September 3

"Dear Aunt Chris, Ada, Juliet, Sophie, Elinor, Veronica, Claire, Lucy and Violet,

I thought that the weather would cool off some after all the thunderstorms we've had lately. But it's been even worse the past few days. Yesterday was especially horrible.

Riza and I had been listening to a radio program, but it was one we'd both heard before. The heat was making us lazy and irritable, so neither of us wanted to move, or do much of anything at all. I was lying on the sofa, and Miss Riza was draped sideways over the armchair, each of us trying to convince the other to get up and switch the radio station or just turn the damn thing off. Finally Riza decided she'd had enough. She jumped up, turned the radio off, and glared down at me with her hands on her hips.

'That's it. I can't stand this anymore. We're going on a walk,' she said.

I told her she must be out of her mind if she thought I was going to go hiking out in the miserable, sticky heat, but she just shook her head and got this stubborn glint in her eye, and told me it was better than lying around the stuffy living room for the third day in a row. I grumbled a bit, but I followed her to the kitchen and found myself making sandwiches while she filled a thermos with lemonade.

She led me into the woods, but not along the usual path, choosing instead an unmarked trail that I'd never noticed before. I had to admit that it was much cooler under the trees, and for a while I thought that a cool clearing someplace ahead was the only destination she had in mind. Then we came over the crest of a hill, where the trees thinned out and we could feel a nice breeze. But instead of a clearing, there was a lake ahead of us. I had no idea it was there, even after six months of wandering around and exploring these woods.

'You're right; this is much better than listening to another trite radio drama,' I told her. She smiled, and said it was one of her secret hiding places.

Only, as we soon found out, her hidden lake wasn't as secret as she'd thought."

"No, no, you need one that's a bit flatter…here, try this one," Roy said, offering Riza a small, smooth stone.

She dropped the defective rock into the water at their feet with a soft plunk, and then positioned herself as he'd instructed. Roy frowned slightly and moved behind her to adjust her stance.

"All right," he said, placing on hand on her wrist and guiding her arm back and forth in an arc. "Just like that, and then you flick your wrist like this as you let it go. Ok?"

"Ok," she replied doubtfully. Roy stepped back, gave her the "go on, then" gesture, and smiled brightly. With another rather skeptical look at him, Riza reared back and let her stone fly. It skipped over the placid surface of the lake three times.

"Three! Not bad!" he beamed at her, and promptly began scanning the ground around their feet for another suitable stone to throw.

"How on earth did you get that first one to skip seven times?" she asked with a faint trace of envy.

"Loads of practice," he answered, shrugging. "There's this pond in a park near my aunt's house, and I spent a lot of time skipping rocks when I was…er, when I was…bored."

"When you were cutting classes, you mean?" Riza asked with an arched eyebrow. Roy grinned somewhat sheepishly, and Riza couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Well, it wasn't all the time, or anything," he chuckled. "But there were a few teachers I didn't mind avoiding." He waded a few steps farther out into the lake, careful not to wet the cuffs of his rolled up pants. Riza followed cautiously, as the hemline of her dress was still well above the water.

"The water feels nice, doesn't it?" she said, bending to pluck another stone from the beneath the clear, cold water.

"Yeah, it's fantastic," he sighed. "How come no one goes swimming out here? Seems a shame not to."

"Too far from town, I suppose," she frowned. "I've wondered whether anyone else even knows about this place, though clearly someone must," she said, gesturing to the wooden dock a short distance away. "But I've spent whole days just reading and dangling my feet in the water, and never seen a soul." Something about her tone and the choice of words made Roy shoot her an odd look.

"What, don't you come here to swim?" Roy asked, incredulous. Riza flushed.

"Not really, no."

"What do you mean, 'not really?'" he asked, watching her more closely now. She was biting her lips, and didn't answer right away. "Don't tell me…" he said slowly. "Riza…Don't you know how to swim?" Her eyes flashed, and her cheeks flushed darker.

"No. I don't," she said shortly, balling her hands into fists at her sides. She stood up straighter and raised her chin defiantly, as though daring him to tease her about it.

"Want me to teach you, then?" he said brightly, instead. She blinked rapidly in surprise, and Roy had to bite his tongue to hold back his laugh. It was too easy to wind her up, sometimes. "Come on, I'm serious. It's not all that difficult. I can at least show you enough so you won't drown if you ever fall into a body of water unexpectedly." She rolled her eyes at that, but started to smile again.

"Because I'm so likely to encounter large, unexpected bodies of water in the middle of the town I've lived in my whole life?" she asked, amused.

"Hey, you never know! Suppose one of those damn thunderstorms drops enough rain to flood the creek by your place? Or turns one of those old wheat fields into a swamp? Or…or a water main bursts and floods your basement? Then what would you do?"

"Keep away from it. Find higher ground. Not go down into the basement," she answered, dryly.

"Aw, come on. You're not scared, are you?" he teased. In one smooth movement, he stripped off his shirt and tossed it onto the grassy bank behind them, where they'd left the bag with their picnic lunch. His pants followed a moment later.

With a slightly wicked grin, he turned and cut cleanly through the water, surfacing several dozen feet farther away from shore as Riza looked on with mild alarm.

"Mr. Mustang, be careful," she said weakly. "It's deeper than it looks…" He tossed his wet hair back and waved.

"Come on!" he cried. "It'll be fun!"

"What, you mean right now?!" she sputtered. "But—" she glanced down at her flimsy summer dress with a mixture of dismay and confusion. Roy answered her unspoken question.

"Oh, just come in! Your dress will dry in five minutes once we're out of the water. We'll just lie in the sun for a while before we head back. Come on!"

"But…but I don't—" she stammered, nervously brushing her hands over her skirt. Roy ducked under the water again, swimming back towards her this time.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he said solemnly, standing up again just a few feet away from her. "I promise." And he stretched out his hand. Water ran down his bare chest in tiny little rivulets, and his wet boxer shorts clung to his hips in a way that would have made Riza flush if she'd been able to tear her eyes away from his face.

Roy could see her uncertainty at war with the trust she had in him and in their friendship. She wanted to believe him. He'd never let her down before now, but he'd also never asked her to essentially risk her life, before. Roy opened his mouth to tell her to forget it; that they didn't have to if she honestly was scared of the water. But then Riza slowly reached out and placed her hand in his.

"If you let me drown, I'll haunt you from beyond the grave," she said, seriously. Roy grinned.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

They waded deeper, until the water came just to their waists. Reminding Riza that her feet could still touch the bottom, and that he would stay right beside her the whole time, Roy spent several minutes showing her how to float on her back. He gently prodded her spine whenever she started to fold in on herself and sink, always keeping a steady hand outstretched beneath her in case she floundered, while steadfastly ignoring the semi-transparent material of her dress as it billowed out around her in the water.

Living in a houseful of women who were very comfortable with themselves and their bodies meant that Roy had more practical knowledge of the female figure than most boys his age. His aunt had always been very matter-of-fact about the human body (and indeed, had often volunteered information Roy wished she'd kept to herself), and he'd seen his 'sisters' in varying states of undress on a fairly regular basis since he was old enough to recognize that boys and girls were built differently. Roy was therefore far less likely than most teenagers to be reduced to a stammering, sweating mass of lust and nerves at the mere sight of a scantily clad girl.

He was still a teenage boy, however, and there were just certain things he couldn't help but notice about Riza's nascent curves. So he reminded himself that Riza was his friend, that she trusted him, and that he wanted to be worthy of that hard-earned trust. And he very carefully kept his hands (and eyes) from wandering, taking pains to touch her only when necessary. It was worth the effort, he decided, to keep things from becoming awkward between them. Since Riza remained oblivious to his internal struggles, her innocence only reinforced his decision and made it easier to ignore the fluttering in his chest.

Once Riza felt comfortable just being in the water, confident in her ability to stay afloat on her own, she allowed Roy to lead her even farther out, where the water came up above their shoulders. Over the course of the next hour, Roy taught Riza how to propel herself under the surface of the water, as he'd done earlier, and how to hold her breath and slowly let it out through her nose so she could stay under longer. He had just started to explain the mechanics of the breaststroke (as she treaded water contentedly beside him) when they heard voices approaching the lake from the trees behind them.

Roy drew in a sharp breath, looking over at Riza and the clingy material of her wet sundress. He was also painfully aware of his own distinct lack of clothing. If anyone from the village saw them together, they'd make assumptions. The gossip would spread like wildfire, and Riza would be mortified and ashamed.

"I thought you said no one else came out here?" he said softly. Riza started to stand, her eyes wide. But she glanced down at herself, blanched, and sank back under the water.

"They don't," she breathed. She wasn't the swearing type, but Roy could see the expletive on her face as plain as though she'd shouted it.

He looked around quickly, noting the thick clumps of reeds growing along the edge of the lake.

"Over there—?" he gestured to the reeds with his chin, and Riza nodded quickly.

"Come on," she whispered, wrapping her hands around his arm and tugging him towards the foliage. He shook his head.

"They'll see my clothes and our other stuff," he explained. "But they won't know that I'm not here alone. Go!" Understanding flickered over her face, and she squeezed his arm briefly in gratitude before ducking under the water and gliding noiselessly to the water's edge, just as he'd taught her. Roy waited until she was safely ensconced in the reeds before propelling himself closer to the dock, splashing noisily.

All the time, the voices were drawing nearer. As Roy slicked his wet hair back with one hand, he finally spotted the group of five teens approaching the water's edge. They'd already realized that they had company.

"Hullo!" one of the boys said cheerfully, waving and squinting at him. "Who's that, then?" The other boy nudged him and mumbled something under his breath. Roy groaned internally, but lifted a hand in greeting. The second boy was Harry, one of the Terrible Trio.

"Hello!" he called back. "Roy Mustang. Mr. Crofter and I have already met, but I don't think I recognize the rest of you?" Harry had the grace to blush at the mention of their previous meeting, but he ducked his head in acknowledgement. The first boy, tall and blue-eyed with sandy blonde hair, glanced between them with interest, but shrugged and carried on with his greeting.

"I'm Peter Kingsley, and this is my little brother Edmund," he said, clapping his hand on the shoulder of a shorter, darker boy beside him, who nodded somewhat sulkily. "Dr. James is a close friend of our father's; he mentioned you a while back. It's good to meet you at last," Peter continued with a bright smile.

"Likewise," Roy managed, smiling back in spite of himself. Peter seemed nice enough, at least. He recalled Riza saying that Harry Crofter wasn't so bad when he wasn't hanging around Tom and Rick. Maybe this Peter person was a good influence, then. Roy turned his attention to the two girls standing slightly behind Harry. They seemed to be carrying on a whispering, giggling sort of conversation. Peter noticed where Roy was looking, grinned again, and took it upon himself to complete the introductions.

"The twiggy blonde is our cousin, Polly Plummer. And that's her friend Jill, who's visiting for the summer." Hearing their names, the two girls looked around. Polly, who seemed to be the bolder of the two, stepped forward.

"Pleasure," she said, tossing her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder. "We'd love to join you, but Jill and I were wondering whether you're fit for female company," she continued innocently. Jill choked and flushed before hissing and swatting at her friend's arm.

"Way to be subtle, Polls," Edmund murmured, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards. Roy very carefully did not turn his head to the quivering clump of reeds he could see out of the corner of his eye. He had no doubts that Riza's hysterical (though silent) laughter would give her away if this went on too long. He cleared his throat.

"Take a closer look at the pile of clothes there, and you tell me," he said saucily. But even as he said so, he realized that Riza had left her sandals beside his shoes. If any of the others noticed them sitting beside his shirt and trousers, the jig would be up. But Polly was giggling.

"I hope that means you've got something on in there, because I've been thinking about this lake all day, and I'm not about to let propriety stop me from cooling off in this god awful heat. So, fair warning, and all that."

She had already kicked off her shoes and was peeling her blouse off to reveal a modest one piece bathing suit. Her cousins shrugged and followed suit, and even Harry was cheerfully shedding his clothes without compunction. Only Jill hung back, until Polly pounced on her, threatening to assist her. With much giggling and squealing, all five were soon in the water paddling and splashing about.

Roy put Jill's lingering fears to rest by clambering up on the dock to dive gracefully back in. At the sight of his black boxer shorts, Polly nudged Jill knowingly. Jill sputtered and tried to act as though she hadn't been expecting to get an eyeful, while the other three boys snickered.

After a short but rather exuberant splashing fight, Roy dragged himself back onto the dock and leaned back on his elbows in the sun, hoping Riza had taken advantage of the distractions to get out of the water and find a drier place to hide. A moment later, Peter hauled himself up to sit beside Roy.

"So how'd you find this place, anyhow? I thought it was something of a town secret," he asked Roy. He didn't seem at all put out, just curious, and so Roy pursed his lips and told him as much of the truth as he could without compromising Riza.

"I didn't even know it was here until today. When I left the house, I was just thinking about finding a nice cool clearing somewhere in the shade. But then I saw the water, and I couldn't resist having a swim," he explained.

"Lucky find, then," Peter smiled. Roy smiled back, liking Peter more each moment. "We don't really come out here that much, either. Technically, the lake's on Master Hawkeye's property, so I suppose you've more right to it than any of us actually do," Peter said, nodding in the direction of his friends and relatives.

They'd started a game that looked like some sort of modified version of blind man's bluff. Chancing a glance down the shore while Peter's attention was elsewhere, Roy noticed that the clump of reeds Riza had been hiding in was now empty. He wondered whether she'd hidden in the woods or simply headed for home. Realizing that Peter was still talking, he turned his attention back to the older boy.

"Ever since Mrs. Hawkeye died, no one ever comes out here," he was saying. "It seemed a waste, so sometimes we sneak out here on the really hot days. Some of the guys are kinda worried about getting caught, but…well, Master Hawkeye's habits are pretty notorious, and so we decided to chance it…" he trailed off, watching Roy from the corner of his eye. Ah, was that what he was on about?

"I doubt he'd mind if he did find you all out here," Roy reassured him. "But I won't mention it to him, if you'd rather I didn't." Peter's wary expression cleared.

"Thanks, mate. Say, the doc told my dad and me about what you did for Miss Hawkeye, a few months back. I just wanted to say I think that's real decent of you, helping her out like that." Roy flushed at the praise.

"It wasn't anything special," he demurred, rubbing the back of his neck. "Anyone would have done the same in my place." But Peter was shaking his head.

"No, they wouldn't have. I mean, I met a few of the other boarding pupils, here and there. Those that pulled their heads out of their books long enough to even notice the kid needed a hand probably would've been the same ones who'd put her in that condition in the first place," he said, his kind features hardening slightly. Roy's fists clenched reflexively.

"Miss Hawkeye mentioned that some of them picked on her," he said, grinding his teeth. He saw the fleeting expression of surprise on the older boy's face. "I didn't want to upset her by asking too many questions, but I did wonder whether any of them had actually hurt her."

Peter stared at him for a long minute, before glancing back to the lake. The other teens were still playing their game, although Edmund seemed to be 'it' now instead of Harry. Peter kept his eyes focused on his little brother as he spoke.

"Dr. James is the only doctor around, for miles and miles," he said softly. "And he's had to fix her up more than once. He never breathed a word to anyone about it, ya know. Confidential and all that. But we ain't blind. Little girl turns up at his door with a broken wrist or a black eye, we notice. And it's definitely not her daddy beatin' on her. If it were, then the doc would have driven right over there and made a hell of a fuss over it, alchemist or no. That's the kind of man he is," he said, his tone gruffly affectionate.

"I knew I liked him," Roy murmured. Peter shot him a quick smile.

"Anyway, each time she wound up hurt, one of them students would turn up at the train station the next morning with all his things, lookin' like he'd had the fear of God put into him. Never to be seen nor heard from again. But it still happened more often than it should've, if you ask me," he finished.

"No, it never should've happened at all," Roy agreed, balling his fists and thinking of a pair of wide, fearful brown eyes. He looked over at Peter again. "But why are you telling me all this?"

Peter shrugged, pursing his lips a little.

"The Hawkeyes are a bit…different. From the rest of us, I mean. Not that they act hoighty toity about it, but they ain't quite the same as the other folks around here, and we all know it. Even so, that don't mean that we don't care about 'em. I guess I just don't want you thinking we'd let a little kid get picked on without having something to say about it."

Roy nodded slowly.

"I should probably be offended by what you're implying," he said after a moment. "But as it happens, I'm glad someone else is looking out for her. She's a sweet kid, and she deserves better than what those little bastards put her through," he said. "I consider her a friend. I'd never do anything to hurt her." The two boys stared at each other for a moment, and then Peter nodded and stuck out his hand.

"I really am glad to have met you," Peter said, as they shook hands.

"Me, too," Roy said. "I, uh, didn't have the best first impression of the other kids around here." Peter raised his eyebrows, and Roy grinned. "You may want to ask your friend Harry about that one." Peter grinned back at him.

"Ah, you had a run in with Tom Granger and Rick Shepherd, didn't you? They can, um, come on a little strong. Sorry about that. But you know, you're welcome to hang out with us anytime," he said, gesturing to the group in the lake. "And Miss Hawkeye, too, if she wanted," he added a little shyly.

"Thanks. I'll make sure she knows that. I should probably be getting back soon, though," he said, pushing himself to his feet. "I've already been here longer than I meant to be."

He waved goodbye to the others, pulling on his trousers to choruses of: "see you around!" and "don't be a stranger!" Scooping Riza's shoes into the bag with the forgotten sandwiches, he made his escape and plunged into the trees, wondering where Riza had gone and whether she'd heard any of what Peter had been saying.

Just as he was starting to think he'd gotten himself lost, Riza dropped gracefully out of the tree right in front of him, and he jumped about a foot in the air.

"Riza! Cripes, you gave me a heart attack!" he cried.

"Sorry," she smiled. "I was starting to wonder whether you were coming."

"Well since our swim lesson failed miserably, I thought we could at least salvage the picnic," he said, holding up the bag with one hand and fishing out her shoes with the other. She took them gratefully and slipped them on.

"I wouldn't call it a complete failure," she admonished. "I feel quite certain that I could survive any number of basement floods, now." Roy pretended to throw the thermos at her, and she ducked behind the tree, laughing.

"All right, you," he said fondly. "I'm starving; is there a place nearby we can relax for a bit? Since the lake was taken over by hostile forces?"

"Yes, this way," she said, already leading the way back into the woods. "Though I wouldn't call the Kingsley boys 'hostile,' really…"

"Peter seemed a decent sort," Roy prompted, curious about Riza's take on her neighbors.

"He really is. Something of a golden boy: hard worker, good at sports, charming but humble, strong moral principles…beloved by all, in general," she said, dropping onto a large rock in a pleasantly shady clearing as she finished.

"Huh. No wonder his brother looked sour. Hard to live in the shadow of a guy like that," Roy mused, settling down beside her.

"You mean Edmund?" Riza asked, handing Roy his sandwich. "He's not a bad sort, either. Just quieter and more reserved. He's very clever, but keeps a lot to himself, I think. I'm not always sure what to make of him, but I do know he's got a good heart."

"Hopefully they'll be a good influence on our good friend Harry," Roy said as he unwrapped his sandwich. Riza frowned a little.

"He doesn't normally hang around the Kingsleys, actually. But now that you mention it, I think that has more to do with the presence of Miss Jill and Miss Polly," she replied.

"Faint heart never won fair maiden?" Roy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Something like that," Riza acknowledged with a faint smirk. "It's probably a good thing you left when you did. Otherwise you'd have ended up in another ridiculous brawl over a girl."

"Oh god, you're right," Roy laughed. "They'd have stormed the estate with pitchforks and torches for sure, this time. But hey, at least we know to avoid the lake on hot days now," he added.

"We don't have to avoid it so much as dress appropriately the next time," she countered. "Thanks for covering for me, by the way. If anyone had seen me looking like that, I may have had to endure another of Mrs. Davis's lectures."

"Another—? What on earth did you do to earn the first one?" Roy asked, shocked. Riza flushed.

"She meant well. She took it upon herself to, um…well. When I turned twelve…she decided that someone should explain certain things to me…" Roy choked on a snort of laughter, and Riza covered her pink face with her hands. "It just kept going on and on," she mumbled. "I couldn't look her in the eye for months."

"It can't possibly have been as bad as The Talk my aunt gave me," Roy protested. "She had diagrams and anatomy charts and everything."

"Mrs. Davis invited me over to make bread one afternoon. She didn't need diagrams, because she rolled the dough into shapes to illustrate her points," Riza said, looking up at last.

"Dear lord. Ok, yeah, you win," Roy conceded. "Bread dough," he snorted again, rising to his feet and brushing the crumbs from his trousers.

"I don't think it's possible to actually kill someone by extreme embarrassment, but Mrs. Davis sure gave it her best shot," Riza said, accepting his hand and pulling herself to her feet.

"Yeah, we definitely want to avoid a lecture on propriety from the town busybody," Roy chortled as they walked slowly back to the main path. "Remind me to steer clear of her if we see her in town, won't you?"

"Consider it done," Riza replied with a smile.

A.N. An extra-long chapter as a reward for your great patience. Thank you all again so very much for the reviews, follows and favorites! As ever, feedback is very deeply appreciated :)

xoxo Janie