[FMA] Drill Yard, Hawkeye/Mustang, G Title: Drill Yard Rating: G Word Count: ~750 A/N: Thanks to angstymcgoth for the beta; any remaining mistakes are my own. Prompt:Full Metal Alchemist, Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye, loyalty above and beyond the call of duty - "I'll respectfully ignore that order."
"I order you to go home."
"Would you like honey or sugar in your tea?"
"Fine, go wherever you want, just leave me alone."
"Honey, then. It'll be better for your throat in any case." Riza emptied the bag of groceries onto Roy's kitchen table, ignoring his mutinous face as he stood in the doorway.
This was the second day he'd been out sick, and she'd arrived today after work with an armful of paperwork to find him on the couch, surrounded by wads of handkerchiefs and looking miserable. Upon finding out he hadn't eaten a thing but crackers since the day before, she ducked out to the market, returning with chicken soup and tea.
She moved about his kitchen, finding a bowl and mug; he had no tea kettle, so she made do with two saucepans to heat the water and the soup.
The tea steeped as Roy sank into a chair at the kitchen table, grousing about the injustice of it all--a man shouldn't be bossed around in his own home, and just because he couldn't stand without getting lightheaded didn't mean he didn't deserve respect. He was a sick man, probably dying--she could have at least gotten him those chocolate chip walnut cookies while she was out, so he could actually enjoy his last hours--
Riza finally broke in, not bothering to look away as she carefully poured, using the back of a spoon to keep the dried lemon and herbs from going into the mug. "You have a cold, sir. A simple, everyday cold that should be out of your system in a matter of days. You are not dying, nor will this cause you any lasting injury. If you'd been eating and resting properly to begin with, you may well have recovered by now.
"So if I may use a phrase from the drill yard--you need to man up."
The kitchen was blessedly silent for a few moments as Riza finished preparing the tea and set it in front of him. "Oh my, First Lieutenant," Roy finally said, looking delighted. "What a filthy mouth you have."
Riza blinked, then smiled--that slow, full smile that only he ever got to see. "Drink your tea, sir," she said, turning back to the stove for the soup. "I'll be back for those papers tomorrow at lunch."
He blew on the tea. "You're not going to stand over me while I sign them?"
"Your illness warrants some consideration, Colonel." She set the soup in front of him, straightened, then saluted. "You shouldn't let this get cold."
"I wouldn't think of it, Hawkeye." He returned her salute, still seated. "Especially not after all your trouble."
Riza didn't quite snort as she walked to his front door. "If only you were always so considerate of my efforts. Be sure to lock this behind me."
She paused with one hand on the door, her eyes soft. "I hope to find you in better health tomorrow, sir."
"How can I not improve, with such good care?" he replied, sipping at his tea. "Go home, Lieutenant. I'll be fine until you return."
"Very well, then. Good night, Colonel."
Roy picked up one of the files even as the door closed behind her. She'd said his illness warranted some consideration…but if this was important enough for her to bring it to him while he was out sick, then these documents needed completing as soon as possible.
She’d barged into his home, invaded his kitchen, casually insulted both his manhood and his common sense…and somehow, in that way she had, managed to make him feel better than he had in days. It was all rather telling…although whether it was of her skill in managing him, or some secret need of his to be berated by beautiful women, he didn’t know. He supposed it didn't really matter.
Roy started on the soup, sighing as it soothed his scratchy throat. She was right; he should have done this sooner.
He opened the file and began to skim the first document. If he finished all his work and looked properly worn out and pathetic tomorrow when she stopped by again, he might get another meal out of this.
Maybe even cookies.
He began to read faster, a grin playing about his lips. Even when she wasn't here, she managed to motivate him. The woman was a marvel.