A/N: yay! I wasn't so late this time!
Riza-centric. Some of the sentences may seem kind of one-sided, but they're meant to be that way.
Surprises
Really, this was RIDICULOUS.
Riza Hawkeye had been in the military for almost a decade. She was a top-mark sniper; a disciplinarian; a workaholic; devoted to her comrades and superiors. So many years in the military had taught her many of life's harder-learned lessons. Her brown eyes had seen many scenarios that most modern-day women couldn't begin to imagine—some scenes that she doubted she would ever forget.
But this…this was just beyond her…
Roy—err, Lt. Colonel Mustang, that is—was patrolling Eastern City, checking for evidences of Scar or other criminal activity (though, honestly, Riza couldn't recall when the last time he did work without being forced to was…)
Needless to say, she had been shocked and defensive of Ro—Lieutenant Colonel Mustang'snew…attitude improvement? She had attempted to guard him and was promptly brushed aside. She had insisted; and he had literally ordered her to stay at the office and "hold down the fort". The nerve!
Technically, she wasn't alone, mind you. Hayate was chasing some moths nearby (he never caught them), and she could hear Fuery tinkering away on another half-finished project.
Truth be told, however, she never really realized how boring work was without the Colonel. Riza came to work early and she left late, but Roy was never very far behind her; and though he had to be coerced into working, Hawkeye couldn't remember any times he'd called in sick. Work without him was so…
Ordinary.
"Inner Riza", that is, the Hawkeye beneath her stern exterior, began to pout, somewhat ashamed of herself. Did she depend on Roy Mustang so much that she could even file some reports without his griping?
The simple answer was, "Yes."
A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she pulled another pile into her lap. So. Much. Work.
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!! She was starting to sound like Roy!!
"Lieutenant Hawkeye, ma'am? Are you alright?" Kain Fuery looked up from his gadgets and screws long enough to shoot his superior a concerned look. While she appreciated his concern, she had to fight the desire to laugh—glasses reflect light very well, after all; and with those thick lenses, his eyes practically disappeared in the dim lamplight of his desk.
"Yes, I'm fine." Somehow, she managed to refrain from smirking (she always does).
"Ma'am?"
"Yes, Fuery?"
"Did you want to get some air?"
"Hm? What?" A somewhat surprised glance; whatever she had expected, it most certainly hadn't been Fuery asking her to get air. That was something Havoc did so that he could smoke, and he never asked her (of course, shooting the cigarette out of a heavy smoker's hand isn't always considered the most endearing way to tell them to put it out when inside the office.)
"Would you like to get some air outside…" Fuery wasn't meeting her glance. "With me…I just thought you'd be all alone if I left you in here…and I have asthma…" The teen made an odd sort of rasping sound, as if to convince her that he was telling the truth.
Riza wondered what he could be up to.
Her curiosity won. "Lead the way, Fuery."
-
"Okay, is everything set?"
"Yep. I've got my camera!"
"No one cares about your camera, idiot! Is everyone ready?! Where's the food?!"
"Sheesh! Calm down! It's over there…with Breda…ooh…"
"LIEUTENANT BREDA!!"
"What?! Calm down, Colonel! I'm not breaking into the snacks! Honestly!"
"LIEUTENANT HAVOC!"
"Yes, boss?"
"PUT OUT THAT SMOKE RIGHT NOW AND HIDE!!"
"Alright! Alright! Keep your uniform pants on…" he smirked, "at least till she gets here."
"I HEARD THAT! HAVOC! YOU'D BETTER HAVE FIRE INSURANCE, CAUSE BY THE TIME I'M THROUGH WITH YOU—!"
"SSHH! Roy! Quiet! She's coming!" Hughes' statement was followed by frantic hand symbols, each of which were pathetically directed to shut up the rest of the crew.
Stressed as he was, Roy Mustang could not help but poke fun at a certain alchemist in attendance with his younger (taller) brother. He added to Hughes' statement, just loud enough for Ed to hear, "Well, Full Metal doesn't have to shut up; 'cause, after all, there's such a height difference, there's no way his tiny voice could reach her ears."
A sound of a door being pushed open killed the retort on Edward's tongue, leaving him to shake a metal fist at the Flame Alchemist (Winry would murder him if he messed this surprise up…not to mention what Mustang would do…)
The light momentarily blinded Riza as she walked into the courtyard of Eastern Military Head Quarters. Her uniformed boots hit the concrete as she strode out into the full light and allowed her amber eyes to adjust to the sunlight, Fuery trotting along behind her. It was only when her eyes grew used to the atmosphere that she noticed the large table in the middle of the plaza…and all the food…and the cake…and the amount of candles on it…and the banner hanging from two poles (which looked to have been transmuted by Edward, based on the dragon heads holding the fabric).
All at once, every one of her friends, some people she barely remembered, some she didn't know, some she caught herself wishing she didn't know…they all jumped out from various hiding spots and yelled at the top of their lungs, "SURPRISE!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HAWKEYE!!"
Her marksman eye's swept the crowd, searching for one prominent figure. Where was her Colonel?
A tall figure stepped out from behind the door, raised his fingers in a familiar stance and snapped. For half a second, you could have heard a pin drop as the crowd wondered just what the great man had set on fire.
A burst of flame and a shower of sparks erupted near the cake; yet when the initial brightness had faded, not one corner of the pastry was harmed, and all twenty-eight candles where lit in beautiful spires of wax.
Riza looked at him fully in the face, gratitude washing her features. Her voice was calm. "All this was for me?"
"Is for you. Yes, it is for your birthday."
Riza smiled; the sheer gesture felt like it had sent Roy into the air. Her next words dampened his euphoria, but only ever so slightly.
"Tomorrow's my birthday, sir."
A/N: ...ooohh...close, but no banana...(yes, I said banana; it's a Garfield joke)
In response to Dailenna's review:
I'm familiar with blackjack. (it's good to know that others play it too, though). And also I would like to apologize for an error in my sentence structure. In the last chapter, Ed was never at the game. The comparison to his expression was meant to be only analytical, and it was my fault for writing it in a confusing phrase. thanks for reading so closely.
YEAH!! I'm really close to getting THREE DIGIT REVIEWS on this story, so, if you like it, please review!