Disclaimer- I don't own FMA.

Enjoy!

June 30th, 1916

15:31

Disposition- Hopeful

Riza came to visit me today.

Yeah.

Today. The day after I got brutally assaulted by Olivier and her steel-toed boots. Six times, and topped off with the hand-crunch-thingy. It's almost twenty-four hours later and I still can't walk. I'm not even close to walking, in fact. So, naturally, I took off work.

And I was very, very, bored. It's not like I could ask a woman out on a date right now. There's no good radio stations yet, and I've read all my research books, like, a million times.

So I sat there with a cooler for my ice packs on my chair facing the bookshelf, watching paint peel. Havoc had to go to work, so I was alone. The pain was almost enough to distract me. Almost.

And several boring hours later, my doorbell rang. I ignored it. It rang again. I ignored it again. This went on until I got annoyed, yelled, "I'm not home!", realized my mistake, and sighed.

I grabbed the crutches I'd rescued from my cluttered closet and hobbled to the door to find Riza there, looking at me in all my bedraggled glory. I was (and am) wearing old pyjamas and a really old, stained muscle shirt I think I borrowed from Kimblee in the Rebellion. Yeah, it's ancient. Plus, I was on crutches, hasn't taken a shower and haven't combed my hair. I was (and am) a mess.

Riza's eyebrows shot up. "Colonel?"

We both blinked and she coughed. "I mean, er, Brigadier General?"

"Yeah?" I groaned. My voice sounded hoarse and STILL a little too high-pitched! Damn it, I thought that had gone away yesterday!

"May I come in?"

I opened the door to let her in and crutched (word?) back to my comfy chair. I saw her eyes glide over my chair and the cooler full of ice packs, plus the one that had slid to the floor when I'd gotten up.

"You're injured." she stated. I cringed. Yeah, I was, as if the crutches hadn't given it away, but still, I'd held on to the faint hope…

"Yeah." I said, plopping into the chair. I didn't put the ice pack back, however, hoping I wouldn't have to tell her exactly HOW I was injured.

"What happened, Roy? How'd you get injured?"

EEEEEEE! SHE CALLED ME ROY! :)

"Oh, just a little incident." I looked longingly at my ice pack. The numbness was fading quickly.

Riza put her hands on her hips and I found that I couldn't keep my eyes off them. They were gorgeous-

Ahem. Anyway, back to our conversation.

"Where are you injured?"

I gestured to the upper leg area and I saw comprehension dawn in Riza's eyes.

"What. Did. You. Do? Did you go on a date with someone and mess with them! Did you take advantage of someone!"

Riza got close in my face, close enough for me to smell her soap. Not perfume, soap. You might think it's not very feminine, but I think it's beautiful. She's beautiful. I mean it, Diary. She has so much grace, no matter if it's when she's looking at me and smiling or about to snipe someone from a tower.

"I didn't hurt anyone! I didn't do anything! I haven't gone on a date since the revolution!" I protested truthfully. Sadly, but truthfully.

"Then why have you been…incapacitated this way?" Her hesitation to address my injuries make her look so cute!

"Olivier Armstrong." I said weakly.

"Oh."

I reached for the nearest ice pack and placed it in my (very) bruised area. "It's Havoc's fault, really."

"And why would Olivier do this to you? I know she's violent, but she usually has a reason."

"Well-and yes, you can appreciate the irony- she told me that I didn't have the balls to do something I want to do. Something I've wanted to do for years now, in fact."

Riza didn't say anything, just smiled a little.

"She was right. I wish she'd found another way to express herself, but she was right." I sighed. Yes, I'm finally showing a little bit less of the idiot and more of the Mustang Ed remembers so well. No, wait, that Mustang's a moron too…I guess I'm showing the Mustang that I wish I was brave enough to show more often, the me that loves my subordinates and friends, but most of all Riza.

I'm a corny sap, aren't I?

"And what is it that you need to do?" asked Riza softly.

"I need to tell someone something. Something important."

"And who do you need to tell this something to?"

I met her eyes. "You."

This seemed to catch her off guard. Wow, she's perceptive, huh? Fifteen years, and she's got no idea.

"Why don't we meet up soon, at a restaurant?" I asked without thinking. If I had been thinking, I probably wouldn't have had the balls.

Point taken, Major General Armstrong. Point taken.

"How soon?" she asked.

"A couple days. I, er, need a little time to relearn how to walk."

She laughed and smiled and I wished she hadn't cut her hair, because it would've looked perfect if it had swung in the air then.

"Two days from now, at the bar near work. 20:00. Got it?"

"Yep." I said, getting through my confusion to reply.

"Good. It's a date."

She waved as she left, leaving me to smile dazedly and write in you.

A date, huh?

With my manly love returned,

Brigadier General Roy Mustang

I hope you liked it! Yes, I have read Diary of a Lovesick Mutant. I was hoping the similarities weren't that obvious...:( Thanks for reading and please review!