Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.

AN: Hello everyone! I apologize for another long gap! I said I would try to shorten the wait, but that definitely did not work this time. Life took me away again, and this chapter gave me a bit of a hard time as well. Still, I'll keep trying, and thank you all for your patience. You are amazing! (Also, responses to guest reviews for the last chapter can be found at the end of this post.)

One of my lovely readers suggested that a list of characters with their corresponding codenames would be helpful at the beginning of a chapter, and I am happy to do it :) I have been working on this story for so long that the codenames are almost second nature for me now, so I apologize if there has been any confusion! And thank you to the reader that pointed it out. I appreciate it!

Character/codename: Riza/Loki...Roy/Tyr/Mr. Sexy Voice...Becca/Freya...Havoc/Dagr...Breda/Ymir...Ross/Hel...Fuery/Sig...Elicia/Little One...Olivier/Ice Queen (I stuck with the characters that are still alive, but I am pretty tired at the moment. If I missed someone, please let me know!)

On to chapter 17! I hope you enjoy it! :)

The Midnight Sting

It was shortly after midnight two days later that Riza strolled along the north-eastern wing of the darkened Museum für Naturkunde in Berlin, Germany, vigilantly eying the black silhouettes of the buildings around her. The early morning was cool, a light drizzle dampening her hair, and the area was largely devoid of vehicles and passerby, the only sounds being the occasional car driving down the Invalidenstrasse that ran in front of the museum.

Overall it was peaceful and, though she knew the rest of the team was hiding somewhere nearby, she felt alone. She let that sensation of solitude take over as she walked, her body and mind in need of even the most fleeting moment to recharge, having had so little time to herself since the mission began. Part of her was angry, of course, that they had not discovered the breach sooner, and irate when she thought about all the death that resulted from that oversight. And that ire was not only directed at the mole but also at herself, because she should have noticed. Perhaps she had let herself become distracted.

Still, she smiled as she drew in a breath, setting those thoughts aside and shooting an appreciative glance skyward, optimistic for the first time since they had discovered the double agent in their midst. The night's mission at the museum would give them the chance to finally get ahead of Kimblee, and she would ensure they took full advantage of that opportunity. They could not afford to underestimate him in any way, but she was weary of being a step behind and, one way or another, this covert war with the arms dealer would end.

Checking her phone, she quickened her pace upon seeing one message from Olivier: ETA fifteen minutes. Becca abruptly materialized at the end of a driveway ahead to her right, breaking into a brief jog to meet her. "You could have told me before, ya know."

"I'm sorry, Bec, but you know why I didn't tell you before."

"Yeah, I know...but you still could've trusted me."

"I do trust you. That's why I told you today." Riza came to a stop and placed a hand on her friend's arm. "I would have filled you in earlier, but you and Havoc have gotten close, and I didn't want to say anything until we knew something concrete."

"So, you thought I was compromised," Becca replied, moving forward again.

"No, of course not. I know you better than that...you'll do whatever needs done, no matter what." She paused. "Your feelings for him...that's the explanation I gave Mustang, Fuery, and Liv for keeping you in the dark. Honestly?...I can see that you're happy, and I didn't want to ruin it unnecessarily."

"Thanks for lookin' out." Her friend was silent for a second. "But if you do it again I'll hurt you. You know how much I like a good mole hunt."

"I'll keep that in mind," she chuckled, pulling an earpiece from her pocket. "We should get on comms...if we're not on soon it might look suspicious."

"Good point…but I was wondering. If the mole's been with us all this time, why hasn't Kimblee tried to kill us again?"

"Believe me, I've been asking myself that same question." She activated the device and fit it into her ear, checking the surrounding area once more for passerby.

At the same time, Breda was in the process of saying, "...already knocked out a guard back here."

"Way to keep it low-profile, Ymir," Havoc sarcastically responded from his hiding place near an apartment building in close proximity to the museum. "Why don't we call and warn them that we're coming. It'd be easier than knocking them all out."

"Geeze, Dagr, someone's touchy. What crawled up your ass?"

"Freya and I are almost there," Riza announced, breaking up the squabbling before it could gain momentum. The museum loomed to her left, three imposing stories of gray stone, archways, and decorative columns, and they took a few more rapid steps to reach an entrance they had determined to be most easily accessible and least visible.

"Look who decided to join the party," Fuery teased. "Remember, once you pop the door you have ten seconds to get everyone inside."

"There were pedestrians near the front...I didn't think they should see me talking to myself." She knelt next to the door, pulling out her lock picks while Becca connected the otter to the keypad. "Copy to the ten seconds. All agents start your approach."

"I wasn't gonna say anything," the brunette quietly commented. "But this is weird. Maybe not Barry-crazy, but it's up there."

"I know." She took another look around. "After the last mission we don't have much choice. We need intel."

Her friend made a soft, irritated sound. "Don't remind me. It feels like we're right back at square one. The target's in the wind, you couldn't access the safe..." Becca winked and Riza responded with an exaggerated thumbs up as a confirmation that the grifter was player her role well.

"Yeah, and I have to go to a museum," Havoc added. "What's with that?"

She smiled when the picks settled into the right grooves, giving a little nod to indicate she was ready. "The Sphinx just happens to be very paranoid...she won't deal with anyone in person."

"She also apparently has a penchant for leaving intel in strange places," Mustang commented in amusement. "And making us jump through hoops to get it."

"Okay, we've got the code," Becca informed her.

"I've looped the cameras and temporarily disabled motion sensors, so once you're inside you're good," Fuery threw in.

The brunette watched for their friends, entered the code when she saw them, and Riza immediately turned the lock to pull back the deadbolt, pushing the door open so the others could pass through. Once they were all inside the door was swiftly secured behind them to keep the alarm from sounding. The team fanned out, moving to their appointed posts to keep watch for guards and anyone else that might throw a wrench into their efforts.

"We've got the west wing," Havoc said as he walked away with a wave.

"Hey, the West Wing...I liked that show." Ross turned to leave with him. "Has anyone else noticed that Rob Lowe doesn't age?"

"Yeah, he's kinda like Enrique Iglesias in that respect. That guy looks exactly like he did twenty years ago. It's scary." Breda suddenly searched through one of his pockets. "I only have three syringes. What if I come across more than three guards?"

"You'll have to try out more of your German," Becca joked.

"Shut. Up."

"Loki." Mustang spoke quietly from her left, distracting her from the team's chatter.

Her lips formed a smirk when she saw him, and she reached out to take the key card he held between two fingers. "Thanks."

"No problem." He returned her smile. "We'll clear this area and take the east wing."

"Copy that, Tyr." She eyed her watch to verify their timetable and left with Becca, passing through the various paleontological displays and into a glassed-in courtyard that happened to house the largest mounted dinosaur in the world. Striding swiftly across it and into the mineral room they took the cast-iron spiral staircase that stood in one corner up to the next floor.

"This is a lot of trouble for a little information," Havoc commented. "I'm just saying."

"What is your problem with this museum?" Mustang asked with a chuckle. "It's just a building."

"Yeah, just a building filled with creepy, real stuffed animals. Their sad, glassy eyes judging me wherever I go."

Breda snorted loudly, trying to stop himself from laughing. "The dinosaur wing is clear." He paused. "You are messed up, dude."

"Just ignore the animals and keep your eyes peeled." There was still mirth in Mustang's voice. "We can't be sure of the target's whereabouts, and we don't want any surprises. Change the subject if you have to."

"Oh, you want me to change the topic? Take my mind off all the death? Happy to." A brief silence, and then, "Hey, Freya, who's Colin?" It was approximately the twentieth time Havoc had asked the question since they left the safe-house, ever since he'd discovered that the aforementioned man was a chapter in Becca's romantic history.

"Oh my god." Ross' exasperation was clear, and her exclamation was followed by a noise that sounded strangely like she'd punched him in the gut. "So she has a past...Get over it."

Riza caught the brunette's eye roll as they moved quickly along a second floor hallway toward additional stairs, and was about to speak when Mustang beat her to it. "Maybe you should focus on the mission, Dagr. And we cleared the insect displays...making another circuit. Not many guards on duty tonight."

"I have to agree with Mr. Sexy Voice on this one," she added. "This isn't the time."

"Ooh," Becca grinned enthusiastically as they started up another flight to reach the third floor. "Are we bringing that codename back? It's my favorite."

"They called you Mr. Sexy Voice?" Elicia suddenly asked, tone incredulous. "Eww."

"Little One...what have we said about you and ongoing missions?" Mustang said.

"Radio silence, right. Got it."

"Just a minute," Havoc added and then his voice lowered, as if that would make the conversation more private. "Freya, I know you have this crazy history, and I'm fine not knowing everything. But something would be nice."

"Okay." Frustration tinged the Becca's tone. On the landing they perused the hall for activity before stepping out into the space reserved for zoological research. They moved toward the western-most portion of the building, reading wall-plaques along the way. "We met him on the trail of the Italian with all the paintings and the drugs. He was MI6, made an excellent osso bucco, and didn't even know my real name. I was Francesca to him."

"Oh, great...you only dated James-freaking-Bond. No big deal."

She chuckled. "He wasn't..."

"Pause your shit," Mustang interrupted more forcefully. "You can figure it out later."

"Fine. The place with all the stupid shiny rocks is clear," Havoc told them. "Also known as the mineral room."

Finally coming upon the area used for study on invertebrate animals, Riza swiped the keycard on the reader. "We're in." The room was full of floor to ceiling cases in rows that housed the department's specimens not on display in the museum proper. They split up, each taking a different aisle, and she said, "It's under arachnida...ataneae...theraphosidae."

"Ugh, Arachnida...I'm gonna go ahead and say that's probably something gross."

"You know, bears are really big." Breda was evidently back in the section of the museum with mammal displays.

"No shit, Ymir. It's a frickin' bear." Mustang's tone conveyed entertainment with a hint of annoyance, as though he were surrounded by crazy people.

"Well excuse me, but I've never seen one in person."

"You've never been to a zoo?" Mustang paused and then, "How old are you?"

"We gave another guard the sleeping juice." Havoc's voice broke into the discussion. "Hid him in the bathroom. And you're more fucked up than I thought, Ymir."

Riza continued to skim the names of specimens as she listened, until Becca said, "Hey, I found the family. What's the name?"

"Lasiodora parahybana."

"Holy shit. I was right. It's gross."

Riza moved around the end of one of the rows to reach the next aisle and found her friend trying to stand as far from the specimen as possible without actually running away. Crouching next to the open drawer, her hair instantly stood on end and she jumped to her feet, shaking her head. "Oh, hell no."

"What happened?" Mustang asked with concern. "Is it not there?"

"Oh, it's here. It's..." She took a slow breath, clenching her stomach. "It's just under a damn tarantula...that has fur."

"It's your turn." Becca punctuated her declaration by pointing a slightly shaky finger.

"Oh, no. No way...it's your turn. I did the thing with the snakes last year, in Shanghai, remember?"

"That was hardly a thing, you didn't even..."

"Yes, I did, and there were a lot of them, so..."

"Hold up, we have company," Havoc abruptly spoke. "Hel, see if you can get a look out back."

"Copy."

Riza met the brunette's gaze. "What can you see, Sig?"

"I have police out front...I'm searching for cameras around the building."

"Copy." She exhaled in resignation. "Fine, Freya, give them a distraction."

The other woman's smile grew in relief and she raced from the room as Breda told them, "We have eyes on them around the east side of the building, too."

"Distractions are Freya's specialty...she'll figure something out." She took a couple steps, shifting agitatedly and muttering to herself as a reminder: "It's dead, it's dead, it's dead." For some reason, the fact that it was no longer alive and could not actually crawl all over her did not help.

"This had to be a set up. The timing is too perfect." There was anger in Mustang's voice, and she had the thought that he was also playing his part well, reacting as though they were on a normal mission. "How long have you worked with the Sphinx?"

She shook her head, once more crouching next to the giant arachnid, her skin crawling with that bone-chilling sensation of insects all over her. "This wasn't the Sphinx. Did we overlook a silent alarm, Sig?"

"Not that I know of."

She looked up briefly when more sirens could be heard and then set her jaw, her face screwed up as she used the longest lock picking tool to push the small drive from beneath the spider. "Okay, I got it."

"Copy," Mustang replied. "All the exits are covered, we're surrounded. We need to find an alternative."

"Copy that...on my way." Riza shook out her tense body, and was just about to secure the specimens when she heard soft footsteps nearing her position.

She tried to reach for her pistol and then a muted voice said, "Hands up and don't say a word. Get rid of the earpiece and draw your weapon slowly, with your thumb and forefinger." Taking the firearm from its holster, she gradually lowered it to the ground and pushed it behind her with a foot.

She then pushed the drawer closed and rose slowly, removing her comm and pressing the button to disconnect it as she turned around. "If you're going to point a gun at me, Ross, you'd better be ready to use it." The muzzle was trained on her face, but the distance between them was too great for her to make a move.

"What exactly did this contact give you, I wonder?" Ignoring her comment, Ross glanced at the drive and added, "There's a bookcase a few feet behind you. Set the intel on the shelf, and then keep walking backward." Riza did as requested and Maria slipped it in a pocket with a knowing smile before gesturing for her to move in the direction of the hallway. "I knew we couldn't trust you. The cops happen to show up right as you're going for the intel? You either called the police, or those are Kimblee's men out there. Either way, you fucked us over."

"You think I'm a double? Why would I save your lives, only to screw you over later?"

The other woman gestured along the aisle in the direction of the door and they began to pace in that direction. "Saving our lives would certainly earn our trust, wouldn't it? Head toward the stairs."

As ordered, Riza continued down the hall toward the door she had used to reach that floor only minutes earlier. Ross was smart, keeping an adequate distance between them, always just far enough out of reach that she could not make a play for the weapon. She walked slowly down the hallway and, as they were nearing the stairwell, Havoc and Becca stepped through it, firearms already raised. Not a moment later, Mustang and Breda approached from behind, essentially boxing them in, and Riza turned carefully, hands still in the air to make sure no one fired.

"Ross?" Havoc's brow furrowed, his eyes moving from Maria to the gun in her hand, to the woman at whom it was pointed. "What the hell is going on?"

"We heard Hawkeye's comm disconnect, but...Ross?" Breda's voice was full of confusion.

The woman reached into a pocket, holding up a drive, but it was not the one from the drawer of tarantulas. "I told you we couldn't trust her. Check the intel...I bet it's useless. She has been communicating with them from the beginning, it's the only way he could have beaten us so many times."

"I'm not sure what you think you know, Ross, but you're wrong. I'm helping you."

"Come on. You expect me to believe you'd do this because you're just such a good person?" Ross shook her head. "No, I'm betting he paid you off. You're in the perfect position to sell us out."

She could not stop her chuckle completely. "Trust me, I don't need money."

"I've seen you on those private phone calls..."

"Yes, with contacts I'm using to help you."

Mustang took a step forward, leveling his pistol at Ross' head. "We know it was you, Maria."

Breda's jaw fell open in shock. "Boss? What are you doing?"

"Can't you see she's manipulating you?" The woman said angrily, her eyes starting to move a bit more frantically. "I saw you two the other night...after the exchange. She's good, I'll give her that." Riza fought the urge to find Mustang's gaze, and instead she continued watching, amazed that Ross was trying to both hijack the intel (which was fake) and throw any potential suspicion on someone else. She had to respect the gutsy tactic.

"Seriously...what the fuck is happening?" Havoc asked, voice taking on a note of urgency.

"That has nothing to do with this," Mustang quietly replied. "New Orleans, Hughes, Virginia, the exchange, the meet...it all went sideways, and it was all thanks to you. And then two days ago, you tried to have Hughes killed again."

"Wow." Maria looked at her, gesturing toward Riza with the weapon. "You're even better than I thought."

Riza smiled, dropping her arms to rest them but still holding them at a safe distance from her body. "I appreciate your commitment to the role, Ross, but you can stop the act. We ran a simplified barium meal test on the same day as the meeting with Kimblee. You failed."

"The team supposedly escorting Hughes was attacked en route to location charlie." Mustang paused. "Breda was given location alpha, Havoc was beta, and you were charlie. You've been working with Kimblee."

"Wait." Havoc's weapon lowered and he faced Mustang, wide eyed. "You thought I was a mole?"

"Havoc...later." Riza gave him a pointed look.

Ross watched them, and then her expression morphed into one more self-assured and haughty than normal. "It's cute that you think you've accomplished something, and really pathetic that it took you so fucking long."

"Why?" Mustang asked. "What could you possibly gain from helping him?"

The woman gave a loud, condescending laugh. "Fuck you, boss. This is not the part where we have a heartfelt discussion of my motives." She paused, listening to the sound of boots on the stairs growing louder, before focusing her attention on Riza. "Your team's cover is blown. You're welcome." Ross' smug smile grew. "That felt really good."

Her hand twitched, as though it wanted to form a fist, but she only smirked, trying to disregard the mind games. She reached for the pistol in a flash of movement, raising it toward the ceiling as it went off and then removing the slide. She grabbed the weapon from the woman's hand and threw an elbow into the side of her face, knocking her backward. Replacing the slide, she put a round in the chamber and raised the firearm as the barrage of footfalls came ever closer, the team watching with surprised eyes.

Her initial intention had been to disarm her, but then every tragedy over the last few weeks surged through her mind. Only now, she was in a position to do something. Riza exhaled and, while anger pulsed in her chest, the people and sounds around them fell away. Her index finger curled comfortably around the trigger and her pulse slowed as she automatically slipped into an oft-practiced calm, aiming for the point between the woman's eyes. Maria simply held her gaze, expression unchanging.

"Hawkeye." Mustang spoke softly, lowering his own pistol but keeping it in front of him.

Her rational side knew that they needed the information Ross could give them, that killing her now would achieve nothing. Meanwhile, the other side, the one that kept seeing Gracia lying bloodied on the floor, repeatedly watched Falman's head jerk to the side from the force of a bullet, and remembered her hands drenched in her own grandfather's blood, didn't care. Because of that woman Elicia lost her mother, Falman's twin sons would grow up without a father, and the General was dead. Her index finger squeezed a fraction.

Next to her, Mustang holstered his firearm and stepped in her direction. "Riza." He cautiously reached for her hand, flicking on the safety, and his use of her first name drew her gaze to him. She watched him for several seconds, glanced back at Ross, and then handed him the weapon. The instant she did, agents burst into the hallway and swarmed around the prisoner.

Riza sipped mediocre coffee as she stood in a CIA black site just outside Berlin and watched Ross from the other side of a two-way mirror. The woman's posture was relaxed, arms crossed defiantly over her chest, and her gaze was disdainful, a far cry from the moderately sardonic woman she'd pretended to be. She sat in an interrogation room of average size, black walls bearing down on her, but she seemed surprisingly unconcerned. That would not last long.

She shot a look behind her as the door to the observation room opened and Mustang stepped through it, coming to stand next to her and following her gaze through the glass. Nudging her lightly with his shoulder, he asked, "Are you okay?"

She started to nod and then shrugged. "I don't know what got into me back at the museum. I just couldn't get Gracia, Falman, and the General out of my head. I feel like I lost control."

"Hey, nothing happened." He took her free hand and she raised her eyes. "It was a moment, that's all."

"One you stopped." She hesitated. "I could have killed her." Admittedly, it bothered her that someone else had needed to intervene at all.

"You didn't." He paused, seemingly to gather his thoughts. "You were angry, which is completely understandable. This is personal for all of us...And you're only human."

Her lips quirked at that comment. "You make a valid point." Riza sipped her coffee, lowering her voice. "You used my first name."

He let out a chuckle. "Yeah, I know I broke our unofficial protocol...but I wanted to distract you."

"Well, it worked, so thank you." Her head whipped around when the door opened again, slipping her fingers out of his, and Liv leaned against the door frame. Taking the file from the table, Riza held it out to her friend and said, "Was the huge spider really necessary?"

The other blonde took the documents with a pleased smile. "No, but it was fun for me." Olivier left, reappearing an instant later in the interrogation room and tossing the thick file onto the tabletop. She sat and drank her own coffee, watching the prisoner across the table.

Evidently impatient, Maria said, "Aren't you going to offer me something? Water, or a beer maybe? I assume you're here to soften me up before the real interrogator takes over." Riza was still unaccustomed to the woman's cocky manner since the Ross they knew, while confident, had never displayed such arrogance.

Olivier gave a laugh. "No, actually, I'm the real interrogator. You don't get my job without the ability to make people talk when they'd rather not."

"This is actually pointless. I'll never tell you where he is. He'll disappear, and eventually you'll get a nice bullet to the skull." Ross shrugged. "It's that simple."

"Oh, I already know where he is. You're going to tell me everything you know about the location." She smirked. "It's that simple."

"There's no way you could know that." Her voice was firm, but her brow showed doubt.

Olivier nodded. "It's a good story, actually. That time during your last mission, when Hawkeye supposedly didn't get into the safe...that was all bullshit. She not only got into the vault and rigged it so that only Fuery could control when it opens, she also infiltrated his apartment and planted an absurd number of trackers." She paused. "So I know exactly where that fucker is."

Maria shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I'm not talking."

"I can understand that position. Kimblee's a violent guy, and no matter where I put you he could probably kill you. But I have a hunch that's not your greatest fear." The blonde flipped open the file, sifting through various sheets of paper and photos. "For instance, maybe you're worried about your real family in Poland..." Ross' eyes widened a fraction. "...or your younger brother enrolled in a university in England. My money, though, is on your daughter that lives in Montreal. And you can be sure that if we know about her, Kimblee does as well."

Ross stared at her, gaze boring into the other woman. "You don't know anything."

"Oh, don't I? Eva Makara, age seven...records indicate she was born in Montreal but Poznań, Poland, is her real birthplace. She lives with a woman named Mirta who, according to documentation, is her aunt but is in reality a hired caretaker. The address is 695 Sum..."

"Okay, I get it, you win. But if she is hurt in any way..."

"Save your threats, she's perfectly safe." Olivier removed another document from the file and slid it across the table. "The caretaker, Mirta, was on Kimblee's payroll. Hawkeye found all this out when she entered his vault...she called right away to have a team sent to find your daughter and take the woman into custody."

The woman's focus moved to the two-way mirror, where she knew Riza would be. When she next spoke, all derision had left her tone and her voice changed, taking on a slight Polish accent. "I'll tell you what you want you know, but I have a couple requests."

"My compliance will depend on the nature of those requests, and the veracity of what you tell us."

"I understand. I can ensure Eva is provided for, but I want her brought to the states, to a location of my choosing. Since I doubt you'll allow me to hire a new bodyguard for her, I want Mustang to select a new guardian." Riza looked over at the man in question, catching his expression of astonishment, a sentiment she shared.

"That's all? As long as Agent Mustang consents, those conditions are acceptable to me." The Director half-turned toward the mirror. "Mustang?"

He was silent and then tapped a button on the board controlling the recording equipment. "I'll do it."

"Very well." Olivier shuffled a few papers around and picked up her coffee before continuing. "Can you please state your full, correct name for the record?"

"Maria Kasenka Lisiewska."

"We will have you give a full statement, of course, but I do have a few questions at this time. What is your connection to the man known as Solf J. Kimblee?"

"He's my half-brother...my mother had an affair with Kimblee, Sr. My father, the man that raised me, was Yury Lisiewska, and when he died we were destitute. When I was seventeen I went into the Kimblee family business in order to support them and I've been working with Solf ever since."

"And your position on Mustang's team? How did that come about?"

"Solf had been aware for some time that Agent Hughes with Interpol was building a case against him. In order to keep an eye on him, he bought an Interpol agent that works in the same office and I was sent to infiltrate Mustang's team. It allowed me to easily keep tabs on Agent Hughes and his family."

"And, if necessary, you could have used his family and close friend against him. Like when you arranged the contract on the Hughes family."

"Correct." When Ross responded Mustang stiffened, his jaw clenching at her admission that she had been involved in the hit and at the idea that they had intended to use him as a pawn.

"When the attack on the safe-house was not completely successful, why was no other hit attempted at another location?" Riza's curiosity was piqued with that question, as she'd frequently wondered the same.

Maria took a breath, head tilted as she considered her response. "Solf's most frequent impulse when presented with a problem is to have the guilty party killed. After our first attempts failed, I suggested that my place on the combined FBI-CIA team could be a useful source of information."

"And was it?"

"Yes and no. Hawkeye and her team are quite good at keeping everything from your end need-to-know, but I did observe a great deal of their operation and..." They would need to know the extent to which her cover had been undermined, and whether or not Becca and Fuery were in any danger. She had taken Ross' earlier comment as little more than a last ditch effort to screw with her, but it was possible that their real identities had been widely circulated. Pulling out her phone, she sent a quick message to Barry asking him to make inquiries.

Hearing a sudden knock on the door to the observation room, Riza turned to look and an agent gave her a nod. Briefly placing a hand on Mustang's arm to get his attention she said, "Fuery and Elicia are here," and then led the way into the hall beyond.

She navigated the maze of passages to the suite of rooms they had adapted for their use for the night. They had agreed it would be best to stay at the black site for the night, given the fact that the location of their Berlin safe-house was almost certainly compromised. Fortunately, their stay would only last one evening since they would be leaving the city the very next morning, the next stop being a CIA safe-house closer to the compound in which Kimblee had taken refuge after the recent apartment debacle. The entire team was in need of rest, as well as some down time, a break from being on constant high alert.

As they neared the rooms, the sound of voices carried through the door and, on opening it, she was met with even more boisterous bickering than usual:

"Seriously, you guys owe me," Havoc was saying. "I called it."

"What?! Then you are conveniently forgetting the other night?!" Becca replied incredulously. "And you heard what she said."

"That was nothing." Breda shook his head vehemently. "Just trying to get into our heads."

"But what about what he said? Kind of odd if that was nothing. And the plane?!"

"That could have been nothing, too," Fuery shrugged.

"Yeah, come on. You've got nada." Havoc's smile was smug, and he leaned against the back of a couch.

"What are you guys talking about?" Mustang chuckled, enveloping his niece in a hug when she came to greet him.

The four participants in the argument looked up sharply, not having noticed their entrance, before sharing a series of furtive looks with each other. Finally, Becca said with a shrug, "Nothing. We just had this stupid joke..." She raised her eyebrows at the others, as if asking for help.

"Okay," Breda began. "See, we had this crazy idea that you...and..."

"We had a pool going on you and Hawkeye...getting together," Havoc suddenly interrupted.

Riza caught Mustang's eye for an instant, brow furrowed, and then asked, "What?" A short silence followed her question, in which she tried in vain to think of some interaction they may have seen.

"Well…?" Fuery started, eying the rest of the group questioningly.

"See!" Havoc waved a hand in their direction. "Nothing. It's time to give me your money."

"That doesn't prove anything," Becca retorted.

"It's more convincing than your so-called evidence." Breda was all skepticism.

"This could go on forever," Mustang muttered, abruptly cupping her face to turn her head, and kissed. It took her a second to react, momentarily caught off guard by the action as they had been avoiding too much contact. Keeping their distance as if they'd pressed pause, stuck in a mutually agreed upon, though no less irksome, state of suspended animation. Vaguely, she was aware that the argument died away, and when they broke apart she smiled at him, a gesture he reciprocated.

Then Becca triumphantly declared with a satisfied grin, "I told you. Pay up, losers."

They watched as the four involved in the bet engaged in a lively exchange of cash, the discussion turning to the topic of dinner. Amused, she shook her head and waved for Mustang and Elicia to follow her back out of the room. Once in the hall she led them toward another interrogation room and, at their expressions of mild confusion, she said, "I have a surprise for you." She stepped inside, receiving more curious looks, and simply flipped on the television screen set up near the far wall.

Elicia's face lit up immediately, her smile one of disbelief, and she took slow steps toward it. "Dad?"

"Hey, meerkat. Are you staying out of trouble?" There were a few cuts on his face, a yellowing bruise beneath one eye, and his voice was marginally raspy, but he was alive.

She nodded, eyes still wide. "You're...you're okay?"

"I'm okay."

She turned to Mustang. "But you said..."

"I know, kiddo. I'm so sorry I lied to you but, for our little trap to work, I had to tell you that story."

Elicia only gave another nod.

"Don't be mad at him, okay?" Hughes added, drawing her attention back to the television. "By the way, Roy, you still owe me two-hundred bucks…don't think the cracked skull made me forget." As Riza watched she thought his lighthearted manner seemed a tiny bit forced, as though he were trying to be cheerful for his daughter's benefit. They were both still grieving for Gracia, he had nearly died, and he wanted to give Elicia hope.

"Would I welch on you?"

"Probably. And you look like shit, my friend."

Mustang chuckled. "Thanks, man. It's great to see you, too."

The teen sat on the table that stood several feet in front of the television. "I'm just...I'm just glad you're alright." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "When can I see you?"

Hughes shook his head. "I'm not sure about the time-frame, Lici, but we'll get to see each other soon. I promise."

Riza turned back to the door and tapped Mustang's arm. "You'll have twenty minutes...that's all I could swing."

His gripped her hand, pulling her gently back when she tried to leave, his dark eyes full of gratitude and relief. "Thank you." With a smile, she gave his arm a light squeeze and left them to catch up.

AN: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked the chapter, and have a great day!

Responses to guest reviews (in order of posting):

Nightsong: Thank you! Really. I hope you know how great this was to read! :)

Guest (Oct 31): Thank you! I am thrilled to hear you're enjoying it :)

Anon-chan: Thank you so much :) I'm so glad you're liking the story, and that was such a wonderful compliment to receive!