This was an alternate ending inspired by one of TWO, count 'em, TWO reviews.
I'm not exactly sure of what the hell I was thinking, but I KNOW I wasn't high--I'm not allowed. :( So anyways, this little tidbit starts from when Roy finds Bradley and RIza at the top of the steps.
Hope you enjoy my creative morbidity. I feel depressed now. :'( For future reference, I don't really like this ending. -- It was a pain in the ass to write. I wasn't sure how to FINISH it; you'll see what I mean at the end. Slightly (coughbullshitcough) AU.
"Sir, you are lucky as hell no one else knows about you two..." Havoc braked the buggy and stared hard at Mustang. "How long do you think it's going to be before someone WAY up there finds out? And when the hell are you going to get your OWN car?!"
"Knowing my luck, they already know. And I'm not--because you're dependable." Mustang smiled and pulled on his hat. "Thanks for the ride, Lieutenant."
"But--" Havoc's reply was cut off by the slamming of the door. "DAMMIT!!" The lieutenant cursed to himself and the horn.
Riza Hawkeye was still recovering from her wounds--which meant she was not technically in the military, but she wasn't out either. Their trysts could be as public as they wanted them to be and higher command couldn't do a damn thing; they kept quiet, though. They both knew that she had maybe nine months at the least, a year at the most before she was expected to go back to full duty, but neither cared. Live for the day, Mustang had said when he and Riza first made love. Just thinking about stripping her down, slowly covering her mouth with kisses while she undid his pants gave him a huge erection; he put his folder in front of it to conceal the bulge from the public.
It had been four months ago when he had taken her home after the doctor checked her out. She would make a full recovery physically; mentally, she was never injured. Mustang had taken her to her apartment and she invited him in for coffee and things evolved from there. Two days and two very sore sets of legs later, Mustang left to go back to work--lucky it had been the weekend. He had come back later that night after surrepitously doing some research on whether or not she would get into trouble; he already knew that he would be ear deep in trouble if he was caught.
But WHEN Riza returned to active duty, she would be questioned and examined on her physical health. If the sheepskin failed... Regardless, that was a year into the future; anything could happen. One of them could get out of the military, both could find that they don't give a damn about what higher thought... any number of things.
Mustang walked to the door, which was opened a crack. It usually was; Riza had just moved into this townhouse and had not yet figured out the autolock mechanism. Riza would be upstairs and, with her acute senses, be frantically throwing clothes under the bed, in the closet, anything to get them out of sight. Not that he cared; it was endearing that she would go to such lengths as to be cleanly for him.
But something made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The telephone call earlier, on a private line, a shaky, seemingly scared voice. "Roy, you should come over... sooner than later, honey. We need to talk."
Is she pregnant? Did we do something and forget protection one time other than the first time? Roy recounted the last few times they had made love. No, no, he distinctly remembered putting on the sheepskin...except for that one other time in the shower... but she had just finished her cycle... supposedly she couldn't get pregnant... His head was a whirl of emotions. If she WAS, what would happen...? The military would no doubt ask who the father was since she was unmarried. If she was--and she would be-- forced to point the rightful finger at him, they both would be in a horrible bureaucratic mess.
On the other hand, a little Roy or Riza would bring much needed to joy to his life. He could just abandon his ambition for the Presidency and be free to raise a family with the woman he loved. So what if they were both kicked out? The military could not prevent them from getting other jobs. Riza had always wanted to be a teacher... she would make a lovely one.
Something absolutely random popped into his head: a metallic sound as she spoke shakily into the phone... somewhat like... "Oh God, RIZA!" The sound in the background had been a sword being drawn. As Roy dashed up the stairs, he tugged on his reactive glove and pulled out his pistol. Even during love sessions, his--and her--pistol had been in reach. These were still dangerous times...
The stairs were fashioned so that one would climb to the top of them and be facing the wall; Roy would have to turn to his left and walk down the hall to get to Riza's bedroom. He walked backwards up the stairs, using the wall to his advantage so he could not be caught off-guard.
A figure stood in the shadows; Roy realized that the only light came from the open door--Riza's bedroom-- where she had not yet put up curtains. Roy saw two sets of legs; one female and one male. The voice was chillingly familiar... "Stop right there, Mustang."
The hair on Roy's neck stood straight at attention. "President Bradley?!"
The Fuhrer President walked forward out of the shadows, Riza held in front of him by her throat. "Put that thing down, Colonel; someone might get hurt." As if to emphasize the point, Bradley poked the point of his sword into Riza's side; she gasped. It was then that Roy realized that her hands were bound in front of her, sandwiched between her and Bradley's bodies.
"What do you want?" Roy deliberately left off any titles.
"You both have been a thorn in my--OUR-- side since you transferred to Central, Mustang." Bradley gripped Riza tighter around the neck, causing the woman to gasp. "You both need to be dealt with and since there is no one competent or willing to, I have to do this myself."
"Let her go, Bradley; this is between you and me." Roy kept his pistol trained on Bradley's head.
"On the contrary; this involves all three of us..." Bradley threw Riza forward, then charged both soldiers, two swords drawn. Roy pushed Riza out of the path of the swords and into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. He ducked Bradley's slash and dodged the follow up while thrusting a fist towards the President's stomach.
It connected, momentarily stunning Bradley, but giving enough time for Roy to launch a kick to Bradley's midsection.
Inside her bedroom, Riza immediately went to work freeing herself from her bonds. Once free, she located her extra pistol and locked and loaded, slipping the extra magazine into the pocket of her sweatpants. The door splintered with a crash as Bradley flew through it, followed by Mustang. The younger man threw himself on top of the older and proceeded to pummel his face with blows.
It lasted only seconds; Bradley's blind punch connected with Mustang's formerly injured kidney, knocking the colonel off of the President. As Roy staggered back away from Bradley, Riza let loose three rounds into the President's chest. The heavy calibur rounds sent the man flying into the wall. He hit with a groan, then slumped and fell face forward onto the floor.
"Roy...?" Riza kept her firearm trained on the President's still form until she was sure that he wasn't getting up. He didn't look like he was; all three rounds had exploded his heart. She lowered the gun and turned to Roy. "What the hell do we do now?" She demanded out of pure confusion.
"I'm here... I'm fine. Good shots..." Roy grimaced as he he glanced down. "We need to get out of here... I'll call the police; you get packed."
"Got it--aah?!" Riza glanced down at the pain in her chest to find a sword tip peeking out from under her left breast and another from just under her heart. "...Roy--?!" she gasped before the point was yanked out. She fell with a soft cry of pain, holding the wound, onto her side, then rolling over onto her back to see her assailant. The last thing she saw was the point of a blade going through her throat, pinning her to the floor...
Fuhrer President King Bradley stood above her, holding one sword as it dripped blood onto the carpet and the other as a cane through Riza's throat to get to his feet. "I can't tell you how much that hurt to do that; she was a fine woman." He twisted it, as if an afterthought and ripped the sword out.
"RIZA!" Roy went for his pistol and fired the entire magazine into Bradley's head and chest, tears streaming down his face. Bradley jerked back, but did not fall. Several images induced themselves in Roy's brain: Lust, the Ourobouros tattoo, Maes Hughes' death... "You're a Homonculus, too?!"
"Very observent, Colonel." Bradley lifted up his eye patch. There, Roy faintly saw... the Ourobouros tattoo. "Now it's your turn to die..."
Another image flashed through Roy's brain: Lust burning... "If you are a Homonculus..." He raised his right hand and snapped, several times. Bradley's eyes widened in panic, but Roy did not notice it through his grief and anger and the flames... He did not stop snapping until, like Lust, Bradley was a pile of bones. And, like Lust, a red stone fell and shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, fading from existance into the carpet.
Mustang did not notice; he fell to his knees at Riza's side. The woman's eyes were half open, opaque and still. Her mouth was slightly open as well; a trickle of blood flowed from one corner to puddle beneather her neck. She was gone now and Roy Mustang knew that she would not come back. "Riza..." Slowly, gently, he lifted her head so that he cradled her against him, sobbing into her neck. His left hand held her head while his right held her waist as he held her and let out the cry of a man that had lost everything.
That was how the police found him an hour late, alerted by online neighbors concerned by the multiple gunshots.