"I'm fine," Mustang tried to assure his lieutenant. "Looks like… it's starting to rain."
Riza looked up at the sky, confused. "But…it's not raining," she pointed out, unnecessarily. The day was bright and sunny. What a terrible contrast. It should have been raining. It should have been dark and dismal and dreary, but the sun shone, as if mocking them, mocking their pain and grief.
"Yes it is," Roy argued, putting on his hat. "This is rain." He turned slightly towards her, and now Riza could see tears falling from his cheeks.
"Yes sir." They stood in silence for a long while. Riza couldn't deny that she was worried about him.
Their relationship was far from normal. She was his subordinate; she worked under him, but there was so much more to them than that.
They'd been childhood sweethearts of a sort, when he had lived and studied at her father's home. She'd been only a girl, he'd barely become a man, but they had shared something truly special in those few short years. He had broken her heart when he'd left, had taken a part of her with him, literally and representatively. She'd loved and trusted in him enough to give him the secrets to flame alchemy that her father so fiercely protected. She'd loved and trusted him enough that she'd joined the military, believing the idealistic dreams with which he had filled her head.
During Ishbal, they'd met again. She'd saved his life. They'd both killed countless others. It had changed them both so monumentally that at first they didn't recognize one another. She was no longer a half-child and half-woman. He was no longer an upstanding and impressive man. They had both grown up more quickly than any human being should have to, had both witnessed more than any soul should have to endure.
When they found each other in Ishbal, it didn't need to be said. They were there for each other. Comfort, warmth, company. They were one another's only icy solace in a world of burning hell.
Afterwards, they'd parted again for a time (but not before she'd forced him to burn the secrets to flame alchemy tattooed on her back). They'd been apart for just over a year. She knew he'd tried to commit suicide during that time period. She'd contemplated it herself.
She'd moved to Central, naively hoping that they might pursue a relationship, and somewhat to her surprise, they had. He'd let her into the secret, the plan he and Hughes were orchestrating to take over the military and root out corruption, to bring the perpetrators of Ishbal to justice.
Riza hadn't been able to let go of her demons, hadn't been able to sit back demurely as a supporter and not a participator in the plan. She'd maintained her position in the military, ending their romantic relationship to comply with anti-fraternization regulations. Roy had been hurt and furious, his anger fueled by his own demons.
Things had changed again, four years ago, at the Hughes' wedding. Roy and Riza had come together in a drunken rush, all the feelings they'd been hiding pouring out with the alcohol. Being apart, they'd realized, was worse than being together. The anti-fraternization regulations would keep them from pursuing a romance, but they could work together to accomplish their goals. Someday, maybe, things might change.
Since then, Riza had served her commander faithfully and dutifully, moving with him to the East. They were close friends. They saw each other outside the office regularly, but they both knew that there could be nothing more between them. Her larger responsibility to guard his back, to keep him on the right path, helped prevent her from wanting what she could not have.
This wasn't to say that there hadn't been moments of weakness on both of their parts. His hand would brush hers ever so slightly as he handed her a folder; a bouquet of flowers would appear outside her front door, no note or card; rarely, they would steal a gentle kiss as he walked her home in the black of night.
Riza knew that Roy needed her now. Maes had been his best friend, his biggest supporter. They'd practically been brothers. She knew that Roy didn't handle pain or grief in normal or healthy ways, and she honestly feared for his life. What he's just said about human transmutation… she didn't even want to consider it. Would he actually try it? Would he really risk everything to try to bring his friend back? Surely not, but then, what would she do if Roy was the one who had perished? Riza shivered, pulling her military jacket closer around her.
What will I do now, if he decides to choose that path? If vengeance consumes his soul, what might I have to do?
"Let's get back," she said softly, pushing the darker thoughts aside. "It's getting cold out here." When Roy didn't respond, she took a step forward and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Colonel?"
"I'm fine," Roy said again, though she could now clearly hear that he was struggling to hold back powerful tears. Tracks of tears ran freely down his cheeks. He shook his head furiously, as if this would help him regain control. "Let's get out of here," he said. "I need to… to not be here right now."
Riza nodded and took his arm, leading him away from the gravesite.
By the time they reached the hotel where they were both staying, Roy had mastered himself. He'd forced back his emotions as usual, and Riza could tell that he was slightly ashamed of himself for letting her see him in a moment of weakness.
They reached the door to her hotel room, and both paused.
"Sir," Riza said cautiously, "would you like to come in?" She didn't really expect him to accept, but at the same time, she felt that he needed human company right now, just as much as he needed air.
Roy hesitated.
"Okay," he said after a moment. Riza smiled slightly as she opened the door to her small suite. There was a tiny sitting room, a bathroom, and a bedroom in the back. Roy sat heavily in an upholstered chair in the sitting room, and Riza bent, rummaging for a moment in a cabinet before she came up with two glasses and two bottles of liquor.
Roy managed a weak smile.
Several hours later, Roy was very drunk. Riza was only slightly tipsy herself, but she hadn't had nearly as much to drink. Then again, perhaps she didn't need it as much as Roy did.
"He was my best friend," Roy said softly, startling her. They'd spoken surprisingly little. The subjects of work, Ishbal, and Maes had been studiously avoided. Now, though, it seemed that Roy was ready to talk. As always, Riza was there for him, ready to listen.
"I really loved him," Roy admitted, his voice only a little slurred despite the amount of alcohol he had consumed. "You know," he said, glancing at Riza, "he really liked you a lot. He always said that I should find myself a wife, and a lot of the time he suggested that you should be my wife. Did you know that?"
"No, sir," Riza said softly, refusing to allow her own pain over this particular topic to interfere. The idea of being married to Roy… was probably her dearest dream, apart from seeing him rise to the position of fuehrer. Maes had done what he could to help them after they stopped seeing each other those years ago. Initially he'd been furious with Riza, but he'd agreed to help her, including her in their burgeoning network of clandestine operatives once she started working at Central Command under another officer.
"Well, I always told him to shut up and get a life," Roy said. He grinned suddenly. "He told me to get a wife, and I told him to get a life. But he was the one who had the wife, which was the better life, but now he doesn't have any life. Isn't that ironic?"
"I suppose so, sir," Riza said softly. Roy leaned closer to her.
"I bought you a ring, back then. I thought I was gonna marry you. I really wish I'd been able to keep you." He reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "I never deserved you."
"Sir, this conversation isn't really appropriate," she said softly. She prayed that she'd had enough alcohol that she wouldn't remember this in the morning. It was too much.
"Stop calling me 'sir'," Roy demanded suddenly. "I don't want you to be Lieutenant Hawkeye tonight. I just want you to be Riza, and I just want to be Roy. Is that okay?"
He looked so sad, so helpless and lost. She would have given him anything in that moment.
"Of course it is," she responded softly. He had leaned so close to her that he was now only inches away.
"I need you tonight," Roy said softly. "I need you here, and you're here for me. That means so much." He cupped her cheek in his hand. Riza closed her eyes against the sudden tears she felt stinging against her eyelids. His hand remained on her cheek, the skin soft from all the years of wearing his gloves.
"I'll always be here for you, Roy," Riza said softly. "Whatever you need, I'm here. You know that."
"I think," Roy said softly, moving to place a soft kiss on her cheek, "that I need all of you tonight." Riza moved her face to catch his lips, and he suddenly seemed to explode, kissing her hungrily, fiercely.
His tongue forced its way roughly inside her mouth, his hands burrowed into her hair, pulling her closer as if he would swallow her whole. Riza was a bit surprised at his roughness, but she decided instantly that she didn't mind. If this was what he needed, then she would give it. She would give up her very life for him in an instant.
When Roy woke the next morning, the first thing that he was aware of was a certain pounding in his head that he associated with copious amounts of whiskey.
The second was that Maes was dead.
This awareness made his head pound even worse. He groaned and lay back against the silky hotel sheets. It was then that he realized he didn't remember going back to his room the night before. He sat straight up in the bed as he remembered.
Riza's lips on his, his hands exploring her body; Riza, moaning beneath him as he took her body; Riza, holding and comforting him as he cried himself to sleep…
Roy looked around the room, wondering where she had gone. He couldn't believe what an idiot he'd been. He'd lost it, completely lost control of his senses. He truly felt like the selfish bastard that Fullmetal always accused him of being. The fact that she wasn't in bed with him this morning was proof enough that he'd fucked up. Big time.
He groaned again, his head spinning as he got out of bed. He quickly found his boxers and undershirt and put them on. He wasn't sure where the rest of his clothes were. Riza's had already been picked up off the floor.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Riza stepped out, wearing only a towel. She looked surprised to see him awake.
"Good morning, sir," she said softly.
"Hi," Roy responded dully.
Riza walked to her suitcase and began pulling out her clothes for the day.
"You're up plenty early. It's only a little after five and our train doesn't leave until twenty after ten, so you've got time to pack. There's some aspirin in my case in the bathroom if you need it," Riza said all of this rather quickly. Roy sighed.
"So, we're just going to act like this didn't happen?" He asked, not angrily or unkindly. "We're just going to go on with our lives as if this was all just a dream?"
"I-I think that would be best, sir," Riza said softly, turning to face him.
When she turned, Roy suddenly noticed the bruise on the left side of her neck.
"What the hell-?" He crossed the room, reaching her in two strides. He held her face between his hands, lifting it so he could examine the damage. It wasn't a bruise so much as it was a hickey the size of Armstrong's muscles. It trailed down the side of her neck, purplish, discoloring her porcelain skin. Roy followed it with his eyes, and then he noticed another bruise, barely visible underneath the edge of her towel. Without thinking, Roy grabbed the towel and ripped it from her.
Her left breast was entirely enveloped in a bruise. Roy raised his right hand as if testing it against the size and shape of the wound.
"I did this?" he said softly, his eyes moving up to meet hers. Riza met his gaze unflinchingly. There was a hint of defiance in her eyes, a spark that guaranteed she wouldn't accept sympathy from him. She stood before him, naked, proud, bruised, broken.
"Is there more?" Roy demanded. He wanted to know every detail of what he'd done to her. He remembered the sex, but… he didn't remember beating her in the process. He knew it hadn't exactly been their gentlest or most tender lovemaking experience, but he was shocked to see that he'd actually bruised her.
Riza nodded, letting him see the bite mark on her side and the fingerprints on her thighs.
"I… I don't know what to say," Roy said softly.
"You don't have to say anything," Riza replied, a slight bite to her voice.
"I'm so sorr-."
"Don't you dare!" She cut across him. "Don't you dare apologize for this. If I hadn't wanted it, if I had wanted you to stop, I would have made you stop. I'm not helpless. I had a gun within reach, just like I always do. You asked me if it was alright, and I said yes, so you don't get to apologize! I said I'd be there for you, and I was there. I did what you needed me to do. You don't get to be sorry for that!"
Roy was taken aback at her anger. She should be angry, furious even, but she shouldn't be angry with him for apologizing. She should want him to beg for mercy at her feet, but here she was, yelling at him... for apologizing.
Riza slammed her suitcase shut, grabbing her clothes and starting to dress quickly.
"What do you want me to do, Riza?" Roy asked softly. "What do you want me to say?" She turned her head to glare at him once she'd pulled her t-shirt over her head, then stopped and sighed. He was sad. He looked lost and lonely.
"You don't have to say anything," she replied, shrugging on her uniform jacket. "Last night wasn't about me or us; it was about your grief. You needed an outlet for your grief, and I provided. I mean," She smiled ruefully, "it wasn't exactly the gentlest fuck we've ever had, but-."
Now, it was Roy's turn to be angry.
"Don't you ever say that again," he snapped, cutting her off. Riza looked up at him, confused. He took another step closer to her and suddenly pulled her into his arms. "It's not…" he struggled to find the right words. "With you, it's never just fucking. I don't want you to ever even think that. It's more than that. Because it's you, it's so much more."
She looked up at him and her eyes were filled with sudden tears. She knew what he was trying to say. When they were together, it was making love.
Roy leaned forward and kissed her softly, tenderly. For a moment, he allowed himself to forget that they couldn't be together. For a moment, he pretended that they were a normal couple, having a normal fight, making up like normal people. Riza opened her mouth to him, and he let his tongue slide inside, gently prodding and exploring the territory he'd once known so well. Finally, the kiss ended, and they pulled away, both breathing a bit heavily.
"Are we okay?" Roy asked softly, leaning his forehead against hers. Riza nodded.
"Nothing's changed really," she said.
"I wish…," Roy started, but then trailed off. He didn't need to say that he wished things were different, didn't need to say that he wanted her in his life as more than his subordinate, more, even, than his girlfriend. He wanted her to be his partner in everything, wanted to be able to come home to her every night, to take her to bed and love her the way she deserved to be loved: as if she was special and precious. She was so special and so precious to him. He didn't need to say these things, because she already knew.
Riza smiled slightly.
"We'll leave for the station around nine-thirty, sir," she said, easily falling back into the position of bodyguard and aide.
Roy nodded.
"I'm going to get changed and visit Gracia and Elysia before we leave," he said softly.
"Yes, sir," Riza said. "I sent your uniform to be washed, but I brought you a spare. It's in the wardrobe there."
Roy grimaced slightly at the awkwardness of this, but refused to acknowledge it. He merely nodded his thanks, gathered his clothes, and left.
After visiting Hughes' wife and daughter, Roy made a rapid decision not to return to East Headquarters.
"Sir?" Riza questioned when she heard his decision.
"I'm going to find out who did this. I won't leave Central until I know," Roy said, his voice hard, stubborn. Riza understood.
"Yes, sir."
They conducted their investigation as quietly as possible, even returning to the scene of the crime. All of their leads ultimately turned up empty, leaving them even more confused than they had been when they started. After talking to Armstrong, though, Roy was convinced that the murder of his dearest friend had not been a random act of violence. He and Riza stood together in the dark alley, watching Armstrong's massive retreating back.
"I'm not just going to let this die," Roy said, his voice soft and deadly. Riza could see the wild intensity in his eyes. "Soon I will be transferred to Central."
Riza tried to keep the surprise and hurt out of her voice.
"Oh. Congratulations," she said. She prayed he would take her with him. She wasn't sure that she could go on day to day without him nearby. She needed to protect him.
"This is a perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. I will get to the bottom of what's going on in military command and find out who killed Hughes. No matter what."
Riza felt herself grow concerned. The intensity of his words and eyes unnerved her somehow.
"It's… not like you to mix your personal feelings with business," she said, ignoring the irony of this statement. What was their relationship if not a mix of personal feelings and business?
"In this case, there's no difference between 'personal' and 'business'. Attaining the presidency and avenging Hughes are both things I do of my own free will! I'm going after military command." After this treasonous statement, he glanced sideways at her. "Will you help me?"
"You know there's no need to ask," Riza responded. She had sworn long ago to protect him no matter what. She would keep that promise until her dying day if need be. She would give her life to keep it.
No one else intruded on the peace of that alleyway. No one saw Roy's face as he gazed down at his lieutenant. No one saw the pure love and loyalty reflected in both of their eyes. No one saw him reach down and take her hand.
Theirs was a love that no one could ever see, but they knew it was there. It didn't matter that no one else could see it, as long as they both knew.