Storming down the hall after leaving the office, Colonel Roy Mustang was a different man, glaring straight ahead as if he could burn whoever lay in his path alive with just a glance. Ever since he listened to Breda's little piece of office gossip, he couldn't get the nasty image from his head no matter how hard he tried. It only served to feed his anger. Armstrong flirting with Riza, his Riza. Wait, since when did she become his Riza? The possessiveness of that thought didn't strike him as odd, and neither did his mounting anger. She was one of his officers, she was his. How could he just-? Before he knew it, Roy had run up the back stairwell of Headquarters to the roof. Alone, the Flame Alchemist let out a long frustrated roar, scaring away the pigeons roosting there. It was followed by a long stream of curses as he dropped the books tucked under his arm, nearly throwing them away. His fingers clicked every few seconds in his anger, letting off a fireball that flew up with a small poof. Somehow venting the fire felt good, as if it was steam rather than flames he was letting off. Eventually, he stopped completely, sliding down against the door back into the building. In his exhaustion, a realization settled into Roy as his raging emotions simmered down to a low boil. He was acting jealous. "Fucking shit," he scowled, squinting his eyes shut and covering them with his hands, "I am jealous."

But why would he be jealous of someone else flirting with Riza Hawkeye, his First Lieutenant?

That was one question Roy didn't want to know the answer to. He started to pick himself up. He couldn't let this get to him now, maybe after today, when he didn't have to win a bet against her. Groaning, he picked up the books and went back down the stairs. He could stick to the plan, talk to her, and maybe smooth everything over, then worry about why he was jealous later. This was all given that the plan didn't blow up his in his face either. Walking across the lobby, Roy spotted Maes waving at him, but he didn't stop except to throw him a glare. Later, much later, he might forgive the Lieutenant Colonel for shoving this piece of advice he was taking into his hands, but not now.

The sunlight was bright as Roy walked out into the midday sun of late summer. The steps were covered in a sea of blue uniforms, some going up and down, in and out of the building; but most of them were lounging on the stonework with food containers in all shapes and sizes. The end of the stifling heat always seemed to inspire most of the military to eat outdoors. With nowhere else to go besides the mess hall with the standard issue food, the steps ended up being the place to eat. Spotting the Lieutenant wasn't hard as her legs were the only bare ones in the crowd. The many glances towards her from the other officers were also a dead giveaway. She sat perched on the base of one the stone statues flanking the steps, one foot tucked demurely behind the other with her high-heeled shoes off and fallen to the ground. He started to walk towards her, ducking around the people busy eating or talking.

She didn't notice him at all, idly munching on a cold turkey sandwich between handfuls of miniature pretzels packaged in the small tins she used to carry her food. Riza never did like the cafeteria food except for drinks, probably because she could make her own lunch better than they could if she had the time. It also felt good to be outside when the weather was nice, and not cramped up in the office. Her stocking feet kicked at the stone behind her heels, wincing as one of the bruises on her sole flared in pain. It also felt good to get out of those damned shoes. "I'm never wearing heels to work again, along with this skirt," Riza muttered to herself, unaware of the shadow falling across her.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Lieutenant," said a voice from over her shoulder as she jumped, nearly losing her seat on the stone.

"Sir! Ummmm . . . what are you doing here?" she asked, startled and nervous while swallowing hard on the lump of sandwich in her throat. Roy grinned at her reaction, part of him enjoying the shade of red on her face. Before he realized what he was doing, he crouched down next to her, eyeing the small pile of food and metal containers between them to avoid looking at her, "I was using my break to head over to the Second Branch Library to drop off some books."

"Ummm, did you want me to do that for you, sir?" Riza asked as she stared at him, confused, as he seemed more interested in her lunch than in their conversation, "Or were you just hungry?"

Roy looked up to see a small smirk on her face, making him grin in return even if he suddenly felt foolish. "No, it's alright, I don't feel too hungry right now, just needed a walk outside for a little."

The smirk turned into a smile on her lips, as he couldn't help looking into her brown eyes. He always did like the color of them, like milk chocolate with flecks of gold. Suddenly, he found himself smiling too much. Riza looked away, and he remembered again why he was there all along, "If you're done eating, there's a set new books that Scieszka asked me to pick up and bring to her in the First Branch, I . . . would appreciate the help."

Roy stood back up, trying not to curse himself for making it a request and not an order. He had to be going soft, that was it. And yet, Riza didn't seem to notice as she nodded, starting to pack up what little was left of her lunch, "Of course, sir, just give me a moment."

Quickly, the metal tins and the bag they came in were tucked into the small black bag that she usually carried to and from the office. She dropped off the statue's base and slipped on her shoes, bending over to adjust them while precariously balanced steadily on one heel. Roy watched with an amused grin. He always did like watching women move like that to fix their shoes, the odd balancing act so seemingly graceful and ungainly at the same time. It had to be a miracle of feminine creation that they moved unconsciously like that. Even in action, Roy remembered Hawkeye being just as graceful with her guns, even if it was more a visceral than lyrical grace. He caught himself on that last thought, blinking rapidly to clear the tangent from his head. Now was not the time to lose his focus as he rubbed one of his eyes with the back of his hand. Riza glanced back, a little confused when he didn't move now that she was ready, "Sir?"

"Right, Second Branch Library," he muttered, hurrying down the steps while she filed in behind him. She always did manage to keep the perfect distance of two paces away from him whenever they walked together, something that never struck him as odd or bothering before. But as they crossed the courtyard in front of Headquarters and made their way onto the sidewalks of Central, the formalness was getting to him. And she was being silent as well. "Lieutenant," he started to say before deciding to drop decorum all together, "Riza, we're out of the office now, you don't have to walk that far away from me. I don't bite and am not contagious."

"Sorry, sir," she said as he heard her heels pick up the pace a little. Roy glanced over to see her standing next to his shoulder, her coat flapping open behind her in the breeze as the automobiles passed them. It was hard not to notice the differences in her uniform this close, which once again reminded of why he invited her along in the first place. Why did the bet keep slipping from his mind now after it plagued him all night and all morning? The dark haired man looked away before he could let his eyes linger on her too long, admitting to something else that was getting to him, "You also don't have to call me sir for now, I have a name too."

"Right . . . Roy," Riza said, standing a little taller beside him, probably thanks to the heels. "If I may ask . . . and not to seem ungrateful, but is there a reason you're interrupting my lunch with this task? I was under the impression you didn't like my company today."

"Whatever gave you that idea? Just because there's a wager going on between us doesn't mean we can't speak," he said with his usual smirk, grateful for the opening, "And if you're still famished, I know a café not far from here you might like."

"Um, no thank you, I was finishing when you showed up, but that doesn't answer my question. Given that the fulfillment of the wager, being that you must admit to giving up your miniskirt policy, dictates a discussion between us, it would have been in your advantage to, well, avoid me for the rest of the day," Riza said with a smirk of her own, "Not that such a thing is entirely possible, you've never been able to avoid me for long."

She had a point there. When she had fresh sheets of forms ready to be signed, Riza Hawkeye was entirely unavoidable. Clearing his throat to suppress a chuckle, Roy said, "Even in battles there is a necessity to parley with the enemy on occasion, so, perhaps, we can come to a conclusion of this whole fiasco before it interrupts the entire chain of command."

"A conclusion? Does that mean you'll freely give up the miniskirt policy if you become Fuhrer?" she asked. It was worth shot. He was acting weird as it was, and the signs of chinks in his armor were clear this morning in his stares. It was so typical of him to go soft over women and clothing, a fact she'd been banking on when she made the bet. But, maybe she was wrong. His grin noticeably lessened, "Sorry to disappoint you, but, I haven't been entirely convinced yet that it's in the interest of the department to not review dress codes if and when I take office."

His answer brought a snort of laughter from Riza, "If and when are big maybes, Colonel. Becoming Fuhrer is a big ambition as well as a great responsibility, one most of Central already knows you wish to achieve, along with your reputation. Maybe that's why you haven't gained any promotions recently."

"Last I checked, I wasn't due to be eligible for the review board for a few more months," Roy said, trying not to scowl. He didn't like the direction this was going at all. She didn't need to subtly remind him why he was doing all this in the first place, and how he was failing at it little by little. And what did she mean by his reputation anyway? Her smile brightened a moment as he felt something clench in his chest, suddenly nervous at the look on her face, "You were eligible as of two months ago."

"Doesn't mean anything."

"Well, it's not like your antics are helping any to advance your career."

"All the more reason we should just cancel this bet," Roy blurted out, finally, even if it was said far too quickly. He heard Riza's heels stop clicking on the stone sidewalk, which made him stop as well, turning towards her. When the shock melted away, there was defiance in her brown eyes, a fire he didn't see too often in her outside of combat. Just that look made his reasons die in his throat. Apparently, it mattered more to her than he thought, but why? It was just some stupid bet over a hypothetical question, wasn't it? Maybe he could still convince her though. His words died again as the fire in her eyes turned into mischief, a smug grin spreading over her face, "What's the matter? Worried I might win?"

Roy's dark eyes hardened, definitely not pleased with the way the conversation was going, "You haven't been able to change my mind yet."

"The day isn't over yet," Riza said as she started to walk past him, holding her head a little higher in the air. There was something about the way she moved that calmed his anger, his eyes following her before his feet caught up. As the crossed the street, he noticed another man passing them. From the turning of the guy's head, the Colonel could tell that he was looking at more than Hawkeye's face. Something clenched in his heart again, a small flare of jealousy that he quickly smothered before it drove him irate like before. Jealousy. It was almost a foreign word to him. He'd never been jealous over a woman before, least of all the attention she garnered from other men. And as she smiled back at the stranger, turning to follow him with her eyes, Roy realized he'd never been jealous of another man either. For some odd reason, he wished Riza had smiled at him like that, her eyes lighting up with thinly veiled interest. Now why would he want her to do that? Another mystery to another thought he didn't want to explore, least of all today.

Walking backwards in front of the Colonel, the Lieutenant caught Mustang's glare at her. There was something in his eyes that made her smile falter into curious surprise, hollowness in the dark depths tinged with fire. Why in the world would he be looking at her like that? Only it wasn't as if he was looking at her, but through her, too caught up in his head to realize he'd been staring. It made her move closer in front of him, carefully watching her steps while coyly tucking her hands behind her back. He didn't even notice, still staring at where she was. "Is something wrong, sir?" She asked, her curiosity invading her voice.

As soon as Roy's eyes focused, he noticed where she had moved and flinched, embarrassment written all over the slight blush in his cheeks. It made her grin. He was showing the cracks in his armor again, until he smirked back at her. "Nothing, Lieutenant," he said as the smirk widened into a grin, "But do keep the fraternization to a minimum until we're off-duty."

"I wasn't fraternizing, I was smiling. I doubt it's against the rules to be polite," she said with her own matching grin, "Besides, it isn't against the rules to fraternize either with the general public or even other officers, just with the non-commissioned ones."

Roy blinked, "Really? How do you know?"

"It was in the handbook from basic officer training. I'm surprised you didn't memorize it," Riza explained as she turned around again, dropping back to walk by his side. Walking next to him, she had no idea of the can of worms she had just unleashed, probably because he was staring ahead and not at her as his thoughts flew behind his eyes. How could he miss that little bit of information? No wonder there were some teams of state alchemists in the field that were married. He was sure he knew a few couples in Headquarters as well, even if they kept it under wraps. It was making sense now. So . . . did that mean suddenly all the women that worked around him were up for grabs? No wonder Havoc flirted so much with the female officers but avoided Scieszka, she was non-commissioned and still a Private. No wonder Armstrong tried to ask Riza to lunch too. Another pang of jealousy flared in his heart at that thought, and he knew he was surely losing it. Roy had to know, if only for the sake of his sanity, "If that's so, then why didn't you take up Major Armstrong's invitation to lunch? It would have gotten you out of library book detail."

Riza laughed, grinning as she glanced over her shoulder at him before laughing harder. Something in what he said was obviously hilarious to her, a part he didn't get, and it confused the hell out of him, "What?"

"Roy, really, are we talking about the same man here? What would make you think I'd accept a lunch invitation from 'Armstrong' of all people? He's so . . ." Riza said once her fit of laughter was over before stopping, her face scrunched up into a look of distaste.

"Muscular?" Roy offered, suppressing a smirk, "Secure in his manhood?"

"Not my choice in men, and embarrassing, even if he is better at his job sometimes than you," Riza grinned at him as she answered, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she turned his questioning around. "Really though, why should it be any concern of yours on whom I have lunch with?"

"It isn't," he lied through his teeth, thankfully keeping the jealousy nipping at him out of the expression on his face, "I was merely curious after Breda brought it up."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing you don't already know."

"What's that suppose to mean? That's not an answer at all," Riza asked, glaring as he was obviously avoiding the question, "What am I going to do? Shoot him for spreading office gossip?"

Roy snorted in laughter, "I wouldn't put it past you. You always did have a knack for going for your guns first when it came to office politics."

"And you always had a knack for starting fires instead of trying diplomatic solutions," she retorted, pointedly ignoring looking at him, "I've gotten very good at putting them out for you."

"Then how about instead of arguing, and prolonging this fight, we come to one of your diplomatic solutions of the matter between us, eh?" Roy offered, thankfully bringing back up want he wanted to talk about before they digressed any longer. It wasn't like her to wander off subjects this long, always possessing a dogged determination to get her point across, which made the whole of the discussion that much more unsettling to him. For once, Roy felt like he was nagging her, and not vice versa. Riza looked at him, the fire back in her eyes, before staring ahead again. "No, I won't let you win so easily, as you said, the matter is between us, and it will not be me to resolve it until I've had the chance to change your mind. I mean really, you've been almost beside yourself today, Roy, and so has every other man that's crossed my path. Could you imagine that effect multiplied by a third and happening everyday?"

"Yes, once I get used to it, it might even be pleasant to see on a daily basis," he said, wondering himself if that was the truth, a half-truth, or a bald-faced lie. It felt like a lie on his lips. He'd never get used to seeing her like this. And part of him didn't want to share the sight of her stocking covered legs either. Those little pangs of jealousy were going to be the death of him until he squashed it, he just knew it. Riza frowned, letting her fists clench as her cool demeanor cracked a little. "Is ogling other women all you think about? You really can be a bastard sometimes, you know that," she said more as fact than a question, the hurt intruding in her voice.

Roy winced and cursed himself as she picked up her pace to move away from him. Not thinking, he grabbed the blonde's shoulder to stop her before she was out of reach. Riza whirled on him, ready for a public argument, at least until her shoe heel slipped over a crack in the pavement. Her balance wasn't helped when someone on the busy sidewalk shoved her forward on their way past while she was turned. Off-balance, she leaned towards the Colonel with a startled cry, quickly falling over. He cursed out loud and dropped the books to grab her before she fell. The Lieutenant staggered and landed against his chest, both of them pressed together as his arms clasped her close to him. For a long moment, all Riza could think about was how dark his eyes really were as she looked up into them, solid glossy blackness like obsidian. The only thing she could see in his eyes was her own startled expression reflected back at her in their glassy surface. That was, before the reflection was broken as he closed his eyes.

Roy's mouth dropped open, his mouth dry when he tried to talk. There was something about holding Hawkeye in his arms that seemed as frightening as it was wondrous. Maybe, it was something about the way she looked into his eyes that made him forget about everything but her. Slowly, all those thoughts about her he'd been pushing aside since Breda's misplaced gossip came rushing back. Jealousy, possessiveness, lust, and something else. That unknown something else was very frightening the more it lingered in his head. Roy's eyes slid closed as he tried to get a grip on his emotions before they shattered his long held mask completely. His hands moved from clasping her to him to grip her shoulders instead, slowly pushing her away as she found her footing. His eyes opened again as she finally spoke, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said, almost reluctantly as he could see a slight blush over her cheeks. It must have been the sun as the day suddenly felt warmer to him too. Fucking shit, he was losing it. Roy bent over to grab the books scattered on the pavement before they got trampled on. Riza crouched down next to him, silently grabbing a few as well. "I take it back," she said softly after a few long moments filled with only the quiet between them.

"Take what back?" he asked, probably sounding dumb to her.

"You have your moments when you're not a complete bastard," she admitted as he stared at her, almost numb with shock, "No matter what Edward Elric thinks of you."

"Huh, you've been listening to that brat too much. Sometimes I think I coddle them both, him and his brother," Roy admitted, letting the moment pass as if he never held her, "But, then again, he has his times when he's not quite a kid or a brat."

"Much like you, sir," she beamed at him, and he could almost hear her teasing laughter hidden behind her brown eyes rather than in her voice. The dark-haired man snorted in his own bout of self-aware laughter. Maes was right about her, she was one heck of distraction, even if he was beginning to like being distracted. This talk was going so far beyond what he had thought to achieve, past the bet, past even their normal office-bound niceties. Maybe he should have admitted defeat, while he was still sane, but his pride still wouldn't let him surrender, not yet. He never should have let her goad him into this bet in the first place. "You know, I don't understand why you won't just let this go," he grumbled as he picked up the last book, standing back up. "You of all people should know how stubborn I can be."

Riza's good mood evaporated as soon as the words were out of his mouth and hanging in the air. She stood up, adjusting her skirt and pushing away the dirt while holding the armful of books. "I thought that would be obvious, sir, given your talents with women," she retorted, not bothering to hide the look of loathing on her face, "Do you even remember what you said?"

"Vaguely?" Roy asked, suddenly nervous. What had he said again that kicked off this powder keg? Shit, something about not noticing her in a skirt? Suddenly, her fingers were itching for a gun, and as he was slowly remembering, he was itching to duck for cover. Maybe that wasn't the brightest thing to say about a woman who was obviously prideful about her appearance. "I'm sorry?" he offered, noticing the slight twitch in her arms as she walked.

"You're sorry? Now of all times? It took you this long to figure out exactly what you said, didn't it?" Riza asked, her voice dripping with disdain as her eyes rolled, "You know, even if I don't win this bet, if it teaches you at least a little about tact around women you're not actively seducing, I think I'd die happy."

"You know, I'm not that much of a screw up. I've gotten this far in my career even if there's still a long way to go, which is quite an accomplishment given everything that's happened," he grumbled, breaking off for a long moment as she didn't answer him before continuing, "So I slipped up, it was a small joke after all . . ."

"It was a joke at my expense in front of the whole office. You couldn't have painted me as more invisible short of dipping me in camouflage," she said, snarky in her exaggeration, "I may be tolerant of every other little annoying thing you do, but I draw the line at being the butt of your cracks on the opposite sex."

"So . . . this is what it's all about then?" Roy asked as his voice dropped dangerously low, "You think you're invisible, that I don't notice you?"

She blinked, but made no otherwise noticeable reaction to his question. So what if he guessed right? He'd shaken her pride with his unwitting insult, and her pride wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of an answer, at least, not a truthful answer anyway. "No," she answered, the lie heavy on her tongue, "I just am not letting you get away with your antics this time. Someone has to stand up to challenge your ideas before your own idiotic policies get the better of you."

This time, it was Roy who blinked. Riza had protected him in the past, but he never thought she carried her guardianship to the extent of protecting him from himself before. Her devotion seemed to run deeper than he realized, more than he deserved probably. He didn't feel worthy of such loyalty at all. If he were a better person, maybe it wouldn't feel so bad. Then again, maybe her opinion would change if she knew what he had done, but maybe not. Either way, there was only one thing he could say for everything she'd done for him, or would do in the future. "Thank you," he said softly, not looking at her as the words spilled from his mouth, "Even if I may not act like I appreciate it, or need it all the time, thank you . . . just in case I forget to mention it."

He grinned as a confused look spread across her face. Eventually her confusion dissolved with a smile as they turned the corner, rapidly coming up towards the library. "You're welcome," Riza said as she threw him a cat-like grin, her brown eyes half-lidded, "But you're not off the hook yet, and the day's long from being over."

"It that a threat or a promise?" he asked as he grinned as well. There was something about her eyes that made his heart beat a little easier, letting up on the tight grip with which he'd held it in check. That was until she actually giggled, walking past him as her eyes rolled upwards. Suddenly, he felt nervous and elated at the same time to hear her laugh so easily. She glanced back at him from over her shoulder, "That, Roy, is up to you to decide."

Why did she tell him that? If he didn't know better, he would have thought Riza was teasing him. For all he knew, she was teasing him. The whole conversation plagued him now that they had run out of things to say, leaving her words rattling around his head. They had chatted idly on the way back, the whole war almost forgotten, but now it had fallen into an uneasy silence. After dropping off the books at the Second Branch Library, they picked up the second load, and had walked them over to Scieszka's small, and overcrowded, desk in the First Branch only to find it deserted. They decided to wait until she came back from lunch, but it also left them alone together for longer than he wanted. Somewhere between all the walking and the waiting, his original plans to convince Riza to drop the bet got left in the dust. After arguing with her, then catching her before she fell to hold her in his arms, and then back to arguing, he had realized just how little he appreciated her. Winning a lousy bet was suddenly the least of Roy Mustang's problems.

Something was wrong, and he could feel it the more her words went through his head. Well, maybe not wrong, just different. It was a difference he didn't like as it kept bringing up that frightening unknown feeling hanging over his head. It wouldn't have been so bad if he could have at least heard more of her voice and words to distract him from it. Apparently, talking more was not what she wanted as she stared off into other parts of the office removed from the main library hall. Riza leaned casually against one side of the desk that was nearest to Scieszka's, the books resting on her hip as her arm kept them from slipping down. Roy had been staring at her legs instead of the floor while he kept his head down, watching her like a hawk the whole time they waited. The more he looked, the more he had to admit that she held true to her threat. While she wasn't tall, her legs were long in proportion and the heels only exaggerated it. For the briefest of moments, Roy idly wondered what her legs would feel like if he touched them, before he snapped himself out of it. That thought alone crossed too many boundaries between them, and he knew it. And yet, as his eyes slowly drifted up over the rest of her figure, he started to wonder if some boundaries were meant to be crossed. "You know, you do look nice today, Riza," he muttered before he could stop himself, wincing as soon as he said it.

Her head snapped towards him, brown eyes blinking until she caught where his glance was. A grin spread over her lips as she spoke, a teasing lilt to her voice, "Why thank you, Roy, but make sure you look all you want now, tonight I plan to burn this skirt so I'll never have to wear it again," she winced and kicked off one of her heels, stretching her toes, "Along with these heels. If you put in policy regarding footwear, you're dead."

"I'll keep that in mind . . . but is does look nice on you, didn't I say that already? I meant it," Roy said as he looked away, scratching the back of his head to keep from twitching in embarrassment. That was about as smooth as taking sandpaper to silk. He was losing his touch. Why was he complimenting her anyway? Riza noticed that as well, still grinning as she slipped her shoe back on. All the cracks in the carefully built armor he kept around his life were showing, making her wonder just how much of his act was real, and how much was a lie. The compliment felt like the truth. He was obviously embarrassed to have said it. If there was one thing she rarely saw Roy as, it was embarrassed when complimenting a woman. Somehow, his little admission was even more endearing than Al's. "Thank you, sir," she said as he slowly turned his head back towards her, "I already knew you meant it since you didn't call me gorgeous or anything, just nice."

Roy matched her grin, feeling better about the now seemingly small confession. "For me to call you gorgeous would do you an injustice, Hawkeye. You don't need my misguided opinions on feminine beauty to tell you when a mirror will suffice."

To see his Lieutenant's mouth drop open in shock was worth the price of making a lousy bet. Another boundary was crossed. He knew he was flirting, only this time he kind of meant it. She blinked at him, unsure of how to take the flattery. It was certainly honest, to an extent. He did have misguided opinions on women, just not on beauty. Slowly, an insidious feeling twisted in her mind over his words, blinking more as she realized that flattery was flirting as well as sincere. This was about the first time he hit on her and meant it. That thought alone brought down an avalanche of realization, the dawning of an understanding. He . . . liked her, in the more than merely platonic partners and just friends sense.

That was crazy talk, right? Roy couldn't like her that way, could he? It seemed a completely foreign idea until she started to put the pieces of their conversation together along with his actions that morning. Of course he was lecherous enough to stare at her, that was a given, but when he teased her about flirting with that stranger, then asked why she didn't eat lunch with Armstrong, and now this. His sudden interest in her social life, and his focus on her appearance could only mean one thing. He really did like her and was jealous. Suddenly it all made sense as he grinned at her, something shining in the darkness of his eyes. She looked away, fighting down a growing blush as she rebelled against the notion that he was taken with her. First of all she wasn't his type. She was too smart for him that was certain. She was also too aggressive, a trait he probably didn't like; all the women he dated were meek things more in awe of him than anything else. Secondly, she knew him too well. Even if he did try to charm her, it wouldn't work . . . unless he meant it. That was the part that undid the Lieutenant's logical rationale. If he really, really, was interested in her, and meant every word of it, he would be very hard to resist. For all she knew, he was acting again, like he did with those other women. But did he mean it? She had to know.

At least it was a good line anyway. Riza's grin turned into a small, slightly hopeful smile, before she sobered up completely, "I suppose I should thank you then, again, sir, but there probably isn't a need to."

"You're welcome . . . I think," Roy said as it was now his turn to be confused, "Why do you think that?"

"Because this isn't the first time you've complimented me on my appearance along with other things. Except you just never meant them before," she said pointedly looked away, as if she was ignoring him. Roy looked scandalized, her implications all the worse since she was partially correct. While he hadn't meant it all the other times he had jokingly flirted with her, in retrospect, he . . . did mean them too. He was lying then, but now it was the truth, was it still lying? And how the hell could she tell if he meant them or not? Looking rather nervous, Roy glanced away again, fumbling for an answer until it struck him. A smile slowly crept onto his face, the nervous look disappearing, "Well, if I didn't mean them before, maybe it was because I didn't think you'd accept my compliments."

"Why would you think that?" Riza asked as she blinked before suddenly realizing it was a trap as the Colonel grinned.

"Because I didn't think you would be interested in me before."

Her cheeks went scarlet as her mouth dropped open again. Roy grinned, her reaction enough to tell him his guess was true. But, as soon as she saw his grin, Riza's brown eyes hardened in anger, "Don't be absurd, I have no interest in you whatsoever."

To emphasize her point, she slammed the books in her arms on the desk she had been leaning against. It also covered her wince. She knew she was lying, again. "Then why did you blush?" he asked so innocently that it only goaded her anger more.

"Because instead of being flattered by you arrogant assumption, I'm rather insulted by it," Riza said, dripping her voice in held back anger to keep it from wavering. Damn, she was lying again. In reality, she was shocked as hell since she didn't even know she was interested in him. She was supposed to be questioning him anyway, not fending him off. This called for retaliation. She looked him in the eyes, moving a little closer towards the Colonel. "Maybe it's you who's interested in me? I mean you did compliment me, and you haven't been able to keep your greedy eyes off of my legs. I'm rather offended," she countered, grinning on the last statement.

This time it was Roy's turn to blush, if only slightly, "Well, how could anyone not notice you while you're parading around in that short skirt and killing your feet in those heels?"

"Isn't that the whole point of our bet?"

"Yes, but maybe I do like the idea of you wearing that stuff for me," Roy said before he realized what he said. Shit, he meant 'because of me', it just didn't come out of his mouth like that. Riza gasped, and he knew it was too late to take it back. And yet, instead of getting offended, like he figured, or going for her guns, like he feared, a smirk slowly trudged up her lips once the shock wore off. "I knew it . . ." she muttered before grinning, "I was right."

"Don't be absurd," he said, suddenly wishing that wasn't what he said at all, "I, um, we only work together, I would never do anything to-."

"Oh really?" Riza asked as she moved closer, standing easily in reach of his arms, "Then why did you say that?"

Something snapped in Mustang in that instant, something he wished he could have squashed before the argument had reached this point. There was a small stab of pain around her that hurt ever since she got assigned right into his life. But now, today of all days, it not only hurt like someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed, but it also turned his head till he finally really noticed her. There was a dark, fiery look in Roy's eyes, and momentarily, the blonde's determination shook. Before she could escape, his hand latched onto her arm, pulling her closer until she was pressed against him. Face to face with one another and touching in too many places to be just friendly, Riza Hawkeye was stunned to speechlessness. Her lips parted, sucking in a deep breath. Roy didn't move either. Both of them had been riveted to the spot, until his head lowered slightly towards hers as if she was drawing him in. "Maybe I just can't help myself anymore," he said finally, his voice as dark and sultry as his eyes.

"Colonel?" asked a quiet voice across the room, coming from the doorway.

Roy quickly let the Lieutenant go, and she stepped back just as fast. Scieszka looked at them both from the door, her eyes as big as her glasses. Unsure if she should be angry at or thankful to the Private, Riza kept emotion from her face as she casually tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, "Ah, must have been a good lunch to be gone so long."

A delighted grin spread over the brown-haired young woman's face, "It's ok. I can come back later."

Suddenly, both the Colonel and the Lieutenant had a good reason to blush.

This was torture. She was torturing him for coming onto her. There was no other explanation for it. After his confession, and the near kiss in Scieszka's office, Riza went back to keeping two steps behind him. She also seemed to forget his name and only remembered his rank over her. He'd never been more frustrated at her calling him 'sir' than he was on that walk back to Headquarters. The elevator ride was also just as bad, even if it was more dependent on his lousy luck than on her avoiding him. After the lift emptied onto the second floor, he just about attacked, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around before she knew what was happening. There it was again, that spark as he lowered his head towards her, about to kiss her. Then the bell rung and the doors opened onto the third floor. Riza had slipped out of his grasp and into the hallway. The two officers waiting entered the elevator, blocking his way out as the doors slid closed again. When he came back into the office, she was already at her desk, going over papers as the others looked up to watch them. He didn't even get to ask her why she had run, but he could assume what her reason was. Of all the women for him to come on too strong to, it had to be Riza Hawkeye.

She was torturing him, ever so slowly, just by sitting at her desk.

Whether or not she realized it, she lazily wrote on the papers while her skirt left enough to his lingering imagination that it wandered into places that he didn't like. Her chair was turned toward his door with her coat thrown over the back, as was usual in the afternoon when he wasn't doing anything but paperwork. It was so she could keep her eyes on him, to know he was actually working and not napping. Like he could concentrate on work or sleep right now anyway. Every time he looked up at her crossed, stocking-covered legs and took mere glances at the black lace lingerie underneath, he felt his blood pulse strongly. In a blessing of luck or one of its cruel tricks, her legs parted enough that he could dimly make out even more black lace. So that was what she wore under there. It took all his willpower to look away and look busy when she looked towards him. She was no longer just a hell of a distraction, he was just in hell.

The longer the afternoon dragged on, the more he realized that he was not just jealous and not just lusting after her. It was both, and something more, something that still frightened him to think about. If it was just one or the other, he could have handled it, but not both. And the something else only made him more crazed to sate what he was feeling. And that jolt when he came close to kissing her only confirmed it, not once, but twice. He wanted her, to hold her again, to kiss her, to feel her, to know her, to touch those legs, to keep her by his side whenever he could; and the part that scared him the most was that didn't think he could ever stop wanting her once he was allowed that much. What the hell was coming over him? Once he did that . . . she'd want the same in return, and more, but could he give that much?

All women wanted that, love, which was probably why he went through so many. Once they realized he would never really love them in return, or that he didn't want them any more, or that they didn't want him, they were gone. It didn't matter to Roy. He didn't care if they stayed or went. But with Riza, he would probably always care. Damn, he was losing it. Damn her, damn the bet, damn the feeling clenching in his heart, and damn those fucking sparks! And damn himself for touching her. The blonde looked up again, catching his eyes moving over her, his thoughts betrayed in them. He figured she'd probably seen right through him as her gaze softened. He looked down quickly before his traitorous stare caused more problems, quickly signing the form in front of him without reading it. He then noticed it was the form to give Havoc three days leave for some stupid reason. To meet some woman visiting Jean, he thought it was. Damn, he didn't want to sign that until the last minute, just to torture him a little.

Roy groaned, and then heard a slight giggle from out in the office. He looked up to see that Riza was at least amused by his pain, her lips quirked in a small smile to hide a knowing grin. Sighing, he moved the paper to the far side of his desk, not wanting to see it anymore. The Colonel was half standing up and bending over to make sure it was far, far away when he heard her heels on the floor rapidly entering his office as he froze and looked up. She closed the door behind her and Roy sat back down, almost falling into the chair as it rolled back. Riza looked at him curiously, "I'm not interrupting anything, sir, am I?"

"No . . ." he said, wanting to say more until his mouth ran dry. She didn't move except to take one step towards the right side of his desk. "I just wanted to pick up some of the finished papers so I can have them filed before the end of the day," Riza explained before taking another step closer.

"That's fine," he said, sinking back in his chair. There went hoping that she came in here for something unprofessional in nature. He kept the disappointment off of his face well except that his eyes fell a little. Riza's eyes drifted from Mustang to his desk as she gave an irritated sigh. "So typical," she muttered before walking to his side, "You always were so unorganized with your papers, I shouldn't have to be your maid too."

Roy grinned as she started to clean up his desk, "But I don't mind at all."

Her head whipped around to glare at him as she bent over slightly to reach for a piece of paper, a smirk on her lips, "Of course you wouldn't, why didn't I think of that?"

He gave a small chuckle as her brown eyes rolled upwards. After that, she ignored his presence completely as she shuffled the signed papers scattered all over into a single pile. She probably would have been out of his hair for the rest of the day after that, the arguments and temptation forgotten and the bet lost, if she would have just chosen a different pair of cursed shoes. And all to grab the last signed paper, the one he had strategically placed as far away as possible. In a move that spoke volumes in lack of forethought, Riza bent over the desk to reach it, balancing on one leg as the other stretched back. Her heel slipped out from under her when she bent too far, falling with a startled shout. Before she could get far, she felt a hand on the back of her hip and another pull at her waist. The papers in her hands went flying as her downward movement stopped in a sudden jarring, but unusually soft, landing. She felt a warm breath tingle her ear, "Those shoes really are dangerous."

Her pale skin went red as she realized that she was sitting in Roy's lap, his arms around her waist and legs. So that was why she felt something on her thigh. "Damnit," she cursed, trying not to shudder or stammer, "All the more reason not to change the dress code."

"Riza . . ." he said almost threateningly but softly, his hand gripping her leg through the skirt more firmly, "Let's not start that again."

She shifted in his grasp, trying to escape it while she could, "Um, sir, I'm fine now, you can let go."

"I do have a name," he said softly into her ear, making it burn with flushed heat, "You could try saying it once in a while."

"Roy . . . Colonel," she said, pouring every amount of resistance she could into her voice, "Let go."

Riza felt his hand on her leg slide down a moment, past the blue fabric to touch her stocking-covered skin. She tried not to gasp, but couldn't help drawing in a sharp breath at his fingers. And then, his hands were gone, lifting away from her body. He had let her go. She slid off his lap and onto her feet again before he changed his mind, or before she changed hers.

Just about to turn away from him to pick up the fallen papers, she suddenly stopped, nearly falling again as he touched her leg. It was just a finger on the inside of her knee, but it was enough to stop her in her tracks. She stood there frozen as his finger drew a line up higher on her stocking while his thumb joined in to trace the back seam. Why was she just standing there? She should have been fighting him off, right? If this were any other day, Riza probably would have a gun pressed to his head by now. Yet, somewhere during the walk to the library, her realization that he wanted her, those near kisses, and now this, her resistance to the idea of Roy Mustang had crumpled, and now shattered completely. Maybe she should have let him kiss her, and then she would have known if the shock of just his hands were lust, or something more. It didn't matter now as his hand reached under her skirt and glided past the top of the thin hose to touch skin. A sharp moan squelched in her dry throat, she bent over slightly and braced herself on the desk, helpless to resist. Traitorously, she unconsciously took a half step away, her legs opening to the intruding touch.

She heard the chair turn behind her and felt a tug on her skirt. He must have taken her lack of fighting or pulling away as a sign of want, something she wasn't about to deny either. God help her, she wanted him to touch her. His fingers felt so close now, the anticipation making the burn more intense. Cool air rushed over Riza's skin as he lifted the short garment over her ass, making her jump in the suddenness. The chair squeaked in protest, and she knew he was standing over her now. A shiver ran down her spin as Roy leaned against her, pressing a kiss just above the collar of her black turtleneck, soft, just like she always imagined he kissed other women. He groaned into her ear as she felt his fingers run up the back of her black lace garters, stopping when he reached the matching panties. Tracing the material down the curve of her rear made the Lieutenant bend over until she was sprawled across the desk, moving in his grasp eagerly the closer he came to touching her where she wanted it. When he finally did, Riza Hawkeye was lost, shuddering as he pressed the fabric into her folds. She moaned.

As soon as the sound was out of her mouth, everything happened at once. Ever since the first touch, Roy had desperately clung to going slow out of fear of her reaction. When she let him touch her, liked it, and didn't shoot him, holding back anymore seemed idiotic. Pulling his hands away, he swept her knees and feet out from under her, flipping her prone body over and hauling her towards the center of the desk. Papers, pens, and other items clattered to the floor, but he didn't care. As soon as she was directly in front of him, Mustang shoved his hand down the front of her underwear, feeling her heat and wet flesh quivering as she moaned again before biting down on her lips. His fingers curled, parting the delicate skin as she tried to grind herself against him. She gasped when they slid into her, brown eyes wide then closing. Brushing his thumb over her clit, Riza gave a sharp cry before it died on her lips.

Just the sound of her voice made him want to silence her mouth with his as he moved between her legs, wrenching them apart. The heat under the layers of his uniform was unbearable as her thighs tried to close around his hips. Roy felt her hands grab at his jacket collar, pulling him down on top of her as he tried to resist, intent on the movement of his hand over her center instead. Apparently she had other ideas. Using him as leverage, she pulled herself up until their lips met, lightly. He could feel the blonde teasing him as she backed off just when he got a taste of her. All it did was drive him with a need to consume her. All those little sparks added up to undoing his control. His hand became relentless in finding her secrets, to make her as wild as he felt. He'd never let a woman get to him this badly before, his other arm shaking with desire as he braced himself against the desk, letting her tug on his clothes incessantly. Riza's body arched as she moaned again as his fingers furrowed deeper, a sound that needed to be silenced before the whole damned office knew. Before the moan could turn into a scream, he kissed her.

Roy Mustang had lost.

That was a good description for finally kissing Hawkeye like he wanted. If he died then and there in her arms, it would have made a fitting epitaph. Roy had lost, felt lost, and was just plain lost in her lips and burning mouth as it opened to him. She was allowing his tongue to ravage her as much as his hands were, and it was as gratifying as just holding her. Even the last vestiges of coherent thoughts were lost. It was replaced with a consuming need to be even closer to her, driven by those damned sparks again. She must have felt it too. She probably wouldn't have let him get this far if she hadn't. As Riza nibbled on his lips, sucking on them lightly, he knew just touching her wasn't enough.

His fingers abandoned their pursuit, pulling out so that he could wrap his arms over her curves. Her legs tightened over his waist, both of them dimly aware of the clunk of her shoes hitting the floor. Somehow, it didn't bother them. They were too intent on exploring each other's mouths. In the midst of all the heat coursing through his veins, Mustang became aware of the painful clenching in his heart. Each beat drummed through his ears, rising above all the wonderful sounds Riza made deep in her throat. He was also acutely aware of the exactly how tight his pants and boxers were when her hips pressed into him, causing him to groan into her mouth.

She nearly tore his blue jacket open in her haste, and had half of his white collared-shirt and undershirt pulled out before he grabbed her wrists. The blonde fought against Roy as he pushed her down and pinned her arms, still connected at their lips and pressed together at the hips. Clothes didn't seemed to matter as Riza writhed under him, tearing her lips away to give a whimpering cry before burying it in his neck. He felt the same way, desperate to alleviate the hardness he felt. What did he feel? All he could feel at the moment was the woman devoted to him grinding her hips into his, and it felt like heaven or hell. But what was she to him if they continued like this? His subordinate, his confidant, his companion, his friend, his lover? Did he love her?

Oh God, he did love her.

Reason snapped back into Roy's head over the rush of desire, making him spring off of Riza's body. The dark-haired man took one staggering step back and collapsed into his chair. She didn't move from where she laid on the desk, too stunned from the loss to move. That was . . . unexpected. Slowly, she recovered and sat up, biting her lips to keep from groaning at the unfulfilled ache between her legs. The Colonel was still in his chair, brooding with his elbows on his knees and his hands clench under his chin until they were bone-white. He didn't even look up at her, his dark eyes fixed on the floor. After the heat of his kisses, his touch, his body, the coldness in his look felt as if she'd been plunged in ice. Remembering what had happened only moments ago made the look all the more painful. Riza opened her mouth after working up her courage, but her jaw snapped shut as he raised his hand, "Don't . . ."

Her heart sunk a little at his words, just knowing whatever he said next were words she didn't want to hear. "I'm sorry, Riza, I shouldn't have touched you," he said, his voice hollow, even if there was a conflict on emotion across the rest of his features, "This was a mistake."

Anger lit up in the pit of her stomach, not wanting to believe him, "This was a mistake? That's all you can say? But what-?"

Roy's eyes flashed up at her and she could read the emotion dominating them, stopping her voice. Fear. Her anger died slowly, replaced by sympathy for him and curiosity as to what could make the Colonel afraid. Still perched on his desk, she slowly reached out to touch his cheek. He let her slide her hand over his skin, the comfort seeping into him as the mask slipped away. Maybe she would understand him. Maybe she would feel the same. He wished that she did as he nuzzled her palm. He was so afraid of letting her know, of what she'd say. "What are you afraid of, Roy?" she asked so innocently that it shook him from his revelry.

He couldn't let her in this easily. He was too afraid of letting her see himself.

His hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her hand. When she reached for him with the other, the dark-haired man pushed her back until her arms wer pinned to her own chest. The soft expressions were gone in her eyes, replaced with anger again as she struggled to break free. He seemed to snap when she pushed against him, the fire in his eyes rising as well as his fear. It was no use trying to hide it now. "I am afraid that I don't know myself anymore," Roy admitted as his mask crumbled completely.

She fought harder until he had to stand up and push her back down on the desk so that she was pinned completely. They were both panting, and still fighting, if only more weakly, until he growled between clenched teeth, "I'm afraid that I'm not the nice person everyone thinks I am."

The dark voice with which he said those last words made Riza finally stop. He shut his eyes hard until his whole face scrunched together, pain shaking down his arms into hers, "I don't know which parts are truly me anymore, and which parts are the mask. I never wanted this. I never wanted to be someone else, someone everyone looked up to. I am not a hero. All I only ever wanted was to make a difference, to pay for the things I've done, and I am no where even close to earning back that redemption. I don't deserve selfless devotion from anyone, especially from you. I don't deserve to touch you for what I've done. I won't let you try to change my mind, and I won't make the same mistake again. It's over, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry . . . but this was my mistake."

Roy seemed to wind down, exhaling with a slight groan. His hands fell away as he collapsed back into the chair, leaving the blonde lying on the desk again. It took her a few moments to absorb the confession, playing it back in her head as she slowly sat up once more. He was back to brooding, but this time his hands covered his face until all she could see was his mouth. Damn him if he thought she was this easily scared away. Who did he think she was? It went right to her pride that he'd think of her as someone that needed protection when it had always been the opposite between them before. Riza slid off the desk, her skirt still up around her waist. She gripped the edge of the wooden surface tightly, using it to keep her rising anger out of her voice, "How can you say that to me? Do you think that little of me or that much to put me on a pedestal?"

Slowly he looked up as her voice stuck in her throat. The bitterness and anger kept rising as the realization started to sink in that he had truly meant it, that it was over, just when she was started to think that she could . . . that she could love him. Staring back at him, her brown eyes glazed over with icy fire, burrowing into him, "Do not mistake me for one of your easy girlfriends, sir. I don't care what you think you deserve or what you think I deserve. I don't care what you think of yourself because I know you're better than your worst thoughts. I would have transferred out of this department long ago otherwise. How can you, after almost seven years, think that I would see the real you and run? I don't run, God, how can you believe such-?"

"Such what? Such truth? Face it, Riza, I'm never going to be a knight in shining armor for anyone, I'm not a hero-."

"Such bull shit!" she yelled in Roy's face, loud enough that the whole office probably knew they were fighting, "I care about you! We all care about you! Isn't that enough?! You are not the only person here that believes in what we do! We all believe in changing this place for the good! We all believe in you! I believe in you! I-"

She stopped, biting her lips as those words were on the tip of her tongue. As his hands lowered until his dark eyes could look at her hopefully, the words finally spilled, "I love you, you bastard, isn't that enough?"

For a brief moment, the hope in his eyes lit up until his heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. But, just as suddenly as that feeling bloomed, it withered slowly, bleeding away under the weight of his guilt. Roy lowered hands, the frown and his downcast eyes telling her enough. He didn't need to speak but he did anyway, twisting into her more painfully than a knife, "No, I'm sorry, but it isn't enough."

Riza lashed out in her grief and anger, the slap against his cheek resounding throughout the small room. Her hand stung but at least it was her hand. She quickly pulled her skirt back down and slipped her feet into her heels before storming across the room. Roy just sat there, numb, even to the slam of the door when she was gone. It was probably out of sheer stupidity that he did it, or his inclination to torture himself, or maybe it was just so hard to let it go and let himself be happy. But now, all he could think about at that moment wasn't himself, but her. It was for her own good he kept telling himself, maybe that would let him sleep that night. Self-sacrifice was a noble enough reason, even if it now made him feel like a liar. He was a hero, just a stupid, foolish one. He was a hero in love, and heroes always gave up the ones they loved for their own good, didn't they? He loved her. Despite the day from hell, he realized that he really, genuinely, loved her. And now she would be gone . . . What had he just done?

To Be Continued in Part 2 of A Betting Crowd, Cutting the Losses.