Frank Archer stood in the empty apartment wearing nothing but moonlight. He could distinguish the green and gold flags through the window glass even in the dark of night and hated the aura of malice they radiated. Frank knew he was the only one who could see the maleficence they represented, but soon everyone would know. Everyone would see what he saw. He'd make them.

The Eastern University of Military Application was an easy target. Despite its entrails teeming with the alchemy that had been denied him, the walls weren't well guarded. Frank would not wait on the government to blow the lid off the silenced song of alchemy, even if rumor had it the high court wouldn't have a leg to stand on in less than a year's time. The shuffling of papers and squeaking of polished shoes on polished floors were all useless. So useless. These men in suits, like that amateur Shou Tucker, did not understand his suffering, the hoops he'd jumped through. Even once he'd played their game, they'd still sent him away. For years, he'd wasted away in Xing, biding his time.

Voices echoed in his head. Cadet Archer is too unstable. Displays sociopathic tendencies with proclivities toward violence. Messianic complex. Thesis in eugenics. Cadet Frank Archer is denied admittance to the State Alchemist program with extreme prejudice. Unfit for service. Dishonorable discharge. The names of his former superiors ticked off one by one. They may have put him out of sight and out of mind, but he'd never forgotten them. Very soon now, they'd see their errors. Like a phoenix, Frank Archer would rise from the pyre they'd burned him on, and he'd turn those flames upon them with a vengeance.

Their efforts to keep alchemy from him had been for naught. Anything could be bought for the right price, and the alchemy black market was bustling. Frank had managed to acquire just enough skill to accomplish his goal. His sources from inside the rotting military corpse had let it slip that the apprentice of his old classmate and venomous detractor, Berthold Hawkeye, had been accepted as a cadet three years ago. His blood percolated excitedly at the news. What better way to make a statement than to bring an end to the man's self-righteous legacy?

He could still remember the outrageously flagellating arguments Hawkeye had made when Frank tried to push him to share his notes. Fire is dangerous. It is consuming. You don't have the temperament for this knowledge. I wish I hadn't revealed as much to you as I have already. The military doesn't need more weapons of destruction. I'm resigning my commission. Hawkeye had held in his undeserving hands the ultimate power, but he'd walked away from the turret and turned to a life of academia. What a waste. Frank was glad he was dead.

Despite all his proselytizing, Archer knew Hawkeye's ego wouldn't allow him to destroy his discoveries. He'd heard of the explosion at the Central University of Sciences. It had to be alchemy related; the subsequent mutual relinquishment of his position proved that. The idea of Hawkeye sinking so low as to accept employment at a grade school academy was laughable to Frank. How the mighty had fallen. But now? Now it was all too clear. Hawkeye had found an apprentice, likely a similarly-minded boy who wallowed in honor and a disgusting sense of civic responsibility.

This Roy Mustang hadn't even taken any pains to protect Hawkeye's old notes. An astounding amount of confidence had been put in university security on the young cadet's part. Such misplaced trust. His plans to make a public statement against the military and its elitist institution hadn't changed. Destroying the legacy of Berthold Hawkeye was only a bonus. The ring was in sight, and Archer's hand was aimed to catch it.

Of all the things Roy could've been nervous about, going home over his last summer holiday as a student topped the heap. Somehow, it felt like a turning point. The previous summer he'd moved most of his belongings into Riza's house, and the two months he spent there had the sense of a vacation. It was odd to be in his hometown and not living under his aunt's roof. Everything had been a new experience, probably less-so for Riza, but it took Roy some time to adjust to his new surroundings. Especially the bedroom situation. Every night he'd spent at the Hawkeye house previously had either been in a guest room or Riza's childhood bedroom. Seeing her father's old room, which he'd only been in a handful of times to begin with, outfitted in new furniture and knowing it was a space he shared with Riza was overwhelming. He didn't regret moving in with her, but he didn't think he'd fully acclimate until he was done traveling back and forth.

She met him on the platform with a grin and a hug. "Welcome home, handsome."

Roy leaned into her and sighed. "Tell me again why I thought going to the military university was a good idea."

Riza ran her fingers through his short hair. "Because you're impatient and stubborn?"

"I was hoping for something more romantic like impetuous."

"You think heedless is romantic?"

"I suppose when you put it in those words, no." Roy pressed his lips to hers and felt the weight of displacement slough off his shoulders. "Let's go home. I hate train stations."

Traffic in the city seemed busier than usual, and Roy fidgeted.

"What's the matter?" Riza asked.

"I'm just tired. Sometimes I think if I could walk away from this whole military business right now, I would. Last week, one of my professors cornered me and interrogated me about a commission offer I haven't even received yet."

"Hm," Riza murmured.

"Everything is changing. I still have a year left until I can take the certification exam, and usually a commission isn't offered until after graduation, but there's been a lot of pressure lately because everyone knows Senator Tucker is making an aggressive push."

"The military afraid of losing you."

"Not me exactly, just the things I can do. Ever since your dad's work was stolen, there's a fear that the techniques I use will be lost to what they call backyard alchemy. It's a stupid slur." Roy sighed and closed his eyes in irritation. "I expect to be badgered until the very end."

"Will you drop out if the legislation passes before you graduate?"

"I want to, but I go back and forth. I still have the chemistry degree to complete, and if somehow nothing changes in government, I think it'll come in handy when I decline the commission." Roy smirked. "I could follow in the footsteps of your dad and teach loud-mouthed high school students why we add acids to bases and not the other way around."

Riza smiled but didn't look over at him.

"What do you think? Your opinion is important to me."

"I think you could've gotten a chemistry degree here in Central City. Don't give up on alchemy yet. I know it's what you really aspire to do."

"I don't want to be a soldier, Riza. I never did."

"Honestly, Roy, I think this subject isn't worth the stress of overthinking it. Alchemy is going to be legalized, and soon. If teaching interests you, I'm sure parents would line up to have an alchemist of your caliber and background tutor their child."

"Think so?"

"I know so. Do you realize how big of a deal this is? The country is evolving, and people know who you are. That essay you published this past winter on flammable gasses and controlled ignition devices was amazingly popular in the university network here. They compare you to my dad, and I think it would be a good idea to keep a tight grip on any of your physical documentation until you have a private office."

"Really?"

Riza's face twisted in disbelief. "Yes, you oaf! You've taken something my father had a decent grasp on and developed it into a precise science. The military isn't ignorant to this either." She shook her head. "Even if you are."

"I live in a bit of a bubble, Riza. I don't actually get out much. Once that paper was out of my hands, I just kind of… let it go." He shrugged.

"You asked for my opinion, and here it is: Follow through with graduation, and get your certification and degree. Try not to let the politics get to you. Your professors are pretty damn biased, but I'm telling you legalization is happening, and there's no point in stressing yourself out over a decision I think you've already made in your heart. In a couple of years, you'll be able to draw arrays in the driveway, and no one will care." She pulled up to the house and stopped the car. "And most importantly? Relax. It's your last vacation before real life starts."

Roy glanced over at her. "Real life, for me, started when I moved in with you last summer."

"Are you truly okay, Roy? You seem a little distant."

"I promise that I'm fine. I just need to unwind myself." He sighed and took her hand. "It's hard to have a split existence. At school, I have to be a different person, and I'm expected to behave in a certain way. When I come home, it's not easy to leave that behind and just be me. Things are the worst at the end of the summer, and I have to go back to being a soldier, a scientist, a student… I really want a happy medium."

"Do you wish you'd kept your own space at your aunt's house?"

"No, Riza, I don't. That would just be another dichotomy. My personality doesn't need any more facets."

She nodded. "Don't ever feel like you can't tell me what's going on. With age comes perspective, and I don't want us to be like my parents. They kept secrets, and because of that they didn't last very long. I worry about you."

"One way or another, Riza, I'll be home for good soon. I'd rather be a high school chemistry teacher and be here with you, than a soldier with all the alchemy resources in the world."

She reached over and ran her fingers over the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"I love you."

Riza finally smiled. "Are you hungry? Solaris is inside, and I'm sure she'd make you a plate. Dinner isn't for a few hours."

"That would be great. Train food is really terrible, and I skipped breakfast."

Riza exhaled heavily and shook her head. "Oh, Roy." They stepped from the car, and he left his bag in the trunk. There would be plenty of time to sort through it later; the last thing he wanted to do was integrate his military gear into home life when he was still trying to merge himself into the environment. Roy felt her hand slide into his, and he kissed the top of her head. At the very least, she always smelled the same. "I know the train exhausts you. A nap before company shows up tonight may be in order."

Hayate pawed at Roy's pant legs when he walked through the front door, and he knelt to greet the dog properly. "Hey, boy. Holding down the fort, I see." A wet nose sniffed curiously at his hands and shirt cuff. "Want to take a nap with me, or are you courting Solaris in the kitchen?"

"That'll be a tough choice for him, Roy," Riza laughed.

"If he has any loyalty to me at all, he'll follow me upstairs."

"You may want to stack the deck and keep a bite of your sandwich handy," a voice from the hallway said. Roy stood and embraced Solaris. Her hair had a streak of grey near the temple, but her face was as agelessly beautiful as ever.

"Hey, Solaris. How are you?"

"I'm alright. It's a good thing you've stopped getting taller," she quipped. "I'm always afraid I won't be able to handle that bottomless pit of yours."

Roy's cheeks warmed. "The kitchens at school can't compete with you. I've always got a spot open for whatever you make."

Solaris smirked. "You're a shameless flatterer, Roy Mustang. I'll warm something up for you."

Evening walks with Riza and Hayate were fast becoming the favorite part of Roy's home life. Now that he didn't have anywhere to be afterwards, they'd linger in the park and watch the sunset. Hayate appreciated the children that had seemingly boundless energy to chase him and be chased in return. He took a special liking to a little blonde boy that Roy didn't think could be older than seven or eight.

"Can I give him a treat, Riza? Can I? My ma says these biscuits are okay for dogs." The boy's wide blue eyes gazed up at her hopefully.

"I'm sure Hayate would love a biscuit, Joseph." She leaned down to his eye level. "Make him work for it a little bit. He needs to learn how to sit and stay."

"Thanks, Riza!" He scampered off with the black dog on his heels. "Come on, boy!"

Riza laughed and took Roy's hand. "Hayate likes kids."

"That one looks familiar. Where have I seen him before?"

"Oh, that's Jean's little brother. He wasn't quite in kindergarten yet when you left the academy."

"Wow. The Havocs are a busy couple, I guess."

She squeezed his hand. "They started young. Jean's mother was only twenty when he was born. I think Joseph was a surprise and probably the last. I can't imagine having so many kids, to be honest."

"How many do they have?" Roy asked before he could stop himself. Conversations like this one made him sweat. He wasn't ready to talk about children.

"Five," she answered lightly, "but you know Mrs. Havoc doesn't work. She stays home, and their house is ridiculously perfect. Anytime Jean gave me a pretty box of something, I always knew exactly who'd done the wrapping and ribbons."

Roy didn't know how to respond and simply sat next to Riza on the park bench.

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Speaking of work, I've been doing a lot of thinking about my career path."

Finally, a change of subject. "Yeah? It doesn't require more moving around does it?"

"No, you're safe on that front. I don't think I want to pursue a position in government. Watching the frustrating way the wheels turn these last couple of years has really killed my interest in the whole process. Activism is one thing, but legislation is another."

"What? A lifetime of paper shuffling and shouting from podiums doesn't appeal to you? I'm shocked at you, Riza."

She chuckled and kissed his shoulder. "I think I'd romanticized it a little bit."

"Do you regret the decision to study political science?"

"Not at all, but I think my focus changed a little. I've been thinking more along the lines of teaching. It's been on my mind for a while, but now I'm sure."

"I think you'd make a great teacher, Riza. You have a quiet patience that impresses me, and everyone likes you."

"Solaris was right," Riza chided him, "You are a shameless flatterer."

"I mean it!"

She went on. "I was approached by a recruiter from the academy after my final exam scores were posted. He offered me a student teaching position for the fall semester. I can double up on courses in the spring and get my educator certification pretty easily."

"Wow, that sounds like a lot of work."

Riza sighed. "It will be, but I think it's what I want." She pulled away from him and sat straight. "Do you think I could do it?"

Roy turned to her and took her hands in his. "I absolutely think you can do it, and I think it'll make you happier than a job in the government house."

"I can't help but think it'll be a little odd to be back in our old school as a teacher. The recruiter implied they'd be interested in offering me a position if my internship goes well. The letter was signed by Bradley himself."

His eyebrows flew up. "Wow, that old grouch is still at the helm? He's got to be a million years old by now!"

She laughed and settled back into his side. "He's not that old, Roy. I'd put him at maybe sixty-five. He'll probably stay on until he dies at his desk."

"I only see one problem with this situation."

"What's that?"

"I'm sure Bradley will jump at the chance to have Doctor Hawkeye's daughter to his credit, but I think it all depends on how your application reads."

"Meaning?"

"Well, if it says Riza Hawkeye, I'm sure you'll be hired on the spot. However, if it says something like, I don't know, Riza Mustang, it might give him pause."

"Riza Mustang, huh? That's an interesting name."

"I kind of like it." He glanced down at her and winked.

"Is that who you want? Riza Mustang?"

"I just want Riza. It doesn't matter so much if her last name is Hawkeye or Mustang. Just think about it."

"Well, I think this Riza Hawkeye would first require her boyfriend to come home from playing soldier for more than a few months out of the year before considering changing her last name."

Roy laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "He's working on it."