The Amestrian military was abuzz with anticipation; with the repeal of anti-fraternization laws, officers in every department were awaiting the famously close duo to disclose their relationship to personnel. While relations between ranks were still discouraged, ultimately, cases would be assessed individually. And assess they did.

"I'll bet my life savings that they've been together for years!"

"They're so unprofessional, flaunting their relationship here."

"It's so sad that they had to wait this long to be together."

"Do you think she put her grandfather up to it so she could lock down the General?"

You'd think they were snipers with how focused they were on her.

Riza's jaw clenched in annoyance as she continued with her duties. She and her superior had been the subject of many conversations as of late. Ever since Fuhrer Grumman made his announcement, the rumour mill flourished in her honour. Due to her untraditionally close relationship with the General, the 'true nature' of their relationship had become a trending topic at Central Headquarters, all thanks to her loving grandfather.

She wanted to personally roll her eyes at everyone spreading these 'previously star crossed' or 'clandestine lovers' narratives. In reality, these theories couldn't be further from the truth. While she could decipher everything Mustang wanted to say by just the rate of his breath or even the slightest twitch, his private life? All she had to go on for that was lunchroom gossip and his afternoon ramblings.

Although their lives had been intertwined since their youth, contact outside of a professional context was now minimal by her design. There was too much at stake to be giving into selfish desire. She had no interest in creating emotional problems between herself and Mustang. Their professional relationship was easy and comfortable. She had no interest in his private life.

Besides, why would she want to know what sort of debauchery he got up to when she wasn't around? From the little information she does have, Roy's lived quite the life outside of the office. He's a successful, attractive bachelor living in a major city, after all. She figured there's no shortage of women flinging themselves into his more than welcoming arms.

Riza's shoulders slumped over the open cabinet in front of her, hands gripping its metal frame. She lazily skimmed through the files in front of her over and over again, focused more on the action than actually finding her intended document. She was tired; the constant restraint, having to work twice as hard to be where she is, and the recent scrutiny of her character was exhausting. Everywhere she went, people watched her as if to silently ask if she's fucked her boss today. She gripped the metal harder, jaw locked with frustration. Riza took a breath and composed herself. She was not going to let pettiness distract her from doing her job. With her document finally in hand, the officer walked out into the hallway.

"They're just bored with their own lives, Lieutenant Colonel," Havoc said. "Don't let them get to you."

"Thanks, Havoc," she said, appreciating the support.

He smiled back; he understood how demeaning it was to have the whole military talk about you as if you weren't there. He felt that when he came back to work after Dr. Marcoh restored his ability to walk.

"What are you doing out here anyway? Don't you have a meeting in 10 minutes?"

Havoc looked away, flushing a bit. "I'm just on my way to return Rebecca's pen, I won't be late," he said.

Riza nodded her head with amusement. They had been flirting casually for years. 'I suppose the policy change isn't bad for everyone,' she smiled. "Don't be too long, Captain," she said, heading back to the office.

Roy Mustang stood at the entrance of Central Headquarters, irritated by the still bright sky. It was past 6 in the evening and the sun was still going strong. He brought his hand up to block the light from his eyes as he stood there patiently. 'There's nothing wrong just standing here,' he thought, casually waiting for a certain Lieutenant Colonel.

"You're still here, sir?" a familiar voice asks from behind.

'Speak of the devil.' He smirked at the sound of his favourite subordinate's voice, only for it to drop as he sees she's not alone.

"Yeah, you're usually the first one home, sir," Havoc said.

"I was just on my way," Roy said. He paused, eyeing the two officers in front of him. "Do you two usually leave together?" Roy asked.

Havoc and Hawkeye looked at each other. "We were just at target practice, sir," Jean explained.

He nodded. "Right," he said, shifting his gaze. "Well, Lieutenant Colonel, would you like a ride home?"

She shook her head. "I'm only a few blocks away, but thank you, General."

"What about me, General? Can I hitch a ride?" Havoc said expectantly.

"I only offer rides to pretty women," he teased.

Riza rolled her eyes. "Well, I'll be on my way. Have a good night, sir," she said. The two officers saluted him and started walking away together. Roy scowled; he didn't like the look of her walking away with another man. He sighed as he watched them turn the corner and out of sight. He walked to his car with his head hung and posture uncharacteristically bent as he started driving home.

Mustang hung his coat and drudged his way in, loosening the collar of his uniform as he sprawled out on the sofa. His stomach growled but he ignored it; his subordinate was occupying too much of his mental capacity to want food. He ran the interaction back, wondering if she displayed any evidence of being displeased with him. She rolled her eyes at him but that's normal. What wasn't normal, however, was her leaving work with Havoc. He didn't notice anything in their interaction that indicated much closeness between them, but the thought vexed his mind regardless.

He looked up at the textured ceiling and tried to focus on how many specks there were. '21, 22, 23, 24… Hawkeye has been distant lately… 25, 26, 27…' Roy groaned, unable to stop the thought from squirming its way into his brain like a worm trained in psychological torture. He brought his hands to his temples and started massaging them to release pressure. The thought of them together, however irrational, made his whole body clench. There was nothing that churned his stomach more than the idea of her with another man… for safety reasons, of course. He couldn't have her distracted in the field.

The General extended his arm out to the ceiling and looked at his hand, scarred from that day. He remembered the look on her face when she thought he was dead. She was so defeated; it was as if she had nothing else to live for. That thought made him particularly sad. Theirs was not a relationship based on frequent heart to hearts — they just didn't talk much about their personal lives (at least, she didn't), but Roy hoped she had joy in her life. He recalled how iridescent her smile was before the war. While infrequent, they did share moments of true happiness back in that small town.

He even found himself wondering what kind of life she would have had if she stayed in her hometown; she probably would have been married by now, with a kid or two, he surmised. He visualized her long hair tied up messily, strands of blonde spilling onto her face as she held an infant in her arms. In his mind, the baby had black hair and eyes like his. The thought put a smile on his face as he brought a cushion to his chest and gripped it tightly.

'It's nice to have dreams,' he thought. 'Maybe one day, she'll help me with this one.'