A/N: Sooo, I kind of let this get away from me. I mean, it's almost 5,000 words. #SorryNotSorry Anyhoo, this is written in both Roy's and Riza's points of view. I also have a nice mix of happy/fun and angsty/sad. Hope you're up for a rollercoaster! I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. This is such a fun fandump that I can't stop. Deal with it. Part 3 is lovingly ripped off taylortot's Drunk!Riza Headcanon from Tumblr. I loved her drawings and have now made them into fanfiction form! Again, deal with it! Someone take my computer away from me. Enjoy!

(Part 1: Children)

Riza had always prided herself on her discipline. She could resist almost anything she deemed inappropriate. Since she was small, she had always been praised for being a respectful child. Roy, she suspected, had not. They had a rare day off of studies and had wandered out to the nearby lake where the other kids in the town often went over summer break. Roy's lanky legs dangled over the edge of the pier, his black hair shining in the early morning sunlight. He had rolled his slacks up to his knees and was trying to inch close enough to the edge to skim his toes across the glassy surface of the lake.

Riza smoothed out her dark blue romper and sat down next to him, folding her legs underneath her. Roy laughed at her. "Do you ever relax?" he asked, his head rolling to the side. He seemed so much older than his 16 years. Riza flushed in embarrassment, shifting so she sat on her butt instead. "I do. Our definitions of relaxation are a little different.

Roy's dark eyes met hers and he raised an eyebrow. "Do you ever like to have fun?"

Riza huffed petulantly. "Of course I do!"

"Like what?"

The 13 year old paused, very aware of how pink her cheeks were. "I read, I spend time in the garden, I cook…"

The older boy shook his head, twisting to look more closely at her. "I'm talking about realfun. The kind that steals your breath away. The kind that you forget where you are and what you're supposed to be doing. The kind that makes your sides hurt and you're crying from the laughter." An off kilter smirk had formed on his face.

It occurred to Riza that her heart was fluttering wildly in her chest. She found herself smiling back. "Like what?" she asked, a little timidly. Roy jumped to his feet and reached out to her. Riza grasped his hand and stood. "Do you know how to swim?"

The young blonde furrowed her brow. "Of course I know how to swim, why do you – MR. MUSTANG!"

The last thing she saw before she hit the water was Roy's devilish expression. The water was cold, and she kicked to the surface, fully intending on telling the boy how she felt about his recent actions. She broke the surface just as the dark haired apprentice plunged into the lake next to her. She was hit with another wave of water and she sputtered like a wet cat.

He popped back up, shaking his head to get the water out. Riza shoved her hands in the water, splashing him. Roy laughed and looked at her in anticipation. "What was the purpose of that? We are in our clothes. We don't have towels, Mr. Mustang!"

"Roy."

Riza paused, pursing her lips. Roy shrugged. "I have determined that you don't have nearly as much childish, immature fun in your life. So for now, let's drop all the semantics. It's just Roy right now, okay?" His voice had dropped a note, and it made Riza feel all tingly. It could also be from the cold water. She wasn't really sure anymore.

Silently and only slightly unwillingly, she humored him. After all, father did tell her to make his apprentices feel at home. Maybe this was Mr. Mustang's version of 'at home.' During the next hour, she splashed, jumped, tickled, and swam around with the young alchemist. For once in her life, she didn't feel stifled. She was completely absorbed with the feel of the water against her skin, the occasional brush of the older boy's fingers on her hips as he tossed her off the dock. When they lay in the grass at the end of the day, their chests heaving, she never felt more like a kid. The wild, gleeful look on her friend's face assured her he hadn't, either.

The walk back to the Hawkeye household was a leisurely one. But the further they got from the cool depths of the lake, the more reserved they both felt. By the time dinner was ready, they had settled back into their respectful roles. As she put away leftovers and Roy worked on the dishes, he flicked a single, soapy splash of water at her. Briefly, she saw the adventurous boy she had spent the afternoon with. It was a silent promise that they would go again. Just for a few hours, they would pretend they didn't have bigger obligations. They could simply forget themselves.

(Part 2: Nightmares)

Roy jerked awake to a hoarse scream and a thrashing body. His lieutenant had jerked upwards, her body lit by the pale moonlight. He saw a flash of light and noticed her hand was clamped down on her handgun. Glassy amber eyes met his and her face contorted into pain as the nightmares gave way to reality. "It's just me, Hawkeye. You're alright," he murmured. His fingers closed over hers. After a moment, she let go of the weapon, taking in her surroundings. The hotel room was hardly something to call cozy, but it was private. Roy had fallen asleep in the chair next to the bed, the box of medical supplies and burn kit still open on the night stand between them.

It had only been three days since he destroyed the essential parts of her father's research. He still had trouble looking at the burns. No matter what she said, he still felt a wave of nausea knowing he was the cause of them. The nights had been long and neither one had been able to sleep well. Riza tried to settle back down onto the bed, the bandages on her back taut and stretched thin over her pale skin. She sighed heavily, her breath a little uneven. They didn't discuss her nightmares. Roy suspected they were much like his own – riddled with ruined cities and dying men with eyes as red as the blood they had spilled.

He shifted in his seat, wishing he knew the right words to say. Instead he chose to clean up the gauze and medication they had left open and stood to go back to his room. They had purchased two rooms in a seedy hotel on their way back to Central. There was still two weeks of leave left before they had to return and were taking advantage of the time they had. It wasn't quite the vacation he'd wanted, but things rarely went according to plan.

"Roy, wait."

Roy turned, catching her gaze again. She hadn't used his first name since they were children. It sounded unnatural, foreign. "Please, stay," she pleaded. Her hand reached towards him, her fingers trembling. It was so unlike her that it caught him off guard. He set everything down and crossed back to her, his hand twining with hers. She used his weight to pull herself back up into a sitting position. Roy caught the sharp intake of breath that signaled she had pulled the wounds. She gingerly shifted to give him room on the bed. Riza pressed her hand against his face, as if to make sure he was real, and let her fingers graze over his cheek, his neck, the flat expanse of his chest. Roy briefly wondered if she could feel his heart racing underneath his shirt.

She clenched her fist shut and slumped forward, her forehead resting dully against his shoulder.

"Hawkeye – Riza, I-"

"You promised."

Roy stuttered, his hand tightening its hold over hers. "Promised what?" Did she realize how she smelled? Like lavender soap and gun oil and something so distinctly her. Did she realize how deeply she affected him?

"That you would make Amestris a better place. You'll do it, won't you?"

The dark haired boy, no, he was a man now, eased his childhood friend back, frowning. "Yes. I will. You will be right behind me, making sure I never stray from the path. I can't do it without you."

She didn't say anything for a long time, simply searching his dark eyes for something. Roy slid his fingers through her cropped hair, pressing his lips against her forehead. He could only think about how dangerous this was. The two of them, together, it was impossible. Their dreams for the country wouldn't allow it. If they were caught-

Her back quivered and he felt the start of hot tears against him. His throat constricted and he pulled her into him, careful to avoid her back. His cheek found a rest against the top of her golden head and he shut his eyes, sighing. Roy lost track of how long they stayed like that, silent and unmoving. They didn't have to talk or explain what they felt. They knew. The alchemist knew her more intimately than any other person. She was as much a part of him as he was her.

Eventually, Riza's breath deepened and evened out. She had slipped into a very light doze. He doubted she would fall back into any kind of deep sleep, not tonight, but he was thankful she had found some sort of rest. Roy shifted, letting her body align closer to his. He was briefly overwhelmed with the amount of trust she placed him. She believed in him – in their shared dream. In this moment, she felt so small, so fragile. There was still part of her that was the shy, reserved girl from their youth. She needed him. He needed her. Gods, he needed her.

Tomorrow, they would have to go back to being the perfect professionals. They would pick up their careful dance like nothing had changed. No stray touches, no lingering glances. All "Colonel" and "Lieutenant" with nothing to suggest this night had happened. But tonight, just this once, in the waning light of the moon, he allowed himself to forget. He forgot about the laws and wars and bloodshed that kept them apart. Everything was her. The smell of her, the sound of her soft breath and the pressure of her body tucked so perfectly in his embrace. In the darkness of this tiny hotel room, he let himself give way to his heart.

As he found himself falling asleep, he found his resolve. After this was over, when they finished this idea of a new Amestris, he would pursue this second dream – a life with her. He wasn't sure yet how he would do it, but then again, he had always been known for being ambitious.

(Part 3: Drunk!Riza)

Lovingly ripped off of taylortot's Drunk!Riza post. Just go to her tumblr and you will find it. It's great.

Riza Hawkeye never particularly cared for alcohol. When most young women turned of age, they would have a huge celebration with friends. When Riza turned of age, she was in the middle of the Ishval, lying in a crumbling bell tower and taking out Ishvalan rebels.

The next few years she was too absorbed in her work to ever partake in the social habit. It didn't surprise her, then, when Rebecca Catalina decided to take her out for her birthday. All of the sharpshooter's arguments on how impractical it was and how she had more important things to go fell on deaf ears. So, that night, Hawkeye somehow found herself standing in front of her closet while Rebecca cleaned one of her new handguns. "I like the blue one. With the slit? I didn't even know you owned that one," Rebecca commented offhandedly, methodically wiping down her pieces.

"Who else are you inviting, Rebecca? And where exactly are we going?"

Catalina chuckled. "I'm not hauling you off to prison, Ri, just calm down. I swear, after we pop your alcohol cherry, we needto find you a man. When's the last time you've been laid? Hm, where's my wire brush?"

The brunette pointedly ignored her best friend's deadpan look as she picked up the long handled brush and handed it to her. "Here. I don't need a man, I need a different best friend. Is this acceptable?"

Rebecca looked up from cleaning her gun's barrel and grinned. "Ri, you look hot. But grab a sweater or something, it might get cold later on. Or not, it might attract a lovely beau." Riza sighed and pulled a long-sleeved purple sweater to wear over the gray lace tank top. "I can't believe I still hang out with you."

Despite her arguing, Riza was thankful to spend time with the woman. Their conversation was always easygoing. She never had to force small talk. They got to the bar after the sun had set, and Rebecca wasted no time in getting Riza to try all manner of drinks.

She tried a minty concoction with rum while Rebecca scouted out the attractive men in the bar. They talked about the newest models of rifles over margaritas. Riza politely declined a young man's offer to dance while she sipped on a whiskey sour. Riza was halfway through some kind of drink with vodka (Sex on the Sand? Sex on the Beach? ) when she heard a startled laugh from behind her. "Riza Hawkeye?"

Riza turned, vaguely aware that the world lagged about half a second behind her. She giggled when she realized her barstool could spin and took a moment to wiggle back and forth on the seat. Belatedly, she remembered that she had turned to talk to someone and looked back up. Jean Havoc stood there, his hands on his hips and a huge grin on his face.

"Oh, hic, Havoc, where're you doing, I mean what're you doing here? Is something wrong?" she asked, racking her hazy mind to think if she had forgotten anything from work this afternoon. Havoc took a drag on his cigarette and shook his head, laughing like a small child. "Everything's fine, Lieutenant."

"Then why'd you get here? Did Re- oops! Rebecca? Did she ask you to come? How'd you know it was my birthday? Where's your uniform?" Riza couldn't figure out why she was so talkative all of the sudden, or why she nearly knocked over her drink. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she remembered that loss of motor control was a side effect of drinking. That would've irritated her if she stopped long enough to really care. Besides, the barstool was so much funto spin on. Why hadn't Rebecca told her before?

Jean Havoc's eyebrows seemed like they were going to disappear into his hairline. He slid into a barstool next to her and leaned on the counter, admiring the blonde woman. "Well, I'll be damned! Happy birthday! Believe it or not, Lieutenant, not all of us stay at work all the time. I was just here for a couple drink with Must- Oh, okay, let's not spin anymore. You don't want to wear your drink. Where's Catalina? I'm assuming she's the one babysitting you?"

The woman in question arrived as if on cue, placing a hand on Riza's shoulder. "Oh! Havoc! I didn't know this was one of your watering holes! Are you here with anyone?" Rebecca asked, moving Riza's drink just out of reach. Hawkeye grumbled in protest, leaning forward to catch the straw between her teeth. She giggled again, feeling proud of herself. Who says alcohol gives you poor motor control? Riza was doing just fine.

"Ah, oh, yeah. I'm actually meeting the Colonel here."

The two exchanged a look and then turned to the drunk blonde as she rolled the small straw around with her tongue. "Oh, this should be interesting." Riza sat up, spinning around in her seat to look at the both of them. "Rebecca, I've been thinking. This Sex on the Sand-"

"Sex on the Beach, Ri."

"That's what I said. Aaanyways, this Sex on the Sand is reallygood. Like, as good as sex.I'think that's why they named it that. Havoc, plug yer ears. Yer too young to hear this..well not too young, but I'm an officer, an' it's not 'ppropriate. So, anyway, I've been thinking, if the Sex on the Sand is that good, then I should have another Sex on the Sand.But like, the real kind.Not the drink kind."

Rebecca spared a glance at Havoc, who looked like he wasn't sure if he should be shocked or amused. She smirked and patted Riza on the shoulder. "You're finally starting to understand where I'm coming from. Shall we find you a guy?"

Riza held up her hand, frowning in concentration. "Wait. 'Becca. 'm I too drink? I mean drunk? I 'ave to be on my A Game." Rebecca nodded, giving Riza a mock serious expression.

"You're absolutely right, Ri. You don't sound drunk. I'm going to find you someone. Just- just sit here."

Riza went back to spinning slightly in her seat, bouncing pick-up lines off the bartender who seemed thoroughly unimpressed. Havoc sipped his drink and continued to watch the sharpshooter demonstrate just how littlehe knew about the woman. Riza was just finishing the last of her beverage when she heard someone walk up and greet Havoc. She peered over her empty glass and came face-to-face with Roy Mustang.

A delighted giggle spilled over her lips, bringing the dark eyed alchemist's focus to her. He had expected to see Havoc with a girl already. He did not, however, anticipate seeing his adjutant easing out of her seat with her sweater dipping down her shoulder suggestively. Her eyes glinted and she stepped directly into his personal space. A slow, teasing grin curled her lips. He immediately smelled the strong smell of alcohol on her breath.

"Lieutenant, are you…"

"Hey, Col….hic…Colonel."

Roy shot an accusatory glance at Havoc, who raised his hands in defense. Roy turned his attention back to the woman whose hands were roaming his forearms. "I've been practicing, Colonel. Havoc thinks I'm very good." The glare sent towards the man at the bar was much more sinister the second time. Jean's face flushed and he slapped his hand over his face. "Pick-up lines. She's been practicing pick-up lines, sir."

The Colonel took a half step back, trying to add some professional distance between him and the woman. He was dismayed when she took another step forward. This was notwhat he had been expecting this evening. He had a hard enough time resisting the woman when they were both sober. She was dangerously close to breaking protocol.

"Hey, Colonel. You know how you are useless when you're wet?" Roy froze as Riza's fingers hooked into the belt loops on his pants, pulling him closer to her. Her eyes trailed down his chest and let out a terribly exaggerated sigh.

"Well I'm not."

Oh my god, what the hell.Roy was doing his best to ignore the rising heat that crept onto his face. He pried her hands from his pants, only succeeding in getting her arms thrown over his shoulders. Her body was flush against him now. Oh my god, Hawkeye, don't do this to me here.

"Lieutenant, I think we should get you to bed."

She giggled, a sound he was decidedly uncomfortable with hearing from his normally serious Lieutenant. "You'd li…hic…like that wouldn't you? I can tellyou would." It was then Catalina showed up, her eyes wide in panic. Roy was never so thankful to see the woman. She grasped the inebriated blonde by the shoulder. "Oh, Ri, you could do better."

Roy started, narrowing his eyes at the weapons expert. She pulled Riza off of him, despite her protests. "I mean, he's an alchemist. I bet he doesn't even know howto use his gun." Havoc started laughing, not missing the innuendo.

I rescind that last thought. She's the worst.

"I know how to use my gun just fine!Better than fine, thank you. Dammit, what am I saying…" he retorted, straightening his shirt. He could reallyuse that drink now. Before he could even make it to the bar, Rebecca yelped and Riza had sauntered back over. Her hands touched his face, the calloused fingers splaying across his lips. "Shhhhh, itssss okay, if you don't know how to handle your gun, Colonel. I'm an expert gun handler."

Roy was incredulous. Riza looked so satisfied with herself.

She is making this sohard. Gods, what is she doing now?Dear god.

Normally, Roy was excellent at evasive maneuvers. He prided himself on knowing all sorts of strategies and counter attacks to get out of tricky situations. But having his inebriated adjutant sliding his hand up her torso and onto her (Gods they're soft)breast was not on the list of survival situations he'd prepared for. She leaned in, her voice thrumming with pleasure.

"You know what they say about alchemists?" she questioned, her lips leaning in grazing the shell of his ear.

Roy was pretty sure he had never heard anyonesay that about alchemists, but he listened anyways. If she was going for pick-up lines, these were definitely successful. Her fingers tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, sending fire through his chest and down below his abdomen. Her bare thigh slipped out the slit in her skirt and brushed against his pants (which were growing awfully tight the longer he stood there).

If he could think straight, Roy would've overheard Catalina and Havoc discussing the unfortunate situation he was in. He probably would've smacked Havoc for making a joke in such a serious situation. Instead, he felt the hot breath of his very attractive subordinate against his ear and tried to ignore how much she was squirming against him. She sighed, her voice dropping an octave. A thousands eternities passed before she leaned back, her amber eyes thick with emotion.

Before he could blink, she untangled herself from him and whipped around to look for her best friend. Her grin was wide and devilish. "I told you I was good at 'em," she remarked proudly before stumbling sideways a few steps. Rebecca and Roy both reached to steady her at the same time. Riza waved her hand over her shoulder nonchalantly. "Th- hic – Thanks for the practice, Colonel! Mmm…'Becca, I need to find a man. Didya find one already?"

Roy just stood there, still completely flabbergasted over being propositioned by Riza. Rebecca corralled the girl to the dance floor to work off her "excess energy," leaving Havoc to tend to his frazzled friend. The bartender already had two drinks ready for them, shaking his head. It took 3 more to forget the feeling of her tongue darting out against his ear and the slight shift of her hips into his.

Despite Havoc's suggestion of finding another 'friend' to stay with for the night, Roy chose to go home alone. It would take more than some random woman to forget the unmistakable heat his Lieutenant stirred in him. The next day, Riza would show up to work half an hour late, her expression stony and cold. Havoc, who initially thought it would be a great idea to ask her about her night and if she'd done anything fun, was greeted with a stack of paperwork that towered over her head. She shot a single, dark glare at Roy, who kept his head low to his current report.

If anyone noticed the awkward tension between the pair for the next week, or the particularly wide berth the woman gave her superior, they didn't bring it up. There might have been some chatter, but that wasn't uncommon. After all, you know what they say about alchemists.

(Part 4: Lust)

Riza wound her way through the corridors, sweat beading against her temple. The floor shook beneath her boots and the distant sound of an explosion reverberated against her chest.

Colonel Mustang.

The sharpshooter stopped in her tracks, gazing over shoulder. She wanted nothing more than to go back. He needed backup. He needed someone to watch his back. He needed her.

You have a mission to complete.

Riza gathered her resolve, mustering all the military discipline within her. This was not a childhood game. She had a duty, and she would fulfill it. The Colonel could take care of himself. She continued on.

When Lust met them in the white room, Riza felt her stomach drop. Something was off. Something wasn't right. Her skin felt clammy and her pistol felt too heavy in her hand. When Barry fell to pieces by Lust's claws, Riza shifted her stance, ready for the woman's advance.

"Now then, where were we?" Lust teased. "I think I was about to send the Lieutenant to join her superior."

Riza stiffened at the mention of her title. She was about to ask how this woman knew who she was when it sank in.

The candidates. Mr. Gallantry.The Colonel.

"Wait a minute. So when you said you already had to kill someone…" Lust continued her slow walk towards her. The haunting look in her eyes did not change. Riza's blood turned to ice. "It can't be…you didn't…"

Lust grinned.

Everything else ceased to exist.

"You bitch!"

Riza had killed countless people in Ishval. Each shot was a planned, perfected aim. Each kill was calculated in degrees, knots, and the milliseconds between each breath.

This time, she did not breathe. If her heart still beat in her chest, she could not hear it. There were no careful measurements, no planning. The methodical count of how many bullets left in the chamber were drowned out by the screams. Who was screaming? Riza wasn't sure if it was her or someone else entirely. It was a guttural cry – the sound that could chill even the most tempered soul. It didn't matter. All she saw were those two narrowed violet eyes and that shit-eating grin. Hole after hole penetrated Lust's milky white skin, staining the flesh around it with bright crimson splotches. Still, the homunculus didn't fall down.

When her third gun refused to fire, agony ripped through her. It stripped away every meticulously composed layer she had put together. She did not feel the tears as they burned down her face. She did not hear the anguished sobs wrench from her throat as her limbs loosened and her body gave out beneath her. She had failed. She had one job and she had failed him.

The metallic clang of Lust's claws against Al's armor stirred her.

Why is he still here? Can't he see – can't he see how much we've lost?

"Listen, Alphonse. Leave me and save yourself."

"No!"

"RUN."

"I won't!"

"Justgo!"There was nothing left of her. She wasn't worth saving. Why was he still here?

"I won't leave you! I'm sick of watching people die and I can't just sit back and take it anymore! I won't let anyone else get killed! Not when I can protect them!"

Her response stuck in her throat. All she could hear was Roy's voice. Did Alphonse realize how much he sounded like the Colonel when he spoke – so full of passion?

"Well spoken." The world stopped. "I couldn't agree more."

Riza's head whipped up, everything snapping back into focus. The next few seconds stretched and lengthened in her mind. She saw the ruffled head of black hair and matching eyes just before Alphonse's wall of earth divided them. Billows of flame singed the air around them, the heat breathing life into her limbs. She strained to hear him over the roar of the flames, his voice thick with rage and resilience. He was there. He was alive. She'd be damned if she didn't help him now. She screamed to him, praying he would hear her.

Alphonse gripped her as she tried to stand, her muscles aching and straining to do something. Lust's screams unsettled the sharpshooter and she grit her teeth and fought against Alphonse. When the flames stopped, she heard the dying words of the homunculus. It did not matter. That bitch did not matter. It was the pained gasps of her Colonel that lanced her heart and finally got her free of the armored boy's grasp.

She called out to him a second time, breaching the divide and collapsing next to him. It wasn't until she saw breath fill his lungs and his dark eyes meet hers that she could feel her panic subside. There was blood – so much blood– but it did not matter. His voice reached her ears and the corner of his lips quirked upwards as he silently reassured her that he was not that easy to kill. She had another day with him and that thought swallowed her. It filled the valleys of her sorrow and eased the cords of tension that strung her up like a puppet.

A little later, when the medics came to take him away, she would remember that it was inappropriate to let her hands smooth over the scarred planes of his chest. She would remind herself that pressing her head against his shoulder and allowing herself to cry with relief or fear or the lingering nightmare of a life without him wasn't something her fellow officers should see. In a few minutes, when they lifted him onto the stretcher, she would dig her nails into the curve of her thighs so she wouldn't grasp his hand. Because even though no one else could truly understand what the loss of Roy Mustang would do to her, they had roles to play. She told him she'd follow him to hell. Only now was she starting to realize what that meant.