A/N: I had a couple people say they would like more Royza sexytimes . . . so I said, "Why not?" Enjoy it while it lasts, my lovelies.

I do not own FMA.

Aware

She didn't know exactly when she'd started being able to predict his almost every move. Now, she knew his every little quirk and habit: she knew how he took his coffee, when he was more likely to do his work without complaint, or when he was likely to fall asleep face-down on top of it. She could tell at a glance if he'd been spending late nights going over his research notes, or if something was bothering him. She knew how to coax — occasionally con — him into talking about things he would otherwise keep bottled up, and she knew the fastest ways to calm him down when his hot-headed streak kicked in.

Yes, Riza was very aware of just how well she knew Roy Mustang.

Briggs would see a heat wave before she would admit it, but deep inside, Riza took great pride in her title. Not the title of First Lieutenant, the other one: bodyguard-slash-adjutant. It meant that she was the one person Roy trusted to be closer than all the others. Precious few could legitimately say they were close to him, and out of those, she was the only one he had tasked with watching his back.

Over the years, she had developed an unconscious habit of consistently checking where he was relative to her own position. Wherever he was, as long as she was in the same room, she knew exactly where to look for him. She knew his walk, the sound of his footsteps; if he came up behind her, she could always tell it was him without turning around.

And in cases such as this, squeezed into an elevator with the rest of 'the team' with Fuery pushed back-to-back against her and Roy's face no more than six inches from hers, she was all too aware of him.

He had told her once, in a fit of slightly drunken honesty, that she had a scent about her that drove him crazy. Coffee, vanilla, and brown sugar, he'd said, with that mischievous smirk on his face. What Riza hadn't told him was that every time she walked across the office to his desk, either waking him up or to get his signature on a piece of paperwork, his scent — that mix of soap, ink-covered paper, clean linen, and something unidentifiable that made her heart speed up and it was all him — was the first thing she noticed.

Standing this close, she was concentrating on keeping her heart rate steady. She stared at one of the stars on his epaulets, focussing on that and not the leg pressed against hers, not the accidental brush of his foot, not the mouth that was practically at eye level and if she reached just a little —

No. Mentally shaking herself, Riza brought her thoughts back from their tangent. This was not the time nor the place to be having such thoughts; by military regulations, he wasn't even a person she should be having those thoughts about. Besides, such fantasies were a waste on someone like her; she didn't have time for such sentimental nonsense. Taking a surreptitious deep breath, just as the elevator slowed to a halt, Riza buried her tiny moment of weakness in the darkest recesses of her mind.

The doors opened, and the six of them filtered out into the hallway. Havoc grimaced, rubbing at a sore shoulder. "The next time we have to travel somewhere, let's pick a hotel with bigger elevators," he grumbled. "Breda had me shoved against the wall the entire time."

"Says the guy who had his bony elbow jabbing me in the back," the red-haired man returned with a glare.

"Take it easy." Roy interrupted the impending argument, though not sharply. "The two of you still have to be roommates for the night. Don't start off trying to kill each other."

Galvanizing her thoughts into motion, Riza spoke up, taking care that her voice wouldn't betray any eyebrow-raising emotions. "Speaking of tonight, I'd suggest that everyone try and get a decent amount of sleep. Our train leaves at nine tomorrow morning, meaning we need to be packed and out of the hotel by eight."

Fuery stifled a yawn. "You don't have to tell me twice. Good night, everyone." With a chorus of murmured good nights, the six of them filtered off to their rooms. Fuery and Falman shared one, and Breda and Havoc had another, leaving their two superiors to their separate single rooms.

Standing in front of her door, just lifting the key to the lock, Riza heard that oh-so-familiar footstep behind her. Not bothering to keep his voice quiet, Roy said, "If you don't mind, I'd like a look at the itinerary for tomorrow."

"Of course." Turning the key, she pushed the door open, and held it for him. He passed her without a word, hands casually in his pockets. She let the door close, following him across to the room's desk. Brown eyes watched as he turned on the desk lamp, and picked up the file lying there, studying the contents. "What exactly are you looking for, sir?"

"Nothing, really." Dark eyes never left the page. "I'm just wondering what had you so uptight in the elevator, and if you're all right."

. . . He noticed that? Folding her hands behind her back, Riza kept her usual impassive mask in place. "It's nothing I can't handle, sir. I'm fine."

"I see." He flipped the file closed, dropping it casually back to the polished desk; his eyes slid sideways to look at her. "I thought it might have something to do with six people stuck in one elevator. A little bit of claustrophobia." He turned, taking a step in her direction; he was too close now. Riza automatically took a step away, her back fetching up against the wall.

"But then again," Roy said quietly, with just the hint of a smirk, "you've never really had that problem, have you."

She almost expected to feel light-headed; to her mild surprise, she was as calm as ever. "No, I haven't." Riza held his gaze, neither speaking for a long moment. He was watching her closely, no doubt trying to figure out what it was he'd picked up on that she was so determined not to tell him.

Maybe she should say it. If there was one thing Roy took as a challenge, it was information being dangled in front of his nose, then being told he couldn't have it. It had been that way with her father's research, with finding Hughes' murderer . . . . With his track record, she wouldn't be surprised if he tried to —

"If I noticed it at all, it has to be something pretty significant," he said, voice still soft. The smirk had faded into a calm smile. "Come on, you've shared darker secrets than this before, right? What's one more, between you and me? You know you can trust me."

— persuade her . . . . No, she was stronger than this. In this battle of wills, she would win.

"I'm sure I can, sir," she said matter-of-factly. "But as I said, it's nothing I can't handle. If you've finished with the itinerary, I think I'd like to turn in for the night."

His eyes narrowed, not out of spite, but curiosity at her consistent dodging of his subtle interrogation. As she moved to step around him, he caught her lightly by the hand. "Hold it, soldier. I didn't say anything about you being dismissed." He was completely serious as he added, "I don't want to pull rank on you, Riza. But I will if I have to."

And she knew he would. They worked closely enough together that Roy seldom had to give her a direct order, unless it was for the sake of appearances, around other high-ranking officers; most of the time, Riza was able to anticipate what had to be done, and acted on it. For him to make the suggestion, he was very serious indeed.

At the same time, he'd used her first name, which meant he was confident they were completely alone. The way he said it set it bouncing around her mind, the sound repeating itself over and over. Something that felt like a static charge buzzed at the back of her neck, a shiver waiting to go down her spine if he said it again.

She took a step back to where she had been before, though it put her back against the wall again. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize we weren't finished with our discussion," she said. "If you want to give me that order, you're welcome to do so, but I'm afraid it would be a waste of your time."

Roy stared at her for a moment, confusion taking the place of everything else. ". . . What the hell has gotten into you?"

Taken aback by the undertone of hurt in his voice, Riza didn't reply, though her surprise registered on her face. Unconsciously drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she tried to think of what to say next. Her eyes left Roy's, travelling down to glance briefly at his lips before she turned her head to the side, looking away. Maybe winning this battle wasn't that important . . . .

He went very still, then. "Riza . . . ." The electrical charge at the base of her neck went racing down her back; she tensed. "It's about me, isn't it." His hands went to her shoulders, the worry evident in his voice now. "What did I do? Just talk to me; we'll sort it out."

"It's not the sort of thing that just talking means the end of it," she said, giving him a sidelong glance. She watched as he frowned briefly in puzzlement . . . and then the metaphorical lightbulb came on.

"Oh . . . ." Roy smiled. "That's what this is about? I have to basically interrogate you to figure out that you noticed me? Why didn't you just say so?"

Riza folded her arms, waiting for the inevitable bout of laughter that was no doubt on its way. "Some of us have a harder time expressing our feelings," she said dryly. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm one of them."

"You're right; I'm sorry." He kept a lid on the snicker that obviously wanted to escape, but the smile remained on his face. His hands dropped to his sides. "So. What do you suggest I do with this newfound knowledge? We've obviously done the talking part, but as you said, just talking won't be the end of it."

Riza's eyes went to his lips again, set in that trickster's grin. "I did say that, didn't I . . . ."

He was closer now, and as always, her heart began to beat just a little faster at the scent of him. "Yes, you did."

Her back pressed against the wall as he kissed her, his touch returning, this time at her sides. Unbidden, Riza's hands rose to his shoulders. The feel of his lips on hers was cautious, almost tentative; he was testing the waters, so to speak, testing her responses before he —

In the next instant, Roy had closed the gap still remaining between them. Riza's eyes snapped open as he broke for breath; he was already watching her to gauge her reaction. This was worse than in the elevator; practically every inch of his body was aligned tightly against hers, and this time, there was no trying to ignore it. That moment of weakness she had ruthlessly buried just five minutes earlier came screaming back to life.

". . . Oh, what the hell," she murmured, only half to herself.

There was nothing cautious or careful about the kiss now; only desperation to reach a high that was just around the corner. Riza's fingers sought out and undid the closures on his uniform jacket, pushing it down off his shoulders even as he worked his arms out of the sleeves. The stiff blue material dropped to the carpet, and hers followed suit shortly after.

Riza inhaled sharply at the feel of his fingertips on her back, slipping under the soft fabric of her customary black shirt. Roy jumped at the sound, pulling back to look at her in mild alarm. "What—" He was only slightly out of breath.

She shook her head. "It startled me a little . . . it's okay." One corner of her mouth curled in a tiny, sly smile. "It's nothing you haven't seen before, anyway."

"Hmm. That was a long time ago." Roy grinned, one finger stroking along the ridge of her spine; that sent her pushing closer against him in a reflex to escape the tickle. "Maybe I've forgotten what it looks like."

"It's on your gloves, Roy."

". . . That was a perfectly good line until you wrecked it." His eyes narrowed in mock severity. "You're going to pay for that . . . ." He renewed his 'attack' on her lips, his free hand going to the back of her head. He undid the clip holding her hair twisted up in its usual style; the blonde strands dropped to her shoulders as he tossed the clip to the floor with their jackets. His fingers threaded their way through the soft tresses.

One by one, she undid the buttons on his shirt; one hand pressed itself to his chest over his heart. Pushing gently, Riza followed him back toward the bed.

"Gotta wonder where a nice girl like you learned how to act like this," Roy murmured, sinking down to sit on the edge of the mattress. "They give you extra classes at the Academy for this sort of thing?"

"You would be the first to volunteer as a test subject if they did, wouldn't you." Settling herself across his lap, she slid her arms up over his shoulders as his did the same around her waist.

"Can you blame me? Especially if any of the students are half as pretty as you?" He grinned, kissing her lightly. "Come on, where's that smile from before? At least let yourself have a little fun with this; you're too serious."

"Maybe I'm out of practice; this hasn't happened for a long time," she reminded him. "Not since that time we visited Maes and Gracia in Central, right after Elicia was born. That was just over three years ago —" She froze, her gaze drifting to one side. "Oh no . . . ."

Roy watched her eyes widen, his arms tightening protectively around her in reflex. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Central," she breathed. "We have to be on the train to Central tomorrow morning."

"Okay . . . ." Wary, and still concerned, he forced his embrace to relax. "And how does that have a bearing on what we were just doing? That's not until tomorrow; we can still —"

Her voice was low as she cut him off. "If we do this now, it's going to be very obvious tomorrow morning how tired we are. All four of the men know neither of us brought work with us that would keep us up, and last they knew, you were just coming in here to 'look at the itinerary.' They'll know something happened."

"How can you be sure?"

". . . Do I need to remind you how uncannily observant Falman is? If he notices, he's going to share."

Roy stared at her for a moment, before letting go and dropping flat onto his back. "You and your damn logic," he groaned, one palm reaching up to smack against his own forehead. "I would have been perfectly happy not thinking about that. Ignorance is bliss, Riza!"

"I know; I'm sorry." She leaned forward, ducking past his arm to give him one last apologetic kiss. "You can still stay here tonight if you want. But sleeping will be a priority."

He lifted the hand from his eyes, smiling ruefully. "I guess, either way, I'll still have the knowledge that I slept with you, just not in the usual sense. You've got a deal."

"Thank you." Her sly smile from a moment earlier returned. "And don't steal the covers like last time."

The phone on the bedside table rang, jolting her out of what was the most peaceful rest she'd had in a long time. Riza lifted her head sharply, sleep-tousled hair falling into her eyes as she frowned in sleep-fogged confusion at the noisy device. Who was calling her this early in the morning? The arm around her waist tightened as Roy snuggled closer.

"If you don't shoot it," he growled, "I will."

It all came rushing back in a flood of memory. The elevator, the 'interrogation,' the realization that they couldn't go through with it, at least not then . . . and the feeling of security as she drifted off, held close to Roy's chest with his quiet breathing in her ear and his heartbeat against her back.

"Sshh, just stay quiet." Reaching forward, she caught hold of the receiver, bringing it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Morning, Lieutenant." A tired-sounding Havoc seemed to be fighting back a yawn. "Just got the wake-up call from the front desk; they asked me to pass it on to you."

Right. Morning. The train to Central . . . . Almost on cue, Roy's arm tugged her back; she let herself be pulled back down, phone still in hand. "All right; thank you." She suppressed a reflexive 'hunh' as her bed partner's weight pressed down on her hip.

"Oh - you might want to go over and check on the Colonel. I tried calling him first, but he didn't pick up." A grin crept into his tone. "No offense, but you're the only one brave enough to go in there and turf him out of bed."

Roy was nose-to-nose with her now; dark eyes narrowed as they darted meaningfully toward the phone. "Understood. You and the others focus on getting ready; I'll deal with him." She waited until she heard the click before shifting her hand to cover the speaking end of the receiver, lowering her voice to just one shade higher than a whisper. "Good morning, sir."

"Wait a sec." He kissed her, like the night before, long and almost desperate. When he at last broke for air, he grinned. "Now it's a good morning."