A/N: This is edited! Yaaay. I'm working! So I'm going to basically edit all the chapters then get back on the ball with writing new ones.
Music Box: 3: Jazz
Jazz is a tune all its own, going at any beat and any rhythm. Jazz could be lively and Jazz could be sad. Jazz was something original. Roy loved Jazz.
Roy had been sitting in his office, avoiding his too boring paper work as he hummed a little jazzy tune under his breath.
"Sir, you should finish your paperwork." Roy noticed that Riza had slammed her hand on the table to get his attention.
"Lt. Hawkeye, I'm not feeling well enough to continue. In fact I think I have a horrible disease that reacts to touching paperwork. I'll break into hives and I'll start swelling! I might even land in the hospital."
"Either way you'll land in the hospital if you don't do your paperwork or you touch your paperwork. I suggest touching your paperwork would hurt less then a bullet through your side." She simply answered. Roy's eyes widened. She tilted her head in an innocent matter. He gave in.
An hour later, Roy thought 'Strange. Very strange indeed.' Hawkeye didn't even notice the playboy magazine on Roy's desk. He slowly lifted it up behind one of his stacks of finished paperwork. He studied each page with a sharp eye and drooled at the girls.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Roy's magazine and paperwork was ruined with the bullets that had been shot. Roy whimpered and Hawkeye glared at him. "If you want hookers sir, go to a bar. If you want your life, please continue your paperwork." Hawkeye stated coldly and then added after a moment's thought, "Sir."
"Hawkeye, I don't need hookers. I need girls in mini-skirts, co-workers especially." Roy smirked arrogantly. Riza looked at him before responding.
"I am sure Havoc, Falman, Breda, and Cain will wear mini-skirts if you issue it. I could enter a brief conversion with the men about your orders." She said, amused at what Roy's attempt at a comeback might be like.
"Do you enjoy listening to Jazz, Lt. Hawkeye?" Hawkeye was thrown back by this question. It was so off topic and Roy grinned at the surprise displayed on her face.
"Well, sir I believe I do like music. So the answer is yes, I do like Jazz."
"Have you ever felt like Jazz?" Roy was advanced towards her in a very elegant matter. Something didn't feel right. Not at all.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, sir. Please explain yourself." Five feet……Two feet…six inches…..and a bit too close for Riza's comfort. Roy smiled as if he knew that he had invaded Riza's personal space.
"I see. Maybe I'll have to show you something about Jazz." He was close, very close. Riza needed to get away.
"Sir, I think it will be best if we cancel these Jazz lessons of yours and apply ourselves to the paperwork that needs our attention." Riza replied as Roy pulled back from her and headed for his desk.
'She is something isn't she?' Roy thought to himself. 'Her answers are so original.'