]o[ ]o[ ]o[

Games without Frontiers

Chapter 28: Something's Gonna Give

Rating M

Soundtrack: Push – Matchbox 20

Riza looked at the uniform spread on her bed and briefly thought her life was over. She had passed the magical threshold while she wasn't paying attention and had to officially requisition the cursed uniform designed for women who had the misfortune to be pregnant in the military. The powers that be told her that what she requested was on back order and sent her what they had, with was a sad collection of maternity wear for several phases.

She was consoled by reminding herself that the jacket was only the first in a line of maternity clothing; her lip turned up at the thought of the tent that they called a full-on regulation maternity jacket. Roy laughed when he saw it. And that was why he would be walking with a limp for the next three days.

After the high cut, close fitting shorts she was determined to wear for modesty's sake, she slipped on the skirt – the skirt – and adjusted the stretchy panel. This piece of clothing alone told her what the military thought of a soldier who had the misfortune to get pregnant while on active in her second trimester in the military. It was very similar in design to the non-combatant uniform and just as uncomfortable.

She remembered someone offering her that suit right after she was assigned to Roy's command. She remembered telling the Quartermaster what he could do with that skirt.

She buttoned up her shirt (no more turtlenecks for her), then on went the jacket. Only those who knew her well would be able to tell that she was hanging on to standard operating procedure by a thread. Her rebellion against the whole get up was the pistol strapped to her thigh. It kept at least one weapon in hands reach.

When she looked in the mirror, she wanted to blast a hole directly through the glass. She looked like she just rolled out of bed. Nothing tucked, nothing flat and smooth – how many more months of this did she have to endure?

"You're thinking out loud again."

She jumped three feet, then turned and glared at Roy. "When are you going home?" she grumbled, only half joking.

"You were the one begging me to stay last night," Roy said in a smarmy voice.

"Remind me to get my head examined at my next visit."

"Consider it an order, First Lieutenant."

Riza shook her head and gave a reluctant smile. She really didn't mind the fact that he preferred to stay with her rather than go home. She'd seen his home; it was perfect for a bachelor and that was it. Of course, it was always in the back of her mind that someone would eventually notice him leaving her home at odd hours, but, in the end his presence was a comfort to her.

They never traveled together, not from his home nor from hers. She still performed her duty as his driver when he requested it, but he did so rarely. Maybe it was paranoia to the extreme, but she was certainly not in the mood for silly, intrusive questions. Not now, not when she recalled the report they had gotten from Hughes, the day before.

There had been an explosion on a train, hauling cargo from the Northern Territory, through Eastern, and toward Central. No one had been injured, thank goodness, but the train had passed through all inspection points before exploding midway between Eastern Headquarters and Central. Hughes was still in the midst of preliminary investigations, but he did tell them that he knew it was no accident, and that an incendiary device had been found. For the explosion to have occurred when it did, the device had to have been on the train when it was inspected in Eastern. Along with the thefts in Northern, the eye of suspicion was turning once again in the Colonel's direction.

Roy had been ready to storm down and question every one of the inspectors, but between Riza and Hughes, they managed to calm him down enough to allow Hughes to handle the investigation. There was something about the whole thing picking at Riza's intuition, something that didn't feel right about the situation as a whole, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"If it helps, the uniform looks fantastic," Roy said, coming behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Which just accentuated her swelling waistline.

"Isn't the car here yet?" she said pointedly.

Roy held up his hands. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving!" He stood behind her as she continued to glare into the mirror. "What are you so angry about?"

"What do you think, Roy? I'm going to look like a river barge soon."

"Ah... yes, you are. You're pregnant."

She wanted to pop him in the side of his head. Oblivious. "Well, thank you for your sensitivity! As the other party to blame, it is your duty to deny what I am saying and tell me I'm beautiful or some such nonsense."

"Well, that you're beautiful goes without saying," He grinned even as he rubbed at his temple. "I thought you knew that."

The Master of the back-handed compliment. That was what he was. She rolled her eyes and pointed at the door. "To work. You have thirteen reports to sign and get out before noon."

"Thirteen?" he whined, then sighed. "By noon?"

She straightened her shoulders and assumed her office persona. "By noon. And if you hide even one of them, I'll shoot you in the foot."

"I don't like you much."

"Good." She pointed at the door and watched him shuffle out like a child sent to his corner. After she was sure that the car pulled off, she picked up her phone. After the call had been placed, she tapped her fingers on her table, waiting for Hughes to answer.

"What else do you know about the explosion?" She asked him after enduring the latest news of Elysia's explorations into food preparation. If Roy took even one picture of their child...

"It doesn't look good, Riza," Hughes told her. "There is no doubt that there was a bomb. The fact that it was mistimed was pure luck. And it had to have been on the train before it reached Eastern. The bomb was made up of some of the stolen components from Tin City."

Riza cursed. "So, what does it all mean?"

"I don't know yet. At this preliminary stage, it looks like the inspection team in Eastern was careless, which will bring a censure upon their commander's head. Meaning, Roy."

"And? I know there's more to it than that."

"And if you're looking for more, then someone on the inspection team had to know of the bomb, which will mean more investigation and perhaps an even more than a mere censure." Hughes took a breath. "Either way, unless I find more, all of the inspectors from Northern to Eastern Headquarters will be in a lot of trouble, and by default–,"

"The Colonel will be watched even more carefully."

"At the very least."

"That is not good, Hughes."

"Roy has only been disciplined two other times since he gained his latest promotion, both for minor infractions. Untimely processing of relevant documentation and improper requisition of supplies."

Riza winced.

"This...it could cost him a little more than just a tap on the nose. A great deal of damage was done."

"Are you talking suspension, Hughes?"

"It could be construed as negligence at a minimum." There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end of the phone, accompanied by the sound of shuffling paper. "Ah, let's see... anything from suspension of duty for thirty days... to arrest in quarters for the same... to a full-blown court-martial."

"Court-martial?" Tiny frissons of fear danced down her spine. There were people who were just dying to sit in on the court-martial of Roy Mustang.

"Yes, and this is why I haven't reported my findings yet. I need to know more. This isn't mere negligence. Kimblee was involved so there has to be more."

There was a solitary saving grace and she snatched at it. "They wouldn't court-martial a State Alchemist, would they?"

"Not normally. But if he doesn't pass his assessment, they most certainly will."

Both fell silent; their thoughts in perfect harmony.

"Well, do what you can," Riza said. "I'll do what I can to keep him from reacting if he's questioned."

"He has to know there's more to this than meets the eye. He'll keep it together."

"Oh? Like he did when we captured Kimblee."

Hughes sighed. "Believe me, he was holding back. He wanted to do more. We all did."

A wave of guilt washed over Riza. "Maes…"

"Oh, no you don't!" he said. "If there is anyone to worry about your situation, it's me for starting it."

Riza sighed. "All right... just do what you can."

"You know I will."

Fortunately, the office was running as normal when she arrived. She peered at the Colonel's desk just to make sure all of the files were still there. Despite his usual whining, he was busy at the task of applying his signature to each form.

Her mind was only marginally at ease by the time her internal alarm clock told her it was time to eat her mid-afternoon meal.

As she devoured her food with the same single-minded determination of a starved goat, she nodded when Havoc slid into the seat next to her.

"Hungry, Hawkeye?" he asked, giving her a crooked grin.

"Watch your fingers."

Havoc laughed, then subsided and leaned closer. "Hey. Heard about the explosion."

Riza frowned.

"If you like, I could poke around and ask a few questions."

Riza sighed and put down her fork. "We should stay out of it, and let Hughes do his work."

"I don't mean overtly, Hawkeye." He leaned in closer. "I know a few guys on the inspections team. We could go out for drinks, we could gossip, I could find out things that Hughes and his people won't get because he's brass."

She gave it some thought, then looked at him. "What, are you trying to get out of the office for a while, Havoc?" she asked, grinning slightly.

Havoc flushed. "He told you everything, didn't he?"

"Of course he did. Turnabout is fair play, after all."

"I need to get away somewhere where I can think clearly, is all," Havoc squirmed on the bench. "Can't do that if he's tromping in and out of the office all day long."

Riza smiled. "He seems to be doing all right, considering." She nudged him. "He is the younger party after all."

"And that's the problem." Havoc chewed on his cigarette for a minute or two, looking around the room for eavesdroppers. "He's barely sixteen, dammit!" he hissed. "What, am I crazy?"

Riza pushed her plate away and pulled the coffee cup closer. "That's an honest question; I would have been disappointed if you weren't challenging your motives. However, first of all, sixteen is the age of majority and the age of consent. I was sixteen when I joined the army; Roy was fifteen when he became a State Alchemist." She took a sip of the liquid tar in her cup. "Second, sixteen doesn't fit on Edward the same way it would fit on any other boy," she said. "His experiences stretch those years into something more resembling twice that number. He's seen more and has been through more – in his few years than I think any of us will ever see."

"Yeah, all of that makes sense. It's also almost exactly what the Colonel said," Havoc muttered. "I guess I can't see beyond that number, though."

"Well, that is a problem only you must decide to overcome." Riza stood and rubbed the small of her back. "If you wish to. It's simple. He's not like other teenage boys. If he were, I'd blow your man-bits off for even thinking what you're thinking. Factor that heavily into your equation."

"Now, that is precisely what the Colonel said."

"Well, he does have his moments of blazing wisdom, you know."

Upon her return, she found the Colonel seated at his desk, a pasty shade of pale, holding a document on thick parchment. As he seemed incapable of speech, she walked over and took the sheet from his slack fingers.

As she read, she recalled all of the other times she'd seen this particular document. This was the fourteenth. And it was, by her calculations, early.

And that was what Maes meant by 'failing the assessment'. "Your re-assessment? Isn't that not for another three months?"

The Colonel's vision cleared and he looked at her. "I supposed not," he grated out. "They wish to assess me early."

Riza felt her stomach drop. "Why would they do that?" she asked, although she knew the answer.

"If I pass, I retain my position for another year. I start a new year, as it were," he said, leaning back and staring out of the window. "If I fail..."

If he failed, he would no longer be a State Alchemist, no longer be the Flame Alchemist, and no longer be of use to the Army. Fair game to all of his detractors.

She shook herself. "If? What do you mean if you pass?" She said in a strident voice. "Try saying when you pass, Colonel. Why wouldn't you pass?" She looked at his desk, determined to snatch his attention from this sudden change in his affairs. "Have you finished those reports to go to Central?"

"Ah..."

Her eyes narrowed. "You'd better because I am about to suggest that you go directly to the libraries and begin your preparations."

He winced and slid a folder from under his blotter. Riza pursed her lips and put a hand on her thigh holster. She snatched it from him and took it to her desk. "I'll affix your seal, sir. Now, I believe the library is waiting for you."

Riza's mind whizzed as she put the Colonel's official seal on the document. If – when – he passed, he would start a new year. The higher brass would be less likely to send a newly re-certified Alchemist to court-martial, no matter the circumstance. The most powerful weapons of the military were beyond the reach of even the law in most cases, and a re-assessment of the Flame Alchemist would remind them of the singular value of this particular weapon. Any potential intrigues surrounding the Colonel would grind back down to a slow crawl for the foreseeable future.

However, should he fail his re-assessment... the Colonel was a legendary procrastinator. If he failed due to lack of preparation or motivation, he would lose his status– thus any protections held by the office. They would hit him and hit him hard.

Her hand froze, a pen hovering over a fresh sheet of paper. That thing she knew of as her intuition thumped her on the head and made every thought stop and take notice. Since there had been no time in her memory that her intuition failed her, she knew this to be an unfortunate thing. Because now it was screaming at her that there was more to this early assessment than just a re-arrangement of schedule.

Her ride home was congested with thoughts tumbling over ideas, mental equations fighting for supremacy in her head. Some of her conclusions were far-fetched, some seemed far too close for comfort, and all of which left her with a feeling of dread.

Hayate gave her a momentary relief as he demanded her affections for a good twenty minutes after she walked through her door. She grinned down at him, ran him through his usual commands, and fed him as soon as he was done.

As she changed, her mind tumbled back down into its whirlwind, even as she fought the downward spiral to something... she couldn't even think about it.

There was someone who wanted to challenge Roy; someone trying to keep him from reaching his goal. Which meant someone had to know about his goal; at least enough to want him to stumble on his way to the top, if not outright fail.

She heard the key turning in the lock and moved to the living room to greet him. She wasn't sure if she should tell him of her suspicions, then she saw his face.

He already knew.

There were shadows in his eyes as he sat on her couch. "I'm paranoid, aren't I?"

She had prided herself on always being honest with this man. She thought it quite necessary to his survival. She wasn't going to change that now. "I don't believe so. I'm sorry."

He looked at her. She remembered that look; she'd first seen it six years ago when he realized his ambition. Then, she didn't quite know what to do to remove it from his face. Today was different. It probably wasn't the best solution, but here in this house, she could use means at her disposal that normally weren't available. She walked over and took his hand.

"You can procrastinate for one more night," she whispered, and drew him into the bedroom. "I promise I won't shoot you in the foot."

He had no smart comments for her. Nothing but silence and a slight desperation. It was almost the same as that first night between them when she yanked him from the edge of someplace dark.

She undressed him in silence. Once, only once, he pulled her in and pressed his lips to hers; hard and seeking something that he apparently found because he lay back and waited.

Once he was naked and sprawled on her bed, eyes locked on her like a lifeline, she got rid of her own clothes. Then she stood there, for a second unsure. Then she shook herself. This wasn't about her, or about how she felt about the way she looked right then. This was about him, and removing that look of utter uncertainty, tinged with fear, from his face. It was about taking the lingering doubt out of his eyes. No lovely, soothing words would do that. He needed something physical, something tangible to uncoil the tension.

His hands on her skin would do it, warm and firm. Her lips on his would help as well, soft and yielding. Her breasts against his chest, her legs around his, her body enveloping his. She moved over him, pulling him deeper inside of her with each movement, and watched his eyes go from dark and dead, to overflowing with storms. Finally, she saw him close his eyes and fling his head back, letting go. With a soft laugh, she pulled him and turned him so that she was beneath him and urged him on with a flick of her hips. He stared down at her for an eternity. His hands smoothed over his stomach, resting when he felt the flutters of their child moving inside of her, then moving down the inside of her thigh, to the backs of her knees. Still silent and calm, he pulled her legs to rest on his shoulders and moved back inside of her with a slow and even stroke.

It wasn't long after that he came, lowering her legs, bending over and stifling his cry in her shoulder, growling his release into her neck. And even in the haze as he came down, he refused to land directly on her. He rolled to the side and pulled her with him, wrapping himself around her like a vine. She smiled and stroked whatever part of him she could reach, not minding the fact that she couldn't breathe for a moment or two.

"What would I do without you..." he murmured into her hair.

"Probably the same thing you do every day," she said into his chest.

He leaned back and looked into her face. "I don't think so." He pushed a strand of hair from her face. "I'm not sure what the hell took me so long, but I'm glad we're no longer wasting our time." He lowered his gaze. "Whatever is going on–,"

"Don't–,"

"No, listen. Whatever is going on here, whether it's nothing or something more sinister, I've no regrets about us. And I'm not going anywhere. You understand what I'm saying?"

Riza nodded, not daring to interrupt this declaration. She knew he probably would never repeat it again. For things such as this, it wasn't his way to be overblown. He saved all the dramatic flair for the performances he put on for the outside world.

And that, more than anything, was why she was willing to do the things she did for him.

"I wish I could just stay here and never go home," he whispered simply.