Originally Published: May 20, 2021

Last Edited: April 6, 2022

A/N: Here's Chapter 19!

I'm going to start updating every other week instead of weekly. It was a mad dash to finish this chapter for today and I'd rather give quality chapters than feel like I'm just posting content that doesn't keep up to par with the rest of the story.

That being said, I think this chapter is decent. At least I hope it's good.

See you guys again in two weeks!

Chapter 19

Purpose

Thursday, September 26, 1918

Riza slid the key into the lock, pushing the door open and holding it for Roy as he silently stepped inside. Their visit with Chris hadn't lasted long before Roy announced he wanted to head home. Riza doubted he would have done the same if she wasn't going home with him.

"Do you want some tea?" she asked quietly, easing the door shut.

"No."

She hesitated, watching his back as he moved woodenly towards the stairs. Locking the door behind her, she slipped out of her heels, relieved to finally be free of the pinching. Her healed injury throbbed as she bent down to pick up her shoes, hesitating as she noted a patch of red and inflamed skin on the side of her right foot. What was that? Now that she thought about it, her foot had been itchy a lot since Marcoh had healed her. But could alchemy really cause irritation on an area of skin not even transmuted?

Straightening up, she followed after Roy, the light on in the master bedroom telling where he was at. He was peeling off his suit coat as she entered, staring distractedly at the broken window.

"Let's sleep in the guest bed," she prompted softly, a slight chill in the room from outside.

He tossed the suit coat into the hamper, prying his shoes off slowly. "Yeah."

At the sight, she opened up her purse, pulling out the damp, bundled up washcloth holding his soiled ignition glove. "Roy," she broached, tossing the bundle into the hamper. She wasn't sure if the glove was salvageable, but she'd try.

"Hmm?" was his only reply as he numbly tossed his pocket watch onto the bed, followed by his glasses and clean glove.

"I know you don't do a lot of Medical Alchemy, but can transmutations cause- rashes?" she offered the word as a filler, not certain it quite fit.

He looked at her as he shrugged his shoulder holster off, brows furrowed. "Not that I know of. Why?"

Tossing her shoes onto the bed, she sat down on the edge and lifted her leg. She tried to pull her knee back so she could rest her heel on the bed, but her skirt jerked her to a stop, too tight for the movement.

Roy smoothly caught her ankle instead, supporting her as he examined her foot. "Does it itch?" he asked, his cool thumb running across her skin soothingly. The cloud of worry and gloom over him seemed to lift as he focused on her, an intelligent spark to his eyes.

"A bit," she conceded.

"It's not even the transmuted skin. Is something wrong with your high hee... oh..." Looking up from the red skin, his eyes flickered up to her neck. With his free hand, he brushed her hair back over her shoulder, uncovering her scar. He hissed through his teeth, chilled fingers pressing against her scar. His cool touch offered a surprising relief, the skin hot and irritated as she fought the urge to scratch it.

Lifting a hand to brush the back of his, she met his troubled gaze. "It's not the transmutation. It's my fault," he muttered, pulling his hand back and peering at her scar. "I had shrimp at the Bar. Shit, I'm so damn careless."

Shrimp? Her mind returned to his desperate kisses in his aunt's bathroom, crying against her neck and kissing her foot. "I think there's anti-itch cream in the bathroom. We should get you washed up too. Is there anywhere else that's bothering you?"

She let him guide her to her feet, evaluating herself as he pulled her to the bathroom. Her foot ached with her injury and itched with her neck. Her empty stomach felt like a void now that she took the time to think about it and she was even more weary than she'd been at the hospital.

A hefty list, if she was honest with herself. She'd been ignoring her own needs while trying to help Roy. "No more itching, I'm just tired," she admitted, not eager to remind him she'd missed dinner- and lunch, and breakfast.

He stopped her in the middle of the bathroom, her toes sinking into the soft and warm bath mat. "Alright," he murmured, gently keeping a hand on her hip as he rounded her. He brushed her hair over her shoulder before tugging her zipper down. "I'm more in the mood for a bath, but we can take a shower if you'd like to get into bed sooner."

"I can bathe myself, Roy," she reminded warmly, shrugging her shoulders out of her sleeves, the fabric crumpling at her feet as he unclasped her bra.

He paused, a numb pressure added to her left shoulder blade and the scar there. "I know. I- I just feel dirty," he breathed, her ears pricking to catch his words from behind her. "And- Alphonse is right: I shouldn't be alone right now."

She turned to face him, his eyes lifting from where he'd been staring at her burn to meet her gaze. She gently grabbed the front of his shirt, silent as she unbuttoned the row holding his lapels together. Shrugging her bra off, she let it fall before pushing his shirt over his broad shoulders. His steady eyes watched her as she grabbed his belt, pulling it open.

"A bath is fine," she finally decided, popping his button and zipping his fly loose, her fingers accidentally brushing against his partial erection. She paused, hands on his waistband as she met his gaze again. "Roy..."

"I know," he whispered, briefly caressing her cheek. "Just- I promised myself I'd..." he trailed off before kneeling in front of her for a third time that day. A shiver ran up her spine as his hands slipped to her right thigh, fingers brushed the edge of her thigh holster before pulling the buckle loose and easing it down.

Her cheeks heated furiously as she bit back her instinctive protests, letting him lift her foot so he could slip the holster off completely. Discarding it absently, he dusted a kiss on her thigh before tensing.

"I'm a fucking idiot!" He jumped to his feet, snatching a washcloth from the counter and hastily soaking it in the sink.

Despite herself, she laughed, moving to his side and catching his wrists. "It's fine. You kissed me at the hospital and that hasn't aggravated," she reminded, running a pair of fingers over her forehead.

His eyes followed the movement as he relaxed. Ringing out the washcloth, he set it aside before grabbing his toothbrush. "Just to be safe," he murmured as he added toothpaste.

Kissing his firm bicep, she pulled back, her focus turning to the tub faucet. She started the water, adjusting the temperature before plugging the drain. Shaking her hands dry, she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her underwear, shimmying it down and pausing as she reached her knees.

There was blood.

Not a ton, or she would have noticed sooner, but enough to stain the fabric. She stared, starting to count quickly. 24 days. She was early. She was never early. For nearly twelve years she had consistently been 28 to 29 days every single cycle. Before that, malnutrition had left her sporadic as hell.

Was it the stress? The missed meals? The sex? A lot had changed in her life physically the last two weeks. It was completely possible her hormones were just changing.

"Are you alright?" Roy's voice surprised her, his damp hand dusting the small of her back. She straightened instantly, half tugging her underwear up her thighs, legs stepping together.

He'd taken his pants and boxers off, now naked beside her. His face had a fresh sheen to it, cleanly washed. "I'm fine," she answered carefully, turning to step out of her panties, wadding them up hastily. "My..." she cut off, measuring him as she straightened again.

He wanted a baby. After what had happened with Chris, was he really ready for this news? She wasn't sure she would be in his shoes.

Concern deepened across his expression as he stepped closer, lifting a hand to her forearm, holding her gently. "What is it?"

She dropped her gaze as her cheeks heated. "I'm sorry, Roy."

His grip tightened on her forearm, his other hand grabbing her bicep. "What is it?"

"My- period's started."

He was silent for a long moment before his hands slid down to hers, clutching the soiled underwear and gently taking it from her. She watched as he threw it into the sink dismissively before taking both of her hands in his. He pulled her closer, his proximity drawing her eyes to his again, a tenderness behind his gaze as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Well, that's that."

"You're not upset?"

He didn't answer immediately, his eyes shifting off of her as his gaze clouded in thought. "I... Yes, I want children. But more importantly, I want you to want them with me. The timing was bad anyways."

She sighed, dropping her gaze again. "I'm sorry it started tonight. I don't want to burden you more."

"Burden? It was a burden not knowing if you were pregnant or not. This is fine, my Queen. It's one less thing to worry about."

She nodded mutely, gently trying to pull from his grasp now they had established that. He didn't let go though, drawing her gaze again. "Where are you going, love? Aren't we taking a bath?"

"That's not very sanitary, Sir," she protested.

To her surprise, he smirked, if only briefly. "I wouldn't exactly call sex sanitary either and we've been doing plenty of that lately. Come," he took a guiding step towards the tub and, despite herself, she followed him. He stepped in first, keeping their hands entwined. He supported her as she stepped in with him, the hot water burning her sore foot, making her hiss as she stepped against him.

His arms wrapped around her waist, clinging slightly as he squeezed her close. "Too hot?"

"It's fine, I just have to adjust."

Turning back to the faucet, she shut off the water as he reluctantly let her go to sit down, scooting to the back of the tub. Easing herself down into his lap, the water that had been too hot for her feet felt perfect against her core body. She shifted, pulling closer and leaning against his chest with her shoulder blade, half turned towards him. Pressing her cheek against his pectoral, she sighed slowly, letting herself relax with the exhale.

He hesitated before wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her close. They settled into silence, the heat of the water and warmth of his body combining with her hunger, her lack of energy, and the late night, quickly making her eyes heavy. She wanted to just melt away, letting unconsciousness carry her to pleasant dreams- a luxury she was growing accustomed to, sleeping in his arms.

"She knew," his voice cracked with the words, jerking her from the edge of consciousness.

"What?" she lifted her head, looking at him in muddled confusion.

His obsidian irises focused on her, guilt crossing his face. "Sorry, I didn't know you were asleep."

She shook her head emphatically, using the denial to shake herself awake as she sat up, resting a hand on his chest for support. "No. What is it?"

He paused, visibly measuring her before answering. "Annette. She knew about the contraceptives. Vanessa wouldn't have let her know. She must have checked storage for what was missing after we left."

"Oh," she breathed, a chill running down her spine, contrasting the hot water unpleasantly.

"She also knew you were living here. I would expect she did her own recon for that information. When I challenged her, she teased that she had evidence, but didn't share what. She likely meant to keep it from me. She might have guessed I'd try to destroy it."

"Then..."

"If she was keeping it in her room," he started slowly, grabbing the washcloth and soap. He soaked and lathered the cloth before he lifted it to her neck, tenderly cleaning the itch on her scar, "Armstrong might find it in his investigation."

She shifted, moving to her knees and facing him. She ran her hands across his damp chest, their skin clinging together because of the water. "First, I regret nothing we've said or done since you had me come home with you." She stopped her hands on his shoulders, his taut muscle making a tightness grow between her legs. She did her best to dismiss her arousal as she continued, "Second, I don't believe the Colonel will report us. If he finds something, he'll come to us. The problem is if an MP or another officer finds any evidence."

He gave a single nod at that, carefully moving the cloth down, lathering first one breast, then the other. She watched him silently. There was nothing sexual about the act, but the touch was still exploratory and almost curious.

"We're compromised, Roy," she continued gently. "I think it's best if we tell Armstrong the truth. Otherwise he might dig too deep into the investigation and find out himself. Do you want to tell the whole Team as well?" she asked, trying not to focus on his touch.

His eyes shifted slightly, calculating as he lowered the washcloth back into the water. "No. I trust everyone- well, maybe not Vulcan yet, but everyone else. The problem is that the more people who know, the more at risk our position is. If it happens, it happens, but there's no reason for us to encourage it."

She nodded in agreement. "Sheska knows. She confirmed it at the party. I made sure she knew not to talk to Kain or anyone else. She also knows Rebecca and Jean are in on it."

"Alright," his eyes grew unfocused again, that haunted look returning.

She grimaced at the sight, shifting a hand to his jaw and gently lifting his gaze. "Roy. You can't blame yourself for what Annette did." She wanted to say more, but it bordered too closely on the suppressed anger bubbling in the back of her mind. She had to sort out her own feelings before bringing it up with him or it could turn into a fight. In his current state, she wasn't willing to risk that.

He nodded mutely, rubbing his forearms with the washcloth. His movement was deliberate, though his focus was elsewhere. She gently grabbed his forearms, stilling him. "Chris knew the danger. If she hadn't been there- you might not be with me anymore," she barely breathed the words, sadness and fear rippling through her. "I'm not like Gracia, Roy. I wouldn't have lasted an hour if that had happened. So- as horrible as it is, I'm grateful she took that bullet. She's not dead and she's in the careful care of medical professionals. She may have a rough recovery ahead, but if I know Christine Mustang, she won't let this kill her."

"That's easy to say..."

"I know it," she insisted, jabbing his brawny chest with her finger. "She'll come out of this and be at our wedding if she has to claw her way out of her grave!"

He blinked, startled by her ferocity. "Ri...?"

"She'll be alright, Roy. I..." he suddenly moved a hand to her hair, pulling her down for a deep kiss. His breath tasted minty from the toothpaste, his skin smelling soapy. Remembering he'd properly cleaned up just for her, she relaxed deeper into the water, leaning against him as she kissed him back.

It lacked the heat of passion, instead holding the warmth of intimacy. She sighed happily, digging her fingers into his shoulders as his arms wrapped back around her waist, pulling her closer.

He gently broke the kiss, Riza opening her eyes to find a hopeful warmth in his. "So, you will marry me?"

She blinked, thinking over her words. Her cheeks and ears heated as she realized exactly what she had said. "I expect a proper proposal sometime, but yes."

He gave a weak chuckle, a wet hand moving to brush her bangs out of her face. "Best birthday present," he whispered.

A warmth grew in her chest, a smile finding her briefly. "It's not really your birthday anymore," she corrected softly.

His gaze clouded again as he exhaled heavily, "Good. It was a bad one anyway."

She gave him a sympathetic grimace, brushing his bangs back. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more to make it better."

He scoffed, "You were one of the best parts."

To her surprise, his length stiffened against her hip, making her start slightly. Glancing down, she met his gaze again quickly, guilt tangling in her chest. "Roy, not tonight. You're not really in a healthy place."

He grimaced, releasing her as he looked away. "I know. I don't think I could keep it up for long anyways." In confirmation, the pressure against her hip lessened as quickly as it had come.

She sighed, another wave of weariness rushing through her as she relaxed. She stole the washcloth from the water, rinsing off her soapy skin. "I don't think I can stay awake much longer. Do you want me to stay with you, or is it alright if I go to bed?"

He hesitated, meeting her gaze for a long moment before shifting beneath her, muscles tensing. Sensing his intention, she quickly pulled back, standing up just before he did, both of their bodies streaming water as he reached for a pair of towels, handing one to her before climbing out and drying himself.

She followed, pausing to unplug the drain behind her.

"Might as well try to sleep in bed. Let's find that anti-itch cream," he murmured, wrapping his towel around his waist.

The hours dragged by, Roy left holding Riza in the foreign guest bed as she swiftly fell asleep. Their mostly naked bodies seemed so accustomed to each other now, though it had been less than two weeks since they'd begun the physical aspect of their relationship. She seemed to fit perfectly against his burned side. Her curled hair, damp at the ends from their bath, spilled across his chest as she lay her head on his shoulder, his arm acting as her pillow.

Unfortunately, her smooth and deep breathing didn't help him find rest any easier. The hall light gave sight to her delicate features, smooth from any emotion except for the occasional reaction to whatever lay in her dreams. They seemed more troubled than usual. Sure, she hummed, and sighed, and smiled, but just as often she frowned, or twitched, or furrowed her brow.

He tried to keep his mind in the moment. She was such a pleasure to have in his arms, he felt guilty as his thoughts strayed to more grim territory. Like Chris falling unconscious on the floor, her blood dripping onto the floorboards. Or his own reverberating voice as he cried for Hughes through the phone, worry gripping his heart at the lack of response. Or his pale, waxy looking father laying shirtless in a bed, his aunt gently pointing out the three bullet holes in his chest, squeezing Izumi's shoulder as she did.

"Love you both. See you in the morning." His mother's last words to him echoed through his mind. Her promise forever left unfulfilled.

He reached to brush Riza's soft, golden hair.

Her period had started.

All logic said that that was it, she wasn't pregnant. But he had this gut feeling he couldn't shake. A nagging in the back of his mind demanded that her body was wrong. Riza would become pregnant from this.

Was it just his desire for them to have a family?

If it happened now, he would lose his chance at becoming Fuhrer. So close, the position was ready for him as soon as Grumman retired, and he would lose it.

He didn't care.

Sure, there was more he could do by making Amestris a democracy, decreasing racial prejudice, and minimizing the power of the Military in citizen's lives. But, wasn't there always more one could do to make the world better?

He had done so much already. He'd helped purge the humonculi's grip from controlling the Military. He'd orchestrated the restoration of Ishval and gave its people more opportunities and independence. He'd helped his subordinates climb the ranks with him. He'd enabled the Elrics in their search for their real bodies.

Riza was his purpose now. She'd waited so long. Come hell and high water, he would cherish her the rest of his life.

But then there was Chris.

Would she be alright? Would she heal?

His mind swirled on and on, jumping from one thing to the next. Riza and Chris. Annette and Hughes. His parents and Izumi.

The gray light of dawn began peeking through the curtains in a familiar haze.

He had to check back on Chris. He had to make sure she was alright.

He carefully eased Riza's head onto a pillow, pulling away and climbing out of bed without waking her. He crossed to the master bedroom to find it frigid inside. Skin goosing, he dressed quickly in a simple set of slacks, a button up, and vest before slipping out of the room, heading downstairs.

As he entered the kitchen, his eyes caught on Hayate's food and water bowls. Where was he? Had someone like Fuery taken him home so Riza could focus on him? Guilt flooded him as he realized how long he'd gone without noticing the canine's absence.

A knock at the front door drew his attention to the front room. Who was coming by at this hour? Glancing out the window, he was fairly certain that the sun had yet to rise, making it somewhere between 0600 and 0700.

Back tracking, he absently adjusted the cuff of his sleeve as he moved to the door. Unfastening the bolt, he opened it to find a tired looking Havoc on his porch, wearing the same attire he'd worn at the party last night.

At the sight of him, Jean's lips curled in a half snarl as he held up a pair of manila envelopes. "Be glad I found these instead of some MP."

Roy's eyes flashed to the envelopes. "What's this?" he asked, reaching for them.

Havoc pulled them back, blue eyes narrowing. "We need to talk."

Roy hesitated. As he processed Havoc's foul mood, he settled on the likely cause. Grimacing, he stepped back, holding the door for his subordinate. "Elizabeth is sleeping," he cautioned as Jean stepped in.

Turning back to Jean, Roy closed and locked the door behind them. Jean scowled at him, crossing his arms and tucking the envelopes out of reach. "Now you care? Now she's here playing housewife? You're little fuck toy?" Jean made no effort to keep his voice low, his disapproval piercing.

"Don't refer to her like that," Roy growled, his lower eyelid twitching as his fists clenched. "And I've always cared. You don't understand the situation fully."

"I don't fucking care!" Jean snapped. "I don't care because you're acting like a bastard. Riza's given everything to you and you're off flirting with other women. You snuck into a prostitute's room in the middle of a party! You're disrespecting her in the one way that will absolutely hurt her the most."

"Jean..."

"First it was rejecting her all those years ago and dragging her around afterwards. Now you're together you can't even keep your hands and eyes solely on her. Do you know how fucked up that is? It makes me sick. She deserves better. So drop the playboy tendencies or I will use you for target practice, Sir," he spat, taking a step closer, his height and darkened features looming over Roy so he had to tilt his head to keep eye contact.

There was a tense silence, the stairs creaking to Roy's right. He didn't break away from Havoc, his skin prickling from his heightened senses.

"Well, Major?" Jean asked, not breaking away either.

"The brothel girls run an information network," Riza's voice cracked, not exactly weak, but hardly giving her full strength to the words. "And Annette..."

Jean broke eye contact from Roy, looking up the stairs. He held up the manila envelopes, "I think I have a pretty good idea what the whole incident with Miss Steiner was about. You might want to rethink your precautions, Ma'am."

With Havoc focused on Riza, Roy exhaled his built up tension. He turned his eyes to Ri as well, her blue pajamas appearing hastily donned, all her hair pulled over her left shoulder, the curls from last night having wilted and tangled. The dark circles under her eyes matched Havocs, leaving him to wonder how bad his own were. More importantly, he noticed the half shed tears clinging to her eyes.

"Is that the blackmail?" Riza asked, voice growing harder.

"Yeah. Pictures, negatives, and a receipt for some type of herbal tea," he explained briefly. "But forget about that, why are you still with this jackass?" he gestured dismissively at Roy over his shoulder.

"Tea? Does anyone else know?" she lighted down the stairs, Jean handing the envelopes over to her.

"Becky found one, I found the other. Riza, are you really letting him get away with cheating on you like this?"

She'd opened one of the tabs, pausing with Jean's insistence. Looking up, she met his eyes, expression hard. She lowered the envelopes, glancing briefly at Roy. "Captain, I thank you for your concern, but I ask that you let me pick when I fight my own battles."

"What...?" Havoc uttered, tension leaving him as his jaw slackened with disbelief.

She turned on them, Roy catching sight of some red ink poking above her collar. "I'm hungry. Are you staying for breakfast, Havoc?" she asked.

Roy lengthened his stride to catch up with her and as they rounded into the kitchen, he delicately pulled up her collar to hide the edge of the array. She tensed with the gesture, spinning to catch his wrist. They both froze, Riza meeting his gaze

Her grip loosened, letting him go. "Sorry," she whispered, eyes dropping to the envelopes. "I thought... Well, what's for breakfast?" she diverted, raising her voice with false bravado.

Her eyelashes were still wet.

Taking the manilas from her, he tossed them dismissively on the bar behind her. He gently grabbed her waist, pushing her back against the counter, a deliberate space between their hips. Startled, she blinked quickly, her cheeks softening with a light pink blush. "Roy?"

He let her go, plodding slightly in place as he widened his stance, hands slipping in his pockets. "I'm ready."

"What?"

"You've been angry about something since last night. I'm ready to hear it."

Her expression hardened, "I don't..."

"Is it the flirting? Vanessa was warning me about Annette. I know you said you understood the other day, but that doesn't mean you're alright with it," he pressed. He should have followed up on this then.

"That's not..."

"I can stop it if you want. Jean's right, you don't deserve to feel like my plaything."

"I don't feel that way," she inserted firmly. "Yes, I'm uncomfortable with the flirting, but Vanessa was doing more of it than you. She kept touching and clinging and..." demonstratively, she gently swatted his arm then hooked her elbow with the other, squeezing him briefly before she pulled away. "When you were flirting back, I didn't think you were doing it out of desire." The crinkle at the edge of her eyes told him that was a lie. She didn't pause as she continued, "And I think I instinctively understood it was about Annette the moment she showed up."

"I can talk to Vanessa. Ask her to not do that anymore," he offered, trying to keep his tone placating as he reached for her hand.

She pulled away, hugging herself as she looked towards the sink. "That's between me and her. Besides, it's not what I'm really upset about."

Roy hesitated, pulling his hand back. A silence separated them, heavy over the kitchen. He inhaled sharply as he opened his mouth, hovering on the edge of words before asking, "Will you tell me? So I can do better."

Riza ran her hands up her biceps, shoulders hunching as she glared at the floor, "I'm supposed to protect you. I'm supposed to watch your back. You asked me to. For years now, it's been my purpose."

"And you're very good at it. I probably would have gotten killed ten times over by now if it wasn't for you," he agreed, not certain why she was bringing this up.

"Then why was there a standing order to keep me out of incidents at the Bar?" she met his eyes with the question, a hurt behind her amber irises. "Why, Roy? My injury last night happened while Vanessa was trying to stop me from getting to you. I was fine with the idea of getting help. Chris was a good idea because she knew what was going on, but I'm the one who's supposed to protect you. I'm the one who should have taken that bullet!"

Blood spurted from her neck. The Fuhrer Candidate let her go as she took a weak breath. For the briefest second her eyes met his before she collapsed to the stone ground.

He stepped towards her, softly pushing his hand into her hair, brushing the hidden seam in her skin. There were tears on the edge of her eyes again and she was shaking imperceptibly.

"I wasn't there when your father beat you," he whispered, his other hand rising to catch the tear escaping her eye with the pad of his thumb. "I was late in getting to you when Kimblee had you pinned to the wall. I could do nothing but watch while your neck was sliced and you bled out before my eyes."

A silence followed his words, more tears sliding down her cheeks as he held her beautiful, chestnut gaze with his own. "I made the request after the Promised Day. I'm a selfish man, Riza. There's only one thing in this world that I want more than you." Her brows furrowed in confusion, a hint of betrayal in her eyes. "And that's to keep you safe."

He pulled back, guilt tangling in his chest. "I know that being close to me isn't always the safest place. I was trying to prevent unnecessary injury. It was selfish and I know you don't break orders unless you feel it's necessary. But Riza, what you said last night- it's true for me too. If you had been injured, I'd be inconsolable. If you had been killed- I'd follow soon after."

"But Sir, what about Amestris?"

"I mean, sure, I want Amestris to be better, but I want it better for you," he admitted weakly. "I don't think I'd be able to keep my focus on my goals if I lost..." his words halted as Hughes's winning smile flashed across his mind. "If I lost you too."

She sighed softly, stepping forward and burying her face against his chest. Her hands curled into the front of his vest and he pulled her closer into his arms. "You're right, that is selfish," she mumbled against him. "But I'm hardly one to judge."

He squeezed her frame more firmly against him. Remembering the instigator of the conversation, he glanced to his right to find Havoc watching them with a sober expression and an awkward stance.

Exhaling heavily, Roy pulled Riza back, "Well, I think Havoc is right. I shouldn't be flirting with others when I'm yours. I just have to tell Aunt Chrissy she's losing one of her best clients," he smirked, catching Riza's surprise. "And I'll tell them to get out of your way if something like this ever happens again. I'm grateful you weren't shot, but I'm sorry for not respecting you."

A gleam of gratitude entered her eyes and a soft smile tugged at her pretty, pink lips. A bubble of affection rose up in his chest. She was just so damn beautiful he ducked in, pressing a quick kiss to those perfect lips of hers. Pulling away just as quickly, he asked, "How do you like your eggs, Havoc?"

"Uh- I should get going. Armstrong wants us back in the office by 1300, and I'd like a few hours of sleep before then."

"Alright," Roy nodded, moving to the fridge and pulling out the carton of eggs.

"Wait, Havoc," Riza turned to face him. Checking back on them, he instantly noted her stoic demeanor, authority in her stance.

"Major?"

"Rebecca told me you're avoiding her," she announced, "I appreciate you trying to stand up for me, but that gives me every right to stand up for her. What are you doing?"

Jean cringed, digging his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders, and avoiding her gaze. "Look, part of it is you finding out about us, but- I don't know, we had a really good system in Ishval. I'm just worried if we get caught again, it will be by someone who won't keep it a secret."

Roy snorted as he grabbed the kettle, filling the reservoir with water. "Sounds like you value your replaceable job more than your irreplaceable woman."

"I- that's not true!" Jean protested.

"Roy," Riza chided.

Setting the kettle on the burner, Roy shrugged as he lined the basket with a filter before filling it with coffee grounds. Capping it off, he added the percolator to the reservoir. "That's what he gets for calling you my 'fuck toy'. He's getting off easy."

Adding the kettle's lid, he turned towards them again, Riza scowling at Havoc who was rubbing his neck bashfully. "Look, don't make the same mistake I did by putting your work before the woman you love. I wasted nine and a half years of my life on that shit."

Riza sighed, her shoulder dropping with the exhale. "Just- make it a priority to spend some intimate time with her this weekend. I promised her I'd get you to go over and I'd rather you do that willingly."

Jean exhaled loudly, tossing his head back, his Adam's apple protruding. "Looks like we're both shits to our women, eh Chief?"

"We're only shits if we don't fix it," Roy shrugged as a thunderous knock from the front door overlapped his words. All three of them looked in the direction before Roy stepped past Riza as she retreated further into the kitchen. He moved back to the door, sensing Havoc acting as a protective middleman between Riza and the intruder.

Unlocking the bolt again, Roy took a breath before opening the door. Above him, Armstrong's hulking figure overshadowed him, Alex looking tired as well. Like Jean, he hadn't changed from his party attire, the sleeves rolled up on his forearms to stay out of the way.

"General Mustang," he greeted, his tone softer than usual, surprise behind his eyes. "You're awake. Though, I suppose I would be too in your situation. I heard Madame Christmas's surgery went well."

"Yeah. They're a bit worried about her recovery, but..." he trailed off, not certain what he was going to say.

"May I have a word, Sir?" Armstrong prompted after a moment, thankfully diverting Roy from grimmer thoughts.

Roy hesitated. The thought of Riza in her pajamas when she should still be in her ripped dress caught him for a moment. But then, Riza had said they should tell Armstrong about their affair. He hadn't considered it yet and was unsure of the consequences- but he trusted her judgment.

Roy stepped back, opening the door wider for Armstrong to enter. "I needed a word with you myself. Havoc and Riza are here too."

Armstrong had bent down to step through the doorway, but froze as Roy said Riza's name. He met Roy's gaze with a calculating stare before stepping the rest of the way in, straightening to his full height.

Havoc had his arms crossed, standing between the kitchen and front room. Casually, he lifted one hand to give an informal salute to Armstrong, "Hey, Chief."

"Captain Havoc," Armstrong nodded as Riza stepped into view. "Major Hawkeye..." he added cautiously.

Roy closed the door behind them as he led the way in. "There's stools at the bar. Come have a seat, I was just about to start breakfast."

"I wasn't going to stay long, I just came to brief you on the investigation concerning last night's- incident."

"You'll be needing to interview me for the investigation, I take it. I can give you a more candid explanation of events here. Have a seat, Colonel," he finished, making the order clear.

"Havoc, you're welcome to stay or go, but you should know we plan to explain the full situation to the Colonel. Sheska knows too," Riza informed.

Havoc hesitated before announcing, "I'll stick around, but mainly for a better understanding of this information network you mentioned."

Riza nodded as she moved to the fridge, pulling out some butter and a package of uncooked bacon.

"I can do that," Roy protested, watching her pull out a pair of frying pans.

"I'd rather you lead the discussion, Sir. Besides, you usually burn bacon."

"I'm better at eggs, though," he grumbled as Armstrong and Havoc moved to the barstools, Alex watching their interaction with a furrowed brow.

Clearing his throat, Roy met Armstrong's intelligent gaze, a nervous sweat threatening to coalesce on his back. "Honestly, you're the first person I've told. Riza told Catalina, who told Havoc. My aunt, Vanessa, and Madeline from the Bar caught us when they came over to help me move in. And Sheska put several pieces together- rather expertly.

"Riza's been living with me since her apartment fell through when we returned from Ishval. It started off innocent, but finally gave us the opportunity to act on some rather- latent- romantic..."

"We're sleeping together," Riza provided, voice flat as she cracked an egg into the frying pan. "How would you two like your eggs?"

A silence filled the kitchen as Riza cracked another egg.

"Scrambled is fine. If you have cheese, that's better," Havoc shrugged, leaning against the counter. "Sorry, Colonel. Be- Catalina and I snatched these from Miss Steiner's room last night," he informed Armstrong, grabbing one of the manila envelopes and pulling out a stack of developed pictures. He spread them out, Roy grimacing at the contents.

Multiple photos of Riza climbing in or out of the sports car Grumman had given her, rushing inside with Catalina driving off with the car, or Catalina waiting to pick Riza up. Each was dated, giving a clear impression this wasn't just multiple shots of the same incident. There were several pictures of him, or Riza, or both of them, walking Hayate around the neighborhood, also dated- and those were the innocent ones.

Shots clearly taken through partially opened blinds, or the corner of windows gave images to more intimate moments. Tender expressions of affection, like him caressing Riza's cheek in the kitchen. More heated moments of them touching or kissing or in various states of undress dominated the photos.

Anger flushed through his entire being. How dare she invade their privacy like this? How dare she date every single one like it was some timeline? These sacred moments of love, affection, and admittedly lust didn't belong to anyone but him and Riza.

Roy's hand twitched, fingers pressing together with the instinct to burn the evidence. His eyes caught sight of more than one shot of Riza's exposed back- tattoo and burn clearly visible.

Only partially through the stack, Armstrong waved for Havoc to stop, quickly sliding photos together again. "I get the point. Let's not infringe on their privacy further," he whispered. Havoc nodded, quickly combining piles and slipping them into their envelope again.

Roy's knuckles cracked, his face hot as he glared at the envelope. "So last night's incident..." Armstrong prompted.

"Annette has been trying to get me to sleep with her for nearly a decade. I made it a personal rule to never sleep with the informants and girls at the Bar. I also was more interested in Riza. When her behavior borderlined stalking, my aunt transferred her to the Central City Bar, and when I was transferred there, Chris moved her back East."

"Why didn't the Madame just fire her?" Havoc asked, a finger tapping on the counter.

"You don't just 'fire' someone in the information business. They can easily betray your secrets to the highest paying bidder- or any bidder, really. Annette was aware I was trying to become Fuhrer, and her knowledge would have been damaging for a long time. After the Promised Day, I suppose she could have been dismissed, but she was a damn good informant when it came to intel from Aerugo."

"So, what happened last night?" Armstrong inquired, his gaze sharp.

Behind him, Riza stepped up, placing a plate with toast and cheesy scrambled eggs in front of Jean, edging the butter to the middle of the counter. "The bacon will be ready in a few minutes. How would you like your eggs, Colonel?"

"Raw. Four in a glass with a splash of milk would be perfect." Roy had to resist gagging, the sight of Jean's face turning green proving he wasn't the only one.

"Sir, you'll get sick," Riza protested, expression stoic.

"But that's one of the secrets to how I've developed such a perfect body! It's a technique that's been passed down the Armstrong family for generations!"

"Will you survive if I just give you lightly scrambled?" She turned back to the stove, checking the bacon.

"Yes, I suppose," Armstrong lamented, his eyes falling to the envelopes again. "Back to last night..."

"Vanessa gave me a code phrase, 'East City Haze', if you'll recall," he glanced at Havoc, who had started eating his eggs. "She let me know that Annette would be arriving around 2100 and advised me to get Riza out of the bar before then.

"I was in the process of informing Ri about the threat when Annette arrived early. She joined us at the bar shortly after I blew out the candles and began to make threats concerning leaking the information to General Hakuro."

"That's a specific choice. Why not just the Military Board?" Armstrong asked.

Roy opened his mouth, not having considered the question before. To him, it made sense. Hakuro had the information about Olivier and Miles, but why would Annette jump to informing him?

"I'm not sure. I'm not privy to who has used my aunt's informants, but it's possible Hakuro is or was one of them."

"She also didn't say Hakuro's name. She phrased it as 'a certain General down south,'" Riza added, grabbing the toast that had just popped from the toaster.

"Anyways, she offered to negotiate terms for the blackmail up in her room, but she only wanted to talk with me. I sent Riza to get my aunt and went into the lion's den.

"Annette demanded 500 million cenz and an- arrangement where I was to sleep with her once a week for a year," his stomach writhed with the concept, the violated feeling from seeing all those pictures quickly returning. "I offered the money but made it clear under no circumstance would I ever sleep with her once, let alone multiple times. She didn't like that." He fell silent, the conflict running through his mind.

Riza returned to his side, passing a plate over to Armstrong with half cooked eggs and toast. Her side pressed against him as her free hand ran up his back, rubbing in between his shoulder blades comfortingly.

"Annette pulled a gun. I remember the door opening behind me. I had worn my left ignition glove and kept it hidden in my pocket, just in case. I burned her weapon with the intention of disarming her, but I was a second too slow and she got a shot off. Chris shoved me out of the way, took the bullet and shot back.

"Annette struggled for breath for a few moments, but my attention was on Chris. Dr. Marcoh and Miss Chang showed up with Alphonse after I cried out for help, and you know the rest."

He felt- unattached. His panic and fear swirling around behind a wall he'd erected. He had to be calm and factual for this. He couldn't dwell on the blood. He couldn't dwell on the shock.

Armstrong sat staring at his untouched plate, holding his fork in a death grip, knuckles turning white. Riza silently squeezed Roy's shoulder before pulling back, taking the bacon out of the pan behind him.

"I have a question. Did Miss Steiner threaten blackmail before last night?"

"No," Roy shook his head.

"Then why did you know there was a threat? Other than her history of stalking you, I see no reason why you would be advised to extract Major Hawkeye from the party."

The tea. The emergency contraceptive. Riza's period.

"Major Hawkeye and I went to the Bar after Catalina and Havoc found out about our relationship. Vanessa and Annette were the only girls there, and Vanessa defaulted to using Riza's code name, Elizabeth. A secret amongst the girls is that I've had Elizabeth as a long time lover, my excuse for not sleeping with them. Only a few of them know who Elizabeth really is.

"The concern was that Annette would learn of Riza's real identity at the party now that she knew her face. It was more of a fear of jealousy that would lead to blackmail, but apparently we were a few steps behind."

There was a silence as Riza placed the bacon in the middle of the bar, her expression subdued. "I take it you're telling me in hopes I'll help run interference. Particularly concerning this investigation," Armstrong deduced, his blue eyes narrowing over his mustache.

"Yes, Sir," Riza answered, pressing against Roy's side, worry creasing her brow. Roy wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

Armstrong glanced between them. "You need to eliminate Major Hawkeye from the narrative. Anyone else who knows about her involvement needs to be on board with the altered story."

"But I was injured last night. The Elrics, Miss Rockbell, the entire Team, Knox, Marcoh, and Miss Chang, they all know."

"Who knows why you were injured? I don't," Armstrong offered.

"Vanessa- Madeline, Chris, Roy, and Havoc," Riza listed off hesitantly.

"Wait, I do?" Jean asked.

"That's a more manageable list. Keep me out of it, but fill everyone in on the story who needs to know," Armstrong advised. "I won't dig too deep, but I need you to do your part on covering things up."

After their two guests ate their fill and Armstrong took a cup of coffee, Roy waved them off briefly on the front porch before retreating back into the house. Bolting the door, he made a point to make sure the blinds were properly closed and the curtains drawn before joining Riza back in the kitchen.

She had served up a plate for him, the scrambled eggs still steaming as she cracked two more into the pan. Moving in, he wrapped his arms around hers from behind, running his fingers down her forearms slowly. He could feel her skin goose as she stiffened, but in a good way. He smirked, pressing a kiss to the hinge of her jaw. "Let me," he whispered. The only type of eggs she could cook reliably were scrambled, but she preferred fried.

She scoffed, relaxing in his arms. "Your eggs will get cold."

"They'll go well with my cold bacon and cold coffee," he snickered, guiding her away from the stove.

She settled next to him, slipping some bread into the toaster as she leaned against the counter. "We have a lot to do this weekend. Sheska promised to handle the request for leave forms. Between setting up the investigation and getting the house ready for your aunt, we'll hardly have time to sleep."

"I thought you wanted to go over our options before committing to taking Chris in," he commented, focusing too hard on the eggs, trying to keep himself present.

"There are drawbacks, but I think here would be better than the Bar. I've been coming up with a list. First, we need to get the window fixed. Second, we need to furnish the main floor. We'll need someone who can come over and watch Chris while we're at work. Girls from the Bar? Which means if we go to ladies outside of Madeline and Vanessa, I can't be seen here."

His gut dropped at that as he glanced her way. She had grabbed a manila envelope while he wasn't looking and was slipping out the negatives of the photos Havoc had shown earlier. Roy caught her wrist, stopping her. "You don't need to look at those."

She met his eyes, her chestnut gaze steady. "Yes, I do."

"Alright," he let her go, keeping his voice careful. "Can we look at them together, then?"

"But you've seen some of them," she challenged.

"Major," he prodded lightly.

She hesitated, then slipped the film back into the envelope. She glanced inside, pulling out a yellow receipt paper, reading the contents with a slight frown. "I'm glad Havoc didn't seem to know what this was for. Especially now that we know I'm not pregnant."

Carefully flipping her eggs, he promised, "We can burn it all after we look through it."

"Yeah, that's probably the best idea," she murmured, returning the receipt to the bag. Setting the envelope back on the bar, she settled next to him again, a distant look in her eyes. "Do you think she told anyone?"

Roy shook his head, not liking the thought. "I don't know."

After a long moment the toaster popped, Roy gesturing for the plate after she served the toast onto it. Slipping her eggs carefully onto her plate, he chuckled at the hungry look lighting up her eyes, reminding him of a smaller, scrawnier version of her from their youth.

"Go ahead, Love. Don't let it get cold," he teased lightly.

She grabbed a fork from the utensil drawer before cutting into the eggs without hesitation. She began shoveling it into her mouth, hardly breathing between mouthfuls as she devoured them faster than he could keep up with.

His blood ran cold, his mind racing over the last day. She'd not touched his birthday cake, and she couldn't eat the party food because of the shrimp. She'd practically ran out of the Office at lunch yesterday. The last thing he'd seen her eat was that bite of pancake she'd licked off of his chest in the morning.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked, keeping his voice even.

Freezing halfway through hastily buttering her toast, she lowered her knife and plate to the counter, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't try to skip meals," she informed defensively, her shoulders visibly hunching as she turned her face away.

"That's not what I asked," he let his voice flatten, turning towards her.

Her hand fidgeted on the edge of her plate, her jaw tightening. "Yesterday morning."

"That single bite of pancake?"

"Yes."

"Did you eat before bringing me breakfast?"

"... No." He turned back to the frying pan, trying to bury his frustration as he cracked the last three eggs into the pan. "Roy, I'm not trying to starve myself," she pressed, crossing over to him and catching his sleeve.

Halfway through closing the eggshells in the empty carton, he turned towards her, catching her lips in a quick kiss. "Good. I'm just making sure you catch up. Go finish off the bacon."

She huffed, indignation coloring her face. "I'm fine!"

"Eat," he pressed, turning to snatch the bacon and handing the plate to her.

She huffed again, taking it and moving behind him to the bar. He had to school himself into not looking over his shoulder to stare at her eating. The slight crunch of her biting into her toast and bacon reached his ears well enough.

Honestly, this on top of everything else? Sure, he understood the breakfast and dinner situations, but what in the world had happened for her to skip lunch too? Then she had cooked for Havoc and Armstrong without eating a bite, waiting patiently for them to finish while she was probably starving.

He shook his head as he pulled the frying pan off the burner, crossing over to stand beside her. She glanced up at him as he slid the eggs onto her plate, Roy daring to catch her mouth in another kiss, his lips finding a few crumbs on hers. She scowled, swallowing as she grabbed his plate, pressing it against his stomach. Discarding the pan and spatula in the sink, he accepted it, only to find two slices of bacon tucked on the corner of his plate.

"Ri..."

"You need to eat too," she answered firmly, digging into her fresh eggs.

He sighed, resigning himself to his cold breakfast as he passed her to fetch a fork and knife. "As you say, my Queen," he mumbled. A sharp pain suddenly stung his ass, Roy spinning, clapping a palm over the spot to find her smirking, fingers pulling back from pinching him. "RIZA!"

"Thank you for breakfast, my King," she added the moniker with a large heaping of sarcasm, despite the genuine gratitude in her eyes.