A/N: I was waiting for my torrents to finish downloading, and I want my day to be productive, so I wrote this update. XD

Disclaimer: If I own FMA, I would probably be rich. XD

Gunshot

Roy woke up with the sound of a gunshot.

He did not realize that he fell asleep while reading the last chapter of Alchemy for Beginners, the book that Master Hawkeye told him to read and understand before he will be taught by him himself this early afternoon. The title of the book may sound like it was a very easy-to-read material, but titles can be deceiving. Complicated words and equations, it made his head ache even by just thinking about it. It would be embarrassing to return the book to Master later with a drool on the page.

He looked at the clock. It was six o'clock in the morning, why are there gunshots?! Bloody scenarios entered Roy's mind. He shuddered at the thought of being the only one alive left in the house, with the rest of the Hawkeye family being shot by the thief who came to steal all their money and jewelry. Imagine going outside the room and all you can see are trails of blood. He has to investigate this scene.

Roy stood up from his desk and walked cautiously at the window, searching first for evidence outside the house. He leaned first on the wall before looking at the window, taking a deep breath. He really has a feeling that all those things that were happening in books he had read would finally come to life. And as he looked out the window… he was totally wrong. His imaginations were getting haywire.

He had been staying at the Hawkeye house for three days; Brigadier General Grumman is still there, Roy presumed he took a vacation leave just so he could visit his family. The gunshots that woke him up came from him, he was shooting. A makeshift pistol shooting range was built at the backyard, with trees leading to the forest at the back of the range. Roy estimated the length of the range to be 25 yards, and a target stand made of plywood at the middle. The line of orange paint around the range also defines its space.

Brigadier General Grumman stood at the orange line, at the position aligned to the target stand. Holding his pistol, he shot, and shot, and shot. He was a good sharpshooter; always nearing the bulls eye. Roy observed his stance, this was the first time he saw a soldier quite in action. In Central, there may be lots of soldiers, but it's either they are drinking or just marching. His aunt also never allowed him to be near military operations whenever there was one near their vicinity.

As he looked at the scene, he saw a figure that looks out of place. Sitting on the steps near the backdoor was the granddaughter. Riza Hawkeye, Roy observed since the day he got there, is a shower of pink. Pink slippers, pink teddy bear, and today she was wearing a pink nightgown with strawberries printed on the cloth. Too girly, Roy mused. She also has a pink bookmark, as he saw her holding one while she was reading. When she opened the door when he arrived, she also wears pink.

He had never got the chance to talk to her alone. She was a quiet little girl, and like what the Brigadier General said, she spent her time reading too much. He once passed by her room and all he can see is books, most of which are books not normally read by girls her age. Her room was also filled with dolls and other kinds of toys, but they looked untouched. Roy wanted a friend in that place, and Riza could be a good candidate. The only problem was how he will start the conversation, if ever. She was very quiet, he thought, and Roy did not know how to talk to quiet people, too.

Roy wondered what Riza was doing in the porch steps. She should be sleeping, and wake up later at nine, just like ordinary girls. But no, here she was, hugging her pink teddy bear while watching her grandfather with interest. She should be terrified of the gunshots too, just like ordinary girls. Instead, she seemed to like the way it sounds, listening to it like it was symphony to her ears. Roy shook his head, what a very odd girl.

After splashing his face with cold water from his bathroom sink, Roy decided to head downstairs. He smelled bacon and eggs; Mrs. Hawkeye must be preparing breakfast. And he was right. The lady, Elizabeth Hawkeye, was holding a spatula in one hand, and a plate full of bacon and eggs on the other. She was wearing her blond hair in a ponytail, and an apron was tied around her waist. As Roy sat on one of the chairs, she spun around and smiled at him.

"Good morning Roy, you're up early." He finds her very striking resemblance with her daughter quite amusing.

He replied. "Good morning to you too, Mrs. Hawkeye."

Mrs. Hawkeye placed the plate on the table. "Oh please, stop calling me that. You're making me feel old." He smiled apologetically; he didn't know it was making her feel that way. He thought he was just being polite. "Call me Mommy instead. I always wanted to have a son."

"Uh," Roy started to speak. "Wouldn't that be weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"Um, because you're not really my Mommy?" Roy scratched the back of his head. Mrs. Hawkeye laughed a genuine one.

"Does that make you uncomfortable?" Roy nodded. "Okay then, maybe you can call me Aunt Liz." She placed a spoon and fork, and a plate in front of Roy.

"I'm cool with that, Aunt Liz." He beamed at her, and she returned the gesture.

Aunt Liz was such a sweet, sweet lady. He had never seen her lips curved downwards, and she cooked way better than his aunt. Breakfast at the Hawkeye's was different than back home. Here they did not eat breakfast at the same time; back in Central, Aunt Chris wakes him up at exactly eight for them to eat. He preferred it either way.

As Roy was about to gobble up his bacon and egg, the backdoor opened, and a whirlpool of pink and blond entered.

"Why are you in such a hurry, Riza dear?" Her mom asked while she was washing the pan and spatula.

Riza grabbed a plate and a spoon and fork from the shelf and sat down on the chair across from Roy. "Bacon and eggs." She answered. Aunt Liz understood it right away, as she smiled, as usual. Roy guessed that Riza loved bacon and eggs.

"I should take a bath; work starts at seven thirty." Aunt Liz worked at the library, maybe which was where Riza's love for books started. As Aunt Liz headed upstairs, Roy realized that one, Master Hawkeye must still be asleep, and two, this was the first time he and Riza were left alone. How awkward.

Brigadier General Grumman was still out, practicing his aim, so Roy thought that he would be left alone with Riza for a while. Uncomfortable silence hung in the air, at least for him. Riza was more focused on eating her favorite bacon and eggs more than her companion. Roy told himself that he should just eat.

"Why are you up early?" Roy froze while his fork was halfway to his mouth, and his eyes darted to the girl in front of him, chewing on her food. It was Riza who broke the silence; it made Roy kind of confused.

"Who, me?" As soon as he said it, he wanted to take it back right away. It was a very idiotic answer.

Riza narrowed her eyes, and she pointed her finger at something. "No, I'm talking to the one beside you." Roy did not know why he looked at where she was pointing, but when he returned his eyes to Riza, she was smirking. For an eight-year-old girl, she loves making him look like an idiot. And he thought she was quiet. First impressions really don't last.

"To answer your question, I woke up from your grandfather's gunshots, and now I can't sleep." Roy took a spoonful of bacon and chewed it.

Riza took another egg from the plate. "He is the reason why we have a makeshift range; every time he visits, he wakes up at five thirty and shoots until seven," she explained.

Roy swallowed his food before asking, and he wasn't sure if he should say this. "And you also wake up at five thirty to watch him." This caught her attention, and she just looked at him. "And for an eight-year-old girl, I can say that you do not want dolls and tea sets like normal girls; you want books… and guns."

Her eyes flashed with surprise for a second, and then it disappeared right away. Wow, Roy thought, this must be something that Riza has kept from her parents, since of course who would want to have a daughter who would like play with guns instead. He also noted at how good she was at hiding her emotions, but it was unfortunate for her that he was a very observant boy.

She smiled, but it was the kind of smile that has a warning to it. "You're wrong, Mr. Mustang. Where did you get that absurd idea?"

"When I saw you sitting by the porch steps watching your grandfather with awe, and I noticed the way your eyes are glinting, Miss Hawkeye." It was his time to smirk; he found it very entertaining to get in this young girl's nerves.

"Grandfather was right – you are so straightforward," Riza said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "And unlike Grandfather, I am not amused."

He started to laugh, which annoyed Riza more. "Now that I think about it, maybe you don't really like the color pink. You just pretend to like that color for your mom." Okay, maybe he got a little overboard. But Riza only raised an eyebrow; he's safe.

"Really?" She gave him a challenging look. It was intimidating, considering that she was younger and smaller than him. He did not give her a response; instead he wore that smirk as he stood up and picked up their plates to wash it in the sink.

As he washed the dishes, he heard Riza stand up from her seat. "This is the first time we talked, Mr. Mustang, and I already hate you," she exasperated.

Roy turned his head on her direction. "Really?" he replied what she had said earlier, and before she left the dining room, Riza just rolled her eyes.

This is very interesting, Roy thought.

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