comrades-to-lovers enthousiast

"What?", Ed shouted back over his shoulder. No answer came; he put the pan down, wiped his hand on a towel, and went to peek his head in the living room, where Al sat every morning to read the newspaper. Ever the diplomat, he kept up with Amestrian affairs even during his vacations - unlike his brother who couldn’t care less. "What?" Ed repeated.

Al looked up from the paper. His voice had sounded excited, but he now had a shocked look on his face. "Roy Mustang is getting married."

Ed's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" He slowly walked into the living room, digesting the information.  "Well, I guess it was about time. I wonder how he convinced Riza, though."

"He's not..." Al shook his head, his eyes fixed on the newspaper. "He's not marrying Riza."

"What?"

Al laid the newspaper flat on the table. "Look: "It is with great pleasure that the Fuhrer-President Roy Alexander Mustang, son of Francis and Lian Mustang, announces his betrothal to Ms. Margaret Evans, daughter of Sir Timothy Evans and Carla Esposito. The ceremony will be held on the 27th of July at the National Opera House in Central. ", etc.  “

Ed reread the sentence several times, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He had never heard that woman's name before. "Margaret Evans...Is that one of Riza's cover name? Or her legal name maybe?"

“I don't find so," Al answered, frowning. "Isn't her full name Elizabeth? That's what they use when they go undercover, anyway."

"This makes no sense." Ed tossed the towel over his shoulder. "I'm gonna give him a call," he said resolutely, walking up to the only phone in the house.

It was Sunday, so he called Roy's apartment. When that got no answer, he called his office on his personal number, where he got a busy signal.

"I'm betting everyone in Central is trying to call him right now," Al said, watching him grow impatient. "It is quite the bombshell to drop in a Sunday newspaper."

Right. Sometime Ed forgot that Roy was the leader of one of the most powerful nation around. "This better not be another of his twisted political scheme," he muttered with his ear on the receiver.

Al crossed his arms, leaning back on his chair. "On the contrary, I hope it is. Because otherwise, it would mean that this is a genuine announcement. "He paused and looked up at his brother. "You don't think that it could really be..."

"No," Ed shook his head with confidence. "Of course not."

He had seen Roy and Riza only a few months prior. A couple of times a year, the two of them would find an excuse to come to Resembool for a weekend without any of their personnel. They came to visit Ed and his family, of course, but it was also an opportunity for them to spend time away from the public eye and the hectic bustle of Central.

And, of course, a rare opportunity to openly exists as a couple, if only for a few days.

Ed thought back on the way the two of them were behaving on their last visit, and he could not imagine that Roy would truly want to marry anyone other than Riza.

"Roy Mustang speaking."

The voice in the receiver jolted Ed out of his thoughts. "Mustang!" he called out, louder than he intended. "What the hell is this?"

He heard a sight. "Good morning to you too, Edward." Roy’s office seemed busy than usual - Ed had trouble hearing his voice over the noise from the background.

"Let’s cut through the pleasantries, alright? We saw the announcement on the paper."

There was a short pause. "Ah. Well, if this is about my wedding, I accept your congratulations, however unconventional."

Ed's foot tapped on the floor impatiently, but he kept his voice calm. "I'm not calling to congratulate you, Roy, and you know it. I'm calling to ask for an explanation. Since when do you..."

"Edward. " Mustang's voice interrupted him firmly. "It's not very pleasant to have this kind of conversation on the phone. Why don't you come by Central? We could discuss this in person - and I know the Captain would be glad to see you."

Ed paused and bit down a scathing reply. He let out a defeated sight instead. "Sure. We'll....we'll see you there."

The line went dead before he could hang up. He still slammed the phone on the receiver with force, for good measure.

"I knew it," he said to Al cynically. "It is another one of his schemes: he didn't want to talk about it on the phone. And it seems like Hawkeye’s on it."

Al nodded slowly. "Of course. Roy would never do something like this without her approval.” He looked down on the newspaper with a pensive expression. "I'm guessing he wants to use the wedding to boost his image. But still...I didn't imagine he would go to such length. ”

"I don't know why he's doing this, but he better have a damn good reason. Come on, Al, we're catching the first train to Central."

---

Ed and Al had never seen Central Command in such a state of frenzy. The chaos that reigned on the floor of the presidential office was of a very different kind than the cozy, domestic one they had left : phones were constantly ringing, officers were running around with their arms full of documents; and everyone was shouting to communicate over the tumult. Two soldiers watched the door to Mustang's office. Without a State Alchemist pocket watch or an uniform, Ed and Al were initially denied access; Al had to rummage through his bag for an attestation of his status of diplomat to get them through.

Inside the presidential office, it was even worse. Dodging an officer that came to ask their business, Ed made his way through the crowd like a bulldozer until he reached Roy's desk. The president was on the phone; he nodded to them as he noticed their presence, then returned to his conversation.

A few minutes later, Roy hung up and turned in their direction.

"You got here quickly," he greeted them. "Edward. Alfonse, nice to see you."

"It's been a while," Al replied warmly; Ed nodded. Roy’s attitude was nonchalant, as usual, but he couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes or the tension in his shoulders.

Roy smiled apologetically. "Sorry for the mess. As you can imagine, things have been a little hectic since the announcement came out. But," he glanced at his clock and stood up, "it's past noon, so I think I deserve a lunch break. How about we grab something and go eat in my study? I could use a little peace and quiet.”

His study, the only place in Central Command that Roy trusted not to be bugged. Right.

"Riza - I mean Captain Hawkeye isn't here with you?" Al asked, looking as they were leaving his office.

"If you think my office was busy, you should see hers,” Roy answered with a slight smile. “She insisted to be named head of security for the wedding, so she has started coordinating the whole thing. I doubt we'll be able to catch her for dinner - it'll be lucky if I can convince her to get some rest for the night. "His tone was joking, but somehow lacked conviction.

Walking down the hallways, Roy called out to an employee and asked him to bring three lunches to his study. The officer saluted, then ran off to the cafeteria. Perks of being the president, Ed guessed.

As they entered the president’s study, a small but gorgeous room filled with ancient bookshelves, Ed noticed with surprise that Roy had brought a stack of documents with him. He put them down on the varnished wooden desk and began to glance at the one on top, as the employee entered the room to drop off sandwiches. That was unprecedented. Ed and Al had never seen Roy as overworked - but then, in the years they had worked for him, they had rarely seen him work at all.

When the officer had left the room and the door was safely closed behind him, Roy opened one of the drawers at the bottom of his cabinet and rummaged through it for a few seconds, pulling out a messy pile of paper.

"Take a look at this."

He tossed a couple of newspapers on the desk in front of them. They seemed to be from various of the biggest gossip magazine of Central, and even a couple newspapers. The headlines were all short, bold, to the point. "The Fuhrer's string of affairs continues," "The Hawk's Eye: the new presidential scandal?", "Is Mustang sleeping with his staff? Exclusive testimony from ex-military", "Turmoil in Central Command over speculation on Fuhrer-President's relationships". They covered a period of several months, the earliest going back half a year.

Ed frowned and let the papers fall back on the desk. "So? This isn't an explanation."

Roy looked up from the document he was reading. "I heard you were pretty smart, Edward. I'm sure you can figure out the rest." Now that they were in private, his tone had become noticeably less polite and more snappy - even more during their usual exchange, it seemed.

"What, you're upset that some journalists are writing about you and Riza, so you're marrying someone else to throw them off? Are you insane?" Ed shook his head with frustration. "Since when do you care about what the media says about you anyway?"

Roy didn’t raise his eyes. "I’ve cared about it ever since it started threatening my position, Edward.”

"Your position is not democratically elected yet, as far as I know," Ed replied stubbornly.

He growled. “It’s not that simple, Ed.” Roy put down his document for good, resting his forearms on the desk. The sandwiches laid next to him, already forgotten. "Listen. Since I've entered the military, I've purposely built a reputation as a womanizer and a slacker, so that the higher up wouldn't feel threatened by me." He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "It worked a bit too well, I guess. Now, the nationalists are trying to portray me as a depraved, scandalous man with no respect for traditions, so that they can discredit my democratic reforms in the same way.” He frowned, and his expression darkened. “They've already exposed my relationship with Chris all over the newspapers, smearing her bar and her reputation. Now, they’re using Chris’ informants to paint me as a skirt-chaser who constantly sleep around – and not to mention with his subordinates.”

"But there have always been rumors, right? " Al asked cautiously. "Even in Xin, I've heard about it several times.”

"Yes, but never of that magnitude. And never targeting Riza so precisely." He looked away, embarrassed. "We got careless. Journalists caught me leaving her apartment one morning, and the rumors have been crazy ever since." Ed winced. They had always been worried that something like that would happen. "You know, this is not just for my career. When the rumors were at their peak, reporters were scrutinizing our routines from morning till night. It was unbearable; we couldn't even see each other without risking getting caught." Roy took a long look at the both of them, one after the other. “This is only a temporary arrangement to make our lives easier. I know this may seem wrong, but it is the best option we have."

Al nodded slowly. He didn't seem that surprised by this whole affair; but after all, he must have witness similar - or worse - situations in the Xinese Court.

Ed wished he could take it as well as Al, but he couldn’t help feeling shocked. Roy's explanation was perfectly rational; he understood why they were doing this. But just imagining being in the same situation – and putting Winry through it – was making him feel sick.

"I can't believe you’ve convinced yourself that this your best solution." Roy gave him what seemed to be an exasperated look, which angered Ed even more. He raised his voice. "Isn't it bad enough that you and Riza can't live together? You really have to push the charade even further, marrying someone else? To, to spend years pretending to lead a normal family life of which Riza is not part off,  while she still has to work by your side?” Ed was on the edge of his seat, almost yelling now. "I mean, how can you do something like that to her? ”

"Edward!" Roy slammed his hand on the table, cutting him off. He had properly shouted, but his voice was low with anger. "It was her idea to begin with. She insisted on going through with this."

Ed paused, taken aback. "Really?"

Roy looked him straight in the eye. His tone was sharp as a knife. "Do you really think I would suggest a plan like this?"

No, of course not, Ed realized. He felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. It seemed obvious now: Roy would never make Riza go through something like this of his own volition. Despite his impassive persona, even Ed knew how soft-hearted he was when it came to those close to him. She had always been the one taking the harsh decisions in that regard.

"You're right,” he mumbled, sitting back. “Sorry."

Roy sighed, his anger replaced by weariness. "Don't worry about it. Everyone we told reacted that way."

After a moment, Al broke the silence. "You think people are gonna buy this? The wedding?"

"They are, if we do it right,” answered Roy without a doubt. “This operation has been long in the making. Margot and I started to go on dates a few months ago, making ourselves seen; we made sure those newspapers were writing about her well before we announced the engagement."

"And who's this poor girl who thinks she'll be marrying the President?" Ed asked with a scowl.

Roy gave him a long look. "Again, you have a very poor opinion of me if you think that this is what I would do, Edward." Ed felt a blush creep up his face, but he held Roy’s gaze. "No, Margot is a contact from Chris – thankfully, no one knows their connection.” He searched another of his drawers for a moment and placed what appeared to be a pamphlet for a theater play on the desk. “She's a lifesaver, to be honest: this plan would have fallen through if we hadn't found someone like her that perfectly fitted our needs."

"An actress, huh? Isn't that a bit obvious?" Ed picked up the pamphlet. On the front page was a picture of a woman in her thirties, long brown hair framing a round friendly face.

"She's an opera singer," Roy rectified. "But she has done acting, so she'll be able to play the part. She's sympathetic to our situation, and also her own interest in this matter: the marriage will give her some publicity to launch her career. And, most importantly, Chris trust her, which means we can." He put his hands together, elbows on the table, the posture he took when he gave orders to his subordinates. "I don't need to tell you how devastating it would be if her, or anyone, leaked out to the press the truth behind this wedding. All our careers would be over in an instant. Which is why I need you two to be extremely careful."

Ed winced as he thought back on what he had almost shouted over the phone this morning, or in Roy’s office. That would take some adjusting on his part.

He also guessed that Roy and Riza would have to stop their visits to Resembool for a while.

He cleared his throat. "And how long do you plan on keeping this up?"

"Not a moment longer than we need to, I can assure you. When my democratic reforms are implanted and solid, I will step down as President - that was already the plan." Roy stood and went to look out the study’s window, hands in his pockets. A smirk appeared on his lips. "If it was up to me, I’d file for divorce the instant I walk down the stairs of Central Command, but Riza think it would be too obvious - not to mention a bit improper, considering I plan to propose to her afterwards." He chuckled, then his face fell. "She thinks we shouldn't get married at all. That it would prove the rumors about us and tarnish my legacy - with those of my reforms. " He sighed and turned toward them. "But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. ”

He walked back to his desk and laid his hands flat on it.

"In the meanwhile, while you don’t have to, we would appreciate it if you came to the wedding." Ed shot him a confused look. "You're still pretty popular with the people,", Roy explained, "and everyone knows you've worked with me in the past. The more of our actual entourage come to the ceremony, the more believable it will be."

Al glanced sideways at Ed. "Of course. We can be there; I imagine Ling will want to hear details about the wedding anyway. And, um," he addressed his brother more than Roy, "hopefully we can keep Riza company for a bit.”

Roy gave him a smile, the first genuine one since the start of the conversation. "Thank you."

----

Riza spent the week before the wedding having to repeat the same things over and over again like a broken record. She was fine; it didn’t bother her ; that was her idea to begin with. She told that to her old team, to the Elric brothers, to Rebecca; and most of all she told that to Roy.  She felt constantly on edge; she couldn’t stand the way people looked at her, as if they expected her to break down crying at any moment. "If you give me that sorry look one more time," she snapped at Roy one evening, "I'll lock you in your office until the wedding.”

It was driving her crazy. She didn't have time to waste with these conversations: she was the head of security for a national wedding, and she had so many tasks to deal with that she didn't know where to give her attention. Every moment of those days she spent on her feet, going from meetings to meetings, keeping tabs on the dozens of teams that were handling the various parts of the organization, making sure no detail was overlooked. Her days were so full that she didn't have time to stop and think; and in the evening she would collapse into her single bed, exhausted, and fall asleep almost immediately.

On top of all the logistics, she had to accompany the President and the would-be First Lady through the media whirlwind that preceded the wedding. Margaret was unknown to the public, and all of Central was desperate to catch a glimpse of the woman who had finally managed to tame Roy Mustang, the famous womanizer, and make him settle down. Both played their roles to perfection: Margot was charming, distinguished but not haughty, teasing Roy fondly; he played the helpless romantic, laughing with a bit of mischievous embarrassment when his scandalous past was brought up. They were funny, complicit, shy when they needed to be - as if they had a real private life they wanted to keep for themselves - and most of all, they were oh so in love.

Riza received a few interview requests herself, but only from the most shameless magazines, the same ones that had cheerfully dragged her name through the mud a couple of months earlier. She hadn’t bothered to decline.

---

The Central Times: There were… rumors, a bit unflattering if I may add, going around about the President turbulent love life. Has that ever been a concern to you, Ms. Evans?

ME: I had certainly heard about it, like everyone else. In fact, I almost refused his first invitation to dinner precisely because of that. (laughs) But it became clear to me very quickly that Roy...did not act the way I expected him to. And I think that realization convinced me to put my cards on the table. I told him, on our second date, that the type of behavior talked about in the papers was not acceptable to me. And that I would rather cut things off immediately if he was not willing to leave that lifestyle behind.

TCT : On your second date! You certainly know what you want.

(Both laugh)

RM: That is one way to put it! I think that was one of the moments I realized what kind of woman Margot was. And - I'm gonna be honest with you for a moment - as a Fuhrer, who spend his days ordering people around, I certainly appreciate a woman that can hold her own.

---

The big day finally arrived. Roy had insisted she didn't have to be there, that she could fake an illness or an emergency. Riza knew that wasn’t the case. The most persistent rumors were those that linked Roy to his bodyguard; her absence at this wedding would have been nothing short of glaring. In any case, Riza was so busy overseeing the course of the day’s event that she didn't even get to visit the soon-to-be-wed couple before they appeared during the ceremony.

They were gorgeous, of course: two attractive people in the elegance of their middle age, dressed by the best designers in Central, resplendent in their happiness. Roy wore the kind of suit he preferred, all black, very chic; Margot had a white satin dress with a long front and back neckline, the kind of dress Riza could never wear on similar occasions.

The kiss, the one everyone was waiting for, was as spectacular as the rest. They went all in, Roy tilting Margot backward until it looked like they were both about to fall down. It didn't bother Riza as much as she would have thought. Roy had never kissed her this way; this was an embrace for the show, for the cameras, while the ones they shared were always strictly for each other. The whole world had seen how the extravagant Flame Alchemist and Hero of Ishval kissed someone, and it had matched their expectations, but only Riza knew the way Roy Mustang kissed someone like he meant it.

She was grateful Roy went that way. She wasn't sure if she could have borne watching him kiss Margot with the same mannerism he kissed her.

And after that came the reception, the dinner, the dance. Dozens of people lined up to give their congratulations to the newlywed couple – mostly members of the aristocracy or the military who had never talked to either of them before - and Roy and Margot accepted their wishes with courtesy, pretending to be touched or delighted by their conversations.

Not for the first time, Riza thought to herself how she would dislike being in Margot's shoes right now. Having to maintain a facade of politeness throughout her wedding day, spending it with opportunistic strangers instead of her loved ones...she couldn’t have done it.

Truly, she was more comfortable behind the scenes as head of security than under the spotlight as the bride.

She watched them eat next to each other, chatting pleasantly with the other guests. She watched them open the dance, arms in arms, and even she felt touched by how beautiful of a sight they were, two stunning dancers gracefully moving across the ballroom like they were floating about the ground, weightless.

Some of her friends and comrades came to subtly check on her, asking again how she was doing. Many insisted to keep her company; but she was on duty, and too many tasks required her attention for her to be able to simply enjoy the night, she told them. At no moment during the evening did she let her guard down, checking in regularly with the security personnel, running patrols even as the evening calmed down and guests slowly started to trickle away, the married couple leaving to their private quarters and the staff starting to take the decorations down.

All night long, she remained the very image of professionalism.

---

Rebecca was the one who found her. She had taken refuge in a place where no one would dare come looking for her, in the bathroom of her hotel room, both doors locked. Obviously, this was not enough to keep her closest friend away.

Rebecca opened the bathroom door to find her curled up on the tile floor, her back against the wall, one hand pressed against her mouth. Even here, hidden from the world, Riza was still trying to control herself; but her body was shaking with shuddering sobs, silent tears running down her face and rolling over her fingers.

Even Rebecca had rarely seen her in such a state, at least not since her return from Ishval.

Her heart broke at the sight, as well as her voice. "Oh, Riza."

She fell down on the floor beside her. Riza raised her head and tried to wipe her cheeks with the back of her hands.

"I'm fine," she began immediately. She could hear how silly it sounded, for her to say that with her strangled voice and her hiccups. "I'm okay, it's just.....It's stupid." She shook her head, embarrassed. "I'm the one who suggested this. I don't get why I'm reacting like that, when I know that it doesn't mean anything..."

"Riza." Rebecca interrupted her with a voice thick with emotion but firm. "I'm gonna need you to shut up right now."

She complied and Rebecca put her arms around her, drawing her closer. Riza buried her head against her shoulders. For a few minutes, only the muffled sound of her cries broke the silence.  

"When are you seeing him?" Rebecca asked her softly after she had calmed down, stroking her back.

Suddenly, Riza felt an urge to talk to Roy. She had avoided him as much as she could for the past few days, unable to bear the way he looked at her, the guilt that transpired in his every move, his need to tell her those sappy things they never had to say before - how much he loved her, and only her, and how that would never change. But right now, for the first time, she needed to hear those silly, stupid words all over again.

She shook her head. "Not tonight. Too risky. We'll see how closely the journalists watch his house after the wedding, and decide when it's safe for me to visit him again."

Rebecca said nothing, still rubbing her back. Riza was already getting back to her normal, composed self, forcing her breaths to be long and steady.

"And…please don't tell him you saw me like this."

There was a silence, then Rebecca sighed. She shook her head.

"You know, sometimes I wonder why you two seem so determined to remain unhappy for the rest of your lives.”

Riza knew how to answer this. There were things that had to be done; work that had to be finished before Roy and her could be allowed to live for themselves. Damages they had to repair, sins to atone for.

"No, I’m not familiar," Riza finally replied with a contrite smile. "But I have to admit that, um, metalworking isn’t really a passion of mine."

The young man’s eyebrow shot up in genuine surprise. “Really, you’ve never heard of us?”

Riza had been upfront, but obviously not enough: the boy launched into a detailed description of the business’ operations, while she leaned further into the counter as she attempted to drink her boredom away.

Around them, the air was buzzing with conversations. The bar area was dramatically overcrowded: to reach the dancefloor in the next room, one had to elbow its way through the crowd - Riza had almost dropped her drink twice already from being pushed around. A tape recorder in the opposite corner was screaming out a blaring jazz tune, and a thick cloud of cigarette smoke was already beginning to form on the ceiling.

The Labor’s Day party was certainly not the fanciest celebration of the year, but it was nevertheless one of Riza's favorites. On this day, she was truly off-duty: there was no information to gather or higher-ups to compliment, and no reports to make at the end of the night. Besides, it was a rare opportunity for the military to mix with the civilians of Central, which led to some interesting encounters.

Well, most of the time.

Riza nodded idly as the young man continued his monologue. She had exhausted her repertoire of polite ways to end a conversation: this man was either incredibly tenacious or splendidly oblivious. He had even followed her to the bar when, on the pretense of getting a drink, she had tried to sneak away! For the umpteenth time, Riza’s thoughts drifted to the gun that was strapped on her right tight – sadly not a serious solution. She sighed and rested her chin against her left hand, her elbow on the table.

"Lieutenant! "

The interjection snapped her out of her reverie immediately. She raised her head and looked over her shoulder to see the Colonel - who else - who was just emerging from the crowd.

Riza hadn't seen him since the start of the night; he liked to keep busy on this type of occasion. But he didn’t seem in the mood to party at the moment: his expression was tense and he didn't even have a drink in his hands. As the Colonel reached the bar, he placed a hand on the counter between Riza and the young man, turning his back toward him as if he hadn't noticed his presence.

"Lieutenant, we just heard back from Havoc," he told her with a tone as serious as his face. "Target's on the move; we need to go now."

It did not take Riza long to understand. Without skipping a beat, she put her drink down, grabbed her purse and let her face fall back to its usual, serious appearance.

"Got it, sir."

Roy turned around and began to walk away. She went to follow him until a hand grasped her shoulder.

"Wait!" It was the young man - of course - looking dumbfounded, as if he hadn't followed what had just happened. "Can I at least get your number?"

This time, Riza didn't bother to fake a smile. "Maybe some other time."

With that, she twisted out of his grasp and ran after the Colonel who had already disappeared into the crowd.

She caught up with him as he exited the bar and entered the larger dance room. Riza took a few deep breaths; although the guests were just as numerous, the air here didn’t feel nearly as oppressive. The Colonel kept his rapid pace until they had crossed the sea of guests dancing in the middle of the room, swirling in all directions like raging waves.

When he slowed down and finally turned toward her, Roy wasn’t even trying to hide his self-satisfied smile.

"And you're welcome," he said with a half-mocking bow, stretching out the first word.

Riza took a moment to adjust the sleeves of her dress who had slipped off her shoulders – the garment wasn’t really made for this kind of wild chase.

"You know, people are going to become suspicious if you keep doing this," she replied as they started to walk again at a much more relaxed pace. "Besides, how do you know you didn't interrupt a perfectly lovely conversation?"

Roy threw her a knowing look. "Lieutenant, don't insult me. I could sense your annoyance from across the building." They were now entering the dining room, where guests could sit on small rounds tables to enjoy the buffet - not very fancy but quite filling – that laid on the counter along the wall. He smirked, putting his hands in his pockets. "That polite face of yours wasn't fooling anyone.”

"It was certainly fooling him."

"Men see what they want to see," Roy said whimsically. He glanced behind them, then pulled Riza by the arm. "Wait, let's sit. I think the guy might be looking for you."

They swiftly sat down on the first empty table they could see. Thanks to the people standing in small groups around them, their presence was hidden from most of the room.

Riza tried to look around, but couldn’t the young man's brown suit. She went to sip her drink and realized she had left it at the bar.

She sighed. “Guess I’ll need to lay low for a while. But thanks for the help, Colonel,” she added with a rare touch of honestly.

“Always my pleasure,” he nodded slightly. “Give me just a minute.”

Roy stood up and walked toward the back of the room. A few moments later, he returned with a plate filled with some of the few ragtag dishes that had survived from the buffet, and placed it down between them.

Riza suppressed a small smile. "You don't need to keep me company, you know."

Roy shrugged, mouth already full of shrimps. “I could use a break from the networking. Plus, being seen chatting with a beautiful blonde can’t hurt my image.”

“Except everyone knows that blonde is your subordinate,” Riza answered flatly, leaving the other problem unsaid. She reached out to grab a chocolate éclair. “This isn’t even a military event, and you’re still thinking about work?”

“Military event or not, many influent figures of Central are gathered tonight. Can’t miss that opportunity.” Roy licked the butter off his fingers, a gesture that contrasted with the classy black suit he was wearing. “But while we are talking….”, he turned his attention back to her, “there is actually something I needed to tell you. I’ve received intel on a certain individual, here in the capital, which seems rather intriguing.”

Riza fell back into soldier mode in the blink of an eye, straightening up on her chair. “What is this about?”

Roy raised a hand in front of him. “Relax. It’s not about the military.”

Riza frowned. Intel about someone from Central, without it being related to their work? What else could this be about?

It took a few long seconds for the realization to hit her. Oh.

“Sir….” she began warningly, hoping she was wrong.

Roy had a smirk on his face now, like a kid trying not to laugh at its own prank. “Now that I think of it, you in particular might find this person – her - interesting.”

Riza sighed and put her pastry down on the table. She looked him straight in the eye.

“I thought we had agreed, Colonel,” she said slowly, “on the fact that we do not have the same taste in women.”

He raised his hands defensively. “I know, Lieutenant, I know. Which is why this isn’t someone that I would date.”

Riza frowned, suspicious. “How come?”

“A bit too austere for my taste,” Roy answered offhandedly. She gave him a piercing look, and he caved in with a sheepish smile. “But mostly because she wouldn’t want to date me. You, on the other hand…”

Riza ignored his comically wiggling eyebrows and went back to eating her eclair.

“Do you even know if I’m her type?” If women were her type, was what this meant.

“My trusted source tells me so.”

He grabbed an olive and popped it into his mouth before leaning forward, his forearms resting on the table. There was a playful glint in his eyes.

“She’s in her late twenties, work as an investigative journalist – so smart, without a doubt, and with a touch of boldness. According to what I’ve read of her, she seems to have her heart in the right place too - you should see what she writes about Bradley’s administration. I didn’t even think it was legal to print this kind of thing!”

Riza hummed noncommittally. So far, so good.

“And I haven’t even got to the best part,” Roy continued, raising his index for emphasis. “My trusted source tells me she has not one, but two dogs.”

Riza raised an eyebrow. “Two? Sounds like a lot to handle,” she replied, keeping her tone neutral.

He smirked. “But you’re not the type to back down from a challenge, are you, Lieutenant?”

Riza sighed. She had forgotten how persistent Roy could be when he had good intentions. “God, you sound like your sisters right now.” A doubt crossed her mind, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Did your sisters had something to do with this?”

Roy leaned back in his chair. “She goes to the same hairdresser as Bianca,” he admitted shamelessly. “They’re friends.”

“You are impossible,” Riza said with a half-smile, shaking her head. “I’ll think about it.” Roy nodded, apparently satisfied, while she grabbed the last piece of bread from the plate. “But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“I haven’t seen you with Madeline for a while.”

“Oh, well…” Roy looked away, his expression growing more somber. “Things were starting to get too serious between us. She wanted to move in with me.”

Riza felt her teasing smile fade off. “So, you broke it off?”

“No,” he replied a bit defensively, “we had a conversation about it like mature adults. I told her how I really feel about…all of that. And she decided to end it.”

It wasn’t the first time she had heard that story. Riza felt a pang of sympathy for him. “I’m sorry about that, Colonel.”

He shrugged it off, trying to appear casual. “It’s alright. I had a feeling it would end this way.”

Around them, the crowd had begun to dissipate, as guests wandered outside to enjoy the cool night air. Riza spotted two unopened beers lying on a table nearby that was now empty and got up to get them.

"You know," she said as she sat back down, placing one of the bottles in front of Roy, "there are plenty of women who would be happy with a casual relationship, no string attached."

“Trust me, Lieutenant, I am aware,” he replied with a smirk. “And I’ve had my share of that in the past. But I’m almost thirty, now; I’m not a young man anymore.” He popped the beer cap off on the edge of the table – his favorite party trick – and took a swig. “It’s only natural to seek something a bit more meaningful, someone with which I can drop the act.”

Riza raised an eyebrow as she searched through her purse for keys. “So, you want a serious emotional relationship with none of the practical aspect? Seems to me like you want to have the cake and eat it too.” She finally founded them and opened her own beer with a flick of the wrist.

Roy frowned. “Well, you seem to manage to get exactly that. You were with Rose for what, 2 years? Without any talk of moving, marriage, kids or whatnot.”

Riza gave him a flat look. “Yes, because if we had done anything like that and someone found out, she would have lost her teaching position – and I would have risked getting kicked out of the military. That’s hardly a pleasant reason.”

“Of course,” he nodded, “you’re right. But in our case, you have to agree that it is convenient. “

Riza hummed reluctantly. It was, in a way: she never had had to reveal the real reason why she didn’t want to  - or couldn’t - commit too firmly to a relationship. She was grateful for that; even among her most trusted partners, there weren't many who would have understood.

“But all is not lost!” Roy said after a moment, pulling Riza out of her thoughts. He set his bottle on the table with determination. “I have decided to try a new approach to dating, one that I think is promising.”

Riza looked at him, tilting her head with curiosity.

“I’m going incognito.”

She took a sip of beer. “Interesting. Any alias?”

He crossed his arms, musing. “Think I’ll stick to Roy. Just Roy, a simple guy looking for someone to spend the weekends with, without getting too engaged in each other lives. I’m sure some women are looking for that.”

“It will be a bit harder without your whole “Flame Alchemist” thing going on, though,” Riza notes, amused.

“I know,” he smirked, “but that’s the fun of it. You see, with my reputation, I can easily sway the most exquisite women in Central – except one, that is.“ Riza rolled her eyes at his sideways glance. “But the kind of women that are interested in me rarely is the one I’d like to end up with. In fact,” he chuckled somberly, “if someone falls for my “lazy, arrogant Hero of Ishval” persona, either they’re in it only for the prestige or they’re a terrible judge of character.”

Riza nodded slowly. “An unfortunate consequence of your strategy.” There was a short silence. Then she propped her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow on the table, and let out a teasing smile. “At any rate, I am looking forward to seeing how this will turn out. If only to know if you’re half as good as a seducer as you’ve always claimed to be.”

That made Roy laugh, throwing his head back. He looked at her with a fond expression, the type he only had after a few drinks. “You know, I’ll never get over how unfortunate it is that I’m not your type.”

She smirked. “I think it makes everything a lot simpler, actually.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But the best things in life rarely are the simple ones.”

Riza chuckled, and the two fell into a comfortable silence as they worked on finishing their beers. They were lukewarm, and not of the highest quality, but that didn’t matter - this was a night for familiarity and comfort, not luxury.

Suddenly, something in the room caught Roy's attention.

"Oh - I think I just saw her!" He craned his neck, looking at something behind Riza.

"Her?"

"The journalist. Come on!" Roy was already on his feet, motioning for her to get up.

Riza frowned as she pushed her chair back. "You mean she's here?"

Roy turned back toward her. "Do you think I would have told you all this if she wasn't? You underestimate my organizational skills, Lieutenant." She snorted, but let the comment slide. "By the way - have you seen what was on the news about Major Kingsman's trial?"

Riza tried to remember what she had read in the newspaper the previous Sunday. "I've skimmed through it, yes..."

"That'll do." He maneuvered between the tables, heading toward a woman who had just stopped by the buffet - or what was left of it. "Ms. Delacroix! We were just talking about you! I would like you to meet Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye - she's the subordinate I was telling you about."

The woman turned in their direction and smiled as she recognized the Colonel. Her outfit was simple but elegant, a linen shirt with a low-cut neckline and flowy black pants. Her brown hair fell down her back in a long braid, and her face was covered in freckles.

Riza felt like her jaw had just dropped. God. Did Roy even know how much she loved freckles?

The woman turned her attention to Riza as she came up beside them. "Yes, I remember! It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant."

Riza suppressed her sudden urge to rearrange her hair- which must have looked atrocious, after hours in those stuffy rooms - and stepped forward to shake her hand.

"The pleasure is mine, Ms. Delacroix," she replied warmly. For once, it really was.

"So," the woman began, looking at Riza with interest, "Colonel Mustang told me you had some questions about my recent article in The Central Times?

Riza swore internally. She made a mental note to take it up with him later. "That's right," she said with a small smile. "I'm afraid I'm not an expert in the subject, but your article certainly caught my curiosity."

Before Ms. Delacroix could respond, Roy glanced over his shoulder. "I'm afraid I heard someone call my name," he chimed in, not looking the least bit sorry. "I'll leave you ladies to it."

He bid them both goodbyes, bowing his head at Ms.Delacroix, and promptly walked away.

Over the journalist’s shoulder, Riza saw him look back after a few steps. He caught her gaze and gave her a satisfied grin, mouthing something.

"You're welcome."