I had Hughes call her by a nickname because in one of the games, he apparently calls her 'Riza-chan' and also I think it's a thing Hughes would do (if only to piss off Roy).

Chapter 9 - A Strong Alliance

"Wait," Havoc breathed, raising his hand.

Riza stopped short. Roy bumped into her. His eyes flashed to the guns at her belt, and the tension in her hands.

The corridors were mostly empty. Still, Havoc was playing it safe, standing by the supply closet as if in desperate, indecisive need of some mop or other. He spied down the hall where Riza stood.

It was lunch time. The voices from the canteen made it nearly impossible for him to distinguish if there was anyone else around.

Two soldiers passed up ahead. Their conversation faded alongside them. Perhaps now would be—

Havoc winced when Riza and Roy briskly walked towards him. But he hadn't yet given a signal!
His ears perked. More voices, around the corner from where they came. They couldn't stay there.

He threw a glance behind him. The canteen was bustling, but no one exited or entered for a moment. The coasts were clear except—

Havoc cringed. It would have to do. He closed the supply closet when Riza reached him. She pulled on Roy's hand to have him catch up. The men unknowingly on their heels couldn't under any circumstances see him. And of all times, Fuery had to help out at the Towers! Breda was making sure the office remained empty as their hiding place and base of operations. Falman was eating lunch to drive off suspicions.

He wasn't their best option – no, he was certainly not their best option – he was their only option.

"Major!" Havoc called quietly. Riza stiffened but he could see the gears of her brain turning.

Major Armstrong interrupted his powerful stride. His lips curled into a happy smile behind his thick moustache. His eyes kept growing though, brows furrowing at the sight of a twelve-year-old unsuccessfully blending into Riza's side.

"Major, you need to help us get Hawkeye to the Colonel's office without being seen," Havoc fleetly explained. Then he dashed down the hall, back to the supply closet to block them from view with the door wide open, at least for another instant. Their oblivious pursuers were approaching fast.

Lieutenant Colonel Cessna and his aide of all people.

"Of course, Lieutenant!" Armstrong boomed full of rapture and sincerity. Riza ducked herself and Roy under the Major's arm, assessing the situation herself before taking another right.

To Havoc's surprise, the Lieutenant Colonel and his aide turned on the heel, fleetly making for the canteen. A smirk edged its way onto Havoc's lips. Perhaps the Major was their best choice – if not to help them go undercover, then to drive anyone off with his mere presence.

And what the hell was he doing in the East anyway?

"Second Lieutenant!" Havoc jumped out of his skin when the Major's smooth voice roared directly behind him.

"Shhh!" Havoc shushed. He had broken a sweat several times already during their stealth mission, but this was too much for his poor heart. His eardrums certainly agreed. "Major," he hissed, "what happened to escorting them?"

"They made it safely to the stairs," the Major solemnly reported.

Havoc facepalmed himself. He hasted after them, never minding Armstrong following behind. Whether he might continue to prove a valuable distraction or not, it didn't matter. There was no getting rid of him now.

Knock, knock… Knock.

The door opened. Breda was about to close it after Havoc, when the Major poked his head in. It was sheer impossible to close the door around that bull's neck lest they risked breaking it. The door, not the neck.

To Havoc's relief, Riza was already there. She watched with slight alarm from where she stood behind the Colonel's desk, but didn't protest.

Reluctantly, Breda locked the door behind the Major.

"Your behaviour is most suspicious," he gently accused.

"Really? What gave it away?" Havoc drily asked. He wiped his sweaty palms on his waist cape, finally slumping into his chair. What a lunch break. His stomach grumbled. All because Roy's pride wouldn't let him walk around in Havoc's makeshift attire. No, he had to spend his morning shopping for clothes.

Riza tested the Major's gaze for another moment. Then she looked down, a sigh nearly unnoticeably passing her lips. She motioned to the couch. He took the invitation, the old springs creaking a loud protest under his weight.

Havoc looked at Riza. She hesitated, eyes glued to her feet – at the one sitting there.

Sensing their unease to share, the Major began, "I have been sent here alongside Lieutenant Colonel Hughes and a few men because of the recent incident with a rogue alchemist. I'm sure you're informed about the latest developments," he hinted at the fire, "seeing as you were present during his apprehension. We've come to take him to Central—"

"You can't take him!" Riza's head snapped up. Havoc grimaced, sharing a concerned look with Breda.

"You see," Breda struggled for words, "we kinda still need him for… information."

An agitated silence stretched between them. Armstrong had already seen Roy, but he either had more tact than they assumed, not asking at all, or didn't think it relevant to the case. So then he hadn't recognised him… Which was only logical. Who would expect to see a superior officer in the body of a child?

"What does Central want with him anyway?" Havoc asked.

"He will be court-martialled," the Major disclosed. "The death of soldiers should put him behind bars for quite some years, however…" He glanced at his hands in his lap. His voice retreated to a mumble. "Word around headquarters has it that he will be sentenced to death in secret."

Havoc gulped. They had come this far – they couldn't lose their only solution because Central hastily executed the man.

"You can come out," Riza interrupted Havoc's thoughts.

His lips tightened into a thin line. She would know what was best – she must have known by now that having the Major help them out would be the only way. Still, Havoc was on the edge of his seat.

"Wasn't I supposed to trust only you guys and that lady?" Roy's still much higher voice came from behind the desk.

The Major's brow furrowed curiously.

Riza stepped out from Roy's desk. "I know what I said, but the situation has changed. We need to trust the Major to stop Central's commands."

Armstrong stood, intrigued, but didn't advance.

"I'm afraid we might have to involve Lieutenant Colonel Hughes in this too…" Riza turned to Armstrong. "Major, what else do you know about the circumstances of the crime?"

"Four men were killed in action."

"Yes," Riza gravely affirmed. "But there were five victims."

"Five?"

"As a first-class alchemist yourself, I'm sure you know what that means."

Armstong's breath got stuck in his throat. His pupils shrunk. "Human transmutation?"

"We don't know," Breda cautiously intervened. "We're no experts."

The only proof lied in ashes, Havoc inwardly added. And in the man himself.

"What we do know is that there were five victims and only one of them survived," Riza said.

Roy stood. Armstrong's eyes widened. His legs carried him over of their own accord, hands opening as if to help him grasp the situation. It made Roy shift away from behind the desk, closer to Riza.

"By my great uncle's beard!" Armstrong exclaimed. "Why, he is the spitting image of his father! What resemblance! Oh, and Lieutenant!" She recoiled when he spread his beefy arms as if to hug her every bone out of her body. "Such a young mother! I am moved to tears!"

"What?!" Riza blushed three shades of wild crimson.

Havoc almost laughed out loud at the shrillness of her voice.

"Major!" Breda hissed.

"That is the Colonel," Havoc said, trying to be quiet. He swallowed his snort, now too busy with second-hand embarrassment. Riza's hair must have been standing on end.

"And if he already looks this much like the Colonel to others…" Breda scratched his chin. He was right; they would have to hide Roy's face from now on. "Also how old do you think the Lieutenant is that she can have a twelve year old son?"

"Thank you," Riza said between her teeth.

"Funny how that was your first idea though – Hawkeye being the mum of the Colonel's kid and all."

She cleared her throat but Breda went on.

"Didn't Rebecca say the same thing? I mean you've certainly shown—"

"Thank you, Heymans."

Havoc whistled. "Uuh, first name basis."

"I think that's more of a downgrade." Breda caught her death glare, retreating into the corner behind the door. "If looks are anything to go by…" He averted his eyes from the fire blazing in hers, even if it meant that he was missing out on the blush still glowing up to the tips of her ears.

She glared at Roy.

"He asked how the woman reacted…" he defended himself with pouty-puffy cheeks.

"The Colonel is…" Oblivious, Armstrong interrupted the murderous looks.

"That alchemist has the remaining parts of his soul," Havoc supplied. "He already gave back a fraction when we did as he ordered, but obviously, a couple of years are still missing."

"Years?"

"He was six following the incident."

"Six years old?! And now he is—" Armstrong gasped for breath. His gaze hardened, sinking to his feet. "So this is why Central is so concerned. The rogue alchemist has ventured too deeply into human transmutation."

"And he deserves to be punished for his crimes, but first," Breda piped up, still in the corner, "we need him to reverse this. All of it."

"I see…" the Major muttered.

"Do you think you can help us, Major?" Riza asked urgently. She dug out a sheet of paper from under her belt. Havoc raised his brows but understood. If she were to be searched, pockets, uniform coat and everything, they risked giving away their involvement. It was the transmutation circle.

"Hm…" Armstrong mused, studying the array. "I cannot say I'm versed when it comes to… the living biology side of alchemy." He handed back the sketch. "But I will do all I can to delay that malefactor's extradition. I shall consult with Lieutenant Colonel Hughes in private on the matter, if you concur, of course."

"I don't think we have much of a choice."

"The Colonel won't hear the end of it from Hughes, but…" Havoc shrugged.

"Whatever needs to be done," Riza told Armstrong. Her eyes were alight with determination. They knew that when she said 'whatever', she was offering up herself in any way possible to achieve their goal.

The Major held her gaze for another moment. She never wavered.

"Very well," he finally mumbled. His eyes darted to Roy. The latter tried his best to remain as cool and confident as his self-appointed foster mother, but edged to hide behind her anyway. Armstrong smiled from behind his moustache. "What a curious situation indeed." He spied around Riza, making Roy move in the opposite direction. Armstrong chuckled.

Havoc relaxed a little, fumbling for a cigarette in his bag. "Say, when exactly are you supposed to—"

They all jumped when there was a loud thud against the door. Breda winced to open it but hesitated. No secret knocking. How would they explain the locked door…?

"Lieutenant Hawkeye!" Warrant Officer Sikorsky – Cessna's aide – burst into the room the second Breda opened it, pretending it had been stuck on accident. Sikorsky didn't seem to have noticed a thing. "Your presence was requested in the Lieutenant Colonel's meeting!" he raged.

Riza was frozen for a second. Every drop of blood had drained from her flushed face. Havoc's cigarette dropped from his fingers. He could only stare – stare at the way Roy was currently hidden only just so behind Armstrong's massive frame.

"My sincerest apologies to the Lieutenant Colonel." Riza bowed. "I shall write a formal apology and the report of the—"

"The meeting has only just been convened." He gestured aggressively for her to follow. "Have you not informed yourself?"

How, if it had only just been convened, Havoc wanted to ask but bit his tongue. He could see Riza do the same.

"Please accept my most humble apologies," Riza said as she followed behind Sikorsky. He scoffed. They could hear him all the way down the hall as he bombarded her with complaints and whatever else his brief grasp of power over a superior officer had been granted to him through Cessna.

Another punishment, they knew. Why they only targeted her and not Roy's entire team remained a mystery, but at least it enabled them to take turns in watching over Roy.

When Riza returned, Havoc cringed at the exhaustion weighing down her lids. Her eyes had already borne dark rims that morning. She winced slightly when Roy threw himself at her the second the door fell shut. Havoc could only guess how much her arm still hurt.

"Sorry to make you wait. Did you have something nice for lunch?" she asked gently.

Havoc smiled a little sadly at how much tenderness she could summon despite the harshness she had had to endure all afternoon. And how she asked about food despite not having had a bite herself. Her stomach gave a low howl as if on cue.

Roy grinned up at her without ceasing to hug her. "Brownies and cheese crackers!" he proudly reported. Her shoulders slumped. Havoc dodged her eyes, seeing Breda do the same. "Do we really have to work with that huge, sparkling man? He scares me…"

"He always will," Riza sighed.

"If we can only trust the officers here, him and the lady, won't the doctor from when I woke up in hospital blow the whistle on us?" Roy took her hand, towing her towards the couch.

"Dr Knox is an old friend of yours who happened to be here in the East to see his son. I asked him specifically because I know he will keep this a secret." She steered them forward to deposit the documents she had brought. Her hand had hardly released them to thump onto the desk when Roy pulled her away again. Her resistance was that of a withering leaf.

"If the alchemist dies, won't his spells die with him or will this last forever?"

"I'm afraid I don't know enough about alchemy to answer that."

They all had their own thoughts on the matter, but they could not be one hundred percent certain. It was no use dampening the mood further, so they said nothing.

Havoc watched as Roy hopped up onto the couch, still keeping Riza's hand captive. He was starting to ask smarter questions. He understood more and more, that much was certain. He won her over just as easily as before though, or perhaps even more so thanks to the long, straining meeting. Riza showed little to no objection when he tugged on her to join him. She slumped more than she sat.

"Did you already go shopping, Lieutenant Breda?" she asked.

Breda stopped alibi-working to turn in his chair. Seeing her there with Roy still holding her hand, examining the ink stains on it, Breda had to smile before shaking his head.

"Could I possibly bother you with something else then?" Riza dug out a note from her pocket.

Breda got up to study it. "Sure." He frowned wrily.

Havoc craned his neck but couldn't decipher anything from where he sat.

"Thank you." Riza sank against the backrest.

"You know you can always take a nap. We'll lock the door," Breda cautiously suggested.

"And since you'll have to stay late anyway," Havoc nodded at Roy, "it won't keep work from getting done." He winked. "I think someone else could also use one."

"I'm not tired," Roy immediately protested. His legs had stopped swinging though, and his eyes drooped before he felt addressed. Now he opened them wide, defyingly, but when Riza yawned, he couldn't stop himself from being infected.

She glanced at the clock for a long moment. "Fifteen minutes," she eventually gave in, "and not a minute longer." She looked from Havoc to Breda. They nodded sternly, careful to stay serious. It became harder when Riza lied down and Roy seized his chance to instantly crawl into her embrace. She didn't hesitate to grant it.

Her eyes shut before she could so much as glare at the men. Her side rose with a long sigh, quickly falling into a peaceful rhythm. They held their breaths for another two minutes, but she was already asleep.

"Wow," Breda whispered, "that was fast."

"The poor woman," Havoc agreed. "Didn't the Colonel once say she was close to insomniac?"

"I bet she is when he's not cheek by jowl."

Havoc leaned back in his chair. "Man, what if Central does kill the guy?" He crossed his arms behind his head. Their gazes rested on Roy's little frame, strapped safely into Riza's arms. His face was disappearing in her turtleneck – of course, she had unbuttoned her uniform again. Havoc was beginning to think that she might have been serious about adoption as well. He couldn't imagine it, not yet, and certainly not what impact it would have on their work.

Would she quit the military if Roy wasn't there anymore to strive for greatness?

Seven minutes, twenty-three seconds. A soft knock startled Havoc. Breda got up while Havoc drew his weapon. Breda went to the door, about to press his ear to it when there was a whisper through the keyhole.

"It's me, Maes."

Havoc sighed with relief. Breda fleetly unlocked and then locked the door again behind Hughes.

Hughes eyes flew to the couch like a moth to light, widening delightedly. He was entirely too used to Roy's crazy adventures to need adapting to the circumstances.

"You're kidding." He kept his voice lowered. "I was sure he got it wrong or was exaggerating." A huge grin spread across his face. Quietly, curiously, he snuck closer.

Havoc grimaced while Breda held his breath.

Hughes leaned over to get a peek at Roy's face. For naught. "How can he even sleep like that, smothered and all?"

"Mothered and all," Havoc quipped.

"You're right." Breda eased into a similar grin. "Who knew he was such a mama's boy?"

"Nah, he's probably just a Hawkeye's boy."

"What if you don't return him to normal?" Hughes interrupted their stifled snickering.

They had been chatting the whole time, most likely cosying Riza along. The brief silence that fell made her stir ever so slightly. She wasn't relaxed, a frown etched into her forehead the entire time, but her brows now creased with the sudden lack of voices.

"You'd spare him the trauma of the war," Hughes argued.

It would rob Roy of his best friend too, of ever talking to him the same way, seeing as they wouldn't have been to war together. Hughes must have given it quite some thought since being brought into the loop.

Breda pulled a face. "It's what primarily drives his goal," he tried to reason quietly, "and it wouldn't be fair to her."

"Cause she couldn't share the guilt with him anymore, huh," Hughes shrugged sadly.

"No, because she'd be an absolute train wreck – sorry for saying it like that, but you didn't see her," Havoc hissed when Hughes gave him a look. "Yes, her, Hawkeye. Adamant, composed, ever professional Hawkeye. She needs that man – and, well, for him to be a man."

"He wouldn't get over her if he knew what he's losing," Hughes said, "but I think she could manage."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"Not anymore, we don't," Breda agreed.

Hughes pursed his lips. He turned back to the couch. Leaning over, he regarded their cramped cuddle. He still had a hard time believing them – not that they could blame him. He had seen Roy at his worst. He shared the survivor's guilt and self-loathing for having killed so many people. It must have bordered the impossible to even picture that someone had escaped it all, his memories gone, his body that of an innocent boy.

Before they could say anything, Hughes reached out. He wanted – he needed – to see if that was truly his best friend. With his index finger, he aimed to brush some hair away; spy beneath it.

Riza's hand snatched his wrist. The loading lever of her gun clicked. The barrel pushed right between Hughes' brows before he could so much as blink. Her eyes snapped open, wild and panicked with fierce protectiveness.

They stared at each other for a cruelly long moment.

"H-hey, Rizalie," Hughes stuttered.

Sweat formed on his temple.

Finally, her stare wavered. She let the gun sink. The movement made her arm flinch, now that she had the capacity to register her own pain. "It's you." Her eyes closed briefly as she deflated with abating adrenaline. "I almost shot you."

"I know!" Hughes squeaked. "I was afraid I'd wished my Elicia a good day for the last time this morning…" He breathed a huge sigh of relief. His knees buckled, and he lowered into a crouch.

"Well, don't sneak up on me like that then," Riza snarled.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. Last time should have taught me," he said with the cheekiest smirk. She fired a warning glare.

"It's only been eleven minutes," Havoc piped up when Riza began rubbing Roy's back.

"I'm up anyway," she mumbled.

"He isn't," Havoc insisted before she could further disturb Roy. He hardly let himself be roused, only snuggling further into her chest the more she stroked his back. "Might as well stay."

She narrowed her eyes at Havoc. He held them.

To his surprise, she glanced away first. Head dropping into the cushion again – gun beneath it – Riza let herself be chained to the couch for a little longer.

"How old is Elicia again?" Havoc asked.

"Almost two!" Hughes practically soared over. In one practised swipe, he whipped out his wallet, unfolding a chain of photographs. Checking Roy's face was apparently long forgotten. "Look, I bought her this dress for her first birthday – doesn't fit anymore, of course. And here, when she turned fifteen months, we took her to the park. She's so good with animals. Look, look, here she is feeding swans – and she's not even two!" His finger flew from photograph to photograph, making Havoc dizzy. "We're going to have an epic party in January."

"Uh-huh."

"Gracia is such a wonderful wife and mother – she manages everything while I'm here."

"When are you going back then?" Breda asked on the way to the door.

"The day after tomorrow. And don't worry," Hughes said, his hand on the doorhandle, "I'll do what I can to delay the trial. Just tell me what you need." He smiled.

They saluted and thanked him, then locked the door.

"Sheesh," Havoc laughed, "good thing it was only Hughes." He swivelled around in his chair. "I was afraid we'd have to shove you two under the desk for a second." He tilted his head back, cigarette between his lips. No reply. Frowning, he opened his mouth when he saw Breda shaking his head. He followed Breda's pointing finger with his eyes.

Both Roy and Riza were soundly asleep.