Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.

AN: Hello all! I hope everyone's new year has been a happy one so far! I'm not including the list of codenames since I don't believe I used any in this chapter, and I think this chapter might be the only one without codenames, which seems crazy. Also, responses to any guest reviews from the last post can be found at the end of this one. That said, this is the last chapter of the Trickster and the Lionheart, and I'm a little sad that it's over. Thank you so much for all the support and feedback! It has been wonderful and I appreciate all my lovely readers! I hope you enjoy the chapter :)

The Final Chapter (~17 days later)

Roy shut the door and leaned on it with a heavy sigh, loosening his tie and feeling utterly relieved to be home. The couple weeks since the showdown with Kimblee had been an exhausting carousel of debriefings and interrogations, which generally led to days that stretched into eternity. First, the Central Intelligence Agency had spoken to his team, and then came a round of questioning with the Federal Bureau of investigation, followed by various other agencies and government officials that had gotten wind of what happened. If they called him in one more time, he was seriously considering pressing charges.

Shortly after their return to the States, Roy and his team were exonerated of all accusations of misconduct. Evidently, despite the fact that they'd had no word from Hawkeye, Director Armstrong, or anyone else, the right people received the necessary evidence to clear them of suspicion. The weapon and plans had been recovered, it was proved beyond a doubt that his team was framed, and the infamous Kimblee was out of the picture. Needless to say, the arms dealer's absence had been noticed, and it was the talk of intelligence and law enforcement circles.

"Uncle Roy?" Elicia's voice called his attention as she peeked into the hallway from the kitchen, her tone one of warmhearted exasperation. "Will you please make Dad sit down? He won't listen to me."

He chuckled with a nod, walking tiredly into the room to find the man standing at the counter. "Maes...stop being an idiot." Hughes' injuries were still healing and, given the severity of his leg wound and subsequent lack of mobility, Roy had invited them to move in with him.

"Not being an idiot, just...proactive." His friend winced briefly after accidentally putting too much weight on the leg in question.

Roy moved around the island in the center of the room and put Hughes' arm around his shoulder, helping him hobble back to the table. "Pushing yourself too hard won't help."

"Yeah, yeah." He exhaled in pain as he sat, using his hands to lift his leg and rest it on the chair next to his. "That's what I keep hearing, but somebody had to make dinner."

"How was PT?" he asked, pacing back to the refrigerator and cracking open a beer. He peered into the pot of soup simmering on the stove and grabbed a spoon to taste it before joining his friend at the kitchen table.

"It was great. Not at all painful," Hughes facetiously replied.

"He's making progress." Elicia sat between them, wearing a broad smile. "The therapist said he's her best patient."

"I'm pretty sure she's just being nice," he replied, wrapping an arm around his daughter's shoulders to give her a half hug. Looking over at Roy he added, "What did they want today?"

He took a swig and then rubbed a hand over his face. "They offered me a job...Raven's job. I would be the Deputy Director of the Criminal Investigative division."

"That's good, right?" Hughes asked.

He gave a light shrug. "Maybe. I haven't decided yet. I told them I was going to take some time off...think about it."

"Are you okay, Uncle Roy?" Elicia quietly asked, looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He nodded, giving her a small smile. "Just tired."

She hesitated, slowly turning her glass of water on the tabletop. "Have you talked to Riza? Cause I...I was just wondering how Kain was doing."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lici. I haven't heard anything yet. As soon as I do, I'll tell you."

"Okay." There was another moment of indecision, and then, "Do you think we'll see them again?"

"I don't know. I'm sure we'd all like to, but... it's a complicated situation." He took a drink, hoping to change the subject. "Let's eat. I'm starving." He doled out bowlfuls of soup and they had a quick, late dinner before Elicia went off to do make-up work for school and Hughes went to rest. Taking another beer from the fridge, he retreated into his room and stretched out on the bed with a book. He was able to hear just a hint of the music playing in Elicia's room, and glanced upward when sounds of remodeling came from the unit above his. He attempted to read distractedly for a while before shutting off the light and lying back, his mind preoccupied.

The time since the final operation in Naples was a blur, and it had been in no way easy to keep Hawkeye out of his head. He still had no idea where they'd gone or if he'd see her again, and he could not deny he'd hoped for more. What exactly 'more' entailed he couldn't say, since he knew they both had their lives and it would be absurd to expect that to change after mere weeks, but he would have been open to discussion.

While others in his position might have been angry, he did not feel it was his place. She was a clandestine agent, and he understood that disappearing acts came with the territory. In truth, he was more disappointed and hurt than anything else. For one thing, he was absolutely positive that what had developed between them was mutual. They never spoke about it, never labeled it, but they both knew it was there. For another, it was quite possible that the blonde thief he once chased had turned out to be the person most capable of understanding him. And that was never an easy thing to lose, especially since memories of their time together had been running through his mind all too frequently.

He exhaled, glaring at the ceiling when the incessant noise in the room above him became even louder, wresting him from his thoughts. It was a cacophony of hammering, the shifting of furniture, and the occasional saw, with some heavy footfalls thrown in for good measure. It had been going on for a solid week and, though he liked to think he was a patient man, he was quickly reaching the point that might lead him to punch someone.

He closed his eyes, trying to tune it out, but they quickly opened again at the racket's resurgence and he left the apartment. He took the stairs to the next floor, thinking about how he'd hate to be 'that guy,' but it was already midnight and he was plenty drained as it was. He knocked and took a breath, calming himself to make sure he was not too abrasive with his neighbor, but when the door swung inward his jaw fell open instead. "Havoc?"

"Hey, man." He hooked a thumb toward the rooms behind him. "Sorry if we're making a ton of noise, just trying to get a few changes made before all our stuff's here. We'll quit for the night, though."

Roy's brow furrowed. "When you said you were moving, you neglected to mention you took the unit above mine."

"Oh, hey!" said an upbeat voice that he instantly recognized.

"Hey, Bec. How are you?" He forced a smile onto his face, but the twinge of resignation in his chest was difficult to ignore. If nothing was keeping Becca away, it meant that Hawkeye had decided, and that whatever future she had chosen did not involve him.

"I'm great!" She grinned, elbowing Havoc. "I'm moving in with this guy...and I'm going legit." She paused. "Well...sort of."

He waved a hand toward the other doors down the hall. "Last I knew all the units were full. How'd you get one?"

"Fuery bought the building..." Becca told him, as if that should have been obvious. "...and kinda encouraged people to move out. With money. He's taking the entire top floor, and Breda's taking the apartment across from ours." She paused and shared a quick look with Havoc, clearly hesitant. "I...I don't know about Riz. She disappeared after debriefs, and didn't tell me where she was going. She does that sometimes."

"Debriefs," he repeated, not entirely certain how to respond to the rest of her informative declaration. "We wondered what happened to you."

"We were holed up at a black site for nine god-awful days. No contact with the world, no leaving, just interviews. It fucking sucked."

He let out a quiet chuckle. "Tell me about it. That's been my life lately." He fought back a yawn and added, "It was good to see you guys, but I'm gonna head back down."

"We won't work anymore tonight...promise."

"Thanks." With a small wave he was heading back down the stairs, his mind already returned to its pensive state. Once in his apartment he went directly to the kitchen, grabbing another beer and taking a long swig. He glanced around the darkened room, nodding a few times as if to will himself into acceptance. Part of him had assumed that he would hear from Hawkeye eventually. Evidently he was wrong.

In all honesty, Riza had never felt like such a coward in her life. Fear had gotten the best of her before, she was only human, but not quite like this, and she was as far from proud as one could be. When she left Naples she had little choice, having direct orders from Liv to leave immediately for a black site. And to her chagrin she'd felt a sliver of relief, since disappearing meant she could avoid the conversation with Mustang that she was not ready to have. The conversation in which they would acknowledge and perhaps even act on everything that had been happening between them. Such a coward.

She had never felt so conflicted, either. On the one hand, she felt the urge to maintain the life of comfortable anonymity she had spent years cultivating, and on the other there was a powerful desire to give up that familiar life. Riza knew Mustang was the cause of her hesitation, and the significance of that thought was sobering.

As if to make matters worse, during her interviews Liv had informed her team that Ross' claims were false and that their covers were still intact, which meant she could carry on as before. In the next breath, her friend offered her a position overseeing operations from her offices in D.C., meaning she would no longer be a covert operative. She could exist as herself, live in the same place for an extended period of time, and do normal things like visit the same café more than once, or date an FBI agent. It was so far outside her comfort zone that it petrified her.

Riza was ashamed to admit that a third option had crossed her mind: vanish completely and live off the sizable nest-egg built by her father, the General, and herself. But she refused to take the easy escape. After leaving Italy without a farewell and being unable to bring herself to contact him in the six days since her release from debriefs, she'd decided that no matter her decision she would speak to him in person. He deserved that much at the very least, which was why she was in a taxi, apprehensively watching buildings flit by and hoping that seeing her after more than two weeks of silence would not be the worst part of his day.

A bag of her few remaining possessions sat next to her, and she could not count the number of times she wanted to ask the driver to head right back to the airport. Instead she handed him some cash and stepped out onto the curb, strangely feeling that she would almost rather disarm a bomb. She inhaled, chest tight, and ascended the stairs to his floor to give herself a little more time to gather her thoughts. Coming to a stop in front of the entrance to unit 302, she realized she was more agitated at that moment than she had been before the mission in Naples.

She knocked three times and then ran a hand through her hair, pausing when she heard steps approaching the door. When it opened her stomach clenched and, before she could really process seeing him again, she smiled nervously and said, "Hi," instantaneously thinking it was one of the more lame openers at her disposal.

"...Hi." Mustang watched her for a second, dark eyes displaying surprise, and she was briefly unsure of what to do. His hair was damp, likely from a recent shower, and the implications of that thought led to others but she shook her mind clear. She felt something like a wave of relief on seeing him, which made the concern that he might turn her away that much more intimidating. After what felt like an age he pushed the door further open, waving a hand inside, and with a small, appreciative curve of the lips she followed him into the kitchen. He reached into the fridge and asked, "Beer?"

"Sure." She hastily twisted off the cap and drank, hoping for a little liquid courage. "How are you?"

"Ridiculously busy...Hughes and Elicia moved in, I've had a ton of interviews..." He trailed off.

Riza shook her head, voice softening. "I'm not sure why I asked that. I didn't come here for small talk." She exhaled, hands idly playing with the bottle. "I owe you an apology...for disappearing like that. At first I had no choice and then...I needed some time." She paused. "You deserved more."

"True." He gave a little smirk, leaning against the counter, and she liked to think there was a note of jest in his voice. "But...we've all had a lot to think about. I get it." He took a drink, and she knew he was waiting to hear the reason for her visit.

Taking a deep breath and deciding to take the plunge, she met his gaze again. "I came in from the cold, Roy. My covert status has been terminated...effective immediately." He stilled, the bottle inches from his lips. "My old life isn't enough anymore...mostly because I want you in it."

He stayed motionless for a moment and then took a step toward her, her pulse spiking when she felt his fingertips on the side of her neck. He gently pulled her into a kiss, threading his fingers into her hair, and her hand gripped the front of his shirt. She drew him closer and, without breaking contact, started to lead him from the kitchen. He guided her down the hall, his fingers grazing her waist, and they smiled into each others lips as they gently bumped against a wall. Riza deftly loosened the first few buttons of his shirt, wrenching it free of his pants and pulling it over his head. He pushed her jacket off, his hand lightly following the curve of her shoulder, and she slipped out of her shoes. She ran her hands down his bare abdomen to remove his belt, softly biting his lip when his fingers traced her spine.

Still moving backward she took off her top as he stepped out of his pants, a small sound escaping her when he wrapped his arms around her, his skin warm on hers. Her back collided with another wall and he lifted her, carrying her a few more steps until they fell onto a bed. He reached down to unfasten her jeans and brushed his lips along her jaw, the hollow of her throat, her sternum. Then he pulled the waist of her pants down slightly, pressing his lips to the soft skin just above her hip.

With a smile Riza looked over at the man lying next to her, watched his chest rise and fall slowly, followed the ridges of his abdomen down to the sheets at his waist. The apartment was quiet, peacefully so, and it struck her that no one was trying to kill her, no mission awaited on the immediate horizon. It was an uncommonly tranquil moment, and very few times in her life had she felt so thoroughly content.

She rolled out of the covers and slipped on one of Roy's shirts before walking to the kitchen, her bare feet silent on the wood floor. Looking around the kitchen for a glass, she filled it with water when she found one, turning mid-drink when she heard footsteps. He stopped in front of her to borrow the beverage, and she twitched in surprise when his other hand traced the unadorned tattoo on the side of her hip, the outline of a bird in flight. "I noticed this, by the way...I like it."

"Thank you." She glanced down at the tattoo. "It was my first. Mom loved birds, always had feeders all over the yard, and song sparrows were her favorite." Looking him over, she added, "You don't have any...I thought you would."

"I said I might," he chuckled. "Not my fault you thought that meant I do." He refilled the glass. "And nice try, but no subject changes...we're talking about you. The salamander. I asked before if it meant anything and you said 'yes and no.' What's that about?"

Riza laughed. "Of course you remember that." She looked at him, strangely finding it impossible to stop grinning. "It's nothing deep...I just liked it. And since I was getting it, we encoded in the design the location of every cache my Dad ever had."

His eyes widened. "Seriously?"

She nodded, but when she next spoke it was not in answer to his question. "Ah...this is kind of sudden, and I know it may not be the best idea. We haven't known each other long, and Liv told me you took the job she offered you….so we'd also be working together. And if it's too much, I understand, but..."

He tilted his head, eyes amused. "Are you trying to say you want to move in with me?"

"Yes." She gave a little self-conscious snicker, taking his hand and pulling him toward her. "My house did explode."

"Yeah, and I seem to recall you being the one that blew it up." He hugged her, casting his gaze over the apartment. "I think there's enough room here for one more." He brushed his lips over the skin between her neck and shoulder. "Do I get some sort of bonus for living and working with you?"

Riza heard the playful note in his voice, and his breath on her neck made her skin tingle. "Yeah. Living and working with me. Was that not obvious?"

He chuckled quietly, his mouth at a point just below her clavicle, and then a key scraped in the lock and they both looked in the direction of the door. "What's with the chain, Boss?" Havoc's voice came from the hallway outside the apartment. "I came to steal food...let me in."

They shared a smirk, hurrying to collect their abandoned clothes and racing to the bedroom to get dressed. He was ready first and threw her another grin as he turned away, shutting the door to give her some privacy. She looked around the room as she finished, picking up the photo of Roy and his parents that she'd seen the last time she was in his apartment.

Setting it back down, she took a small picture from her jacket pocket, running a finger over the partially frayed edge. Her mother and father were beaming, her younger-self sat between them on a wrought iron bench in the park where her parents first met. They had just gotten ice cream, and she remembered that it was the last time they had all been together. She leaned the photo up next to Roy's and, with a final quirk of her lips, she left the room.

Later that same evening, Riza sipped a glass of wine and watched Mustang move about the kitchen preparing dinner. He was talking to himself while he cooked and she simply observed, still growing accustomed to her new circumstances. Her lone bag was already unpacked and, since her belongings had been substantially diminished when she destroyed the safe-house, that meant she was essentially moved in. It felt a touch strange, but in an undoubtedly good way.

"You keep watching me." Roy gave whatever was in the saucepan a stir, eyes narrowed playfully. "Making sure I don't screw up?"

"Not at all." She shook her head. "It smells amazing. What are we having?"

"Osso bucco with gremolata and risotto." He laughed lightly. "Ever since Becca mentioned it the night of the sting I've had a craving for it."

The front door suddenly closed with a bang and Riza smirked. "Speak of the devil."

"Hey, would you come stir the risotto? It needs constant attention." He smiled at her as she sidled in front of him, feigning annoyance and taking possession of the spoon. With a hand on her waist, his other brushed her hair aside, and she tilted her head so he could graze his lips over her neck. "Thanks."

"Unless you want this to burn, you'd better stop distracting me." She turned her head to kiss him, and his arm started to wrap around her.

"Something smells pretty great in here, Mustang," Becca greeted loudly, her footsteps in the hall reminding them that she'd arrived. "Surprisingly."

"He might know his way around a kitchen better than you, Bec," Riza replied with a coltish grin, more than mildly disappointed that he was moving away to check the veal.

"How dare you." She paused in the doorway before coming to give her a hug. "Hey, Riz, it's good to see you."

"Hey, yourself." She poured a bit more warmed broth into the risotto and stirred while it was absorbed. "I hear you're living upstairs."

"Yeah. It's a good thing I came along, too. Jean can't decorate for shit."

"Gee, thanks," Havoc said, joining them in the kitchen. "Look who I ran into coming down the hallway," he added, pointing behind him with his thumb.

"It's official, Uncle Roy. You've eaten all the Oreos in D.C.," Elicia began, dropping several bags on the counter while Breda helped her father limp into the room. She glanced over the stove while she shrugged off her coat and continued, "Dad said you should really think about working out but I told him to..." She paused. "Riza?"

"Hi there, Little one." She passed the stirring obligations off to Becca and embraced the teen, adding quietly, "I missed you."

Elicia pulled back, expression suddenly serious, gaze searching. "Are you staying?"

Riza nodded. "I am."

"Good." She pulled her by the hand toward where Hughes still stood with Breda. "Dad, this is Riza. Riza, Dad."

They shook hands, and his green eyes were cheerful and bright despite everything that had befallen him. "Thank you," he softly said as Breda moved away. "I'm told you saved my daughter..." He gestured to her left, where Mustang had appeared. "...and you kept him alive, which is basically a miracle, cause he's an idiot."

"And you're an ass."

Hughes ignored his friend's comeback, tilting his head as he considered her, eyes narrowing somewhat. "I was bleeding out...and you held my hand."

"You did?" Roy asked, and she felt his hand graze her arm.

She opened her mouth, looking around the small circle, and then said, "I wanted you to know you weren't alone."

"Thank you." He nodded. "It gave me something to focus on."

She gave a small smile. "You're welcome. It's great to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Same here..." It was then that he noticed how close she and Roy were standing. He did not address it, but he grinned cheekily at his friend to make it known that he saw, and said, "How's dinner coming? I'm famished."

"Oh, right. Should be ready soon," Mustang responded, walking away to check their progress while everyone gathered around the kitchen island.

"What are you gonna do now, Bec?" Elicia asked curiously, snacking on some sliced veggies set out on the counter.

"Director Armstrong asked me to help organize the agent training program. She wants me to revamp their education on interpersonal relationships...and trust me, it needs work. This one time, an agent tried to..."

"Wait..." Havoc interrupted, full comprehension suddenly dawning on him. "...seduction school? All those lame probationary agents are gonna be hitting on you all the time?" He paused. "Do you know how hot you are?"

Becca smiled. "Not on me. They'll be hitting on each other, but thanks, you're kinda sweet. And not at all jealous."

"You'll have to keep an eye on that, Bec," Breda joked. "They call jealousy the green eyed monster for a reason. Don't worry, though. If he gets too possessive I'll shoot him for you."

"Whoa. Not possessive, just...I'm just a guy who knows how great a catch his girlfriend is."

"Nice save, Havoc," Hughes chimed in.

"Hey, guys." Fuery's voice came from the kitchen door, and he held up a box full of cookies. He came to stand next to her with a quiet, "Hi, Riz."

She put am arm around his shoulders, giving a momentary squeeze. "Good to see you, Kain." Lowering her voice, she asked, "And you bought this apartment building?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "Real-estate's a good investment..." His grin turned a little too knowing for her liking. "...and I had a hunch we might all need a place to live."

There was a sudden shout of, "Kain!" and Elicia's arms appeared around his neck in an almost attack-like hug.

The evening continued in much the same way, with their teasing banter and discussion of everyone's plans for the near future. Fuery would be working with her and Roy as tech support on foreign operations, having also taken a job in the Director's office. Havoc and Breda had decided to take positions at the FBI, still in the Criminal Investigative Division, but they would be leading their own team. Elicia would be returning to school soon and, whenever he was ready, Hughes would resume his role at Interpol.

Riza frequently found herself listening with a smile, grateful that they could all be together. After dinner, which was delicious, the group continued chatting and drinking in the kitchen until late into the night. At one point, Mustang came to stand behind her and she reached back, lacing their fingers together, and the natural simplicity of it all made her grin. Later, when the others left for their respective apartments, Hughes drifted off to bed, and Elicia claimed the couch with Fuery for a movie. They quickly cleaned up what remained of dinner and Roy poured them another glass of wine, taking her hand and pulling her into the bedroom.

He kissed her and then glanced behind, possibly looking for something, but his gaze found the photo she had left on his bookshelf earlier. Stretching out a hand he picked it up, eyes widening. "Shit...I never saw Berthold look so happy." He held it up for a second, thoughtful expression taken over by one of his smirks. "Does this mean you haven't changed your mind?"

She chuckled. "No, but I was thinking we could start work with a trip to Prague."

"I thought we were planning and supervising ops, not going on them."

She shrugged. "Baby steps, Roy."

"Of course," he laughed. "And what's in Prague?"

"One of my Dad's stashes that could use some cleaning out. I know a great fence that happens to be in the area." She glided a finger over the scar on his neck. "You met him once."

"What, Barry? Awesome. I was really hoping to run into him again." He interrupted his own speech to take a drink. "This is good...death-by-cleaver has always been a goal of mine."

"It's nice to have goals." Riza smirked, taking a seat on the bed and leaning against the head board.

"Thanks for the support," he joked, sitting next to her.

She turned slightly to drape her legs over his and take the glass of wine. "Don't worry, I'd shoot him before he killed you." He put his arm around her, his laugh reverberating through her, and she bit her lip as another grin blossomed on her face. "So, Prague?"

"Definitely. Believe it or not, I've never almost died in Prague."

"I'm sure we could change that."

Fin

AN: Thank you all again for reading, and I hope you liked the chapter! A quick note: I do have a couple stories in the works that I'm pretty excited about. Keep an eye out if you think you might be interested. I need a little break after the holidays, but I'll be writing and it will hopefully not to too long until I start posting again. Have a good one! :)

Responses to guest reviews:

Guest (12/25): Thanks! I'm glad you liked it! And sorry about the cliff hanger, but hopefully I didn't make you wait too long :)