A/N: I wrote next week's chapter in advance to get a bit ahead, but I just love it too much not to post it now! Please leave a review if you have the time :)

Chapter Three: Apples and Oranges

It was not unusual for her father to remain locked away in his study throughout the night, and, as his cup of coffee sat cooling on the table next to the door, Riza knew that he would also not be taking breakfast. She always made enough for him on mornings when she rose early, but after nine o'clock, she wouldn't see him until at least supper. This meal she would leave on the small table, which, the next morning, held the dirty dishes more often than not. It was for this reason that the dinners she made were as calorie-dense as possible, whereas breakfast was just enough to wake the stomach. "Waste not, want not" were words she lived by; in a household where money was scarce, she was used to making do. The grocer would, on occasion, add some extra fruit to her bag, or the butcher would cut a slightly thicker piece of meat, but such kindnesses could not be expected or counted on when the townsfolk had more, but not much, than she and her father did.

She sat at the kitchen table, her black coffee steaming in her mug, still too hot to drink. Her small fingers worked away at the skin of an orange, one which had been placed in her bag the previous day when she wasn't looking. She placed the peel to the side, saving it to either cook with or compost; she wasn't sure yet. If she could get ahold of some sugar or chocolate, she could candy it. It had been ages since she had eaten candied orange peels. Absentmindedly, she licked the juice off her fingertips before peeling the fruit apart over a plate, catching anything that fell. She should walk to Mr. Sommerley's orchard and see if he had any less-than-perfect fruit he would be willing to sell her for a few cens.

Lost in thought, she failed to notice Roy entering the kitchen. In fact, she had forgotten that he was in the house at all. Yesterday's events could have been a dream, for how bizarre they were. Yet she was pulled back to reality when the boy walked into her line of sight, opening and closing every cabinet he could reach. His black hair was matted in the back, and he was speaking to himself in a voice still gravelly with sleep. She could have sworn she heard him say "cup," but the rest of the statement was lost in translation. Setting down her breakfast, she rose from her chair and walked past him, reaching for a cupboard he had already opened. In only a few seconds, she had poured a mug of coffee for him and placed the sugar on the kitchen table. She took the mug and pressed it into Roy's hand, curling his fingers over the handle, before leading him to a chair. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure if he was sleepwalking.

The two sat in silence as Roy drank his cup of coffee, downing it as though it were his lifeblood. Riza watched him as she continued to eat her orange, chewing slowly so that she could enjoy the taste. The serenity was interrupted by the scraping of a chair against the floor as Roy went to refill his cup, and then once more as he sat back down. Halfway through his second helping, his eyes began to clear and the crease between his eyebrows softened.

He was a strange one, Riza decided. She found him funny, although telling him so would probably bruise his ego. Before she could offer him anything to eat, he had reached for the basket in the middle of the table and chose himself an apple, one of the green ones she didn't care for.

"What time is your train?" She asked, speaking for the first time that morning.

"Hnn?" Roy made a noise at her and raised his eyebrow, having taken a large mouthful just a moment before.

"Your train. I planned on helping you down to the station with your things." Although this was expected of her by her father's standards, a part of her wanted to do so of her own accord.

Roy swallowed before giving a shrug, looking at his breakfast. "Dunno. Not getting on one, if I have any say in it."

Riza looked at him incredulously as he took another bite, unable to believe what he just said. Unable to figure it out for herself, she finally asked "What do you mean?"

"I'm not going. Your dad thinks he can scare me, but he's wrong. I'm gonna stick around until he drags me onto that train kicking and screaming. If I don't leave, he has to say something to me eventually. I plan on proving myself in the meantime."

Riza just stared at him, waiting for him to laugh or for some other sign that he was joking. When none came, she picked her orange peel off the table and began to tear it into thin strips. She wanted to tell him what a poor idea that was, that he was being a fool, that he had no idea what he was doing or what the repercussions would be. She desperately wanted to, but the words stopped themselves in the back of her throat.

"So, what can I do around here?" Roy asked, not noticing the pause. "What needs to be done that you can't do?"

Roy had no idea that the east could be so hot. He pulled up the bottom of his shirt to wipe his brow clean of sweat, keeping it from dripping into his eyes. After brushing his hair back out of his face, he lifted the hammer once more and continued to drive nails into the roof. Riza had asked him to patch a hole above the attic, which was gathering too much water when it stormed. She couldn't do it herself because she couldn't get the shingles out onto the roof at her height, but the ceiling of the second floor was starting to brown where the water seeped through. He didn't mind the manual labor, and fixing something in such a state of disrepair made him feel useful.

From his vantage point, he could see Riza flutter about the yard. She wanted to take advantage of the nice weather and take care of her overdue chores, which she had to postpone due to a solid week of rain. He watched her dig in the dirt with her hands, pulling up weeds from a vegetable garden. She hiked her dress up and tied it around her thighs as she set to work mending the fence, not shying away from using tools and doing more demanding work. She would disappear for moments at a time around the back of the house, returning with different materials each time she changed tasks. At the moment, she was raking the leaves out of the yard. There wasn't much grass to speak of beneath them, but the little bit that there was would benefit from the sunlight. At this thought, Roy looked up at the sky, trying to judge the time by the sun. When he looked back down, Riza was gone once more. He put his mind back on task and continued to hammer the shingles over the hole in the roof.

"Mr. Mustang?"

Roy felt his heart falter as he lost his balance, but his wrist was being pulled before he could fall. He steadied himself once more and followed the hands wrapped around his, finally reaching a wide-eyed Riza.

"Mr. Mustang! I am so sorry; I didn't mean to startle you." She was deeply apologetic. "I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come with me to Mr. Sommerley's."

"Who?" Roy asked as his pace of breathing returned to normal.

"One of the farmers in town. I was hoping to see if he had any oranges that he couldn't sell in the store, and I thought you might want to stretch your legs. I'm sorry if I-"

"No, no, no." As he shook his head, his hair fell back in his face. "I'll go with you. It's no trouble at all. Anything to get me off this roof." He grinned at his own statement. He placed the hammer and nails back into the bag and climbed through the attic window, joining Riza on the other side. "Shall we?" There was his grin again, and he offered her his arm in a playful gesture. While Riza found it charming, she also found it mildly irritating. His cockiness would get him into trouble one day.

As the pair walked down to the first floor, both sets of eyes watched the door to Berthold Hawkeye's study. It was a waiting game until he realized that Roy had never left, and Riza couldn't predict his reaction. She had learned to be five steps ahead of her father at all times; being unable to was making her nervous. She tried to brush the thought aside as she walked out the front door, but it hung in the back of her mind despite her best efforts. She shut the door swiftly behind them, eager to push that inevitability further into the future. "Come on," she urged, trying her best to look carefree as she took the lead, starting down the hill.

Roy started at a slight jog to catch up to her, but he soon found that, with his long legs, he had to walk slowly so he didn't overtake her. For half a mile, not a word was spoken. The two kept pace with ease, and they walked with only about a foot between them. It wasn't until Roy spoke that they realized how far they had already gone.

"Wanna play five questions?" he asked, glancing over at his companion.

"I don't know what that is."

"It's easy. You ask me five questions, and I have to tell the truth. Then it's your turn."

"What if I lie?"

"... you're not supposed to, ok?"

Riza's mouth turned up at the corners, amused at his response. "Alright. Let's see. Where were you born? Do you have any siblings? What do you want to be when you grow up? What's your favorite food? And if you could go to one place, where would it be?"

"You're not supposed to ask them all at once," Roy sighed. Before Riza could apologize, he began to answer, ticking each point off on his fingers. "I was born in Xing, when my parents were on vacation. No biological siblings, but I have a ton of sisters at Aunt Chris'. I want to be an alchemist, my favorite food is breakfast food, and I want to go to Xerxes."

Out of all of his responses, Riza asked, "You know breakfast food isn't a food, right?"

"You never said it had to be a specific food." Roy shrugged. "Alright, now you."

"What about me?"

"What are your answers?"

"You can't use my questions, that's cheating."

"Never said it was, so it can't be." Roy laughed, dodging out of the way as she swung her basket at him.

"Fine," she huffed. "I was born here and have no brothers or sisters. I want to move to Central and become a teacher. My favorite food is oranges," she emphasized the singular type of fruit to continue making her point about the inadequacy of his answer. "And I would like to see Xing."

They continued to question one another as they walked, learning more about one another in that short time than they knew about anyone else. Riza learned that Roy was an orphan, and Roy found out that her mom had died a couple years back. Riza was teaching herself Cretan, and Roy knew some Xingese, mostly in the form of curses. Roy knew that he was third-generation Xingese on his father's side, whereas Riza had no idea where she came from. They both preferred summer to winter, nights to mornings, and chocolate to vanilla. Before either of them could realize where the day had gone, they were back at the house with a basket full of oranges and apples - the green kind.

Riza hesitated to open the door, unsure of whether or not her father had left his study that day. Her hand hovered midway as every possibility passed through her mind. To her surprise, an arm stretched over her own and opened the door for her with confidence. Roy grinned at her before walking inside and slipping off his coat. His grin said I'll handle whatever comes our way. Riza had never climbed down from a state of panic so quickly. She found herself trusting in him completely, and, although she was terrified of the hurt it was sure to bring, she let herself take solace in it for that one, brief moment.

"Lend me a hand with tonight's dinner?" she asked as she set the basket down on the kitchen table. "There's a lot to prepare, and we're later getting back than I thought we would be."

"Sure. What are we having?"

"Whatever we can think to throw together."