak chuckle. "Good old Hughes….seriously though, I'm sorry."

"Forget it. Romance does weird things to people. I know it sure screwed with me, why, after my first date with Gracia, I was so out of it I wandered into some random woman's house and woke up the next morning with a bunch of cops staring at me!"

Roy, having heard this story many, many times—usually when both he and Hughes were drunk—snorted.

"It wasn't funny! The lady thought I was trying to rob her, and the cops thought I was on drugs! Of course, I was on something….I was on that miraculous high that only the greatest woman in the world could bring! I was on cloud nine, I was in heaven, I was—"

"Hughes."

"Yes?"

"Shut up now."

Riza stood against the wall outside the colonel's office, waiting for him and Hughes to finish up. Dull embarrassment was still coursing through her system, however well she hid it. The colonel had always discussed everything of importance with her, whether it be about a top-secret case or the Elric Brothers' search for the Philosopher's Stone. Secretly, it'd always been a matter of pride for Riza, that he'd always trusted her to that degree. But if that was a fact….if he really did trust her…then why had he, for all intents and purposes, just kicked her out of his office?

She sighed. She was tired of worrying so much about all of this. She was tired of feeling so damn vulnerable. She had cried—in front of Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, no less. That in itself was enough to drive her crazy! And then it had happened again, in front of the colonel! Luckily, she was pretty sure he'd assumed it was the rain. Riza really cursed the day she'd ever been so stupid as to fall in love with Roy Mustang; look at all the trouble she was causing. She should have known better anyway. Roy was a notorious flirt, why had she bothered to think she'd be able to change that?

Riza wondered idly what time it was. She didn't like wasting time at work, not when there was so much of it. She was so stupid…she was even letting this whole mess come between her and her job. Supporting the colonel is infinitely more important then whatever personal problems I may be having, she told herself for the hundredth time. His goal of becoming leader of this country and fixing its problems should be my first and only concern.

God, how many times had she thought that? She knew that she shouldn't be wasting time on such trivial matters as an--illegal--office romance…or at least her mind knew it. Her heart was having trouble catching up.

Really, though, she mused, after Friday I should have been able to come to terms with it all. Riza was still smarting from that encounter with the colonel and his date. Of course, she had no official opinion of the Flame Alchemist's choice…(although, unofficially, she wanted to put a bullet in her skull). But, never mind the annoyingness of the girl herself; just the fact that she was the kind of girl Roy Mustang was interested in spelled doom for whatever hopes she'd still had after that afternoon. Riza was not the kind of person to delude herself for a moment's relief. She knew better then to be so short-sighted. And she also knew that if that blond bimbo was the type of girl Roy wanted, then he did not want her.

The differences between the two were enormous, to put it lightly. The Date had been attractive in a slutty sort of way, immaculately dressed, and wore so much makeup it looked like she was wearing a mask. Her clothes had been perfectly spotless and dry—even in the rain. (Which, irritatingly enough, had yet to let up). It annoyed Riza that the other girl would be so self-centered as to allow the colonel to get soaked…it annoyed her even more that the colonel, who she knew hated the rain with a passion, hadn't said anything.

Personal grievances aside, Riza had to admit that she was nothing like The Date Roy had been so infatuated with. During their little encounter, she'd been dripping wet, frustrated, and attempting to wipe the gluey mud off her hands and knees. (A second ago she'd been trying to coax Hayate out of that damn bush, with minimal results.) Her clothes were certainly not designer; she wouldn't have wasted her money even if her salary allowed for such frivolousness. She wore no makeup and no jewelry—the latter got in the way of her shooting, and the former just irritated her. And personality-wise, she was the exact opposite of The Date. She wasn't loud, rude, pushy, or demanding…which she'd always considered a good thing, but…

But it was a shame that seemed to be the exact opposite of what Roy wanted. He seemed to desire a 'delicate, feminine beauty', not a gun-toting first lieutenant who was known for the decidedly unfeminine talent of being able to shoot a man clean through the heart from several feet away--without even looking. Not that she lamented having that ability, but.…it was a shame she wasn't more like the type of girl Roy was taken with…

Dammit! This was so stupid. Why was she wasting her time comparing herself to someone else? What good could that possibly do?

Hearing footsteps, Riza glanced over to see Lieutenant Havoc rushing down the hall towards her, clutching a large folder crammed with papers in his hands. She closed her eyes for a second, steeling herself for a day that promised to be nothing if not trying. Then she turned to face Havoc.

I'll just take it one step at a time, she decided, determined to not lose her composer again. If Roy wanted to waste his time with idiots like that ditz, then fine.

There was absolutely nothing she could do about it anyway…and either she was going to finally accept that…or she was going to lose her mind trying.

AN- man, roy dropped the f-bomb about 50 times in this chapter...like i said, chapter 8 has action in it...Havoc's bringing some intresting news. what does it mean for roy, riza, and their already-screwed up relationship? i'll let ya know after i write it ;; unfortunatly, from now on there'll be a lot of gaps in between posts...at the very least, i wont be posting every day anymore. but o well. i named this chapter Separate Ways 'cause i kinda see it as roy n riza both trying to move past the romance, albeit in rather stressful ways. whether or not they stay apart remains to be seen, heh heh...

...you know you're not normal when you find yourself sitting at the computer typing away...in full ninja gear, complete with a mask, sword, and daggers. whaaat, i just got back from a haloween party! XD

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EDIT 12/21/06-- Not much to say. Fixed some stuff, left some stuff, winced at the stupidity of my author's notes...heh. OOCness overwhelms as usual.