This Can't Be
Chapter 3: Hells nah.
Roy had dismissed Havoc as quickly as he could. Before Havoc left his office however, he couldn't help but note the evil glint in his Fuhrer's eyes. The only thing that blond man could wish for, as he made his down the steps, was that he would get that pile of paper work done for the day.
As an hour turned to two, then to three, then to eight hours and Roy Mustang had yet to leave his office, people were beginning to worry about their leader. Falman, Breda, Havoc, and Fuery (who were all on break) were just outside his door, debating on whether or not to check on him.
"Maybe he's not feeling to well," Fuery offered.
"No way," Breda huffed. "I think he's sleeping."
Havoc groaned. "Don't say that, Breda. Please. If he's sleeping you know who's going to get the heat of it? Me!"
Falman, who had remained quiet, listened carefully inside the officeand coughed. "I can hear rabid scribbling." He frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe he's writing a note of absence?"
Click.
The men instantly straightened and closed their mouths as Roy sauntered out. They all sighed in relief when they saw their leader, then blinked at the condition he was in. Roy was yawning, bu his eyes were a deep shape of red. So he hasn't been sleeping. But he sounded tired. Very tired. Roy's head suddenly snapped towards Havoc who, in fear, saluted the tired Fuhrer. Havoc began to tense, seeing the unusually serious face that the man had. He tensed even more when Roy marched his way over to him and flinched when he felt something slap into his hand. He opened his eyes and looked down.
The papers that were to be due for the day. No – week! "Uh, Boss?"
"This is all the work that was to be done for the week." Roy growled. He was pulling off his gloves. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a week off to enjoy myself." He then turned and marched out of sight.
[ ]
Mustang cursed at himself for being so jea – no! He's not jealous! He's just concerned for a friend, that's all.
...And that's why he's storming down the streets of Central at night, with no real plan, right? Right.
Roy forced his legs to slow down and then stop, thinking about what he was about to do. Riza was old enough to choose for herself. And if anything, it was Roy's fault for not making her his She had obviously loved him, once upon a time. He just never took the initiative.
So it was natural for her to turn to someone else when he showed no interest. But Riza wasn't just his interest. She was his life.
Roy found himself even more annoyed by his own thoughts. Dammit! Why I should just -
"Fuhrer Mustang?"
He whipped around, surprised by the voice. Riza stood behind him, wearing a black sweater, her hair down, and holding hands with the same young man standing beside her.
He thought he was going to die.
"Hawkeye?"
"What are you doing out here?" Her voice suddenly turned sharp, the same voice she used for when he wasn't doing his work. "You should be at HQ, working on-"
"I've finished it." He blurted out. "I finished the paperwork that was due for the week."
There was a sort of a serious look on Riza's face. She didn't believe him. Roy Mustang? Actually working without her? Ha!
The young man, still standing beside her, coughed into his hand. "Uhm, mind introducing me to your friend here, Riza?"
"Yeah Riza," Roy mumbled under his breath, "Introduce me." It would be interesting to see how Riza put him into words.
"He's my boss," the blond stated simply. "From where I work." Riza smiled slowly. Maybe he did finish all of his work. It would allow her to really relax. "Roy," she at last, saying his first for the first time in... a really long while. "This is Jameson Terrance. An old friend of mine."
"Nice to meet you," Jameson stated, holding out his hand. This time, Roy took a good look at the man before him, as he complied. Short, blond hair. Grey eyes. Deep tone of voice.
God, most girls would easily fall for a guy like this!
"Likewise."
Riza beamed, something she never did at work. "We were on our way to a cafe, sir. Would you like to join us?"
This is it! Roy's inner voice screamed at him to accept the invitation. But instead, he looked at how Riza was dressed, how the man was still holding her hand, how they both gave off a comfortable, yet somewhat disappointed vibe. He said, "I'd love to, but I need to get home. I worked six hours straight, so I think I'm due to some sleep."
"That's a shame," Jameson replied. "Maybe next time?"
"Perhaps."
Roy quickly dismissed himself and turned away, mind whirling with an idea. Tonight would do no good for him. They had already planned something just for themselves and he couldn't just sudden;y invite himself, just because he wanted to be sure Riza wasn't really with him. He would go home and make a plan.
[ ]
That night, Roy went home and immediately began planning. Riza was probably having a grand with that man right now, but he'll find a way to win her back. Using a pen, Roy began to write what he knew about the woman:
She likes guns.
No nonsense kind of a woman.
Loves Hayate
Probably wore a size 32C-
No, no, no! That's not what he wanted! Roy grumbled. Riza had a week off, thank to him. And she was probably going to spend it with that guy. But who said he could make plans in which he just ran into them? A casual "Oh! I didn't know you were here!"
A smile formed on his lips as he entertained the idea. As he reached for a phone and began dialing, he thought to himself, Riza is mine, dammit!