A/N: Hey! Sorry for the long wait; I really hate that I got such a bad writer's block on this story, but I think I'm picking it back up again! I really appreciate all the nice messages and thoughts you leave after reading; I love to see what you have to say about each chapter!

Thanks for reading! I know this chapter is short, but I hope you like it. Let's hope I can do another one soon!

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :

Chapter 8

She sat behind the edge of the roof for a good ten minutes before she found the determination to move. Her fingers were stiff as if they were frozen through, her mind whirling as she resolutely explained to herself that this was the right choice. There would be no dwelling on the decision now; she'd made it and the only thing to do was move forward. As she quickly put her weapon away, Riza was already forming a plan in her mind, and it was coming together with a surprising amount of sense and clarity.

Grumman would not be happy about her refusal to kill Mustang, and that's sugar-coating it. Leaving the colonel alive would mean that Grumman could not leave the Eastern compound yet and, even better, that she would not be accompanying him to Central tomorrow. Her justification would have to be chosen wisely when she confronted him for she knew that his anger was potent and immediate these days and Riza Hawkeye was not clever at manipulating her words. One wrong move and there was no doubt that her commander would have a different sharp shooter out here within the hour. Not to mention the fact that he would absolutely accuse her of leaving the mission unfinished just so she wouldn't have to leave tomorrow. Her blatant objection to be the one to commit Roy Mustang's murder would then make her a joke amongst the people of the Resistance, known as a petty, obstinate girl perhaps too dangerous to handle.

But if she said the right things, she could convince him otherwise.

Either way, this was not going to be easy, but it was better than the alternative. Mustang had been an entirely new concept in her life and while not shooting him was ridiculously selfish in the grand scheme of the Resistance, it was a merciful action she had to take. He'd made her happy, for the first time in years. Additionally, she was no idiot, he had been so happy with her during those stolen moments they'd spent together, just as she'd been.

Grumman had sent her on the mission alone this time without a rendezvous for pickup and she knew that it was precautionary in minimizing the number of deaths that was in the realm of possibility to occur tonight. That, at least if she had to die, she'd be the only one of his pawns to do so.

She preferred the aloneness, reveled in it, as she drove her way slowly back to the compound. Mustang's face imprinted upon her mind, she could not stop seeing his expression the way it had appeared through the crosshairs of her scope. Sullen. Irritable. Everything she knew him not to be. Her reputation and the state of the rest of her life was being risked for the sake of sparing his life, but despite how much she did not know about it, she knew in the pit of her stomach that this was the right choice.

Roy Mustang was valuable, and that worth was nothing if he was dead. That's what she had to tell herself as the static on the radio crackled, as the wind tore at her bun, already falling around her shoulders in golden locks. The song that spit through the dash of the truck was a soft, jazzy tune, something that reminded Riza of the last time she went out with Rebecca and Havoc. The tension in her shoulders was as thick as a steel wire but the music softened the edges of her, allowed the hard line of her lips to mellow.

Once the compound was in sight, she pulled over to the side of the road and stared at the old warehouse, a place so many people in East City thought was abandoned. It was her home, however temporary it was, but it was not safe. The fading sunlight streaked through the clouds in the sky, sending beams of orange upon the grassy field of the front yard and she shivered.

This is so dangerous, she thought warily. However sure she was about leaving Mustang alive, her confidence was not something that could save her. I could be tried for treason. She decided then and there that if things went south, she would have to warn him before they could hurt him. Whatever that may cost her. She did not just walk away from being his murderer to have someone commit the deed themselves.

Once the truck was in its stall and the engine was off, Riza struggled to gather her strength after being frazzled by the revelation of Roy's career. She would need every bit of tenacity she could muster in order to fall into stride and convince the Commander that her decision was the best choice.

A deep breath in, and she popped the door open, her boots scuffling against the ground as she stepped out. Few of the mechanics who worked in the garage nodded at her as she made her way toward the door and she would have returned the gesture if she hadn't been so focused on the task at hand. After returning her weapon and the equipment to the front desk, she leaned toward Maria Ross, loosening the collar of the brown cloak she wore.

"Is the Commander in his office?" she asked, managing to keep her voice void of the heat and urgency she felt.

Maria looked at her quizzically before nodding. "Yeah, I think so. What's up, Hawkeye? You look rattled."

Riza could almost laugh to herself in disdain; years of mastering the shield of a mask and Mustang wiped that away in a matter of a few weeks. "Do I?" she tried to respond in a disinterested tone. "Thanks for your help."

Walking toward the set of stairs that would take her up to the office - once Armstrong's, now the Commanders - Riza found herself twisting one of the cuffs on her wrist in an uncharacteristically nervous way. She didn't want to be nervous because that would more likely than not hinder her thought process and she needed to be as clear and absolute as possible in order to sway this in her favor.

The door was before her and she refused to hesitant. Without knocking, she turned the knob and barged in.

The Commander sat in the chair, the only one in the office, his head bent back over the chair lazily. Anger immediately reared in Riza unexplainably at his casualness, and she felt satisfied when he looked at her in alarm despite the bags of purple under his eyes.

"You're back early," he commented after a moment of silence. He straightened and leaned forward, reaching for his glasses folded at the center of the desk.

"I didn't kill him," she said curtly. Perhaps she should have been more strategic in revealing the truth, but Riza felt that holding it back to evade around the point would only serve to make her anxious and give him time to expect it. She didn't want that. Speaking so bluntly was like dropping a bomb, and she stood her ground as his mouth dropped open, and waited for the oncoming explosion.

Fury darkened his expression as soon as he collected himself, but she wasn't afraid. The force of his blast would have knocked anyone else off their feet.

"You didn't kill him." His voice was cold, void of anything but ice and anger and she wondered, just briefly, how much trouble her defiance put him in. How many days does this set him back? How ruined now is his carefully constructed plan? If she hadn't been so mad herself, she would have smiled.

"That's what I said, isn't it, sir?" She was patronizing him. Definitely not the smartest thing to say, but her tongue quipped the words on its own accord.

He stood abruptly, both hands placed on the desk, absolutely livid. "Don't you dare ignore my authority, Riza Hawkeye. Why the hell did you not kill the colonel?"

Without an ounce of hesitation, she took the remaining steps toward his desk and met his furious gaze with her own. "You are wrong to kill him," she explained with cool calculation. "He's valuable. You shouldn't throw it away."

He looked at a loss for words, his face growing purple. "Do you understand what that man has done to our country? His kill count is hovering around ten thousand people. Ten thousand of our own people! And you just let him walk free? Good god, Riza, what is wrong with you?!"

"Killing him won't erase what he's done in the past," she spat back at him. She pressed her trembling hands against her legs to keep him from noticing how she shook. "It won't bring all the people he killed back to life magically. I'm not a robot, Grandfather, I have morals and expectations of myself and I don't listen to your every whim because it's what you want. I do what I think is best for Amestris. It is the same now, me walking away from this mission, the same as taking out hundreds of military officials before this."

He stared at her for a minute before he exploded again in such suddenness that she jumped backwards. His arm swept out as he shoved stacks of files and office supplies off the desk and onto the carpet. "Goddamn you, Riza!"

"Stop being a child!" she yelled at him, her anger beginning to boil over.

His glasses were slightly askew on his face. "Me?! I'm the child here?! You, abandoning your duty because it's not what you want to do and you're saying that?"

"It's not about what I want! It's about what's best for the people!"

"Killing the colonel is what's best for the people!"

"No, Grandfather, its what's best for you!"

There was a stillness between them for a moment before his eyes narrowed. "How do you know him?"

She could not stop the surprise from flitting across her face. "What?"

"You know this colonel. How do you know him?"

"I don't," she lied acidly, her teeth gritting. How could he have figured it out? Her reasoning was completely valid, so why wouldn't he believe that? Why did he suddenly suspect something else?

"He's valuable?" He raised a bushy eyebrow. "Hardly the words of a soldier, Granddaughter."

Her fists clenched and her mind raced at lightning speed, searching desperately for a diversion. "He's a colonel. Of course he's valuable. If we don't use him as a hostage, then certainly we can - "

"What? Torture information out of him? I thought you were more humane than that."

"I am!" Damn him for putting words in her mouth. Damn him for frustrating and flustering her. Damn him! "That's not what I was going to say, I -"

"Then what is it, Riza? What is it about him that you want to save so desperately?"

She simply glared and she hated that the edges of his mouth curled slightly as he fixed his glasses, the light flashing across the lenses.

He began to laugh. "You have feelings for him, don't you?"

"No," she said absolutely.

It was as if she hadn't spoken. "Suppose I don't send a replacement sniper out to correct your failure. Do you know how much this sets us back now? We will have to retreat our front lines. Thousands of dollars down the drain. Lives lost meaninglessly. All because you fancy that murderer."

She wished she had a gun. She would have shot him right then. "We are murderers too."

He shook his head. "I could have you tried for treason. You are lucky that you are my blood and that the future of the Resistance rests on you." A laugh gurgled in his throat as he dropped his chin, continuing to shake his head. "What do you propose we do then? You think there's reason to believe he'd cooperate if we brought him here?"

Her lips pursed and she felt her shoulders go loose with relief. There was no guarantee but it was the only way to save his life. "Yes, sir."

He gave her a hard look and then nodded. "Alright. You design a mission to kidnap him and we will take him as a hostage. I don't know what you are thinking but. . ." his eyes softened, just the slightest bit, "you've never let me down before. I want Mustang here before the end of this week. If you fail, he dies and I can't guarantee your safety either, understand?"

She nodded in reply, sharply. "Yes, sir." Supressing the thrill of joy was tough. "What about our move to Central?"

"I'll return tomorrow to straighten up the things that need my attention and then I'll be back to see what you plan on doing with this colonel." He sighed and returned to sitting in his desk chair. "You are going to be the death of me, child."

"I highly doubt that, sir," she replied stiffly.

He chuckled and rubbed his forehead. "Is that so? Go on. Get out of here. I'm still angry so I don't want to see you before I return, is that clear?"

"Crystal," she said shortly, spinning on her heel and making a beeline for the door. She paused in the entryway and looked back over her shoulder. The relief settled in her stomach like a blanket, warm and precious. She walked in here expecting a much harder-fought battle, but it seemed that the old man had softened a bit in his aging. "Goodbye, Commander."

He inclined his head toward her and she ducked out, turning the corner to retreat back to her room.

Of course, leaning there against the wall with wide eyes and a cigarette butt clamped tightly between pursed lips stood Havoc. He looked absolutely incredulous and just as he started to open his mouth, she yanked on his arm and pulled him down the stair case at the end of the hall before he could speak.

"Hawkeye," he sputtered as they turned on the landing to go down the second flight.

"How much did you hear?" she asked quietly, not caring to look at him.

"Just the end of it. You really didn't go through with the mission?"

She shook her head. "I. . .it felt wrong. I couldn't bear to. . ." Her voice trailed off and she realized how foolish she sounded. What, couldn't bear to pull the trigger? How hypocritical. "I know it probably wasn't the smartest idea, but Havoc, I - "

"No," he cut her off, shaking his head as she began to drag him down her hall to her room. "No, I'm glad you didn't." She looked over her shoulder at him in surprise as she unlocked her room with her key. He smiled slightly, though he still looked astonished. "It didn't feel right, having you out there in the field to kill that guy. I felt it too."

She nodded. "Then we understand each other."

He smirked, returning to his old self. "I'd say so."

Rolling her eyes, she kicked the door open and pulled him inside. A sudden shriek of surprise captured both of their attention and they snapped their heads to the simple vanity to see Rebecca standing there in her underwear, her curly hair shaped into a bun on the top of her head. An incredibly pink blush colored her cheeks as Havoc turned his head away, looking embarrassed himself.

"Riza! You should have knocked!" Rebecca insisted as she reached for her robe and pulled it over.

"Okay, one, this is my room too. I don't have to knock. And, two, since when did you become so modest?"

Her blush deepened.

"I can step outside for a second, uh, if you want me to," Havoc said in a strange voice.

"It's fine," Rebecca squeaked. "I'll just. . .uh, change in the bathroom." She turned to Riza. "You look like you have something important to tell me, so I'll be quick."

Riza made a motion with her hands to hurry it up and she plopped down next to Havoc and Rebecca shut the door to the bathroom.

"Are you blushing?" she asked him, feeling amused.

"No," he replied obstinately, but when he turned to face her, there was the lightest dusting of pink on his face.

She shook her head at the sheer idiocy of her friends. "It's not like you haven't seen a naked woman before."

"Yeah, but I haven't seen that woman naked."

Riza raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

The door to the bathroom flew open and Rebecca strutted back in, her hair now bouncing around her shoulders, loose and curly. "So, how'd the mission go, Riza? You look. . ."

"What?" Riza asked defensively.

"Nothing!" her friend exclaimed, holding her hands up in front of her. "I was just gonna say you don't look all doomy and gloomy like you normally do. Don't get so sassy!"

"I'm not sassy."

"In your own way, you are extremely sassy."

"The sassiest," Havoc added.

"No one asked you," Riza said sharply. She sighed and looked Rebecca straight in the eye. "I didn't kill the colonel. I. . .couldn't."

Rebecca wore the same face of shock Havoc had on when Riza left the office. "What?" She turned to Havoc. "Did you know about this?"

He looked sheepish. "I accidentally eavesdropped."

A smile split across her face and she ran toward Riza. "Thank god! I mean, I was so worried for you; when Havoc and I got back to base Grumman was being that same smug bastard as always and I was so upset!" she cried as she hugged her friend. "I thought for sure you'd get caught. What changed your mind? Were you too scared?"

Riza looked down at her lap. She wouldn't admit it to Grumman, but she could tell her two most trusted friends, couldn't she? "No, that's not it. I. . .well, I knew him."

Both of their eyes got wide as saucers. "You knew the colonel you were sent to kill?" Havoc asked.

At the same time, Rebecca was saying, "What the hell, how did you become friends with a colonel in the military and not kill him before?"

"Shhh," Riza hissed, " not so loud."

"Explain," Havoc insisted.

So she did.

::::

"Holy shit, Riza. Holy shit."

"I know."

"I mean. . .holy shit."

Riza sighed; Rebecca had never been the most eloquent woman she knew.

"So what now?" Havoc asked, ever looking ahead. He'd long since tossed his dead cigarette in a trash can and now the three of them lay on Riza's bed in a variety of positions. They looked more like middle schoolers at a sleepover than they did a couple of twenty-something year old assassins. "You've gotta get this guy out of the military, right?"

"Yes," Riza said as she stared at the old ceiling fan. "I don't think it'll be too hard, since he knows who I am. Luring him out will be easy. It shouldn't take more than the three of us for this, if you are willing to help me."

Rebecca snorted. "Of course we're willing to help you."

"Do you have a plan yet?" Havoc asked. He sounded strangely subdued for his usual character, but Riza guessed that it was probably because he was trying to read into her explanation of who Roy was and why she didn't kill him. Havoc was always doing that; trying to analyze and understand her. His concern could melt her heart if she wasn't so bothered by it.

She didn't have feelings for Mustang beyond that of a friend.

Honestly.

Truly.

But she thought Havoc was concluding otherwise.

"A vague outline. I'm thinking we'll do it in two days. That gives us ample time to supply ourselves and perfect our schedule." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"You sound definite," he noted quietly.

She swallowed and fought a sudden surge of emotion. "I have never been more sure about something."

Rebecca sat up and looked down at them, Riza in the middle and Havoc on the other side. "Okay so what? Two days from now we just show up and you charm the snake down to some sort of ambush spot? How the hell are we going to get a highly ranking military officer out of there without raising any suspicion?"

Riza laughed a little, which caused Havoc and Rebecca to share a glance. When was the last time they'd heard her do that? "You're thinking about this too hard, Rebecca. Look, we'll go in after his office hours are over, say. . .five o'clock. I'll walk around the corner when we spot him leaving the building and he'll just think it's a coincidence, but I'll get him out of the secure area and then we should be in the clear."

Rebecca eyed her. "Just how well do you know this guy?"

Averting her eyes back to the fan, Riza repressed a smile. This had worked out so much better than she could have prayed for. "Hardly at all."