Chapter 8
Rebecca strolled down the hallway, a bright smile plastered on her face. Calling Riza had made her miss her friend even more than before, so she had gathered up any and all tragic family excuses and marched right up to Grumman's desk. He was unfathomably busy, the rumours of the Fuhrer office being entrusted to him apparently ringing with truth.
Not yet having had unpacked a single lie – half hoping he hadn't heard with his nose buried in paperwork and would just rubber-stamp her request for leave – Grumman had looked up. And beamed at her with a grin.
"Give the two my well-wishes," he had said without batting an eye. Stunned, Rebecca hadn't been able to say a thing for a second. Yes, she of all people, speechless. But then he had chuckled, and she hadn't been able to help herself as she had wholeheartedly joined in laughing. He was such a strange coot, but a dependable one.
"Will do." She had saluted briskly.
"Tell Mustang I want to see him as soon as he recovers – in case I don't get to the hospital any time soon," Grumman had instructed. Nodding, Rebecca had turned to leave. "Oh," he had beckoned her back, rummaging through his pocket. When she had given him the demanded hand, he had slapped in a handsome amount of Cens. "Use this to buy Riza the nicest flowers you can find."
'Riza', huh? Rebecca still frowned to herself as she wandered down the hospital corridor. First name basis with General Grumman? Whatever that had been about, she could ask her friend soon.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed a more or less familiar figure crouching in front of the vending machine.
"Fuery?" she asked, having forgotten his rank.
"Oh." The young man rose to his feet, saluting. She grinned inwardly as she let him remain like that for a moment longer. "Second Lieutenant." And wasn't he a good boy, remembering her rank. She wondered if he knew her name too, but didn't press the matter. She had pastries and flowers to deliver.
The sheer heaviness of her bag was going to turn her friend's eyes into saucers.
"You know vending machines are like a ton more expensive inside a hospital than outside of it?" She raised a brow.
"I know!" he nearly exclaimed. Okay, unexpected, she admitted, the corner of her mouth curling up into an amused smile. "But Jean asked me to get him cigarettes, and he said he didn't care if they were expensive even though I told him exactly that," Fuery puffed. He was cute, she assessed.
"Havoc's here?" That man was cute too, in another way. Damn, Riza had so much luck with her team colleagues – one handsome if obnoxious, the other even more handsome and less obnoxious (and blond; that savage dishwasher blonde, so that was a plus) – and then there was this little cutie. Too little, though not bad-looking either, Rebecca nodded in approvement as she let her eyes flash up and down.
It made Fuery retract his lips uncomfortably.
"He's still with the Colonel and the Lieutenant; he should return any moment," Fuery dutifully reported.
As if on cue, Havoc's voice travelled from a few doors down just then. "I'll beat you anytime, mole!"
"Cripple!" It came back from the inside. Oh, so they were at that stage? Calling her superior such names would never cross Rebecca's mind, not even when she extended superior to Grumman. One shared a laugh, but one never treated the other like a drinking buddy. The perks of having a commanding officer this laid-back, she shrugged, annoying and pompous, but laid-back. Must have been his young age.
Not to mention Havoc was currently not enrolled in the military.
With squeaking wheels as he tried to manoeuvre out of the doorway, keeping it open to call back a few more insults, Havoc bore a huge cheeky grin.
Crossing over to where he was, Rebecca held the door for him to wheel out backwards.
"Funny you say that, because right now, you look like a— My, what a pretty lady in such a gloomy place." He switched to a most charming grin once seeing her. She rolled her eyes. Let him woo some more. "I wouldn't mind treating you to lunch." He winked, naming a time and place she secretly took great care to remember. Fashionably late was all he would get for now; a good first test on patience and temper. That, and she didn't like to be rushed.
She did like being treated to lunch though, and by the most handsome of Riza's team on top of that.
"Grow a pair of working legs before you start on the nuts, Havoc," Mustang insulted from inside the room. Havoc inhaled deeply for what was undoubtedly even lower than below the belt, then reconsidered in front of Rebecca. Inside the room, they must have assumed her to simply be a nurse.
Hayate trotted up to them, greeting Rebecca fleetly before stuffing his nose into Havoc's lap. His smile changed, something Rebecca watched attentively, keeping her inward smile neatly tucked away as she couldn't help but appreciate the way he merrily smuggled the dog a biscuit from his pocket.
"Please don't feed him anymore." Came Riza's voice this time, calm and by far quieter than those of the men. Grinning sheepishly, Havoc chuckled as he sent Hayate back inside.
"They're dog treats, I swear."
"Swear you'll walk them off his hips and we're good," she countered from her bed which Rebecca couldn't see yet. The Colonel praised her witty remark, making Havoc tsk. Deciding against any more primary school quarrelling, he simply held the door open for Rebecca as soon as he had cleared the way, then left with one final wink and Master Sergeant Fuery in tow.
Opting to use the chance for a surprise, Rebecca entered noiselessly, letting the door fall shut behind her as if Havoc had merely left just now. The hospital's administration skills were mediocre to say the least – it was impossible that someone had already told them about her coming. News needed hours, perhaps over a day to travel if one didn't do it oneself.
She speculated whether she could just drop by sometime without any appointment whatsoever.
Since Hayate had already seen her, he sauntered back into the room without giving her away. There was a creak, then rustling, followed by an exhale of content. She knew to expect him on his master's bed now. What she wasn't prepared for were the beds themselves. Their position – or rather, their positions' purpose.
The nightstand was already confusing where it had been moved to the foot of the first bed. Rebecca almost gasped when seeing the empty cake box on the windowsill across from her – she had wanted to be the first! And what a box it was, rendering her own almost small. Then there were the flowers on the nightstand – oh, no, it was just a potted plant. Only there was no pot. Then why put it in water if there were no buds whatsoever?
Sneaking further, Rebecca peeked around the corner. There was the reason for the impractically placed nightstand: the beds were closer together. And with the beds closer together, the gap between them was smaller, currently used in the form of holding hands.
Holding hands with her superior officer, Rebecca berated inwardly.
Sitting up against the headboard, Riza had a book propped up against her legs so she wouldn't have to hold it. Hayate was curled up at her feet. Her hand was dangling down the side of her bed, fingers entwined with the Colonel's. The latter had his free hand behind his head, having sunken down a little more into his pillows.
"Woof, woof," he alerted. Greyly veiled eyes snapped into Rebecca's direction. That was it however, since they didn't meet hers directly. It made her wince all the same.
"Good boy," Riza softly said, the faintest of hints of amusement on her lips. Discretely – or so she hoped – she released his hand and looked up. "Rebecca," she greeted happily. The light tinge of pink on her cheeks at being caught didn't go unnoticed by Rebecca's observant gaze.
"Walk up and down for a minute," the Colonel ordered. Frowning, Rebecca didn't feel addressed for a second.
"Please do so," Riza added, "just once or twice," she said. Still frowning, Rebecca did as she was told, crossing the room to put down her pastries on the windowsill, then returned to round Riza's bed. "It's to remember the sound of your steps," she explained. At that, Rebecca couldn't help but stare at Mustang.
"Your eyes…" she remembered. She surprised herself with a small sting of pity in her chest. Clearing her throat, she lifted the bouquet in her arms. It was stunning, practically oozing 'expensive', which was why Riza raised both brows. Rebecca would have liked to return the gesture; to wordlessly chide her friend's more-than-just-friendly gesture towards her superior, but it was too late.
As with dog training, the chances of meaningful glances were fleeting.
"The old geezer sends these for you – gave me a heck load of money to buy them. Even with the change, I can still buy myself a coffee." She held it out. Her gaze flashed sidewards several times, always checking whether those sharp yet at the same time dull eyes in the other bed actually followed her.
Riza sat up more, setting her book aside.
"General Grumman sent them? For me?" She frowned. Despite it being rather counterproductive, she took them. Rebecca looked around for a vase, finding nothing but the glass with the leaves. What kind of hospital was this, not having vases prepared in a lady's, and on top if that high-ranking officer's room? Did they expect people to bring their own vases?
Then again, that 'change' she had left would have sufficed for buying one.
"If he'd know what's good for him, he'd take you under his command the second you step out of this antiseptic-stinking building," Roy remarked. Having sat up too, he crossed his arms. "Let's hope he'll never be that wise."
"I don't think he would do that – he respects your wishes," Riza said. Rebecca blinked twice. Looking from one to the other, she stared on a little stupidly. Respected what wishes? That she continued to serve under Mustang? But he was… She eyed him again. No, he was definitely blind. They couldn't truly believe the military accepting a blind man as Colonel, could they? No matter his exceptional skills if seeing wasn't one of them…
"Becca?" Riza tilted her head. Rebecca jerked back into the present. She took back the bouquet from her friend. Now where to put them…?
"I can leave you ladies alone, you know," the Colonel said.
"Don't worry," Riza soothed. Rebecca wanted to object. She didn't want him to get her wrong, he was a cool guy and all – handsome, considerate, quick-witted, if sometimes irritating – but having him around felt awkward. She didn't possess the calm demeanour Riza had come to adapt with her superior in the room (not to mention seemed to treat him in a by far more affectionate way that she was supposed to).
"You need a vase, don't you?" He raised a brow. Rebecca stared at him anew, a battle between staying unsuspicious and full-on gaping. How did he know that if he couldn't see?
Somehow not only at peace with that shocking remark, but also understanding his innuendo – a.k.a. tactful stubbornness – Riza got out of bed. Hayate joined her, naturally, as if glued to her heels. She went to the Colonel's bed, waiting until he had tossed back his blanket and found his hospital slippers on the ground.
They were like clockwork. In perfect harmony, as if he hadn't been blinded merely a few weeks ago but already some twenty years in the past, they moved along and to the door.
"I'll ask at the desk – the nurses all love me," he said, earning himself a chuckle from his Lieutenant. Rebecca's brows shot up. Not the funniest, most brilliant flirt of about any man at any bar lured that out of her. And here they were, matching awful clothes, one dragging their feet more than the other, either one seeming equally ready to sleep for a decade or enjoy a proper shower, and Riza giggled.
Perhaps too much disinfection made you high…?
"Just remember to ask them to give you the vase – I hear one of nurses was a discus thrower in her youth," Riza quipped.
"With my luck, the ninety-year-old mummy is going to smack me with it."
"Sixty-seven," Riza corrected, her tone carrying a grin as much as his did. A completely unnecessary information, had it not sounded as if it was more of an insider than a rectification.
"The canyons on her face tell me otherwise," he returned. Rebecca swallowed the next unbelieving huff. Perhaps he was just short-sighted…?
She waited while they left the room, pretending not to have noticed the habitual enclosing of Riza's arm around her superior's back that she had swiftly switched for taking his arm. As one should. Not because he was a superior, but because that was how one guided a blind person. Unless he was still suffering from severe injuries, this behaviour had no other reason than to satisfy a need for contact.
And while Rebecca would have liked to interpret it as a simple helpfulness of her friend; a lingering, soon passing left-over fear of losing a close acquaintance and colleague, she knew better. She knew the way Riza looked at the man she was prohibited to grace at with such fondness. The question remaining was whether she should address it or not. If so, then how.
"Sorry," Riza apologised once she returned. Slipping back into bed, she patted it to allow Hayate to join her. "I'm not supposed to get up all the time," she said, hinting at the fever she had downplayed on the telephone. Hayate wagged his tail, standing between her legs where the sheets outlined them. She had to gently shove him away from her face for him to calm down and stop nuzzling her.
"You really shouldn't," Rebecca agreed. "Say, how exactly does he know about the old nurse's wrinkles?" she asked, unable to let the subject rest. Setting the flowers down on the windowsill next to the empty cake boxes, she retrieved her own parcel.
"She was here the last time he was hospitalised," Riza explained. "When he and Jean…" she trailed off, gaze sinking.
"Yeah," Rebecca sighed sympathetically. "I have to ask again though: how did he know about the vase?"
"Because he struggled with the same problem some time ago." Riza smiled. Pointing a finger, Rebecca followed it to the glass of water and the… greenery. "I know what you're thinking, but feel," Riza encouraged.
Frowning, Rebecca did as she was told. She left the pastries next to Riza, making sure the dog didn't get his paws on them, then went over to the relocated nightstand. Riza was never one to try and justify herself; to prove something she believed in. Because it didn't matter to her whether others did too – she did, and that was enough. She was not one to preach and persuade – she chose her own path out of conviction, not what others thought of it.
Him, she defended.
"They're soft," Rebecca noted. "But what are they?"
"Roses, probably," Riza shrugged.
"Didn't he want to ask for assistance?" Men, never biting the bullet of admitting they weren't all-knowing. That notion almost made her fail to realise that the Colonel had bought his Lieutenant flowers. Sure, she was recovering in hospital, but so was he.
"He prefers to make decisions himself," Riza said, a gentle smile on her lips. And in her eyes. Oh boy, Rebecca thought, she had been right. That was a bad thing. Far be it for her to let her friend down gently, but she felt she had to. Falling for a superior would entail nothing but disaster.
Fraternization laws weren't even her first drive, but if the new top brass – anyone for that matter – wanted to blackmail the Colonel, there was his target right there. Fuhrer Bradley had been the prime example only weeks ago.
And what a cute target Riza was, Rebecca frowned to herself with a mixture of amusement and pity. Sitting there, smiling to herself like a teenager dreaming of a romance novel coming true. It was almost sad.
She had to say something.
"Hey, Reez." Rebecca sat back down on the side of her friend's bed. Meeting her eyes, Riza's friendly smile remained. Gods, this was hard. What kind of a heartless creature could tell to that face that her feelings were wrong and that she had to abandon them?
A friend could. A friend had to.
"You haven't told me how you're doing yet," Rebecca dodged instead. She couldn't bring herself to say it.
Who knew, perhaps it was all just her restless interpretation – she had been on the hunt for a relationship for so long, surely she was beginning to hallucinate. The hospital really did smell strongly of disinfection.
"You asked me just the other day," Riza nudged her arm playfully. Suspecting nothing.
Rebecca suppressed a sigh. "I'm worried, okay?"
"You don't have to be – my fever's as good as gone and all there is left to do is sit around and wait for my skin to heal," Riza reassured.
Rebecca narrowed her eyes. "Strangely enough, the lady at the front desk phrased it much more dramatically."
"To scare you off; they aren't keen on many visitors."
"Then maybe you should stop having those visitors yell at you from across the hall," she laughed, remembering Havoc. Havoc! What time again had he proposed for lunch?
"I feel as if I should be offended." The Colonel came around the corner just then. His shoulder to the wall, he grinned broadly at them – their general direction, though rather precise for someone living with blindness for just over a month. He carried a vase in each arm.
Riza got up, replacing the pastry bag on the nightstand. Lifting up the yet-to-be roses from their glass, she poured its contents into the smaller vase. For someone who wasn't supposed to be out of bed, she was fairly active. She was a workaholic after all – the Colonel now needing even more assistance might have actually been a very welcome task for her instead of an additional burden, it dawned on Rebecca. The meaning of her life, so it seemed, chained to her. A mutual desire for inseparability.
Keeping from shaking her head to herself, Rebecca got to work as well. Collecting the second vase, she filled it in the bathroom, then picked up the glamorous bouquet from the table below the window. In the meantime, Riza had guided the Colonel back to his bed, their teamwork so refined, he was sitting before Rebecca had turned off the drain.
A protective measure, she was certain, saving the man's face in front of her and others.
"Sorry I couldn't grant you any more time – I was more or less overrun by swarming admirers among the staff – they would've suffocated me if I hadn't fled." Mustang circled his palm in a pretended snobby way. Riza snorted lightly.
"The suffocation part I believe." She gave him a smirk. He returned it without being able to see hers. It was audible in her tone, and had he not been blind, he would have noticed the spark of tenderness in her eyes. Somehow, it seemed he knew anyway.
"Oh, before I forget," Rebecca cut into what she feared could have escalated into low-key flirting, "the old geezer wants to see you in his office once you're released – unless he makes it here first."
"Does he now?" The Colonel smirked even more. Ambitiously.
"I'm sorry I can't stay for longer, but I'll be back soon, I promise," Rebecca told Riza at the door.
"Don't rush yourself, I'm not going anywhere," Riza returned, a mellow smile on her lips. "Oh, and Jean dropped his; he'll be glad if you return it to him." She held out a lighter. Rebecca blinked at it, puzzled. How had she…? "Enjoy your lunch," Riza winked, then disappeared in their room again.
Rebecca flew down the corridors and out the front doors of the hospital, hiding the crimson colour on her cheeks under the guise of exercise.
