Draped in Wires
by. Poisoned Scarlett

Theme 061: Introvert

Riza Hawkeye nursed a cup of tea to her chest as she stood by the archway that led to her kitchen. Her nightgown flowed down her body like a sheet, the strap beginning to slide down her shoulder the longer she stood under the archway with that cup of tea in her hand.

Her sandy blonde locks of hair were mussed. She'd just had enough mind to smooth down the unruly blonde hair before she made herself this cup of tea, aware of the slight ache between her thighs. There was an unsettled fluttering in her stomach, as she took a drink and let it warm her chest. That unsettled fluttering became pacing, as she glanced down the hall that would lead to her bedroom furtively.

It was still early.

She had time to sort out her befuddled emotions, uncertainty.

What compelled her to do what she did? Just what was running through her mind, to take up his offer so easily? Riza stopped mid-pace and looked down into her cooling tea in conflict. She should have never taken his offer last night. But in a stroke of insanity she had and now he was back in her bedroom, laying on her bed, tangled up in her sheets, asleep. She certainly couldn't march right in there and kick the man out but it would have to come down to it soon enough.

She needed to prepare for work.

So did he.

Riza placed her cup of tea on the table and grabbed a handgun from her holster. She adjusted the strap of her nightgown on her shoulder and headed into her bedroom, her eyes landing on the man who slept soundly on her bed. His hair was mussed from her rough handling, fringes of black sticking up over his head and over his closed eyes. His nude body was pale from being kept in uniform all the time, his hands equally pale from being slipped into gloves whenever he was outside.

"Roy," Riza called, careful to keep her voice composed. "Wake up!"

Roy Mustang groaned and rolled on his back, slapping a hand over his eyes. "Riza?" He cleared his throat, propping himself up on his elbows. "What're you doing in my house so early?"

Riza glared. "You mean my house and it is time to wake up. You're expected in your office at seven sharp and simply because you...spent the night... at my apartment does not give you the right to arrive late! So, get changed and leave!"

"Your apartment...?" He trailed off, confused, but soon he took in his surroundings. Lavender sheets, currently wrapped around his waist. The faint scent of spring flowers, sunlight beginning to pour in through white curtains. Walls, painted a floral white. Floor, wood paneled with a large matching rug on which the bed was seated on comfortably. This was certainly not his apartment. Roy looked at Riza, her nightgown, the shadow of her body he could just barely see through the sheer material.

A grin broke out on his face. "Did we..?"

"Sir, get out."

"No, no! Wait! We did, didn't we?" Roy asked, hopefully. He didn't feel hung over, so why couldn't he remember what happened—oh, there it went. Memories, falling in a sequence nicely in his mind. Sweet, sweet memories. Riza had the loudest voice of any of the women he'd ever bedded, and felt the tightest of them all as well.

"Yes..." Riza breathed out slowly. She rose her gun, cocking it. "Now get out. I have to change and arrive at the office at seven. You will not delay me."

"You can change in front of me, Riza." Roy drawled, saucily. He sat up and threw the covers off of himself, smirking when Riza gasped and darted her eyes away from her superior. It made her gun falter. He committed getting naked in front of her to memory: it may save him from being shot one day. "I don't mind."

"Roy." Riza grit, tightening her grip on her gun. She rose determined eyes, not swayed by his sculpted body. "I will not tell you again: get out."

"C'mon, Riza." Roy chuckled, buckling his pants. He yawned again and flattened his hair, grabbing his shirt and slipping that on as well. "You can't pretend like this never happened. We weren't even drunk. You can't blame it on the drink."

"I'm not blaming it on anyone." Riza replied, crisply. "But I do wish you'd keep this to yourself. It wasn't supposed to happen, Roy." Riza sighed. "It's going against the Fraternization—!"

"Don't bring that idiotic policy up, Riza, I know damn well what it says." Roy waved off, much to her annoyance. He smiled then and she lowered her gun ever so slightly. He had a nice smile, whenever he wanted trying to charm someone into giving into his demands. "But you can't deny what happened last night."

Riza dropped her gun to her side, resigning with a halfhearted smile. "I know..."

"May I borrow your shower?"

"If you wish," Riza nodded, about to head out the door to give him privacy.

"...With you in it?"

Roy slammed the door to the bathroom shut a few seconds later, panting and wide-eyed as bullet shots echoed through her quaint apartment.

Roy made a note to self: take it slow with Riza Hawkeye, it may cost him a leg if he didn't.

A/N: Someone wanted me to dedicate a one-shot to Roy and Riza.

So I did :P

Scarlett.