A/N: I personally think that funniest part of this whole story is that Hughes is going to have a field day teasing Roy.
The Morning After
Feet skidding on the floor, Riza Hawkeye was propelled bodily through the door, her arms held fast in the grip of her two companions. "Sirs, I really don't think that this a good —"
"Forget it, Hawkeye, you need to loosen up!" Freeing one hand from her arm, Maes Hughes tugged at the collar of her jacket. "Come on, take your coat off. Stay awhile."
Seconds later, her jacket hanging on a hook by the door, she was being forced into a seat at the bar. "Bartender, you know what to do," Roy smirked, dropping onto the stool beside hers. He received a languid wave in acknowledgement. "Riza, you've been tense all week, and it's finally Friday night. There's nothing wrong with two friends buying you a drink to help you unwind."
"Besides, you're not leaving here until we see you smile," Hughes said, clapping her on the shoulder. "A pretty girl like you has to smile every so often. Otherwise, you scare all the boys away."
"Hey!" Roy scowled at his best friend. "If she's so scary when she doesn't smile, then how come I stick around?"
"Who knows? You're just crazy."
With a quiet sigh, Riza propped one elbow on the bar, using her hand to support her chin, and resigned herself to listening to her superiors' bickering. This was going to be a long evening.
He woke gradually, aware of the room's brightness before he even opened his eyes. Roy immediately regretted doing so, as morning sunlight stabbed at his vision, igniting the headache that had been lurking in his brain. Rolling over, he buried his face in the pillow and waited for the pounding to subside.
From the kitchen came a soft 'clink;' he paused for a moment, then carefully lifted his head, listening hard. The sound repeated itself, and he tensed. Someone was in his apartment.
Rising quietly, the headache fading into the background, he slipped toward the dividing wall that separated the kitchen from the rest of his place. There were soft footsteps as someone moved about, and the smell of coffee drifted toward him. Roy frowned; what kind of burglar broke in during broad daylight, then proceeded to make coffee?
"Hughes?" he said, stepping around the corner . . . .
To the sight of a young woman leaning against the counter, her nose buried inside a coffee mug. Riza glanced his way, the dark circles under her eyes showing she was just as hungover as he was.
"Good morning, sir," she said, lowering the mug, cradling it in both hands.
He stared at her — she wore her uniform pants, as she had the night before, but the shirt was definitely one of his. ". . . . Morning . . . ."
The corner of her mouth twitched upward. "You don't remember why I'm here, do you, sir."
". . . Can't say I —" Abruptly, somewhere deep in his alcohol-fogged brain, it clicked. His eyes widened as he stared at her, involuntarily scanning her from head to toe and back again. "Oh . . . ."
"Oh," she agreed, looking at him with a small smirk. "You see now what happens when you drink too much, Major? Specifically, what happens when you drink too much around me?"
He was across the distance in two strides, his hands on her shoulders. "Riza, I'm so sorry. This shouldn't have happened, I've put you in a terrible position . . . . But as long as Hughes keeps his mouth shut, and only you and I know about it, then it'll be okay. We can put it behind us." He shrugged uncomfortably. "To tell you the truth, I don't remember any of it, so that makes any fraternization charges a little shaky, which can only help —"
"Wait a minute." She lifted one hand to stop the waterfall of words currently pouring out of his mouth. "Sir, am I to take it that you think that, in a fit of inebriated loose morality, I slept with you?"
Roy blinked. Why was she using words like 'inebriated' right now? ". . . . Are you saying you didn't?"
"I can assure you, my pants stayed firmly on my body," Riza answered dryly. "I'm here because I escorted you home last night. Given that my apartment is halfway across the city, and I didn't want to walk there alone at two in the morning, I stayed here."
"Where did you sleep?"
"You fell asleep curled up; that left some space for me on the end of the couch," she said, taking another sip of coffee. "Though I did get one or two kicks to the hip during the night."
He winced, belatedly dropping his hands back to his sides. "Sorry. And what about the shirt?"
"I can wear the same pants for two days in a row without a problem; a shirt, however, is a different story." She shrugged. "You were still asleep when I put my shirt in the wash; I only meant to borrow it until mine is clean and dry. I'm sorry; if you had been awake, I would have asked permission."
"It's okay." Reaching past her, he picked up the second mug of coffee sitting on the counter. "Why are you being so . . . uptight? We're not at the office; you don't have to call me 'sir,' or 'Major.' You know my name, so use it."
She sighed. "I'm sorry, Roy. This is just . . . weird." The corner of her mouth twitched again, this time with a touch of visible embarrassment. "I've never woken up in a man's apartment after a night of drinking. I'm not sure how to handle this."
"Best advice I can give you — let it slide. We both know what happened now; we know there's no changing it, and we know we didn't do anything wrong." He took a swallow of hot coffee, feeling the headache starting to make itself felt again. "The only thing left to do now is nurse our hangovers and carry on."
"I suppose you're right." She glanced at the clock, then set her mug aside and slipped past him toward the door. "My shirt should be just about clean. I'll be back in a minute."
"Sure." He paused, looking into his own mug. "Riza? What did you mean, this is what happens when I go drinking around you in particular?"
She paused with her hand on the doorframe, and looked back at him. "I brought you back here last night because I knew you wouldn't make it on your own," she said quietly, finally offering a tiny, but genuine, smile. "I don't know why, but I worry about you, Roy. I worry a lot."
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