A/N: Hey guys! I'm so thrilled with the feedback I got on the last chapter and I'm really grateful for all the alerts and the follows; you are fantastic people. A moment of thanks for my beta, Liv, because without her I would be lost and so would all of you.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!

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Chapter 2

Perhaps Riza would have had time to be bored if she was not utterly amused at the entirety of events unfolding before her. Armstrong and Havoc were on the dance floor; Olivier looked perfectly disagreeable while her flamboyant date grinned wickedly in triumph as he had been all night. It was particularly funny that she had to keep repositioning his wandering hands and Riza couldn't help but roll her eyes at that. Typical Havoc.

Rebecca, despite her vows to snag a man that evening, couldn't fool Riza as easily as she tricked everyone else. The longing in her expression while she tried not to watch Havoc have a good time was clear as day, and even though she kept a happy face while talking to Fuery in the booths, Riza knew from her spot against the wall that her roommate only wanted one man's attention and he was absolutely oblivious to it.

She sipped at her drink, feeling its warmth as it slid down her throat. Even though Rebecca wasn't on Havoc's arm, and Olivier was scowling as if she wanted to use her very glare to set the world on fire, Riza still knew that everyone was having a good time. She felt out of place and unnecessary. The feeling was a familiar companion to her, for although she was well-respected at the compound and had her friends, she still lacked a connection that could make her truly feel something.

A sigh slipped from her. Getting out of the compound seemed like a good idea at the time but watching the bodies sway on the dance floor and hearing the laughter from the dining area was making her feel even more alone than usual. She brushed it off as best she could; someone like her wasn't exactly fit for human interaction anyway.

After getting a refill on her drink, she thanked the man behind the bar and made her way back to where Rebecca and Fuery were sitting and took her place across from therm.

"There you are!" Rebecca cried over the jubilant music that danced through the air. "I was wondering where you went."

"To the bathroom," Riza lied with a tight smile, taking a sip of her glass; she didn't want to worry her. To worry others would be to ruin their nights and besides, Riza wasn't exactly fond of being the center of attention.

"Oh. You should have told me! We could have gone together!"

Fuery grimaced slightly. "You mean girls actually do that?"

"I am not a girl, Fuery," Rebecca sniffed. She may have had just a tinge too much alcohol in her system to be talking so freely. "I am a full-blooded woman. See?" She stuck out her chest a little farther than she needed to and Fuery quickly averted his eyes. "There's a difference. Girls don't have girls."

"My mistake," he squeaked.

Riza threw the young man an apologetic look. "Ignore her," she said.

"Don't ignore me!" Rebecca pouted and leaned on the table in a very unlady-like fashion. "I'm always being ignored and no one ever takes me seriously. I just want to be loved! Is that so bad?"

"I take you seriously," Fuery assured her, though he still wouldn't look in case she was flaunting her boobs.

"So do I," Riza murmured, though she knew that Rebecca was talking about a certain special someone whose attention was being diverted by an outrageously beautiful blonde on the dance floor.

"You guys don't count. You're my friends. You have to love me!"

"Havoc is your friend too, isn't he?" Riza knew she was being bold, but a part of her smirked internally when Rebecca's eyes snapped to her in an instant. Each of them knew what the other was saying. Tension hung in the air out of the sheer surprise on Rebecca's face before she decided to go for a nonchalant approach.

"I suppose he is."

Fuery looked suspiciously between them. "Am I missing something?"

"No," Rebecca said.

"Oh, come on, no one ever tells me anything."

"That's because you're too short."

Riza quickly turned her laugh into a cough and covered her mouth to hide her smile. Fuery looked at Rebecca in indignation.

"I am not short! And what the heck does that have to do with anything?!"

"I don't trust short people!"

"That doesn't even make any sense!"

"Sure it does; if a guy is shorter than me that makes him untrustworthy because I don't know if they're gonna be lookin' up my skirt or not."

He gaped at her. "I wouldn't do that! I'm not that short."

"Aha!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. "But you're saying you would do that if you were that short!"

"What? No!"

Riza slid the half-empty glass of champagne away from Rebecca and took it as her own even though she already had a drink; if Rebecca drank any more tonight, who knew what else she'd say. She wasn't exactly keen on privacy, and if she blurted out something she would regret in the morning, living with her would be insufferable for at least the next week. It was for Rebecca's protection as much as her own.

Fuery was still trying to defend himself against Rebecca's unreasonable attacks when a laughing Havoc and a flustered Armstrong emerged from the crowd of swaying bodies, both with beads of sweat glistening at their brows.

"I knew you were fast on your feet, sir, but I didn't know you were twice as graceful," Havoc said in his typically flirtatious way as his date sat next to Riza.

Olivier scowled at him. "I hope you're prepared for tomorrow's training session, Havoc." She didn't say it, but the unspoken or else hung in the air. Riza finished the rest of the woman's sentence in her head and cringed a bit at the threat of it.Her friend was ridiculously enthralled with a woman who was so ready to cause so much pain.

"I could say the same thing to you."

That seemed to fluster her more.

"Alright," Rebecca drawled, cutting off another protest from Fuery as she turned her attention to the two new arrivals, trying her best to appear unaffected by the obvious chemistry. "You guys look like you had a fun time."

"It was not fun," Olivier said sternly, though Havoc winked.

Rebecca looked to Riza with a grin that said I need to get the hell out of this booth. "Riza, you wanna dance?"

Riza glanced at Fuery who was tipping back another drink - poor guy needed some of that after trying to understand Rebecca's reasoning - and then at Havoc, who was not-so-secretly staring at Olivier's face as the woman crossed her arms over her chest obstinately and leaned back against the seat. Riza felt the need to evacuate just as much as Rebecca did.

"Alright."

She followed her friend out onto the dance floor and they held each other's hands in front of them, bopping to the music.

"Thanks," Rebecca said with a sudden sober relief.

"You're welcome," Riza responded with a smile. "You're kind of obvious, you know."

"Only to you." The women twirled and twisted. "It's those damned eyes of yours. You miss nothing, do you?"

"No."

"Didn't think so. And it scares me."

"You shouldn't be scared of telling me anything, Becca. You of all people know that I'm not a blabber mouth." Unlike someone else I know.

"Yeah, I know, but still. I didn't think I was that obvious."

Riza raised an eyebrow at her. "You haven't taken your eyes off him for a second since we met up with him in the lobby back at the compound. I'm not stupid."

"Well everyone else must be," Rebecca sighed. "Especially him. Why did I have to go and get attracted to such an idiot?"

"Beats me," Riza laughed, "maybe it's a rite of passage. I've been there and done that."

Rebecca looked at her curiously and Riza automatically disliked the scrutiny in her eyes. "You don't still like him, do you?"

"Of course not! That's a ridiculous question; we broke it off years ago."

"It's not that ridiculous. He's not bad to look at. In fact, he's so hot he might as well be smokin'. No pun intended."

Riza shook her head at her friend. No, her time with Havoc had run its course. She was happy that she could still call him a friend and that there were no hard feelings between them. Hell, happy wasn't even a strong enough word for it. To have such a fortunate ending in a romantic relationship was unusual and, to be honest, to have lost Havoc completely would have changed everything.

Still, she doubted that she'd ever find someone that she'd love unconditionally. It just wasn't in the cards for someone like her, a murderer with a cause. She didn't deserve that kind of happiness, and she'd come to terms with the fact that she'd have to live without it a long time ago. It didn't bother her anymore.

The two women danced for a couple of songs, their hair escaping from their bindings, and Rebecca's laugh louder than any other conversation on the dance floor. It was hard to deny that Riza was having a good time now that she was distracted from her thoughts; it had been so long since she'd been able to do anything for herself. Maybe she didn't deserve happiness, she'd take what came to her.

"I'm exhausted. Wanna grab another drink?" Rebecca asked, huffing, eyes glittering with the excitement.

Riza shook her head as the two of them made their way back to the booth. "No, actually I'm gonna go out for some air."

Havoc must have heard her say that, because his head perked up and he grinned at her as Rebecca went to the bar to grab herself a drink. "Mind if I tag along?" he asked. Her eyes caught on the outline of the cigarette carton in his pocket as he stood up and slung an arm around her neck.

"I don't care what you do," she said, knowing he'd do whatever he wanted anyway.

"Sweet. I'll be right back." He winked at Olivier who studiously ignored him and then half dragged Riza to the back door with a bounce in his step. Once outside, he pulled away from her and leaned against the brick wall. Goosebumps raced up her arms, but the chill of the night felt good against her heated skin.

Havoc's lighter made an orange spark in the dimness of the alleyway they stood in, lit only by a lantern at the very end some ten feet away. The glow of his cigarette turned into ash as he put it to his lips and slowly took a drag. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited, knowing that he'd talk when he had himself gathered.

"I think I'm in love with her," he finally said.

Riza nearly choked on her breath. "In love?" She could almost understand a fickle infatuation, but love? Havoc in love? He'd seemed severely allergic to the idea of it when they'd been together, and he'd known that explicitly romantic feelings were the last thing she was going to indulge in. Those few times he'd sputtered out the what ifs of loving her, with a flushed face, expecting her to reply. She'd stared at him wide-eyed, their skin pressed together in the dark, knowing full well that it was impossible anyway. "Don't say that."

"You're right," he'd whisper back as he kissed her, "I'm sorry."

Now, he grinned and she could see the whiteness of his teeth in the dark. "Jealous?"

She scowled instantly. "Don't be stupid."

"You're right. That was stupid." He sighed and held the cigarette between his fingers. "I don't know how else to describe it, Riza. She's. . .I know she's a hard ass but there's something about her."

Riza stared at him, wishing there was more light so she could read his expression. Right now, all she could see was his profile in the dark, staring ahead at the wall in front of them. "There'd have to be something about her considering she has the social skills of a grizzly bear."

"I like my women aggressive."

"Clearly."

"She hardly even talks to me. Can barely stand to look me in the eye. And yet, with her, I just. . .feel it. Ya know?" He put the cigarette to his lips again and then breathed out.

She had to take a moment to rub her head. This secretive little love triangle was going to wear her out if she was the middle-ground confidant. Not that she minded, because she liked to be of use to her friends, but it would be exhausting and potentially painful for everyone involved.

"I don't know," she whispered.

He was quiet for a moment. "Oh. Right." Another moment as he kissed his cigarette. "What do I do, Riza?"

She was almost amused that he was asking her for advice, particularly because she was the least skilled when it came to any sort of love. Her father had forsaken her as a child, paying more mind to his extensive research as she kept the house for him; any love she'd held for him had died along with her mother, before her memories were even concrete.

Havoc had been special to her, but no more special than he was now. A friend she cared for deeply, someone she'd hate to lose. Just because there had been more intimate between them than the conversation they were having now didn't mean that it was love.

After a moment of contemplation, she said, "You do realize who you're talking to, right?"

He sighed and threw the butt of his cigarette on the ground, snuffing it out with his boot. "You're the cleverest person I know. I thought I might as well take a crack at it."

"If it's meant to be, it'll happen," she told him with as much faith as she had on the matter. "No need to rush into things."

His body suddenly tightened and she sensed an unwelcomed change in conversation.

"I could die any day, Hawkeye," he said unflinchingly. She could feel her muscles become taut, her jaw clenching. "I could die without having ever loved somebody in this world. And now that I think I might have finally found it. . .the thought of dying without her actually knowing, even if she hates my guts, is unbearable."

"Don't you say that," she spat, stepping in front of him and leaning in his face. "Don't you dare say that. You're not going to die. Not tomorrow, not next year. You're going to live to be an old, married man with twenty children and a dog. Do you understand me?" Her voice was hot and fierce, unbridled and louder than she wanted it to be. His words cut across her mind over and over and each time it made her even more furious. "You're not going to die, Havoc."

His eyes glittered in the darkness. "You never know for sure."

"I know. I'm not going to let you die."

He frowned at her and pushed away from the wall, standing close enough to her now that she could feel his body heat. "I'm not worth protecting, Riza. Get your priorities straight."

She stood her ground firmly. "Not until you straighten yours. Now get your ass back in there and stop having idiotic thoughts; you're on a date, remember?"

He blinked at her for a moment before shaking his head with a slight tick to his mouth. "You're incredible." Her anger froze as he wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her head in, planting his lips against her forehead. She thought it should have made her uncomfortable like his closeness usually did, but this was Havoc. . . and he was in love with someone else. "Thank you."

She yanked herself away and leaned against the opposite wall. "Go on, lover boy."

A laugh pushed through his mouth. "You coming back?"

"Not yet. I want to be alone for a while."

"Alright. Don't be too long."

The eye roll was automatic. "Yes, Commander."

He laughed again and then disappeared back into the building, leaving her alone in the alleyway. Ugh, her head ached and her chest ached and she wanted to get out of there. Go somewhere else, feel something besides this impending dread that Havoc words had drudged up through the fragile film of happiness that had spread across her for the night.

She began thinking, as she leaned there against the wall with her head in her hands, that maybe he wasn't so far off. Maybe death was around the corner and none of them knew. With the Commander's big plan that he mentioned to her, she might not even come back alive. And it bothered her more than it should have. If she died, a few people might be sad, a few people might mourn her, but what kind of mark did she leave upon the world?

Nothing. She'd done nothing but kill murderers since she was twenty years old; that was the only job she'd ever had, the only thing to her name. So what was the point of her life? What was she doing with herself? There was nothing here in front of her, nothing to reach for. She was just Riza, a woman who knew how to use a gun better than she knew how to use her heart, and that was incredibly frustrating.

A groan pulled up from her throat as she lowered her hands from her face and stared at the ground. "What am I doing?" she said aloud.

"Looks to me like you're standing in a dark alleyway alone."

Her eyes sharpened as her head jerked up to look at the bulky figure of a man that was silhouetted against the street lantern. She cursed herself internally for being so careless; her thoughts had been too deep for her to have heard his approach and that was dangerous. That was how people died.

"So it would seem. I'm not particularly looking for any conversation, thank you," she said in a civil manner, hands twitching toward the revolver hiding just under the slit of her skirt.

The man sauntered toward her. "Relax, sweetheart, I'm not looking for any conversation either." His teeth glittered in the dark when he grinned at her.

She glared at him, unfazed by his advances. "You don't want to do that." Her hand slipped under the slit and touched the cool metal of the handle. She really didn't want to shoot anyone tonight but if he so much as laid a finger on her, she couldn't make any promises.

He leaned in toward her, placing an arm on one side of her head as she pressed against the wall. Her stomach churned sickeningly as his breath wafted under her nose, rank and wretched and tinged with alcohol. It was a good thing she hadn't eaten much since breakfast.

"Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it?" The gun was at his forehead in an instant, the cool cylinder pressing a red circle upon his skin. His hands immediately went up. "Hey, sweetheart, I'm not looking for a fight."

"No, but you are looking for something that I'm not willing to give," she snapped at him, tightening her hold on the gun. "You press the matter and I pull the trigger, you got it?"

He backed away, hands still in the air. "I got it, I got it."

The barrel trained on him, she began to step away. The air was tight, full of tension and she could see him calculating, reading her, waiting for an opening. She may not be trained in close combat, but she was damn good with a gun and he was a fool for thinking otherwise. So when he took a step toward her, she fired a round that grazed his ear and he howled in pain, immediately cupping the side of his face.

"Step away," she said in a completely calm voice, almost void of any warning at all. A statement.

"You bitch," he groaned, the blood slipping between his fingers.

She kept the gun pointed, finger poised. "Next time it'll be your forehead. Walk away, sir."

"You dumb bitch," he said a little louder, a little more angrily. Her finger tensed as his body looked like he was about to leap at her, but before anything else could happen, another figure loomed up behind him and brought the glinting end of a gun down against the man's head. He crumpled instantly and she moved the gun up to the second stranger in the alley.

"Is that the kind of thanks I get for saving your life?" A voice came from the darkness, smooth and dark, and almost as if he was amused. "You're going to point a loaded gun at me?"

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Thoughts are appreciated, but I just hope you guys all liked the chapter!