Things were quiet in the office that particular evening. Lieutenant Hawkeye had realized that by five months she had no choice but to surrender to the fact that military uniforms simply were no made for pregnant women. Her choice had been to either wear one several sizes too large or simply come to work in civilian clothing. In what Havoc called a stroke of genius—behind her back, of course—she chose the second option; it seemed the most practical.

The muted scribbling of pens prevailed in the office until Second Lieutenant Breda burst back into the room, dripping with sweat and thoroughly out of breath. For a moment the redhead struggled to catch enough air to speak, and finally, "Colonel Mustang—rebels outside, just a few blocks away—tried to blow up an apartment complex. They need help on the field."

Scrambling was evident as each officer got to their feet, shuffling through desks and grabbing ammunition, protection and whatever else would be necessary in the field. Havoc was thoroughly and properly armed with a sniper rifle and two pistols not to mention quite a bit of spare ammo; Breda had produced several push knives from a drawer somewhere; Fuery had gathered all of his communications equipment and Falman was starting to slip on his jacket when Mustang crossed to Hawkeye's desk.

"Where do you think you are going?"

Hawkeye was reaching for an extra magazine for her gun when Mustang stopped in front of her, his dark gaze powerful and inquisitive. "You can't possibly intend to head out to the field." The words were quick; urgent. They even bordered on panicked, and Mustang was slowly shifting to block her path so to make it impossible for her to leave.

"Well I'm not letting you out into the field without—"

The sharpshooter barely managed to finish her sentence before Mustang gruffly gripped her shoulders with surprising strength, starting to push her downwards. "Lieutenant Hawkeye, your condition does not permit such action, not even mentioning that you are officially off of active duty at this time."

Fuery, Falman and Breda inched towards the door; Havoc hesitated, curious to see what was coming next.

"If you failed to notice, you are not off active duty, sir, nor do you have another person prepared or capable of acting as your aide and guard." Hawkeye's voice was cold enough to sting, the tone surprisingly even as she was going against all of the military protocol she was so keen to uphold.

Mustang glowered, releasing her shoulders and taking half a step away from her. "Pregnant women are not designed for combat!" The words toppled from his mouth faster than he could contemplate them, and Hawkeye also took an irritated step back from him, glaring daggers towards him.

Her gaze immediately shifted to the window, and she nudged his head in the proper direction. "Flame Alchemists are not designed to fight in rainy weather!" True to her nature, the sky was a menacing deep gray, rain threatening to spill at any moment.

"There's plenty of hydrogen and oxygen to use in that rainwater, I'll have you know; have you so little faith in me that you think I did not consider that?!" Mustang sounded particularly offended. Rain was not going to dampen his ability to defend himself. "You are not going out into the field! It's an order!"

"And be responsible if harm should befall you? That is out of the question. I have made my decision." Hawkeye continued to slip the magazine into her coat pocket, stopping only when Mustang reached and snatched the item from her hands.

"No. We can't be responsible for protecting ourselves, you and your unborn child! You'll only become a hindrance."

Hawkeye recoiled as though he had physically struck her, the determined glare on her features replaced with hurt. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she was already pulling weapons from hidden pockets and slamming them onto her desk, face contorted into a powerful grimace. "Take the guns, at least," she murmured, voice sorely lacking in power.

"Riza, wait, I didn't mean that like you've just taken it—"

"You are right, Colonel. Take the guns just as a precaution." She was slowly sifting through the desk, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

"Riza," Mustang said hesitantly, catching her wrist as she moved to hand her final gun to him. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to get hurt. Please go home; I'll see to it that Hughes drops by to make sure you get there safe." Releasing her hand, he rushed to the door—the rest of his team had left already, a fact for which he was grateful. They did not need to hear what he had just said.

"Just stay safe," he murmured finally as he closed the office door behind him.

It had started to rain by the time Maes Hughes made his way into the office to walk Riza home. Roy had run into him just a before leaving, and told him to make sure that she did, at the very least, remain in the office. As he cracked the door, he could see her shadow darting back and forth across the small room; her shoes clicked quietly on the floor as she paced.

"Riza?" Maes quietly closed the door behind him as he walked over to her, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "It's getting late. You should go home. I'll walk you, if you'd like."

The blonde shook her head, instead continuing to walk back and forth, every now and again peering towards the window. "It's pouring out," she mumbled, arms crossed tightly in front of her. "It has been for nearly two and a half hours."

Maes shifted his weight, stepping into her path—it was difficult to follow her movement as she went back and forth as she currently was. "He can take care of himself, you know. He's going to be fine—but I won't be if I don't get you home soon, and in one piece."

Riza looked around the office, letting out a soft sigh. "I think I will wait for him to return here," she said softly, stepping around Maes and continuing her nervous movement.

Frustrated, he caught her arm and tried to stop her. "You'll make yourself sick walking around like that. You'll get yourself all dizzy and—"

She had stiffened suddenly in his grip, amber eyes widening just slightly. For a moment, she stood still before leaning forwards slightly, a hand resting on her stomach, the other hand shakily reaching for something to lean against and finding his shoulder.

"Hey, Riza? Are you okay?"

After an agonizingly long minute, she straightened herself up and closed her eyes, letting out a nervous breath. "I'm all right," she whispered, voice shaking just slightly.

"I don't know... You're very pale," Maes shifted so he could clearly see her face, catching the tinge of green on her features. "You should lie down for a bit." He gave her no chance to protest as he half guided and half shoved her over to the couch, easing her off of her feet. Within another half a moment, he had found a blanket and set it on her lap, as well as a wastepaper basket.

Maes barely had the time to hand the small pail over before she started heaving, emptying the contents of her stomach quite thoroughly into the basket. Her hands were trembling slightly as she held the basket, coughing uncomfortably as she caught her breath.

"You're not all right," the man said sternly, not hesitating to swipe a few strands of hair from her face, forehead now slightly sticky with sweat. Maes looked around the room, finding another blanket for her. "I'll call Gracia and get the number of our doctor—unless you have your doctor's number here?"

Riza nodded slowly, starting to get to her feet before Maes pushed her back to her half-sitting position. She pointed to her desk, "Doctor B…Ballard," she stammered, again pressing a hand hard against her abdomen. She had felt fine just a few moments ago.

"I'm going to use the phone from my office; the rain knocked the telephone lines in here out. I'll be right back, but I don't want you to go anywhere."

For ten minutes, she waited as patiently as she could as her stomach retched and heaved and her abdomen hurt so badly she nearly doubled over in pain. She was trying desperately to stay still, but discomfort brought her to her feet.

She paced around the room, desperately wishing for Roy or Maes or anyone to return; instinct was screaming that something about what she was feeling at the moment was not right. Something was telling her that she and the baby were in danger. Knowing that the telephone lines in her office were down and that she was too uneven on her feet to make it down the hall, she was fully aware of the fact that she would have to wait for help—and panic was starting to set in.

"Riza!"

She froze, turning. Roy was standing in the doorway, drenched, dripping, and at the moment clearly disoriented. His dark eyes tried to adjust to the light in the room, currently only able to make out the woman's form across the room. He stripped his jacket off at the door, trying to make movement easier. When he could finally see, he crossed to her in two brisk steps, brows furrowed. "You're bleeding. What happened? Are you hurt?"

The blonde looked absently at him, dizzy. For a moment, her eyes locked on his, and then she peered down, realizing that she was, in fact, bleeding. Not just a small amount, either—but quite a bit. Her stomach lurched, and she stumbled to the garbage pail that had recently become the receptacle for each meal she had eaten earlier in the day.

Roy crouched beside her, grabbing her shoulders gently and easing her back to her feet. "Where's Maes?"

She rested her hands against his shoulders for balance, vision fading slightly at the edges. "Calling doctor…" Her voice was weak and slightly uneven. Roy had moved to grab her coat when Maes burst back into the office, frowning.

"Doctor Ballard's receptionist said to go straight to the hospital because they said that bleeding could start at any—"

Riza was leaning uncomfortably against Roy's shoulder, hand still pressed against her stomach, the frown on her face deepening at Maes' state of concern.

"At any moment…and that it could be fatal to mother and child."

Author's Notes: I don't know if a cliffhanger makes up for a short chapter, but that's what you get. Sorry guys! I'll be posting a bit quicker as soon as I finish (I'm about '1 month' away from the end, since I'm not certain how many scenes that will be). I want to get this posted completely before I'm really, really caught up in school.

Still dont' own FMA...alas.