Where To Roy, The Party Isn't Over

"Well, I'd say that was a success," Edward sighed. Leaning back, he supported himself on the fence with both hands. Human hands of flesh and blood. The wood was old and splinter-prone, but he didn't mind. He enjoyed it. Just like Al enjoyed most any sensation, now that he had regained his body.

The night was cool. A lone cicada chirped into the rural tranquillity of Resembool. A vast difference to not one hour prior.

"You can say that again," Winry agreed. "Your friends sure know how to party."
"They're not my friends!" Ed fumed mildly, then pulled a face. "I still can't believe the Major General showed up…" he said between clenched teeth. "And stayed."

"I'm sure she was curious." Winry joined him, her back against the fence, the emptied bucket of biowaste from preparing dinner at their feet. She wiped her hands on her apron. It was for once not one that was smeared with machine oil. "After all, it's not every day the Fullmetal Alchemist resigns his position – any State Alchemist for that matter."

"Became kinda hard to fulfil the job without Alchemy." Ed grinned.

"I think it was rather sweet that they all came – the soldiers from Briggs I mean."

"Your personal bodyguards."

"And yours," she hinted at the Human Chimeras Zampeno, Jerso, Heinkel and Darius. "I don't wanna sound mean, but I'm glad they left earlier. We can only accommodate so many people, and Resembool isn't known for its numerous inns."

"You know you could've asked the Lieutenant— uh, Captain to share your parents' room," Ed pointed out. Quietly. Shyly, but that, he didn't want to admit to himself. Winry's cheeks adapted the same colour with which his glowed lightly.

"I know you don't want to stay in the same room as the Colonel," she lamely excused. "And I'm… glad," she summoned some courage, placing her hand above his on the fence, "to be sharing with you." She smiled without looking up. Ed's neck heated up further, but he nodded.

"Me too." He wrapped his hand around hers to give a squeeze. "And Al said he wouldn't mind, he— oh, no…" he groaned. Winry frowned, following his gaze. "So much for sharing with Al. What does he think he's doing in the Lieutenant's room?" He glared up at the figures in the window. They were merely black silhouettes behind the drawn curtains where the light was in their backs. Winry narrowed her eyes.

"How do you know it's him?"

"I'd recognise that bastard anywhere," Ed grumbled. "Makes me angry just to look at him."

"Ed."

"He's taller than her and his hair is terrible," Ed concluded more logically. He watched the two figures, most likely talking, standing face to face.

"Aren't the Briggs Soldiers too? Taller than her, I mean."

"And what would they be doing in her room?" Ed raised a brow, never taking his eyes off the couple up above.

"I don't know." Winry pouted. "But Major General Armstrong was sort of sticking to Riza all night. Maybe she sent someone over?"

"True," Ed conceded. "Briggs lost a lot of men." He lowered his head but not his eyes. Soothingly, he ran his thumb over the back of Winry's hand. "And the Major General would be foolish if she didn't see Hawkeye's talent. If not as a sniper and soldier then definitely at the office. She's invaluable to the Colonel's— I mean to the Lieutenant General's career; he'd be toast if it wasn't for her carrying his lazy bum all over Headquarters."

"You're exaggerating."

"Maybe," he shrugged, "but I think without his promotion, things would've become ugly – him and Armstrong annoying each other is one thing, but seriously fighting over the command of a soldier…" he grimaced. "Armstrong would've used her rank and Mustang his connections, how Grumman already allowed— aaaand they're kissing."

"What?" Winry's eyes popped.

"Shhh!" Ed urged, tugging on Winry's hand. They froze, staring up at the window.

The two silhouettes were still there, though they must have sat down by how merely their heads were visible. It was Winry's old room. She and Ed had moved the bed under the window when tidying up and moving into her parents' with the double bed. The light was the only one still burning on the upper floor, but Ed couldn't believe that it was a matter of perspective. Those two heads had just become one.

And still were.

"That idiot's gonna get himself court-martialled. Doesn't he remember that the Ice Queen is staying over too?" Ed raged as quietly as he could.

"Why court-martialled?" Winry whispered. "Haven't they been together for ages?"

"Pff," Ed waved off. "She might be too loyal for her own good, but even Hawkeye knows better than to get involved with Colonel Smartass – I mean Lieutenant General, ah, never mind."

"But she told me once – sort of," Winry explained. Ed's frown intensified. "When they came to ask you to become a State Alchemist. She didn't outright say it, but it was more than obvious. That they're a thing." Even her eleven-year-old self had had no problems figuring it out.

"She couldn't have – there's a law against it," Ed shook his head. When Winry blinked at him with bewilderment, he continued. "The frat law says you're not allowed to date your subordinates or something like that. In any case, Havoc and the rest always made it pretty clear that Hawkeye's off limits for him." Ed jerked his head in the direction of the window. "And if anyone's out for framing Mustang, it's the Major General."

"It's rare for you to get so protective of him." Winry smiled, nudging her shoulder to his.

Ed blushed anew. "It's not him I'm trying to protect – Armstrong could probably file in fraternisation and sexual harassment to save the Lieutenant—"

"Captain."

"Yeah, that," he mumbled. "But Hawkeye won't let him take the blame. If he's going down, then so is she and I can't watch him destroy all that hard work." He gave one last squeeze, then let go of Winry's hand. "Also I can't watch that anymore," he added to himself, "not under our roof." He stomped through the grass before creeping into the house.

Winry watched him go, the wind blowing through her hair as she stared on. Her heart thumped, her chest fluttering warmly. She smiled.

"Our roof…"

The stairs were just as old as the fence, but Ed knew exactly which boards creaked and which didn't. Noiselessly, he made his way upstairs. Everything was dark apart from the thin line of light beneath the last door, guiding him. Everything was silent too, except for the soft voices behind that very door.

Ed's hand hovered over the doorknob. They couldn't have gotten any further than kissing, right? He harked intensely, but when there was nothing, not even the moans he had feared, he opened the door. The idea was to give them a scare after all.

Riza winced where she sat on the bed. Then hiccupped. Roy let out a long breath. In fact, they both seemed to have exhaled rather than gasped. Riza looked every bit as caught as Ed had wanted them to be. She was already dressed for the night – a properly buttoned-up pyjama, as expected of her – and was wearing her hair in a loose braid.

Roy muttered something discouraged before so much as glancing to the side to find out who had intruded. Apart from that, he didn't move much. He certainly didn't retreat from her bed or act even the least bit shocked. Their heads were close but there was no contact as Ed thought to have seen.

Riza hiccupped again, so Roy held up his hand. Fingers outstretched to count down, he waited for her to focus on them.

"Edward," she stuttered.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Roy nagged when she didn't redirect her attention to him. They had been… holding their breaths to cure a hiccup? Heads close, very close but… Ed frowned fiercely. It couldn't have been the angle and the light, surely. He glanced at the curtain. It was creased, perhaps erasing gaps when looked at from below, but… but still!

"Did you need something?" Riza brought him back to the present. He narrowed his eyes at the light pink tint on her cheeks. It prompted her to scoot away from Roy ever so slightly. Not that it made up for the way they were both sitting on her bed, knees already touching, the first buttons of Roy's shirt casually open and his formal waistcoat nowhere to be seen.

She hiccupped again, covering her mouth.

"And I suppose you've never heard of privacy either." Roy arched a single brow. "Take a page from your girlfriend's book and learn how to be a proper host."

Edward growled, but caught himself. "Did you forget that the Major General," he hissed quietly, "is staying two rooms down?" He fixed Roy with an irritated glare. The latter only lifted his chin.

"What are you implying, Fullmetal?" Roy asked, the name slipping out of habit. Ed's cheeks regained their colour, but he held that arrogantly cool gaze with fire in his own.

"I think you know very well what I'm implying. Don't play innocent with me when you're in plain sight." He pointed at the window. His eyes sparked up when he thought to have seen the faintest hint of insecurity flashing across Roy's face. Whatever it had been, it was ironed out not a heartbeat later. As if nothing had ever happened.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Roy raised his hands in defence. "I'm merely paying the Captain a visit to complete some of the forms due Monday," he calmly explained. "Some of us are employed; you might want to give it a try sometime – working to earn money."

"The Lieutenant General refused to sign these on time so I had to take them," Riza piped up matter-of-factly, indicating the files spread out on the bed. Her chest rocked with a mute hiccup.

"I forgot," Roy emphasised. She didn't budge. So he leant forward, giving her a look that was a mixture of warning and pleading. Amusement shone in her eyes, something that almost immediately mellowed him, luring out what Ed couldn't have described as anything but affection.

Oh, for the love of—

"Just," rubbed his temple, "get back to your own room, creep."

"This isn't a bloody school trip, Fullmetal," Roy plainly remarked.

"It ain't your honeymoon either."

"You can start acting like the master of the house once you actually have the guts to propose," Roy gave back. It made a vein bulge on Ed's forehead.

"Look who's talking." His voice was still barely lowered, passing through gritted teeth. "I don't think you're in any position to talk when it comes to proposing." He crossed his arms defiantly, triumphantly.

Roy gave a short laugh. "Please, I proposed before you knew what a State Alchemist was," he proudly declared. Riza dropped her face into her palm, trying to disappear in it. Or to keep from shooting her idiot commanding officer.

At least it had been enough of a fuss to cure her hiccup.

"And we all know how that turned out then," Ed taunted, leaning against the door frame. He had almost forgotten about his own threat and at the same time fear that Olivier Armstrong could be marching down the hall any minute to slice them in half. No, he was too riled up by his fortunately, finally formal superior.

Roy remained unimpressed. "She said yes every single time I asked."

"General," Riza warned.

"What? You did." He pouted.

Oh, she wanted to strangle him rather than shoot him now. Ed could practically read it off her face.

Because had he left it at 'she' had said yes, it could have remained ambiguous (however obviously it was Hawkeye anyway). Like the silhouettes – obvious yet not proven. Now Roy had proven that it was Riza and Ed felt sorry for her – not for the first time since knowing the pair.

"Fullmetal isn't gonna rat us out." Roy was taking Riza's hands in his. "He likes you."

"Yeah, definitely not you though," Ed concurred.

"Same difference."

"You know what? Whatever." Ed threw his hands up. "I just wish you'd have the same respect for Hawkeye that she has for you, because you're endangering both of you unnecessarily. Goodnight." He didn't dare slam the door, but it was a close call.

Roy pulled a bit of a face. Sighing, he shook his head.

Riza wasn't looking – neither at him, nor to where Edward had just stood. She had taken her hands back the second he had enclosed them, but that didn't stop him from reaching out again. An eyelash, he mumbled, brushing the pad of his finger along her cheekbone. When she didn't retreat, he tenderly cupped her jaw.

"What are you doing?" Riza snapped. "He's right, we've become lenient," she harshly accused. At the same time, she surprised him by leaning into his touch.

"He won't call us out."

"I know that, but honestly, sir, you didn't have to tell him all that."

"I know, I'm sorry." Roy offered a wry smile. "Sometimes, I just feel as if I'm going to burst if I don't tell anyone." He leant in closer, the need to wind his arms around her becoming stronger.

"Still, it's a secret for a reason." She took his hand – not away, merely holding it over her cheek. Her breath warmly vented against his palm as she allowed a sigh. "This isn't a race we can participate in."

Roy frowned sadly. He had already known that, of course, but seeing the way her eyes overshadowed as she pronounced it redoubled his pain. She was everything to him – being prohibited to show the world as much hurt with every minute of every day.

Her fingers peeled around his. Gently, Riza plucked them off her cheek. Roy watched closely as her lips stamped his palm for a long, needy moment. Letting it sink – never letting it go – she stroked across the scar on the back of his hand. It was mesmerising.

"I meant what I said at the party earlier," she softly broke the silence. "You know that."

It was Roy's turn to give a sigh. "I do." He somehow escaped the trance that were her ministrations to hold her hand too, to reassuringly run his thumb over her knuckles, check her pulse in unspoken horror of that moment he had had to watch her nearly bleed to death.

"Then don't worry so much." Riza finally looked up. He gladly met her gaze. "Armstrong can't just reassign me, least of all now that you're the Hero of the Promised Day and she is still sort of a traitor on trial."

"They know she's not or else they wouldn't have let her keep her rank and troops."

"Sending her back North after the seat at the Fuhrer's table tells a different story."

"Still, it…" Roy fought to keep on speaking, "scared me. The way she talked to you. As if it had already been decided."

"It hasn't been and it won't be." Riza met his lips unexpectedly with her own. The hair in the back of his neck stood on end, a small tingle momentarily sending his insides upside down. "If I cannot stay by your side, there is no reason for me to remain in the military."

"We could start a family."

"What?" She recoiled. Roy cringed at his own words, but that didn't keep him from recapturing her hand that escaped in shock.

"I mean get married for real."

"General." Her stern voice returned. Stern, yet slightly shaken. An unprompted smile flashed across his lips. She was unfathomably adorable when taken aback. Even after all these years, even after having proposed on numerous occasions – all of which she had accepted – he could still surprise her with that stupidly romantic side of him.

"Pretend I said nothing." He leant in this time, pecking her lips. She closed her eyes when he then kissed her cheek, her forehead and finally the crown of her head. "Goodnight, my love."

Riza let out a breath. "Goodnight, sir." He smiled. "You still haven't completed the paperwork," she reminded, much to his dismay.

Or perhaps…

"Does that mean I get to stay here tonight?" He beamed, freezing halfway through standing up. Riza's eyes flashed up to his. Unyielding, strict, reprimanding. His smile grew exponentially. He knew how to read that look. It had been developed solely for him after all.

In one smooth swipe, Roy tumbled back onto the bed, arm flung around his Captain. Ignoring the paperwork. She yelped, clasping a hand over her mouth. Roy shuffled up to the headboard – where even from the window, no one could see a thing. With his free hand, he fumbled for the small box in the pocket of his trousers.

It was his favourite way to show her his love after all.