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Thanks, Munya, for the reminder ;) Would love to hear what you think.

Enjoy!

Chapter 28 - Days 232-248

Roy sighed more than he breathed on his way up the stairs. Like a cat purring, he tried to calm himself with long exhales. Everything was fine. It was fine.

She lied on the bed. Her head was sliding off the pillows he had propped up. Too warm before, she now had pulled the blanket up higher, then too high, but not had the strength to lean over or kick her legs to get it back down. He used his own blanket to cover her feet.

Riza opened one eye, then the other. Her face was flushed and glistened with sweat.

"I'm so sorry."

He shook his head. Brows creased, Roy placed a long, hard kiss on her forehead. "You have nothing to blame yourself for. We now know that contractions come at intervals and cramps don't. No breaks in between means no labour."

"But he said…" She had to pause to catch her breath despite lying flat on her back. "… that those cramps can lead to premature birth."

"Stress might, not cramps." Roy tenderly pushed her hair back, freeing her forehead. She smiled weakly when the hair fell back and he had to repeat the action twice, three, four times. Leaving his fingers woven into her hair, he massaged her scalp. "We need to be more careful. Given our history, we're like reservoirs of stress, ready to burst with any small amount of additional strain. If it weren't so much work, I'd consider moving again – away from break-in memories…"

"You didn't do very much of that work."

"Exactly! You wouldn't let me, damnit."

"I'm only teasing you."

"Well, I'm not." Retracting his hand, Roy buried it in his own hair.

Her head drooped more than it turned to him, the way a rusty pendulum inside an ancient grandfather clock would. "That won't stop me from teasing you." She smiled past her exhaustion. Roy's forehead wrinkled sorrily. Her hand reaching for his, he didn't accept it so much as he looted it, guarded it in his lap, caressing it with both hands. Not slack, not unconscious or worse. As if to underline that point, she gave a squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere. Neither is the baby. I might not have a choice anymore, but I want to have this baby."

Roy's eyes widened. His lungs stilled.

She wasn't looking. She was smiling though, shyly, secretly. "I'm still scared of labour and the pain that comes with it, but I want to hold it. I want to meet it. I want it not to be 'it' anymore but a person, find out what she's like, what she chooses in life, what little things I can do every day to bring her joy, what her favourite food will be, if she likes flowers or running, if she's ticklish.

"I want to know what you'll be like." Her thumb circled in his palm. "If you'll let your daughter go on dates or if you'll teach your son the ways of a gentleman. If you'll play them that one song you know how to play on the piano."

"Riza," Roy sobbed. She opened her mouth, surprised. She shouldn't be; she knew he was a wreck whenever she was closing in on motherly feelings. He hid his eyes in his hand.

She slid her hand beneath his to rub his eyes more carefully than he did. All he did was squish them with the heel of his thumb, his eyes and his nose, the runny traitor.

Fighting to sit up, Riza hugged him from the side. "You're just as much a reservoir as I am. If you'd feel better living in a different house, we can move. I'll take it more slowly this time."

"No." He held her arms crossing over his chest. "I just thought you'd feel more comfortable elsewhere after the Lieutenant Colonel broke in twice."

"What happened to him?"

"Who knows?" Roy sighed. It wasn't a sigh as deep as before; not as needy. He hooked his chin onto her upper arm. Downy hairs were rising against the cold outside of the blanket haven. He smoothed them down with his cheek. "Maybe we should invite your grandpa over. He's more candid with you."

"He can't just drop the frat laws. I wouldn't want him to – they protect women in the military."

They hadn't heard from Grumman about the solution he was inventing, not in three weeks.

Was it going to be drastic? Was he going to tear them apart? Construct a master plan to hide Roy's fatherhood? Steal legal custody over the child for as long as he lived? Could he do that – take away and bequest guardianship? And to someone who wasn't his kin?

"I started a diary."

"What?" Roy blinked his blurring vision clear. It was late. His eyes were irritated with exhaustion.

"A diary. For milestones or special events during pregnancy. It's not much, given that not much is happening – not many positive things anyway," she grumbled. "But I thought we could… continue it afterwards. The first laugh, the first tooth, the first reaction to mini-skirts."

Roy snorted. It tore at his sore throat and he coughed which made her laugh in turn. His shoulders shook in her embrace, but she wouldn't let go. Vibrating, twitching from stifled coughs and chuckles, Roy dropped sideways. She let him, releasing him only to scoot back and make space.

His stomach rumbled.

"You skipped lunch to come home early, didn't you?"

"What gave it away?" Another howl, like a train in a tunnel. She rubbed his belly the way she would rub Hayate's. "Where is it?"

"Lunch?"

"The diary."

"Oh." Riza drew herself up on her elbow. Roy waited for her to have reached over him, into the drawer of the nightstand and back, before mimicking her position, propped up on his front. "Here," she opened the notebook, "I left the whole Pilatus thing out…"

"Of course," he said, fading. Tired eyes became eager, flickering across the words. At work, she would use the typewriter. He found he had missed her handwriting, neat and painfully small. First Kick, one heading read, First Perceptible Heartbeat read another. Roy's chest fluttered excitedly when he found the words First Time Roy Touched Belly.

Riza scowled when he laughed. "Not exactly the kind of reaction I was expecting."

Succumbing to snickers, quivering, trying to hold them in – he really was trying – Roy let the diary glide out of his hands. She punched his arm when he wheezed and grunted, so he covered his mouth. It didn't help.

"These are…" Roy gasped for breath. "Riza, my love, these— they don't read any different from your reports."

"Yes." She put a hand on her hip, elbow pointing up at the ceiling. "What about it?"

"Where's the emotion?" Roy laughed. He had tears in his eyes merely remembering the first time he had been allowed to touch her belly – wordlessly, silenced into awe, going down on his knees, one by one, the shower running hot, her skin pulsing, her breath hitching, his fingers tingling. Now tears of laughter sprung to his eyes. "It's like a post‑mortem report."

"It's accurate. And stupid anyway." Pouty, she took the diary away.

"No, no." Roy fetched it back. "Okay, how about this: you keep that up and I'll help you make it come to life. A shared project."

"You'll only make up wild dramatic fantasies."

"I'll make it poetic."

"… why did you say it like that?"

"Here—" He grabbed a pen from the nightstand. A pencil, chewed on by human and dog teeth alike, the rubber at the tip missing. She had used a fountain pen, making his writing contrast hers visually.

Substantially too.

Riza cringed. "That isn't even wild, it's impossibly cheesy. Tone it down."

But he wouldn't tone it down. He had never been into writing anything more than now, not since that essay on alloys he had helped her write for school when studying under her father.

Riza rolled her eyes. She groaned whenever he added more adjectives, padded the straight-forward actions with gushing emotion. Her name flowed from his pencil and the word cute, and so she crawled across Roy's back, fetching her fountain pen. He readily moved aside to give her room, but letting go was out of the question. It became a squabble, Roy haste-writing more and more and more and Riza striking words, eliminating phrases, replacing them with 'accuracy'.

With both of them using their right hands and Roy on the left side of the diary, he was much more efficient – efficient in blocking her view until he had finished his sentence. The spread became a wimmelpicture. Words squeezed in sideways, upside down, vertically, graphite and ink simmering in the dim light on the nightstand.

Riza took over when he had run out of space. Resting his head in his hand, Roy watched her. Other people stuck out their tongues when focused. Riza sucked in the corner of her lip, biting it with the tiny chiselling motions of a guinea pig munching lettuce. His hand released the pencil. It found her back, traced her spine through and then under her sweater.

Half lying on her side, unable to fall onto her front – it must have irked her. But Riza showed no sign of irritation, at least none that wasn't owed to Roy's drivel. The wrinkle of her nose told him how she wanted to roll her eyes had they not been skimming and spying and fixating.

When her torso sagged beneath his touch, Roy got up. It gave her room to take the diary closer or leave it for a moment, pondering on words, resting her body properly. He had only just finished cooking dinner when she had apparently ceased resting, following him to the kitchen.

He brought everything to the living room. The table was back in order. Nothing hinted at the latest intrusion but Roy would take no risks. Anything could trigger cramps. Anything he could avoid, he would.

"I'm off tomorrow," he told her after having eaten. Missing lunch had left a hole in his stomach. Riza wasn't hungry, she said, having curled up with her head on his lap. Spoilt appetite, he speculated. "I told Havoc to hand in a leave of absence for me. Then we'll have plenty of time to come up with relaxation routines."

"Jean is coming?" She sounded terribly tired but at the same time happy.

Roy smiled sorrily. "He was. You were asleep after that ordeal; when Thomas was here. I didn't want to wake you." Her sigh didn't go unnoticed. His smile softened. "He looked eager to be back though. I'm sure he'll drop by this week."

Riza nodded. He massaged her temple, gently, first one, then the other. Circles, mellow yet firm, lines that extended past her hairline, turning into scratches on her scalp. Riza craned her neck just a little, reminding him of Hayate – subtly giving directions.

A relaxation as good as it could get, Roy thought.

So he picked her up and carried her down the hall. Riza frowned when he didn't take the stairs. She looked around, finding herself in the guest room. He climbed onto the mattress on the floor. There was a blanket in need of washing – perfect.

"What are you—"

"Up!" Roy patted his knees. Riza drew a breath to protest. Two wet noses counteracted any complaints, immediately taking Roy's offer, trotting up onto the mattress with no hints of guilt whatsoever. Roy guided Riza to lie down with him, under the blanket that needed washing and in their day clothes and two fur balls wagging and panting and scraping until finding the perfect spot to sleep as closely to Riza as possible.

"I hope you were going to buy a new mattress anyway."

"I am now." Roy grinned.

She gave him a look. The tension of her muscles had wilted though, her frown dissipating quickly. Roy kissed between her brows. She nestled into his chest, lulled by the steady breathing of Hayate and Sally. When Roy finally drifted off too, it was Riza's voice he heard from earlier, humming a nursery rhyme to herself.

Riza only took a sip of tea. A sigh was bubbling in her throat, begged to be let out. Judging by Rebecca's raised brow, she knew.

Riza replaced the cup on its saucer. "I'm alright. Sitting is good."

"Swollen ankles?"

"I wish." Riza shook her head. She ran a hand down her belly. "I haven't even seen my ankles in months. It's gotten so heavy, I feel like 'pregnant' is my only remaining character trait."

Rebecca snickered. "Imagine you had twins – double the weight."

At those words, Riza's eyes promptly doubled in size.

"I mean— I didn't mean you did, uh, do. You're not. You're fine. Looks all perfectly singular to me."

"You're just saying that."

"As someone who volunteered for a midwife in her teens, I can assure you I'm not." Rebecca covered her heart with her palm as if pledging an oath. "Honestly, you'd know if it were twins. And you had a doctor have a look, right?"

Riza hummed positive. "I read books too. And Roy has a sister who had a baby – he'd know."

"He's really taking his time walking the dogs, huh?"

"He better." Riza narrowed her eyes. Another sigh was building up though, and there was no way to hide it from Rebecca. Riza's mumbled more than she spoke, "He's only got one thing on his mind these days. I'm frankly getting a bit tired of it."

"These days?" It were Rebecca's eyes that bloated this time, her mouth a perfect 'o'. "You mean… daily?"

"Hourly if it were up to him. By this point, I'm mostly enduring."

"Enduring?"

"Blocking it out." Riza shrugged. "Continuing what I'm doing as much as possible with his, you know… being in the way."

"Should I be concerned?" Rebecca leant out, cautiously apprehensive.

Riza picked up her tea. She was by far too much on an even keel despite her revelation. "I know I am – concerned. It's not healthy anymore. He's obsessed. Addicted."

"I mean you, sweetie. I was convinced that you of all people wouldn't just… let him have his way." And she had been. She was, she really… No, Rebecca didn't doubt Riza's strength. Perhaps she was secretly enjoying it, pretending to be annoyed to hide whatever kink she had developed. It had worked with the filthy novel. Then again, this was Mustang, her everything. Would she… endure, as she said?

Riza emptied her cup and replaced it on the coffee table. "He does have a certain right to it." She didn't meet Rebecca's incredulous ogling as she continued. "I'd just prefer if it wasn't the first thing I'd wake up to in the morning after already falling asleep with his hands 'in place'. Both of them."

Rebecca coughed. "Both? Good lord. Hey, on another note, this pregnancy is really opening you up to be more, well, open. I'm actually a little shocked you're telling me all of this." And about a respected superior officer no less. Rebecca still had to see him at work!

"It's not like I can keep it a secret— Oh, here he comes…"

The front door opened. Hayate was in the living room within a second, wagging his way into the space between the couch and coffee table, snuffing his face into Riza's palms. Sally entered more quietly, rounding the couch – avoiding the guest – and claiming Riza's other side. She liked rubbing her face in the crook of Riza's knee, hiding away.

Riza crossed her legs. Rebecca's eyes widened. He wouldn't do it there and now, would he?

"I see we have company." Roy strut into the living room. He brought a chill with him despite having taken off his coat, his hair smelling of snow. "Hello, my love." He leant over the back of the couch.

Riza's hand beside her indicated to Rebecca with her fingers folding in: Three… Two… One… Aaand his hands travelled down Riza's body. He kissed her cheek, touching her—

Belly.

"And how is he today?" Roy's voice was a tad too ridiculous for Rebecca. As if already talking to the baby or one of the dogs. His smile was something to behold too, bright and goofy and not at all what she imagined a General to look like.

In contrary, Riza's tone was flat. "The same as this morning."

He was touching her belly. He touched her belly. When she fell asleep, when she woke up. Rebecca let out something in between of a cuss and a laugh. Roy frowned but not for long, kissing Riza's crown, thumb circling greedily over her navel one final time before straightening, then the final final time, seemingly waiting and Rebecca realised he was waiting for a reply.

"Don't wake Radicchio. It's my first twenty minutes of peace today."

"Sorry." Roy grinned. Wistfully, he let go.

Rebecca looked from one to the other. "Radicchio?"

"Until we know the gender."

"Makes her crave radicchio lately. Second one's gonna be Fennel."

"Dream on," Riza dryly said.

Roy kept grinning. "I am – when will you?"

"Omigod, speaking of dreams," Rebecca slapped the armrest of the couch, "I cannot believe the old man slept here in your house when I haven't."

"This again…" Havoc joined them with biscuits fresh from the oven. Warmth and sweetness wafted through the kitchen and into the hall, filling their noses when he set down the plate. Riza shared a grateful glance with him as he sat down next to Rebecca. Getting up was becoming a pain, standing around to watch over her baked goods even more so.

Roy rounded Riza's couch to grab a biscuit. He was so used to Havoc appearing at home by now, he hardly raised his hand in greeting. "I can't believe the 'old man' slept in my house either…"

"Jean," Rebecca slapped Havoc's thigh next, "we're staying the night."

Riza tutted. "Thanks for asking."

"You wanna experience the horrendous backaches of either of these couches?" Havoc chuckled. He was still joking.

Rebecca was not. "If you help me relax again." Her lips puckered, grip tightening on his thigh. He rawred and she giggled, clearly over her previous embarrassment at his antics.

Roy sank down next to Riza. "Do I want to know?"

"Someone just invited themselves for a sleepover. Again."

"Ah." He got up, turned back for a couple of biscuits (to weather the journey, as he called it), and made for the bedroom to get fresh sheets. One of them would have to put up with sleeping on Riza's old mattress, squeeze in on the new guest mattress, or chance backaches on a couch.

He was followed soon. First by the dogs – rustling piqued Hayate's interest without fail, and Sally went wherever he went. This also meant that Riza wasn't far behind. She showed Rebecca the nursery and bathroom. Havoc knocked on the jamb of the bedroom, bringing two pillows to have a cover put on. Shielding his ears from adoring squeals, Roy soon found out, when Rebecca inspected the nursery. It was worse in the bathroom.

"What are you even doing in any other room ever," Rebecca yelled more than she asked, "when there's a gorgeous two-seat shower up here?! What kind of a shower has two seats? Shoot me now!"

Riza was just as collected as she had been downstairs. She was used to her friend's heart attacks. That, and she had internalised the routines she and Roy had established to find relaxation over the past weeks. "The previous owner designed it to be some sort of steam sauna, but we'd have to fill a separate tank for the steam and—"

"I'll do it!"

"You are not having sex in my shower."

"Why nooot?" Rebecca whined. "It's like, the hottest thing out there. Literally."

"It's a slipping hazard promising injury."

Havoc's ears pricked. He snickered quietly, nudging Roy. "Sounds like fun, getting a safety briefing before doing the nasty."

"Tell me about it." Roy tossed a pillow back at him. Doing the blanket next, he used it to conceal a fond smile. What an odd set of friends they were. Hughes would have been proud. Where there had been a pang to the guts before when remembering his late friend, Roy now felt encouraged – encouraged to trust, to kid around. He wore his blush with pride. "I think I'm the only non-gynaecologist man in the country who can recite all 36 possible side effects of the pill."

"You're joking."

"We read them together back then. It was important to her."