Disclaimer: I own FMA. Seriously. And that's exactly why I'm writing FAN fiction.
Roy blinked several times and rubbed his head slowly, wondering exactly what'd he'd done to himself this time. "Head…hurts …pain…huh?"
It was at that moment that the bleary-eyed colonel realized that his loyal subordinate was staring at him, concern creasing her feminine features.
"Sir?"
He blinked again.
"Sir, are you alright?"
Roy yawned, stretching his legs out on the comfortable couch. "Ah…yes, I think so…if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"
The steely soldier avoided his gaze, hints of rose tinting her cheeks. "You must be hungry. I'll…um…er…make something." The blushing blonde strode off into the kitchen, leaving the colonel bewildered.
Roy sat there quietly, inhaling the sumptuous aromas wafting in from the kitchen. His brain currently functioned at the same level as a lump of clay, still reeling from the outrageous amount of alcohol he had downed. Wow…Riza's pretty when she's not in uniform…was she blushing? And, and…she stuttered…she never stutters…eh, I must have been hallucinating…Riza would never blush…but maybe…
"Sir? Your food…" Apparently Riza had returned, now holding a small hunk of bread and a bowl of minestrone soup.
The colonel snatched the meal, guzzling in the soup in three mighty gulps while simultaneously tearing at the bread ravenously. Between his frenzied attacks on the Italian cuisine, he declared, "Wow…you…cook…well." How one did this while chomping, slurping and swallowing rather noisily, Riza did not know. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing crumbs and tomato all over his once white alchemy gloves. Roy gave a sheepish smile, similar to one of a guilty schoolboy who hadn't yet completed his homework.
The corners of her mouth twitched, forming a slight smile against her own will. "Why, thank you, sir."
"It's Roy after hours."
Riza nodded. "Okay, sir…ah, Roy." She glanced over at the nearby chrome clock, noting the late hour.
A somewhat awkward silence ensued. Both were simply blank, with nothing whatsoever to talk about, absent of any of Roy's childish rhetoric or Riza's stern reprimands…not a single witty comment to break the disarming stillness.
"Well…I'd better get going…"
Riza turned to leave but felt a gloved hand grasp her forearm, causing their eyes to meet briefly.
"Could you stay for the night?" Genuine sincerity emanated from those coal black depths, inviting her to accept his proposition.
She smiled and settled herself next to her commanding officer. "Volume III, Act II, Verse 34-37 of the military guidelines state that downed soldiers are not to be left on the battlefield unassisted."
"Really n…"
Riza's lips met his in an innocent embrace, softly ending his chain of speech. They lingered there, content to enjoy the tranquil peace. His lips pressed harder against hers, passionate, intoxicating, and Riza hardly noticed when his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer. He nibbled on her bottom lip, awakening buried feelings that she never knew she possessed, urging her to continue, to banish any sort of discipline and logic from her mind.
To her disappointment, he pulled away, a peculiar expression fixed upon his face. "You wouldn't happen to have any firearms, would you?"
"However did you guess?" she smirked, unstrapping her trusty pistol from her hip and aiming it between his eyes. The click of the safety resonated throughout the room, a pealing bell signaling a possible execution in the near future. Apparently this chick was not only willing to make out with him, but as an added bonus, blow his brains to bits.
Roy moaned dismally and muttered under his breath, "Volume II, Act VII, Verse 5-9 states that military personnel are not permitted to use weapons out of hours unless dire circumstances are in place."
The blonde chuckled and placed the semi-automatic into its holster. "You actually read the military guidelines? I'm impressed."
"Well, what do expect from the future Furher?" he stated indignantly.
Riza placed her hand over his and sighed. "Your inflated ego will be the death of you someday."
He grinned and rested his head on her shoulder. "Yeah, but not today."
Silence descended upon the pair once again. Though this time, it was a comfortable silence. A silence where no words are physically uttered but they are said nonetheless. The kind of silence that is cherished more than a thousand spoken words.
"Riza?"
"Mmm?" Riza hummed, closing her eyes in mock slumber.
"What's your favourite colour?"
"Hmmm…I like all colours."
"You can't like all colours, there has to be one colour you admire more than others. What about the colour of your eyes?"
"No."
"The colour of your hair?"
"Nope."
Roy paused, his face clearly displaying his deep concentration. "Oh…I know! The colour of your uniform!"
"You know, you're acting like a toddler. And no, I don't think so."
Roy pouted slightly, feigning hurt. "I'm drunk. I'm allowed to act like whatever I want."
Riza inwardly smiled at his impossibly immature antics. "Mmm…I like jade."
"Jade? Jade as in green? You mean the colour of your t-shirt green?"
"Yes…that green."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"You have to know…you can't not know…there must be some reason…"
"Roy?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up and go to sleep."
"Make me."
"I'm warning you, I will not be held responsible for my actions."
"And that's a bad thing?"
"Considering that you will soon be a bloody carcass riddled with 9mm bullets, yes."
"Oh."
"Oh, indeed."
"Riza?"
"Mmm?"
"I think I'll shut up and go to sleep now."
For the love of God…I think I've finally cracked. I really don't know what happened in that last conversation, 'twas kinda stupid. I guess it sorta explains the title.
Yes, Roy is one weird drunk. Yes, they are OOC. And yes, I do suck at kissing scenes. Don't worry, this story will NOT turn into one of those "cute, fluffy" (not to mention pointless) stories that have nothing to do with the characters portrayed in the anime. Not that I have anything against those stories…it's just that I couldn't stand writing like that.
Oh well, I'm slightly tipsy, moving on…reviews would be nice. (giggles) (And yes, for those of you who are wondering what the hell is wrong with me, apparently its not a good idea to sneak your Dad's six-pack out in the middle of the night and scull it in three minutes. (groans) I am going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow…)
