Author's Notes: Alrightiee! Semi-early update this time, but not really since the last chapter was late. (and sorry in advance for any type-os, I was too lazy to go over this thing with a fine tooth comb, so it isn't perfect)

Anyway, before we start; this chapter is dedicated the following people (in no particular order) Nanyoky and Pickles the Great! Hooray for those two for inspiring me and keeping me writing!

Warning: This chapter contains Royai. If you have any problems with the sweetest, most wonderful pairing in the whole entire show – then I suggest you don't read any farther.

-oo00oo-

Fifteen minutes later the two were walking at a brisk pace through the un-shoveled sidewalks. Riza looked straight ahead, while Havoc watched his feet. His toes were freezing, and the wind had blown out his cigarette.

"How much further do you think it'll be?" He asked, fingering the little book in his pocket. Susie May was probably growing impatient, and he hated to keep a date waiting.

"Just up there." Riza pointed ahead to a rusting iron gate surrounded by tall evergreen trees.

Riza struggled to pull it open once they reached it. Havoc had insisted that he had sprained his thumb just that afternoon and that his entire hand had stiffened up, making it impossible to grip things.

Once inside it wasn't hard to know where to look. Across the rows of somber gray head stones, two shimmering ice statues marked the way to the Hughes plot.

Hawkeye took wide strides, struggling not to lose her balance. Havoc followed close behind, tripping over the mountains of snow.

Details on the statues came into view. Riza recognized Gracia and Elicia, standing vigil over the grave of Maes Hughes. She stopped short. Something was lying at the foot of the grave, covered with sheets of snow. Havoc bumped into her and collapsed into a snow bank.

"Hey! How about some warning next time!?" He groaned, picking himself up and brushing off his heavy coat.

Riza sprinted the rest of the way, dropping to her knees and leaning over the figure that lay face down in the snow. She knew who it was. It couldn't possibly be anybody other then Roy Mustang.

Gently, she rolled the body over. It was stiff and cold as ice. Not a good sign.

"Please be alive. Please be alive…"Riza pleaded under her breath.

Mustang's face was expressionless. His eyes were closed tightly, and icicles stuck to his ink black hair.

She pulled off her gloves and placed her right ring finger and middle finger on his neck to check for a pulse. His skin was cold, and the freezing air nipped at her fingertips.

She waited for a second, not daring to breathe. Even her heart seemed to stop beating.

Something moved beneath her fingers. She took in a sharp gasp of air, not wanting to believe it. She felt it again. The soft, slow beat of a pulse. Roy Mustang was alive. Barely.

Hawkeye allowed herself a few fleeting moments of pure relief before she went back to work. He wouldn't be alive much longer if she didn't do something.

"Havoc, give me your coat then go for help." Riza ordered, fighting to keep the panic she felt out of her voice.

"But it's cold! You want two hypothermiacks on your hands tonight?!" He asked franticly.

"You'll be fine as long as you keep moving." She reached an arm out for his coat without looking away from Mustang, as though if taking her eyes off of him for one second would let death take him away.

"Yes, sir." Havoc grumbled, pulling it off and handing it to her. He turned and jogged away, disappearing into the night.

Hawkeye watched him leave, feeling more alone then ever. How long would it be before he got back? How much longer did Mustang have?

She had learned basic survival skills in boot camp. Closing her eyes, Riza tried to remember.

Remove the victim from the harsh elements.

Riza opened her eyes and looked around. There weren't any shelters in sight, nothing but rows and rows of head stones. Not even a caretaker's shack could be scene. She could vaguely remember being told not to move the person too much anyway. She'd have to do her best with what she had.

Shakily, she spread out Havoc's coat over the snow. The thick wool would provide some insulation from the snow. Not a lot, but enough until proper help could come.

As carefully as she could, Riza tried to roll Mustang's stiff body onto it, at last succeeding and then covering him with her own coat.

Now what? She wondered. The most logical thing was to try to keep him warm, but she didn't have anything to use. Mustang was the alchemist, not her. She couldn't transmute snow into boiling water, or heat up rocks so they glowed red with warmth.

And then she remembered something else. Something the instructor had mentioned, to be used should it be a true emergency, one where the victim couldn't be moved somewhere warm immediately. The words rang through her head as clearly as if she'd just heard them spoken.

'In dire circumstances, skin-to-skin contact can be used to keep the victim's core temperature from falling further.'

"Oh god." Hawkeye was barely aware that she had spoken. She looked awkwardly down at the man before her, as if seeing him for the first time. Did 'skin-to-skin' mean what she thought it did?

Riza swallowed. She had sworn to protect Colonel Roy Mustang at all costs, even if it meat her life. This was no exception. Besides, it was strictly in the line of duty. Just one officer saving the life of another. Nothing was wrong with that. It was a good thing.

Shaking, Riza pulled off her uniform her jacket, then her olive colored t-shirt. The cold struck immediately, numbing her. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she struggled to pull off the lose fitting uniform bottoms and her thick leather boots. She left her underwear and bra on; not even Colonel Roy Mustang could get her to part with those.

Undressing had been easy enough; nobody was around to see her, except for the colonel, who was unconscious anyway. It was what was coming next that Hawkeye dreaded. Removing Mustang's clothing was going to be significantly more awkward.

"It's all in the line of duty." Riza said aloud, trying to gain the courage. She'd never done anything like it before in her life, she'd never even considered doing anything like it - or at least she wouldn't admit to herself that she'd considered it. What control did she have over her dreams anyway?

Taking a deep breath and pulling away the makeshift blanket, Hawkeye set to work, regretting that she hadn't left her clothes on for that part of the job.

Taking off the colonel's jacket was easy enough. She set it aside and started to unbutton his shirt, trying to avoid looking directly at his bare chest. But soon Hawkeye found that her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, and several times her gaze lingered longer then it should have. Shaking her head to clear any unnecessary thoughts, she continued working, pulling off his socks and boots and tossing them aside. She paused for a minute. She'd taken off everything she could except for his pants, the one thing she'd been trying to avoid.

Closing her eyes, she fumbled to undo the belt buckle.

"It's all in the line of duty." She muttered firmly, trying to slide them off gingerly. Thank god he's wearing boxers. Riza thought as she cracked open an eyelid and saw a glimpse of the pale blue cotton

Breathing hard from the effort of undressing the stiff body, she gave the pants one last tug and they came off completely.

Riza took a deep breath, then laid down next to Mustang, closer then she would have liked. She pulled her coat over the two of them. It wasn't quite long enough to cover them completely, and she had to spread lose clothes over their feet.

She settled back down, then, gritting her teeth, placed her arm across Mustang's chest.

His skin felt like ice, and she shivered as the freezing chill set into her as well. She lay perfectly still, looking up at the night sky.

"Uhhh…" There was a soft groaning, the sound made Riza freeze.

-oo00oo-

Mustang was jerked backward as the car plummeted into the water. Darkness was surrounding him. He was falling. Down, down, down, down. It didn't seem to end. He hadn't heard a splash. Where was the water? Wasn't it supposed to be wet? He couldn't see. Where was everyone?

As suddenly as it had started, the falling sensation stopped. He lay frozen, not daring to move. Was he dead? Was that what it felt like to die? He opened his eyes and found, much to his surprise, that he could see. Above him was a round silver moon, stars twinkled around it.

Roy took a second to adjust to his new surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that he was wearing nothing but his boxers. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying next to something warm and soft. Groaning, he tilted his head to see what it was.

Riza Hawkeye was lying next to him, looking like she wanted nothing better then to murder him right then and there.

He felt his heart skip a beat. He'd been sure she was dead. He'd seen Tony shoot her. His dream was tangled with reality. He wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't any more.

"…Hawkeye?" He asked blankly, not wanting to believe what he saw.

"Yes, sir?" She asked. Her eyes glared defensively up, as if daring him to ask what she was doing there.

"Who am I?" He asked.

Hawkeye gave him a curious look. "Colonel Roy Mustang."

"You know me?"

"Yes. I know you. Sir – are you suffering from amnesia?"

"No…I was just checking something." He turned his head to see the grave stone of Maes Hughes a few feet away. He was back. It had all be a horrible dream, a horrible dream with some very beautiful parts, much like real life. There was just one thing that puzzled him.

"Lieutenant, why are you-"

Riza cut him off before he could get the words from his mouth. "You are suffering from hypothermia, sir. Because desirable treatment could not be immediately administered, I sent Lieutenant Havoc for help, then proceeded to use emergency measures."

Roy struggled to get a grip on everything she had said. "…Emergency measures?" He asked.

"Skin-to-skin contact." Hawkeye said quickly, her cheeks turning scarlet. She turned away so that her back was to him.

Mustang wasn't sure how to react. He was lying in nothing but his boxers, next to his first lieutenant –also in nothing but her underwear- who he had up to a minute ago thought was dead. What was a person supposed to say at a time like this? He couldn't pretend that he wasn't pleasantly surprised to wake and find her, but saying so would most likely get him shot. His dream had seemed so real, so true in every detail. But now it was exposed for what it really was; a dream, nothing more then a cold induced fantasy. 'That wasn't really the way things would have been'. Roy told himself bitterly. 'It's just how you wanted them to be. You're too afraid to face the truth, so you hide behind dreams and speculation.' He fell back into the guilty feelings that had plagued him earlier that evening. 'Dreams and speculation, wild guess work…' His mind echoed, mocking him.

"Do you think you feel well enough to get dressed?" Riza asked, breaking the silence.

Mustang had never felt less like anything in his life, but he was afraid of what Hawkeye might do if he said no. So instead he tried to sit up, his head spinning as soon as he moved. "Yeah…" he muttered, reaching out for his shirt with one hand while massaging his throbbing forehead with the other. His fingers felt numb and stiff, and they tingled when he tried to move them.

Riza wrapped herself in one of the coats and turned away, in an attempt to give Roy some privacy. Although seeing as she was the one who undressed him in the first place, it really wasn't necessary.

Mustang struggled to pull on his pants, losing his balance and falling several times. His fingers refused to co-operate with him, but after several attempts he managed to get them on. His shirt was much more difficult, the neat row of buttons proving to be a greater challenge then he'd expected. After several failed attempts, he gave in.

"Lieutenant, would you …um…?" Riza turned around at the sound of her name - or rather her title – to see what Mustang needed. Roy thought he saw the flicker of a sympathetic smile, but it was probably a trick of the light, she didn't look like she was in the smiling mood.

Without answering, she took two quick steps so that she was roughly a foot from him and began to do up the buttons, working her way from bottom to top. Her fingers moved quickly and dexterously despite the cold, pulling the tiny porcelain disks through the holes in the fabric.

Mustang noticed how close she seemed to be standing, her head was mere inches from his, bent in concentration as she worked. Her burgundy eyes fixed on their mark, moving upward almost mechanically as she finished each button. Mustang watched her delicate hands as they moved their way up, soon they were at his neck. Her warm fingertips brushed against his skin, making it tingle. She moved to the last button.

"Leave it." He muttered. His hand flew up instinctively, catching hers before she could finish. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his finger tips, and Mustang felt something stir inside him. Before he knew it, his other hand was on the back of her head, his fingers undoing her hair clip.

Hawkeye stood frozen; she even seemed to have stopped breathing. Roy pulled the hair clip away and blond locks came tumbling gracefully down her shoulders, framing her emotionless face. He let the clip drop, not even noticing the dull 'thunk' that it made as it hit the snow. His hand moved down her back, pulling her closer. Hawkeye took several staggered short steps in, so that the tips of their toes touched. Her eyes looked blankly ahead as if she were in a trance. She was closer then she'd ever been before, her fingers still clenched around the final undone button. Her face was close to his, her lips were less then an inch away.

...And that's where this chapter ends, mostly because I didn't have the energy to write more. It feels a tad disjointed, but…well; I guess I'm not too disappointed, or I wouldn't have posted at all. Let me take this opportunity to point out the following: This fan fiction is ANIME based. So if you noticed any missing –cough- details, then that's why. Also, skin-to-skin contact really is a cure for hypothermia. No foolin'! Sorry for the random ending…

EDIT May 22th, 2008: Oh. My. God. It would appear that great minds think alike. There's a RoyxEd fic using a similar idea out there, and I'd just like to give a shout out to the author; kytyngurl2 and her fic "Shiver". "Shiver" was publushed 07-22-05, well before mine. I didn't steal her idea or anything - it's just one of those freaky things that happens!