The swaying rhythm is in Riza's head before she knows it, a sultry pulse that cuts through the smoke in the bar and her own mild drunkenness. What surprises her even more is that it's Falman singing with the live band—not because his voice turns out to objectively be the best in their team, but because of the way the lyrics sound more heartfelt and emotional than they were perhaps originally intended.

No one could love you
the way I do
'cause they don't know how
to love you my way

There's wild, gleeful cheering at a table near the stage, with Breda and Havoc wondering loudly who Falman's lover is and if he has brought her as his date tonight. Riza can only barely make their voices out over the noise. The open stage night at Madame Christmas' has attracted a larger crowd than usual, so lively and loud that Riza has lost Rebecca out on the dance floor. The five or six bottles of malt she's had so far don't help her sense of direction or balance, and she swerves and stumbles as she pushes through the crowd—

"Pretty light on our feet, aren't we, Lieutenant?"

"Sir—"

Riza realizes that it's Roy before she regains steadiness, before she notices that he has caught her and that the grasp he has on her arms is far too tight to be proper. Then, she notices the scent in his breath, his flushed face, the heat radiating from his skin. She feels something else, too, behind the fabric of his trousers brushing against her thigh, the sort of thing she can't exactly point out as his subordinate, less so in this crowded, public room.

"I think you should get back to the table, Sir. You're drunk."

There's a hint of a chuckle in his voice. "I'm not the one who needs help staying on my feet."

Riza looks down to find her hands on Roy's chest, gripping the front of his shirt. She no longer needs to hold herself up with his help, and she should have released him by now, but she's swaying in time to the music, and his hands slide slowly to her sides as he does the same. He grins, amused, pleasantly surprised. Riza finds him easy to read even when they aren't sober. This is the consequence of knowing Roy as well as she does—knowing what he wants, and knowing just how desperately he wants even what he can't have.

Roy whispers, "You look wonderful."

Riza steps back quickly, as if she were suddenly reminded of where they are and who they are. His eyes, soft just a moment ago, turn bewildered. She's left breathless and red and more lightheaded than she was before running into him, which she quickly recovers from with a small laugh. "You clean up nicely yourself, Sir. Take it easy tonight, all right?"

"Lieutenant—"

She isn't sure what to make of the look he gives her as she turns away—or perhaps, while she still isn't truly far gone, she doesn't want to know what he has to say.

Rebecca is waiting at their table in the corner of the bar when Riza finally finds her way back.

"Oh my God, Riz, where have you been? I thought you got busy with someone!"

Riza grimaces as she takes her seat, ignoring the knowing, pointed tone Rebecca uses. "Sounds like I had a much better time in your head than I did out there. I wasn't gone that long, though."

"Take as long as you want as long as you're getting laid."

Before Riza can fire back, the band begins playing a new song, much more energetic than the last. The crowd begins to cheer. It's Rebecca's enthusiasm that alerts her to what is actually happening on the stage as Roy, Breda, and Havoc each take their place behind a microphone, clapping and stomping along to the drum beats and piano runs and gradually building brass.

They have the crowd dancing all the way to the back, with Rebecca moving to the rhythm in her seat, one arm around Riza. But Riza's lost in a space of her own making, or perhaps Roy's, as he never looks away from her while he sings or pops his collar or rolls up his sleeves for the performance. He engages the crowd fully along with Breda and Havoc, but he has the same earnest look in his eyes as he did when he and Riza danced together, speaking to her—

I might misunderstand—
what you got for me?

And Riza wonders why running into him hit her as strongly as what she's been drinking, why her judgment was so quick to slip that she allowed him to hold her the way he did on the dance floor. It isn't the first time that the way he acted around her has felt intimate—Riza feels it in the way he looks at her, the way he speaks to her, the way he walks with her even when he remains a step in front of her.

She wonders why she wants him, even though it comes as no surprise.

Almost as soon as the song is over, Riza finds herself sitting alone as Rebecca climbs up the stage. Havoc remains there, and only moments later, another song begins to play. It's slower and softer, a piano-backed duet that falls into the backdrop as the crowd goes on talking among themselves.

Riza sits back to enjoy their song. She's certain that this is only the first time they have sung together, despite a few other times that Rebecca joined her team for a night out in town and sang at open stages. She wouldn't have been able to tell either way. Rebecca and Havoc sound great together, her voice bright and clear, his smooth and light.

Wonder whose arms will hold you
good and tight
When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night

What she likes best about the song is that it's a conversation just as much as it is a piece of music. Riza has never paid much attention to the lyrics in this particular number, but she watches the exchange—an invitation to spend an evening together—naturally come to life in the way Rebecca and Havoc interact on the stage. At the same time, it's as relaxing as a lullaby, or perhaps it feels that way because for one fleeting moment, she imagines herself in a slow dance, sharing drinks for two by a fire. She thinks of New Year's Eve and how it's only a few days away, how it's best spent with someone dear to her—someone like Roy.

Now Riza's sure that she's more drunk than she thinks.

"Riza, come up here!"

It doesn't fully sink in that Riza is onstage with Rebecca until the first few thumping beats. Rebecca sings the first verse—the song is one of her favorites, one that Riza never imagined they would sing out in public and away from the privacy of their living rooms. The choreography comes easily to her nonetheless. They move in perfect sync, head to shoulders to arms to hips, never mind that they've never danced to this song in heels before, as the original performers did.

Riza takes up the next verse, surprising herself when she finds that she is singing with the same verve that this part of the song usually requires. It reminds her of why Rebecca likes the song so much. It's a provocative number, building from low and sultry to emotional and bold. Riza has always needed a drink or two to get into the right mood for it, and after having had as much as she has tonight, it's easy to perform in a bar full of strangers.

It's even easy to sing to Roy, catching his eye when she sings—

I'm trusting myself with you, I feel good

Past the first chorus, Riza is no longer thinking of the lyrics or the dance. She doesn't even mind the crowd swaying ecstatically right below the stage. She loses herself fully in the song, hitting notes high and low and harmonizing with Rebecca more easily than she ever has—and when the song ends, her heart is pulsing in exhilaration all throughout her body. All she wants is more of the rush that she felt doing it.

"Hey, piano man."

It's another song that Riza often enjoys with Rebecca—fast-paced dancing in heels and high vocal runs and all—but this time, Roy joins them at the piano to the side of the stage. What surprises Riza isn't the fact that he is familiar with the song, or that he agreed to play for them. It's the look they exchange when she calls him over, when he walks up, and when he takes his place on the bench. His eyes seem to say more than they usually do, or perhaps Riza just sees more in them than she usually does. She could blame the song, or how much she's had to drink, or it could simply be the dormant urge that she has fought around him not only tonight, but for the longest time.

Even as she performs, Riza can't help but be distracted by Roy's hands. They're swift and agile across the keys, gentle in a way that she never imagined them to be. She has never held his hands, but—she can admit this in her present state—she has wondered how they would feel on her body, how his fingers would fit inside her in lieu of her own. The thought fills her with a thrill to match what she has felt on the nights that she has imagined him in bed with her. Suddenly, her heart is pumping for reasons other than the high energy of the song.

When your fingers brush against the keys
I get bad thoughts

Roy is part of the dance just as much as he is there to play the piano. Riza takes on a rhythmic swing in her step as she makes her way to Roy, poses next to him on the bench for a couple of lines, and she feels him quiver when she briefly leans against him. Rocked by excitement of the moment and hardly thinking, Riza reaches for him, touches him for a fraction of a second that no one could have seen over at his side of the stage. He's much harder now than he was out on the dance floor.

Riza and Rebecca are met with thunderous applause when they leave the stage. Roy remains, rising from the piano bench to step up to a microphone for a solo performance. Riza is still out of breath when she takes her seat, perhaps even a little delirious, because what she sees when she watches Roy can only take place in her imagination.

The stage is dark, and Roy is illuminated with only a spotlight. When he looks up, his eyes meet Riza's, and his gaze is no longer just loaded with secret meaning. It's hungry. His eyes stay on her as he begins to sing over the slow, sparse instrumentation, and then as he begins to dance. Just as his voice is quiet, as if he were making a gentle plea, his movement is slow—arms poised this way in one moment, hips angled that way in the next.

We're a bit dangerous, you and me

The Roy in Riza's head approaches her seat slowly. He pulls off his tie, then slings it around her neck to pull her close. From this position, she can almost feel the heat of his body, but he moves back again just as she reaches out to touch him. The song goes on. This time, he undoes the buttons of his shirt one by one, and then he's close again—Roy straddles her just as he tears off his shirt, and he kisses her.

It's a deep, lingering kiss, and even in her imagination, Roy feels impossibly divine. He rocks his hips against her, hard and warm and throbbing. Riza moans as quietly as she can manage. Somehow, this is enough to build her up, and the feeling rises in her like a growing wave, and then—

She's back in the bar, hidden away in her table at the far corner as Roy's song ends. He's fully clothed as he descends the stage, and Riza isn't sure now if she had actually heard him sing what was in her head. What she does know for sure is how she had just spent the last three minutes. Riza pulls her fingers out from between her thighs, sinking in her seat and panting as she pulses with pleasure. It's a good thing Rebecca has wandered off to get drinks.

They aren't sure who's singing when they stalk off through the back door of the bar and into a dark alley. Hidden by tall buildings and dark shadows and empty crates, Roy and Riza stumble around until Riza's back hits a brick wall, and then they're kissing, unrestrained and greedy. He thrusts into her as his hand cups her breast, then he works his way past her blouse. When Roy breaks off from her lips, he kisses her breasts, and Riza tosses her head back with a whimper.

"Do you know how long I've wanted this?" Roy breathes when he resurfaces from her chest. He resumes kissing her, and after a moment he continues, "How badly I want you?"

"A-ah—"

His other hand wiggles underneath her skirt and her underwear and grips her bare ass tightly. "Your direct superior asked you a question, Lieutenant."

Riza swallows, then manages to look Roy in the eye. In the far-off glow of a flickering street lamp, his desperation is evident, but there is something else there too, something gentler—something that's begging to be laid bare and returned.

"I want you too," Riza whispers, shuddering. "I keep thinking of you—how I want you to— ah!"

She's cut off when he thrusts into her again, this time having parted her legs a little. Roy pins her hands over her head by the wrists and keeps going, kissing her again, until the ending notes of the song that had been playing when they left blare through the front door of the bar when it briefly opens, followed by some applause. It's far from where they are and they need not worry about being seen, but Riza is quick to smooth out her clothes and take Roy by the hand.

"Let's get out of here."

Roy is barely able to keep his hands off Riza even as she drives. His fingers wander over her legs, her waist, her neck, and perhaps it's part of the reason she has no idea where they are headed. Part of it is that she is hardly giving a thought to their destination. All she knows is that she wants to get lost with Roy, to hide in a corner of the world that is theirs alone if only for the few moments they have until the road runs out or dawn breaks, whichever comes first.

At last, when Riza feels that she has driven far enough from the city and she can no longer wait to have him, she pulls over at the side of a mountain road, overlooking what must be Central. She switches off the engine and immediately crawls over to Roy on his seat, where he greets her with a kiss before she has even sunk onto him.

Her tight skirt hitched up around her hips, her lace blouse torn open, Riza's senses are overwhelmed as Roy fills her up. This time, there's no crowd to be discreet around, no keeping their desire to themselves in dark corners. The car rocks with the rhythm of their bodies thrusting into each other, and the air is filled with moans and heavy breaths. She takes in as much of him as she can; he kisses every part of her that he can reach.

They twist and unravel and push and pull in every direction, in every way they know how. The lines they cannot cross are so far behind that they can no longer possibly exist in this moment. The distance they have kept from each other for so long is no longer bridged only by deeply meaningful stares or their complete, unspoken understanding of each other. Roy uses his mouth and his fingers to leave a different kind of fire from Riza's head to her toes, a kind that still only she could have taught him and that she has only ever wanted from him.

It ends only when they have drawn out every ounce of pleasure from each other, when there is nothing left in them but exhaustion and the peace of being in each other's arms. This is the part of their connection that runs beyond their long-burning physical desire. It keeps them in that parked car long after they are done, in some remote nothingness miles away from home. They fall asleep where they are, their clothes serving as blankets, forgetting or perhaps not caring that the everyday lives they will be returning to are vastly different from tonight. They sleep through the fading of the stars into the sky, the first rays of sun breaking out into the horizon, and the reality that comes with tomorrow.