A/N: Deeply inspired by an episode of FRIENDS, but and still, somehow, canon compliant…
"Nice hickey, Hawkeye."
Havoc's words caused Riza to pause to a halt. Looking up from her desk, she gave her Second Lieutenant a cold, hard stare. "Pardon?" Her voice echoed a challenge.
"I said nice hickey," Havoc replied without fear, rubbing a hand up and down his neck.
Riza continued to glare at him. "Very funny Havoc."
From the desk next to Havoc, Breda cleared his throat. "You might want to look in a mirror, Hawkeye."
Riza frowned, but she stood up from her desk and exited the office. As she walked to the bathroom, she debated what punishment she would delve out to her subordinates if this turned out to be a prank.
If it wasn't a prank, someone else would be in much more trouble than Breda or Havoc could imagine.
To her dismay, the large, purple bruise on the left side of her neck was overwhelmingly noticeable. She grimaced at her reflection. She was going to kill Roy.
He had come over late last night, a new file fresh from Grumman's office in his hands. They had spent an hour pouring over the folder's contents before opening a bottle of wine. A few glasses later and they had tumbled into her bed, eager to indulge in the other. It had been far too long since their last encounter and Riza had allowed Roy to consume her mind and body completely.
Apparently too completely, Riza thought with a frown. In their drunkenness, Roy had carelessly given her a visible mark and Riza had not noticed in her flurry to get ready this morning.
Riza unpinned her shoulder length hair. She never wore makeup to work- it was far too impractical for a soldier- and had no other option of covering the obscene mark. She studied her reflection for a moment. Her hair helped to hide it, but the dark purple of the hickey was still visible as her hair shifted with her movements. She silently wished it was longer.
She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was twenty-four years old and a newly promoted First Lieutenant in the Amestrian military. Other than her embarrassment, she would survive until the bruise faded.
She begrudgingly headed back to the office, pulling her collar up before sitting back down in her chair and silently resuming her work, ignoring the pointed looks from Breda and Havoc across the desk.
"So who's the lucky guy?" Havoc finally asked, unable to contain himself any longer.
"It's none of your business," Riza said through gritted teeth. She bent further forward and attempted to channel all of her focus on the paperwork in front of her.
"Oh come on, Hawkeye," Havoc groaned. "That's no fun. You know all about my dates. So tell me, is he a soldier? Civilian? Come to think of it, I don't even know what your type is."
"That's because it's none of your business." Riza's words stung like acid.
"What's none of Havoc's business?"
The team turned to find the source of Riza's dismay walking into the room almost an hour late. Riza quickly looked him over for any matching marks that would suggest he had had anything other than a late night in the office last night. As expected, she had left none.
Damn him.
"Havoc's just trying to learn more about Hawkeye's date last night," Breda said, fully throwing his best friend under the bus.
"Look at the size of the hickey on her neck chief!" Havoc insisted.
Even Riza had to admit that Roy's performance was flawless as he glanced at his subordinate. "Fun night, Hawkeye?" he asked her in the same manner he asked the other men about their bedroom escapades.
"I was just letting Havoc know it was none of his business, sir." She stood up from her chair. "I'm going to get a cup of coffee and a snack from the mess hall. When I get back, you all better be working or so help me I will make you wish you were transferring. Understood, gentlemen?"
The room was quiet as Riza stormed out and the men began to furiously work on the paperwork before them, the topic already abandoned.
/-/-/
"Hawkeye, can I please see the Jefferson file?" Mustang asked three hours later.
Riza looked up from her desk and blinked furiously. "Um, I don't have it with me sir." She could picture the folder perfectly, still sitting on her coffee table where they had abandoned it for the bedroom. Though Riza had avoided a hangover, she woke up unsually late and in her hurry to show up to work exactly on time, she had forgotten the folder. She cursed internally. "I took it home last night to review it and I'm afraid I left it there."
"Yeah, probably too distracted," Havoc joked before Riza shut him up with a glare.
Roy sighed. "We need that file before our meeting with Grumman at three."
"I can run home and get it, sir," Riza politely offered.
"And leave me to fend for myself during the budget briefing in an hour? Not happening." Roy turned to the rest of his men. "Breda, do you think you can swing by the Lieutenant's apartment and grab the file?"
"Of course, sir."
Riza relented and pulled out her house key. "It's on my coffee table. Take Hayate out while you're there."
At the mention of the black Shibu Inu, Breda grew pale.
Before Breda could speak his thoughts, Roy let out a sigh. "Havoc, go with Breda to protect him from the twenty-pound dog. I don't know why I'm allowing this to be a two-person job, but just get it done."
Hawkeye's apartment was only a few blocks from Eastern Command and twenty minutes later, Breda and Havoc arrived at her front door. Breda went to fetch the file on Hawkeye's coffee table as Havoc took out Black Hayate, the little dog barking with gratitude to his daytime visitors.
While he waited for Havoc to return, Breda sat down on the couch and opened the file. It detailed the accounts of a rogue alchemist who was wanted by the military for using his powers to create gold and establishing an underground weapons trade. This would be fun.
"Hey, Breda! Look at this!" Havoc called from the kitchen, pulling Breda's focus away from the file in his lap.
"What?"
Havoc pointed to the sink where two wine glasses stood in the drying rack. "Looks like Hawkeye's date spent the night here."
"Why are so you interested in this, Jean?" Breda asked. "Give the woman some privacy."
"That's just it! I've never heard Hawkeye talk about a single person she's dated the entire time I've known her and now she shows up to work with a hickey all over her neck! Hell, I know so little about Hawkeye's love life we don't even know she's into guys or girls!"
"Yes we do," Breda said. He walked over to the coat rack standing by Riza's front door. He motioned at a large, red sweater hanging from the top hook. "I bet you anything that's her date's jacket. Looks too big to be Hawkeye's and it's definitely a men's sweater."
"Perfect!" Havoc said as he snatched the sweater off its hook. "Now all we need is to find the owner."
"You're not seriously going to take it?" Breda said hesitantly.
"You bet your ass I am," Havoc said gleefully. "If Hawkeye forgot the Jefferson file, I promise she was so out of it this morning she may not even know this was left here."
"You're going to get us fired. Or worse, shot," Breda said as he shook his head.
"Calm down," Havoc dismissed. "Let's go, unless you'd like to be left alone here with Hayate…"
The two were out the door a minute later, all protests from Breda silenced.
/-/-/
"Hey Falman,Furey, look what we found," Havoc threw the sweater over to where the two officers were sitting. "What do you make of it?
"Cashmere. This is luxurious and was probably purchased in a department store," Falman said matter-of-factly. "This would cost a pretty penny. Why? Whose sweater is it?"
"That's the thing," Havoc said mischievously. "We found it at Hawkeye's house. It must belong to her mysterious man."
"Ah," Falman said. He pulled at the sweaters label. "It's a large, the most common size for men's clothing. I don't smell any identifying cologne and it appears clean and free of stains."
"I told you taking it was a dumb idea," Breda groaned. "You better hope Hawkeye doesn't notice we took it. And you better hide it soon. They should be back from the budget meeting soon to pick up the Jefferson file on their way to Grumman's office."
"I don't know why you took that. If the Lieutenant finds out…" Fuery said, fear evident in his voice.
"No risk, no reward," Havoc said as he hid the sweater inside his lower desk drawer. "I guess we can deal with this later."
Less than a minute after the stolen garment was successfully tucked out of sight, Roy and Riza walked back into the office. Riza's hair was still down in a meager attempt to cover the offensive mark on her neck.
"Did you find the file alright?" Riza asked her fellow Lieutenants.
"Right here," Havoc said as he handed over the folder.
"Wonderful, thank you. And Hayate?"
"Breda is still alive and I took him for a quick walk."
"Thanks Havoc," Riza said before she turned to follow Roy to their next meeting.
"I'll be right back," Havoc said, pulling the sweater out of his drawer once he was confident his superior officers were out of earshot. "I have an idea."
/-/-/
Havoc knew that Rebecca Catalina often escaped to the shooting range when the General was in an important meeting. Sure enough, he found her in the last booth, deep in focus.
"Catalina!"
She didn't bother to turn his way when she addressed him. "What is it now, Havoc?"
"Is that anyway to greet your favorite Lieutenant?" He ignored Rebecca's snort. "Okay, so I have a question. Do you know who Hawkeye is seeing?"
This caught Rebecca's attention and she finally turned around to meet his gaze. "Riza doesn't date. I haven't heard her talk about a man since… well since never."
"I have it on good authority that she does," Havoc smirked. "You should see the size of the hickey she's sporting today."
"What!" Rebecca said, eyes wide. "Seriously?!"
"It's so dark she can't even deny it. I had to stop by her apartment for an unrelated errand when she was in the budget meeting earlier and sure enough, two wine glasses were in her sink and I found this." He held out the cashmere sweater. "It's clearly not Riza's. Any idea?"
Rebecca took the sweater from Havoc's hand and held it out, examining it. After a minute she shook her head. "No. I have no idea."
"I didn't think so, but it was worth a shot. Don't tell her I showed you this, okay?"
"Only if you tell me who it is once you figure it out. If you do. I highly doubt it, however. Riza is as tight lipped as they come."
"Sounds like a deal."
Weeks passed and Havoc came to a dead end on his brief hunt for the sweater's owner. The garment stayed hidden in his lower desk drawer, out of sight and out of mind. Hawkeye made certain that the hickey was an anomaly. She gave no sign, positive or otherwise, that she continued to see her mystery man and any questions from Havoc were met with her quietly pulling out her gun and giving it a quick polish at her desk.
"I guess it's time to admit defeat," Havoc said as he pulled the sweater out of his desk drawer one evening. Hawkeye and Mustang were in a debriefing with Intelligence and he could finally sneak it out of the office undetected and forget about the entire thing. "Unless… Fuery…"
"For the tenth time, I am not bugging the Lieutenant's apartment. That is not how I want to die."
"Eh, it was worth asking," Havoc shrugged, only half serious with his request.
"I don't know why you thought this would work. There's nothing special about the sweater," Breda said.
Beside him, Falman nodded in agreement. "You're so lucky Hawkeye never caught you."
"I know, it just seemed too tempting an opportunity to pass up," Havoc said. He bid Falman, Fuery and Breda a good night and turned to leave, the sweater in hand to remove any evidence. As he was headed out of the door, the Colonel's phone rang.
"Can you get that while you're up, Havoc?" Breda asked from. "I'm trying to finish this so I can leave in the next ten minutes."
Havoc nodded and threw the sweater onto the couch in the Colonel's sitting area. "Colonel Mustang's office?"
It was Fullmetal. Havoc let Ed know that Roy was in a meeting and furiously took down a message on the notepad Hawkeye kept by the phone.
The office door opened as soon as the phone was back on its hanger. Roy and Riza walked in, a small pile of folders in each of their arms.
"Hey, chief," Havoc said with a smile. "Perfect timing. Fullmetal just called." He held out the notepad with Edward's message.
"Oh, thanks Havoc," Roy said as he headed over to grab the note. Before he reached Jean, he stopped for a moment, looking at the couch. He moved to pick up the sweater Havoc had thrown on the couch in his hurry to answer the phone. "Hey, I've been looking everywhere for this. Where did you guys find my sweater?"