The next morning brought about Riza's first doctor's appointment strictly involving the health of the baby. Doctor Bethune himself recommended the obstetrician, one Martha Ballard, a kindly old woman who was informed of the precarious circumstances in advance. Roy was adamant that he attend the appointment with her, and Riza was feeling so ill to her stomach she had no viable protest.
"Good morning, Miss Hawkeye…and who is this gentleman?" Ballard's eyes glistened, her expression clearly showing her pleasure that Riza was not alone.
"Roy Mustang. We've been working together for years." Roy was the one to get the statement out first as Riza was sitting painfully still, a hand resting against her stomach.
"You're just a bit pale—are you all right?" Ballard crossed her arms, waiting for a response. When none came, she bent slightly so her face was directly in Riza's line of vision. "Is your stomach bothering you, dear?" Her response was a tense nod. "All right then, the restroom is right there if you need it. Would you like me to—"
Ballard jumped out of the way of the young blonde, watching her disappear into the restroom. For all of two seconds, Roy hesitated and then followed, cracking the door slightly and peering in before quickly entering the room.
"Why didn't you say you weren't feeling well?!"
Kneeling on the tile floor was not the most comfortable position, and Riza irritably waved a hand in Roy's general direction to dismiss him as her stomach heaved. Gingerly, he scooped up her hair, holding it off of her shoulders and free from her face.
"Gracia—told me—that—" Roy cringed each time, trying to tune out the noises where Riza paused, "—being nauseous—is normal." Pausing only to gasp for air, she was trying to shoo Roy away again, her other hand braced for balance against the floor.
For a good ten minutes, she remained as still as she possibly could spare when she leaned over to empty her stomach. Roy stood behind her, nervously close and gentle, offering her a hand up and a mint when her stomach settled. Riza's pale cheeks were flushed crimson as she murmured her thanks. Doctor Ballard was waiting outside and wordlessly lead them down the hall to the last exam room. Inside, she pulled out a chair for Roy and helped Riza situate herself on the small exam cot.
"I hear you've had a rough time of things," Ballard offered slowly. "I don't want to concern you but circumstantially that puts you at high risk for several complications." The doctor frowned, seeing her patient shudder slightly at the comment. "But don't you worry about a thing, darling. We're going to take real good care of you."
Riza left the appointment clearly bothered. Doctor Ballard chose to side with Roy, agreeing that she shouldn't work too much due to the uncanny and unhealthy conception. Furthermore, Ballard argued that working as a bodyguard and personal aide to a State Alchemist in the military posed certain health risks for both mother and child. Despite protests from the blonde sharpshooter, both her doctor's and commanding officer's orders left her off any sort of field duty until after the birth of the child. Ballard conceded on allowing her to continue working in the office only three days a week with shortened hours.
Irritated might have been the best way to describe Riza's mood when she arrived at the Hughes' door around 1200 hours.
"Oh! Hello Riza, what are you doing here? Maes told me that you were told to stay in bed. Has that changed?" Gracia smiled, and little Elysia popped her head out the door, green eyes widening in surprise.
"Auntie Riza!" Pushing her way past her mother, the girl reached out and hugged Riza's knees. Irritated mood dissipating immediately at the sight of the pig-tailed three-year-old, Riza crouched down and scooped up the child. "Hello sweetheart."
"Put her down, Riza, you shouldn't be toting around a three-year-old!" Gracia grumbled.
Riza smiled slightly, "It's all right Gracia. How are you?"
"I'm good! Mommy tolded me that you got sick! Do you feel betters now? I has somethin' for you!" Elysia scrambled and tugged and fidgeted her way out of Riza's grip and then disappeared into the house. She returned a few moments later with a piece of yellow construction paper folded in the shape of a card. There was a large red heart colored in red on the front of the card, along with what could easily be an entire box of macaroni glued to the front. "I maded you a feel better card!" Beaming, Elysia offered the card upwards.
Riza quietly considered the card, looking it over. She was careful when opening it because Heaven forbid she disturb the macaroni. Amber eyes flitted over the scrawled writing that looked more like practiced scribbles—Auntie Riza, feel betters! Love lots Elysia—and she couldn't help but smile. "Thank you."
Gracia looked between the two, inherently picking up on the discomfort, and then stepped aside. "Don't stand outside, you'll catch your death of a cold." Elysia immediately did as her mother told, and Riza hesitated. "Come on, in, in you go—" the mother was not hesitant to grab Riza's arm and pull her into the house.
In the sitting room, Elysia went on and on about her little three-year-old life while her mother prepared tea. As only a child so young could do, Elysia shortly grew tired of explaining her life and instead chose to crawl into Riza's lap, propping her head against the woman's knee and rubbing her eyes. She was getting sleepy, she explained.
"I heard Mommy and Daddy says that yous are gonna have a baby." Thankfully, the girl was oblivious to the tension of her human pillow. "Is Uncle Roy gonna be the baby's daddy, like Daddy is my daddy?"
Riza immediately glanced towards the kitchen, desperate for Gracia to return. "No," she mumbled slowly. "I'm not going to take care of the baby myself. I can't. And Uncle Roy is not and will not be the baby's father."
Elysia yawned, turning her head. "Oh." She resituated herself so her forehead was pressed against Riza's stomach, small fingers entwined in the fabric of the woman's sweater. "You and Uncle Roy would be a good mommy and daddy I thinks…"
Absently, she chose to disregard this statement, running her fingers through Elysia's hair. The child's green eyes slowly, slowly drooped closed, her breathing slowing, finally falling to sleep. Quietly, Gracia returned, two cups of tea at hand. She set them on the table, smiling tiredly at the two. "I'm sorry about that…Elysia usually has her nap around now anyway. I'll bring her upstairs."
Carefully Gracia disentangled her daughter from Riza's lap and propped the little head against her shoulder. When the child stirred, Gracia soothed her quietly, starting up the stairs. For five minutes, Riza sat alone, looking at the cup of tea, watching the steam rise. Something hurt but it wasn't the physical sort of thing; Elysia had managed to grab her still-healing fingers and bury her little head directly into the few broken ribs she had, but they weren't what caused the pain.
"Are you all right?"
Snapped from her reverie, Riza looked up, startled. "Hm?"
Gracia slowly sank into the seat beside her. "Are you all right? You looked a bit distracted. Did Elysia hurt you by lying on your lap?"
"No, not at all," Riza replied quietly, hands folded in her lap just slightly. "Just thinking, that's all."
"What about?" Gracia leaned forwards, grabbing her own cup of tea and forcing the one she had made for Riza into the other woman's hands—"you should drink that, it will help your stomach." Riza's look of confusion only made her laugh, "what? Do you think I couldn't tell? I sat just as still as that when my stomach hurt. Just drink the tea."
Smiling wearily, Riza took a slow sip of the tea. "Thanks."
For a short while, Gracia allowed Riza to enjoy the quiet, watching the shorter blonde slowly loosen up, the tension dissipating. The look of discomfort also began to vanish from the sharpshooter's features, and Gracia inwardly smiled, pleased with this result.
"What's on your mind?" leaning back in the seat, Gracia placed her teacup on the table, folding her arms.
Riza visibly hesitated, quickly placing her cup on the table as well, her gaze flitting to the stairs, the table, the cups and the floor before finally resting on the fringe of one of the pillows on the couch. "Elysia asked if Roy and I were going to take care of the baby like you and Maes take care of her."
"Oh, Riza, I'm sorry…I don't know how she found out. We never told her—"
"She said she heard you talking about it. I told her that we were not going to, and that Roy is not the baby's 'daddy' like Maes is hers." The blonde folded her hands tightly in her lap, gaze again fixated on the floor. "I don't suppose Maes has told you this but I'm going to put the child up for adoption."
Gracia visibly hesitated, uncertain. Her eyes flitted across the room, moving towards the stairs and possibly tracing the steps she had just taken with her daughter in her arms. "No, he hadn't."
Riza's jaw tightened at the look of misunderstanding on Gracia's face, clenching her right fist. "I couldn't look at their faces again, Gracia," she finally mumbled, amber eyes softening. "I couldn't live with seeing one of them every day for the rest of my life. The child being my flesh alone could never separate the ties that they would have to…them."
The silence was deafening, pulsating as Gracia processed the explanation she had been given. She fingered her teacup, allowing herself time to grasp what her friend had said. In retrospect, she knew that her surprised reaction had been far from the appropriate response—now easily recognized by the disconcerted look on the blonde's face.
Hesitantly, she placed a hand on Riza's knee atop the tightened fist. Her voice wavered slightly, feeling liquid fill in at the creases of her eyes, threatening to spill. "It's the right thing," she said slowly, squeezing the woman's hand gently, "it's your decision, and you're right. No matter how much that child is yours, they will always be theirs too…" The brunette hesitated, swallowing nervously. "I just always wanted to be able to congratulate you for when you became pregnant, Maes as well. I suppose that's partially because the both of us always assumed that the father would be Roy."
"You're angry about the doctor's orders." That evening, Riza was cooking dinner in Roy's kitchen—she had at least insisted upon helping as much as she could since Roy had wanted her in his sight as often as possible.
"No," she murmured softly. "More your intervention." She shuffled about the small kitchen with ease, having been preparing dinner there for weeks, more often than not lighter dishes that were easier on her stomach. Roy didn't mind; he was happy with the nicely prepared dinners that he was not accustomed to having.
Roy winced, seeing her heading for the cabinet and quickly grabbing the colander for her. "I suppose that you'll be displeased with the fact that she telephoned me at the office this afternoon while you went to the Hughes'."
From his vantage point, he saw her tense, her fingers tightening around the pot of pasta she was holding. Her uncomfortable stance bothered him; carefully he crossed over to her to her, resting a hand against her shoulder. He winced when he felt her muscles tighten beneath his palm. "You still don't want to be touched," he remarked quietly, frowning. "You know that you're safe here…I won't hurt you."
"I know," she replied, her gaze darkening as the pot of water boiled as she stirred. "I know that. The reaction is just so instinctive now," the tired woman swallowed, closing her eyes. "What did Doctor Ballard want you for?"
Roy swallowed. "She wanted to know where you were currently staying. I explained the situation and she decided that you can't stay alone."
"She decided this, or you?" Riza asked sternly, frowning.
"Well, she suggested that this was the ideal situation. Strongly suggested, at that." He uncomfortably looked to the floor, turning her so her features were visible. "I don't want you where I can't see you."
The phrase sounded oddly possessive. Riza seemed taken aback by this and shifted her eyes to the far wall. Instinctively Roy gripped her tighter heart racing. Both hands held her shoulders. "Riza, look at me."
The woman was hesitant to oblige and instead closed her amber eyes. Infuriated, he shook her shoulders slightly, the jarring motion causing the spoon in her left hand to clatter unceremoniously to the floor. "Roy, don't—"
"I have to be able to see that you're safe," he murmured, the fact admitted so abjectly that he almost seemed ashamed of it. "Everything that's happened in the past few months—I need to see you to be certain. Please, Riza. Humor me. Just allow me that." The desperation in his hands was no less evident when he released her shoulders, hands now resting protectively around her waist.
"Roy…"
Pale hands were trembling as she gingerly rested them atop his, the panic vanishing from her amber eyes. The response did little to appease him, and he only tightened his fingers slightly, solidifying his point.
"Trust me. You always have." Roy kept his hands safely against her waist, finally managing to meet her gaze. "Allow me a moment of frailty?"
She hesitated before submitting with a small nod.
"Riza—when you were missing, I was worried. That you might have already been killed and abandoned at the roadside, that I hadn't done everything I could for you. I want to redeem myself. Finding you the way I did was painful. You have to recognize that you are more than just a subordinate to me—you are a very dear friend. I can't lose you…"
Her voice was small when she finally conjured up a response. "I know that I am…you must know that the reverse is true as well but Roy—"
Partway through the sentence, she was silenced when his lips crushed into hers, desperate and passionate. His fingers found their way into her hair, and he could feel weight growing on his chest as she leaned against him. Slowly, he separated himself from her, obsidian eyes tinged with a mixture of concern and pleasure; longing and fear. To his surprise, she slid her head against his shoulder, her breath tickling along his jaw-line as his arms encircled her back, feeling the slight hiccupping of her chest as she cried.
"It's all right," he murmured, nose tilted into the cornflower yellow tresses. "I'm here."
Author's Notes: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up; expect them to slow down a bit because school just started and I'm a little stressed with all that.