Hard to believe that this became an 80-thousand-word story. Thank you everyone for your support! I loved reading your reviews and still do.

Hope you enjoyed Under the Same Roof :)


Epilogue

With the door shut and the new neighbours settling down for the night, Riza found herself in silence, in the dark. She was grateful for the scratching of Hayate's paws on the wooden floorboards. It had always been quieter at Roy's place than in an apartment block, but a different kind of quiet. A comfortable, peaceful quiet.

Someone was listening to music below her. Merely the high notes faintly tickled her ears, muffled and choppy. In the flat across the hall, a family was eating dinner. The children jabbered, cutlery clinked. Cars passed by on the street far below. The elevator pinged before it rumbled downwards.

Riza sank onto her bed and slowly put her hands over her ears. Dropping onto her back, she used a pillow instead, leaving it over her face and ears. She inhaled, but Roy's scent was gone.

Hayate nudged her ankle.

"You're right," she said after a moment. It took another minute until she stood. "Dinner?"

Hayate wagged his tail, shadowing her into the kitchen area where she made him, then herself, something to eat.

Riza's eyes blurred as she stirred. The soup bubbled mellowly. The walls of the new flat were newer than in her old one – the man who had been dismissed without previous notice for refusing to pay his rent had smoked. Immediately, the landlady had had the stinking wallpapers torn down. Left was bare concrete, painted over once, white barely covering the grey.

Riza almost missed the yellowing walls of her old flat. The familiar creaking of the floorboards where they bulged with humidity in front of the bathroom, the door that wouldn't properly shut. It had been the place where Roy had slept over for the first time since their stationing in the East. The place where he had burned her back and where Hayate had found his forever home.

The single bed took some getting used to again. Ancient mattress aside, it was cold. For the first week, Riza found herself breaking irreparable boundaries by inviting Hayate up to sleep with her. With how much he turned and twitched in his dreams, her nights stayed as restless as they had been when trying to fall asleep alone.

In the second week, Riza surprised herself by missing visitors. Being with Roy was a privilege best enjoyed with just the two of them, but in her solitude after work, she was finding new appreciation for people dropping by – old drinking friends and informants, colleagues for a game night. She considered ordering food but then who would wipe the excess sauce off her spring rolls?

Two months later, Roy's hands had healed completely. The higher ups were busy squelching an uprising in Liore, all eyes on Central and their forces. The Elrics returned with news of an attempted hostage on the train.

Riza opened the floor-to-ceiling window of her bedroom. One couldn't call the curved banister a balcony, Riza's feet standing halfway outside, halfway on the frame of the window. Still, up there above the city, the lights in her back turned off, she felt she could breathe more freely. Being alone was good, the reasonable portion of her brain told her. Being alone was safe when Amestris was becoming more and more unstable.

She wasn't lonely, not really. She had Hayate, she had the team, she had Rebecca and she had Roy's eyes following her every step in the office. Perhaps it was time to meet up again. She could stop avoiding his frequented laundrette, walk a bit together until they parted ways for the night.

East City twinkled with streetlamps. Riza folded her arms over the banister and let out a long breath. She wanted to lay down her head when she noticed a movement. A neighbour was also on his minuscule balcony, a few storeys below her. Even just the top of his head, she recognised without a second glance.

He disappeared inside. Riza did the same. She shut the window, hands lingering on the handle. Hayate tilted his head questioningly. She glanced from him to the black sky and reopened the window. The balcony below remained empty. She went to her flat's door. The elevator pinged down the hall. A moment later, there was a soft knock.

A package of flour and a carton of milk on his arm, he raised his free hand in greeting. "Sorry to disturb you at this late hour."

She stepped aside to clear the way.

He wiped his shoes on the mat in front of the door. "I know tradition calls for a loaf of bread and salt when moving in. I thought maybe we could skip to neighbourly sharing." He presented the package of flour. From the corner of her eye, she watched him set it down on the counter while she prepared two cups of tea. His weight sinking into her rundown couch was music to her ears.

She sat next to him. Their cups steamed placidly, solemnly on the coffee table.

"Breda came back on the night he helped with the move." Roy didn't look up as he spoke.

His voice was so warm, Riza felt a shiver down her back – like stepping out of a freezing winter morning and into the hot shower. It was pure bliss that spread through her every limb, making her tingle. She picked up her tea and took a sip.

"Said he'd put enough money aside and recently gotten some from a deceased uncle or so. That he'd be ready to upgrade to a calmer, more secluded neighbourhood."

"He traded flats with you?"

"He did."

"He…" He must have known, it dawned on Riza. Havoc wouldn't tell, that much was certain. He'd give a hint without meaning to, but he'd never rat them out. But Breda was a tactician – he didn't need anyone to tell him. The game night must have been a dead giveaway. The pumpkin transmuted into a flower. And even without that, Breda must have spotted the absence of Roy's sour mood at the office.

He had traded the place far from the city centre and with a higher rent just so…

"Guess we'll be living under the same roof for a while longer, Lieutenant. Although my new place is a bit cramped. I might have to cook in a bigger kitchen from time to time." His eyes peered over the rim of his cup.

She followed his gaze, fingers itching to grab some eggs and use his neighbourly shared ingredients.

"They're good men."

"They are." Riza smiled into her tea. "They're good friends indeed."