Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye (flame_queen) wrote in knowhereic, @ 2017-09-05 15:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | fullmetal alchemist: au: alphonse elric, fullmetal alchemist: canon: riza hawkeye, fullmetal alchemist: canon: roy mustang, the dresden files: canon: carlos ramirez |
Who: Carlos Ramirez, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye & Alphonse Elric.
What: Meet and greet!
When: Late afternoon
Where: Mess Hall, then Roy’s apartment
Rating: PG
Status: Log - Complete
Ed had needed a little time alone, it was something Riza could understand.. And, well, the Colonel had told her that he wanted to talk to Ed alone, so it had (of course) fallen to his subordinate to get Alphonse out of the apartment, so the two could have some one-on-one time. It’d only taken a few messages back and forth for her to convince Al to come with her to the mess hall. She wanted to get dinner for herself and the Colonel and.. she’d.. wanted... company? It honestly wasn’t very convincing, but at least the boy hadn’t questioned it and had simply come along like a good soldier. Maybe she should have just ordered him.. It may have been easier. Not that it was hard, really.. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t peak meal time, in fact the place was pretty much entirely empty, save for two people sitting in the back corner, eating quietly.. And the guy presently cooking up something that smelled amazing. Beside her, Alphonse’s stomach rumbled and the blonde woman looked aside at him. He was shorter than her by a good few inches, he was clearly younger (he looked younger by virtue of the fact he was in civilian clothes), and his hair was neatly braided. Riza had done it for him. And, after some reluctance on the blonde woman’s part, she had allowed Al to braid her hair, too. The pair of them honestly looked like they should have been related. It was hard to tell if she was the mother or the older sister, as her uniform gave her a bit of extra age, and Al looked a lot younger out of his. “Wow, that smells great.” The boy piped up as he came closer and looked over what the dark-haired man was cooking up. “Hi.” Not a single shy bone in his body. Edward had gotten all of those. Bronze eyes set onto the man and Al bounced a little on his toes in an eager way. It was the first time he’d come to the Mess Hall for food since getting here and it was honestly exciting for him. Everything was exciting for him. “I’m Alphonse.” Yes. Yes he was. Riza touched at her temple and managed a small smile for the poor man being subjected to the golden ray of sunshine that was Alphonse Elric. *** Carlos looked up at the greeting, then had to sort of crane for a better look, because he wasn’t that much taller than the woman and her daughter. Actually, he was slightly shorter than the blonde woman by an inch or two. The little girl- Oh. Not a girl. The braided hair threw him off, as did the youthful exuberance. “Hi,” he said lightly, tipping his chin in that way of greeting. “How’s it going?” Was this how Harry felt all the time? Towering over people? Because he was taller than Alphonse, but not by much. Still, it wasn’t something that happened every day! Carlos cracked a grin. “Hey, don’t worry,” he told the older woman when she looked hard pressed and slightly exhausted by the boy’s friendliness, “Ain’t no harm in saying hi. I’m Carlos,” he said, winking. He set the spatula down, reached out with both hands to brace against the counter and leaned into them, “What can I do for you today?” He was a cook. He liked cooking. His family owned a restaurant in Los Angeles and he cooked for them since he was about 13 years old. All homemade recipes and shit from scratch. Nowadays he mostly ran administrative shit, as the son with the legal documents it made it easier that way, but this? Being in a kitchen. It was something Carlos liked. “Just slow enough I can do whatever you want,” he said lightly again, “Just don’t go around telling everyone I’m playing favorites. Boss will get annoyed.” Carlos aspired to take that man’s job. Everyone needed a dream. *** “It’s great.” Alphonse replied without the slightest bit of hesitation. “Are you having a good day?” Nothing shy. Nothing at all. He could have walked up to a total stranger and started a .. oh. He had. Hah. “Hello, Carlos.” The blonde boy’s smile was infectious, so wide it actually caused his eyes to close as he beamed up at the man who was clearly so keen to make Al’s day great. He could use a good day. “What’s your favorite thing to make?” “Al, just order off the menu, you don’t need to do this to him.” Brown eyes came up to set onto the man behind the counter. “I’m sorry about this.” She hadn’t known Al too long, but she already knew exactly the sort of young man he was. More than that, she could remember the suit of armor vividly, and all the things Alphonse had said, or had hinted about, that he couldn’t do because of being stuck in that tin can.. And when the Lieutenant thought on that, it made her relax on this fleshy version. The youngest Elric deserved something nice, didn’t he? The boy seemed to deflate a little when the blonde woman rained on his parade, but he smiled across at Carlos, anyway. “I’ll take whatever’s easiest.” “And I’ll have two number fours.” For herself and Roy. She didn’t get one for Ed, she was well aware he was on an ‘Earth food’ kick, and York had been buying all of his meals for him since then. Really, she was thankful for the giant of a soldier, he’d been doing a pretty good job with the young Alchemist. “Thank you.” Politeness and manners, that was just Hawkeye’s way. “Do you want to join us?” Al prompted before Riza could haul him away. She let out a slow breath. *** She was a mean one, wasn’t she? Carlos’ brows shot up a bit when the woman shot the boy down. He knew what that was like, really, he couldn’t blame her. Everyone tried not to be a nuisance to people in foodservice, like it was an inconvenience if they were overly friendly. Carlos knew this from experience, he behaved the same way when he was out to eat and his server seemed a little harried. “It’s alright, he’s just being friendly,” Carlos said graciously, but nodded his head at her request. He’d memorized the menu, and turned to start the order, casting a happy smile back at the boy for his question, too. “I’d love to, but I’m working right now, probably ain’t a good idea if I stop in the middle of my shift, huh?” he said. “Don’t you worry though, you take it easy with your … uh,” his eyes tracked back to the woman, “... mom? I’ll make you something special.” And then, well, maybe he’d take lunch early and sit down to chat. Carlos was overly friendly, too. At least, right up until it was time to get down to business. Then he was all work and no play. *** Oh. Let those eyes dare to stop on the fierce, brown set of the woman he’d just called Alphonse’s mom. Her hand dropped to the weapon at her side and Alphonse had to reach out and catch her wrist, laughing nervously as he wrestled her hand away from her side-arm and nudged her down further, to get her away from Mr. Carlos. “He’s sixteen.” Riza managed to get out as she was pushed along. “I’m twenty-seven.” Thankfully, however, Al got her to a table and the two of them sat down to wait (okay, so ‘wait’ was a loose term for ‘calm down Riza so she didn’t shoot the nice cook in the throat with a .45 and then bury his body outside on the space head, where someone would inevitably find him and they would track the bullet back to Riza, who would be put on trial and found guilty and thrown into prison for the rest of her life, leaving Roy to wallow without the love of his life, which meant he’d never give Al and Ed the attention they needed and the two of them would go bad and turn to a life of crime, becoming cat-burglars who stole things in the night, but they’d be so good that the authorities would never catch them until they hired Harry, the most amazing PI ever, who would track them down but would feel just awful once he realized it was the Elric brothers, and once Ed and Al were put into prison [the same prison Riza was in, ironically], Harry would feel so terrible that he’d throw himself off a space-head cliff and Mouse would be left all alone and have to go into a shelter, where he’d die alone because no one wanted to clean up that much dog fur!’) so that poor Mouse wouldn’t have to die alone. He deserved better! Once the blonde woman was settled, Al made his way back over to lean against the counter and smile up at Carlos. “She’s going to wait over there so my friend Mouse doesn’t have to die alone in a shelter.” Um. Yeah. Don’t ask, Carlos, it just wasn’t a good idea. “I like cooking, too. Riza taught me.” The angry woman back at the table, who was staring unhappily at the cook who’d called her Mom. *** Oh, shit. Carlos blinked at the woman when she reached for her side arm. He was armed with a spatula, which wasn’t going to help. He could pull a shield that would disintegrate the bullet, but it’d also catch just about everything else in front of him too. Not a good idea. Luckily the boy intervened and was urging the woman away before she could contaminate the kitchen with the wizard’s blood. It occurred to him he’d offended her. But how was he supposed to know? They looked alike. Literally. Except for the eyes. Their hair was braided, they were blonde, and fair skinned in comparison to him. Jesus. Carlos shook his head slightly then chuckled. Oh, she didn’t wanna be called old. Gotcha. Women. He went back to cooking, laughing lightly to himself until the little boy popped back up. Mouse? His dark brows shot back up again, “Oh, he a dog?” he asked. ‘Die alone in a shelter’ sort of clued him into that. But, hey, you never knew in this place. “I know a guy that has a dog named Mouse. Pretty cool, kind of big though, old as a dinosaur,” he snickered. Harry was practically ancient to Carlos. His eyes swept back to the boy though, then jumped to the blonde again. Oh, shit. That was York’s crazy friend’s girlfriend. The one with the suicide pact. Damn. He’d never met her. He only knew her by reputation and mostly because York fawned all over how amazing she was every chance he got. If there was ever a man that waxed poetic about someone, it was definitely the giant soldier. Too bad she wasn’t his girlfriend. “What’s her problem?” Carlos asked Alphonse a beat later. *** Was Mouse a dog? Al’s eyes brightened and he nodded. “He’s huge, and really fluffy. And yeah-- Harry’s the guy who has him. He’s huge and super old.” Sorry, Harry. “But he’s really nice, when he’s not trying to be mean.” Al rocked onto his toes again, leaning his elbows on the counter before craning his head back to look at Riza, who had finally settled enough to take out her tablet and start flipping through the day’s events. “Oh. I bet she didn’t like that you called her my mom when she’s way too young to actually be my mom. Women don’t like that.” Bronze eyes turned back around onto Carlos and Alphonse gave him an understanding smile. “And she’s sort of dealing with a lot right now. I know I’m causing her a lot of problems..” His toe scraped the ground lightly. “She’s been having some trouble dealing with Roy lately, they haven’t said anything about it, but they don’t need to. When they stand next to one another, she stands like three inches further than she normally does, and he looks at her for longer than normal, and when she sits near him now, she doesn’t turn her chair slightly towards his. I think he probably told her that he loves her and she doesn’t know what to say, since he’s her superior officer and she’s a big stickler for the rules.” The blonde boy shrugged up his shoulders some. “They’ll figure it out.” Who in the fuck was this kid? “She’s actually really nice, if you give her a chance and can get past the fact she’s got a no-nonsense personality. Are you sure you can’t join us for lunch? When do you get a break? It’d be really great, I think she needs other adult friends. I can be a lot to handle,” no kidding, “And I think dealing with Ed, too, is going to make her start unloading that side-arm... and she’s a really good shot.” His eyebrows went up. The connotation was clear: If you had lunch with them, Riza wouldn’t murder anyone. Win-win. Right? Alphonse smiled brightly. *** Carlos wondered briefly if Alphonse had met York’s Delta, because they had that shared habit of sharing way too much information. That was awkward as fuck. Carlos stared at him for a moment then cracked his casual, cocky grin. “I mean, that sounds like a lot,” he provided generously. “I’d probably be pretty annoyed too if I had all that on my plate. It’s alright though, I ain’t offended.” She hadn’t actually shot him, which was nice. Being shot sucked, Carlos knew this from experience. His eyes drifted back to the woman, then fixed on the boy again. He raised a hand in a ‘one moment’ sort of gesture, then ducked back through a door behind him to fetch what passed as dessert on the floating space head. Coming back out, he plated it quietly, then passed it over the counter to Alphonse. “You go give her that, let me finish up here so you can eat, then I’ll come sit and have a chat for a few. Sounds cool?” He paused for confirmation, then winked. Left undisturbed for several long minutes, Carlos could actually whip up the food the pair of blondes had ordered. Two of the same meal for Riza Hawkeye and something special for Alphonse. Carlos was quick about it, before the woman decided her dessert was worth unloading her side arm into the blonde so she could eat it all by herself. Then, hollering something in Spanish back at his co-worker, Carlos pulled his apron off over his head and stepped out of the kitchen, carrying the prepped meals over to the table Alphonse and Riza were occupying. “Hi,” he said to Riza, “I’m sorry, I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Carlos Ramirez, kid here tells me you’re Lieutenant Hawkeye, I think we spoke briefly on the network when I arrived.” He placed their food on the table and held out his hand. “I wanted to apologize for offending you.” Carlos was good people. *** Alphonse smiled brightly when the dessert was passed over and he dutifully took it to the blonde woman and sat down beside her, then put the plate down, briefly explaining Carlos, the nice cook, wanted her to try it. Riza had given him a slightly skeptical look, but would take a bite. Wow, okay, it wasn’t bad. She even allowed Alphonse to have a small bite, but not much because his lunch was coming. Both blonde heads lifted as the man was suddenly shouting something in another language, but Al was smiling by the time Carlos came over with their food (Riza’s both in boxes and inside a bag, and the boy’s on a plate). “What language was that?” He questioned as he took his plate and immediately started digging in. Riza took a few more slow bites of her dessert before those darker eyes turned to her own dark set and she was forced to put the fork down. “The Warden, right? I remember you. It’s nice to meet you in person. And it’s fine, I’m only not used to being referred to as anyone’s mother.” Especially not a sixteen year old boy, though she could see this man guessing Al was closer to fourteen and herself closer to thirty. Having to herd cats (read: Colonel Roy Mustang) all day did that to a woman, after all. “Lieutenant Hawkeye, yes.” The sniper’s hand came out to accept the cook’s, but as she shook it, her eyes lowered. She could feel the calluses there, along the fingers, the inside of the knuckles, and the meat of the thumb. That was an unusual place. “You’re a swordsman.” She remarked before releasing his hand. It made Al’s eyes leap up and set onto the man as he slurped up his noodles, staring intently. Really? *** “Spanish,” Carlos said brightly, “Guy don’t speak a lick of it but he called me a rude name the first time I spoke to him so now I only talk to him in Spanish,” Carlos jerked a thumb back at the cook that had taken his place. Could he be petty? 100%. “Yes, ma’am,” Carlos replied, “Warden Ramirez, though here I’m just Ramirez. Ain’t no need for Wardens here, not my world to police.” The Laws he was tasked with upholding didn’t apply here, though he’d keep an eye on those that came from his world. Other than that? Carlos was just a cook and his cloak was tucked safely away until the day he went back home to Los Angeles. He shook Hawkeye’s hand, smiling brightly. She had a firm handshake. That was good. Carlos was used to women who could kick your ass. Captain Luccio may be a short, cute chick no older than Riza Hawkeye by appearance, but he was never under any doubt that she could put him six feet underground in minutes. You didn’t become Captain of the Wardens by collecting bottle caps. “Pleasure to meet you. Mind if I sit down?” he asked. Then he grinned his cocky grin and nodded once, simply. “Something like that. I ain’t a master swordsman by any means, but I know how to use it.” He was young for a wizard. A veritable child to their eyes, with more experience under his belt than many even Harry’s age. Baptized in fire, Carlos’ formative years from 16 to his early 20s had been a long, drawn out war. His eyes said as much, but he still somehow smiled and laughed his way through things. He was good, and he had a good head on his shoulders. *** Right. Warden Ramirez. She remembered him now. When she released his hand she gestured to the empty seat. “Yes, please.” It was plain to see she was a formal sort, nothing like the boy settled beside her, content to eat his food while his Lieutenant (was it weird that he was higher ranking than she was? Yes. Yes, it was) made her introductions. “Well, it’s a very valuable skill. You’re a wizard, isn’t that correct?” The word ‘wizard’ got Alphonse’s attention again, but he thankfully remained quiet while the adults spoke. He wasn’t trying to turn Carlos into his friend (oh, who was he kidding, he wanted to be this man’s friend, too! Why couldn’t he just be friends with everyone? The world would be a much better place), he was trying to give Riza someone to talk to, who wasn’t physically sixteen. Or mentally sixteen. Ahem. Respectfully, the blonde woman moved her boxed food out of the way, to the center of the table, so it wouldn’t be a barrier between herself and the man who’d just joined them. Alright, maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all. He’d seen the error of his ways and he’d apologized, which made him mature. And there was just something about his eyes.. He looked older, somehow. But he had a good smile, a real smile, and when the Lieutenant looked at him she didn’t sense any deceit. Alright, maybe he could stay. For a bit. *** Carlos took a seat, placing his elbows on the table and leaning forward on them. He might be respectful, but he hadn’t grown up with the strict background and polite manners of other people. Besides, he was young. He was younger than Hawkeye (Haha!) by a slim year, but younger was younger. Even though they had the same kind of eyes. “It sure is. It was required learning but as a kid, let me tell you, having a sword is awesome. I got it when I was fourteen,” The year after Luccio had recruited him into the Wardens alongside a bevy of other children she’d prepared for war. Most of them were dead now. “And that too is correct, I am a wizard. I make that shit look so easy,” he said, and cast his cocksure grin at Alphonse. “I definitely make Harry look bad. He’s another wizard here, friend of mine. Technically my equal, but seeing as I am me, nobody can live up to that.” So he was a cocky bastard. At least he could back it up with action. *** “I know Mr. Harry.” Al offered at the very same time Hawkeye was answering with, “I’ve met Mr. Dresden.” The two were quiet a second, then looked at one another. Alphonse smiled and Riza just let out a slow breath through her nose, bringing those brown eyes back to Carlos. “Colonel Mustang has a lab on Mr. Dresden’s property, where he practices his Alchemy.” Alchemy, of course. Had York told Carlos about that? The Lieutenant doubted it, it wasn’t what defined Roy to York, he was a soldier and a superior officer before he was an Alchemist and she imagined that was what the giant soldier would say first about him. Sometimes, Hawkeye was sure she was the only person on this head who was.. Er.. normal. Was that wrong of her to think? No magic. No alchemy. No AI in her brain. She was just.. Riza Hawkeye. She wasn’t anything special at all and she was very good at being nothing special, it was her job to blend in. And she did it well. “I’m aware that Mr. Dresden specializes in fire.” It was something that didn’t sit well with her, but.. There was nothing to be done about it. “Do you have a specialty, Warden?” *** Mr. Harry. Kid was cute. Carlos looked at Alphonse and smiled slightly. But his eyes moved back to Hawkeye, carefully avoiding making eyecontact with her. The same way Harry did. Weird wizards and their strange habits. But whatever, it added to the mystery of their lives. Not that Carlos cloaked himself in it as much as Harry did. Harry was willing to let people’s imaginations about what wizards could do determine how they responded to them. Carlos tended to be more honest about it. “Alchemy?” he questioned. “I’ve never met anyone that did it, though I’ve heard about it.” It wasn’t his specialty or his area of the world. But he was a Warden of the White Council, of course he knew shit. “There’s a secret society or some shit that keeps trying to make a Philosopher’s Stone.” He shook his head. “People are crazy.” Not to mention that went against laws of nature. Creepy times a hundred. “Harry? Yeah, he’s kind of an idiot about fire. I saw him-” He paused, frowning. A gang of ghouls had invaded their training grounds a few years ago, a pair of 16 year old twins had been taken, ripped apart and eaten by one ghoul in the 8 minutes it took Carlos and Harry to find them. Harry had set fire to the marrow in the ghoul’s body. It had died screaming. Carlos remembered that clearly. Harry was a good person, but sometimes he was fucking scary. And cold. And ugly. “Anyway. Uh, I specialize in water,” he replied, smiling again. “It’s cleansing magic. Entropy. Harry’s all about mass destruction. But me? I’m all about cleansing.” Fitting, probably. Carlos was Harry’s foil in just about everything they did. His opposite. The young Warden shrugged. *** This Warden sounded like Alphonse. Harry reminded Hawkeye of Edward. Her eyes passed from Carlos to the boy who was watching him curiously. He was uncharacteristically quiet. She was pretty sure she knew why. “I believe Alphonse has some experience with the Philosopher's Stone?” Blonde eyebrows lifted, prompting the boy that he should say something. Get involved in the discussion. Al looked at her and she nodded to indicate it was alright. Bronze eyes came back to the far darker set of the Warden, locking there and refusing to move. Al always looked everyone in the eye, even if they didn’t look back. “Yes, it.. Was something I dealt with.” He admitted with a little smile and a shrug of his shoulder. “I’m an Alchemist. I specialize in air. My friend Roy--” He took a quick glance at Riza before correcting himself, clearing his throat slightly, “Lt. General Mustang, he specializes in fire. It can get pretty destructive, too. I use most of mine defensively, or to aide Roy with his.” His little smile was creeping wider. “And Colonel Hawkeye taught me to use a sword. I’m not great with it, but I’m still learning. If you had any time, I’d love for you to take a look at my technique? Maybe you could give me some pointers. And maybe teach me some words in Spanish.” A nerd. The boy was a nerd. Just like this brother, he wanted every book he could get his hands on, he wanted to learn it all. He wanted to master it all. And this revelation left Riza staring at him, almost in awe. She was beyond pleased. *** Carlos shifted his gaze just slightly away from Alphonse’s, his dark brows lifting a little. “Oh? That’s cool! I don’t know what alchemy is for, really, but it must be neat. I can’t do much with air, myself, it’s not my skillset though water is between both earth and air.” You’d think he’d have an affinity for either of those magics, but he didn’t. It was alright though, because what he could do was fucking awesome. Carlos’ smile brightened a little more and he nodded. Who the fuck was this kid, even? He was cute in that sort of young, precocious way (though, if we were honest Carlos didn’t know the meaning of the word precocious). But man. It was alright though, Carlos was used to chatty little cousins. He had about ten of them at home. It was cool, Alphonse would be the pale, blonde version of them as far as Carlos was concerned. “Sure,” he said, laughing. “You know the best way to learn a language is to learn the dirty words first.” Dirty? “The curse words,” he corrected. “Er---the cuss words,” ‘Curse’ words were entirely different in meaning when a wizard said that. “And then maybe you can show me what’s up with air, cause I ain’t ever seen it used in defense before. That’s gotta be hell of awesome.” *** Brown eyes fell onto Carlos with a flat, disapproving look. Roy knew every one of her silent glares and what every one of them meant. Carlos wasn’t nearly as versed in Riza-Glares, but he’d be thrown to the fire and he’d learn quickly if he knew what was good for him. Certainly her hard stares rivaled those of the woman who’d taught him everything he knew. And if he’d learned hers? Well, Hawkeye’s wouldn’t be that hard to interpret. Do. Not. Teach a sixteen year old boy swear words in a different language. Especially when he looked (and acted) like Alphonse Elric. She would end you. Al, oblivious to this glaring, would smile and nod. Sure! Cuss words, it sounded great! Roy and Riza never let him.. His eyes trailed to the blonde beside him... then back to the Warden and he shook his head a little, looking suitably scared for his life. Maybe not the best idea after all. “I’d be really happy to show you my Alchemy.” To hear him say that was strange for Riza, who was so used to all Alchemists being these.. Secretive lunatics. Where everything was coded, and coded again, and hidden, and locked up, and then they never wanted to demonstrate to one another. What was the point of it all? Well, at least she could understand, in Mustang’s case. “Another time.” The Sniper told him with a nod. “We need to be going. Thank you very much for your hospitality, Warden, and your kindness.” With that, the Lieutenant was standing and Alphonse stood up shortly after. “Thank you.” He presented his hand again, eagerly. *** Carlos was immune to Hawkeye’s glaring, or maybe he just didn’t have enough experience with it, because when she glared he immediately grinned and held up both his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, that’s how I learned English, it’s how I learned Latin. And let me tell you, Latin gets really fucking funny when you try to say mean things. You start sounding like the Exorcist and shit.” They wouldn’t know what that was, but apparently it amused the crap out of the wizard because he chuckled. Then the pair were standing and the Warden got to his feet, too. He took Alphonse’s hand, and that dull wash over his senses sent a little chill down his spine so he shivered slightly. The telltale sign someone was a practitioner of an art. He hadn’t felt it with Hawkeye. She was just a normal human. With a very scary trigger finger, apparently. “No problem,” he said brightly. “Thanks for making lunch interesting.” Not that he’d eaten anything. Oh well. He’d get something together for himself later. “Have a good day,” he said politely, raising a hand in playful salute. Then they were going and Carlos went back to work. Knowhere sure collected a lot of weird people. *** It was impossible for Riza to miss the way the dark Warden shivered, she was pretty sure Al had missed it, but nothing got past those Hawk’s Eyes. They lingered on the man a moment before she nodded, setting a hand to Alphonse’s back and steering him out of the mess hall, taking her meal and Roy’s meal along with her. A detour to drop Al off at home (York was already gone off to work, but he’d left Ed with food, so she wasn’t concerned), then the Lieutenant was on her way to see the Colonel. It didn’t take long to get to his apartment and she was knocking lightly and in a particular pattern on his door. It was her. That was what her knock told the man inside. Sure, she had a key, but she never used it. Not unless she thought he’d be sleeping, or she knew he wasn’t home. If he was? Well, she always did the polite thing, like now, and waited outside. The meal hung from her fingers in the canvas bag, dark eyes turned forward onto the door expectantly. Hopefully he was home from having dropped off everything at Ed’s apartment. He hadn’t been there when she showed up, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t taken a.. Detour to somewhere less savory. She didn’t even want to think about it. *** He wasn’t home. Because he was coming up the stairs behind her several long moments after the door failed to open. Roy paused at the end of the hallway, a slow smile spread across his face and he raised a brow. “You have a key,” he said mildly, announcing his presence though she’d have heard him coming long before. She was eerily skilled at listening and discerning noises you’d never expect. Always on alert. But she was an expert marksman, she noticed everything about her surroundings all the time. Still, Roy pressed in close and reached for the door before she could get chivalrous and open it for him. He unlocked it and pushed it open, stepping inside first because of ingrained habit. “Have fun?” he asked. Alphonse was something else entirely. Roy had yet to spend time alone with him. *** “I do, sir.” She agreed, but she never turned to look at him. She didn’t need to. She could judge where he was by the sound of his footsteps and the volume of his voice. Riza knew Roy intimately (not like that! ... Okay, like that, but only once!) and that meant she knew all things about him. He knew nothing about her but that had never bothered the sniper. It would probably stay like that the rest of their lives. At least now he knew that she was the General’s granddaughter, the man who could certainly become Fuhrer, were anything to happen to the man currently in that position. So that was something, right? Don’t think about it, Hawkeye. He opened the door and stepped inside. She followed. The door closed behind and the Lieutenant was moving to start unpacking their meals. How funny, that no one in this place ever seemed to cook. But really, who had time for it? Hawkeye didn’t often have much time to waste on that sort of thing. “Alphonse is.. A very surprising young man. And we met another wizard today, by the name of Carlos Ramirez. He’s a Warden and he’s friends with Mr. Dresden.” Of course, Roy already knew the man, didn’t he? Not that Hawkeye realized the man Roy told her about weeks ago was the same man she’d spoken to on the network, and just today. *** Speaking of keys. Roy reached into his pocket and produced the key to Ed’s apartment. “Keep this,” he said, “make a copy of it. It’s to Edward’s apartment. And no, I didn’t take it from him. He gave it to me.” After Roy had demanded it. But that was just the details. He set it on the table where Hawkeye was unloading boxed foods. Roy took the moment to unbutton his military coat, shrugging out of it then lazily dropping it over the back of the nearest chair. His eyes drifted to Hawkeye. Did he know Carlos Ramirez? The idiot wizard that was friends with the idiot York. Yeah he knew him. He tried forgetting the day he’d met him and the events that unfolded there. Roy’s eyes dropped to Hawkeye’s midsection suddenly and narrowed a degree. It was hard to tell in her uniform, but she didn’t appear to be gaining weight. Enough time had passed that signs would be showing, right? He should ask a woman. He just didn’t know enough of them. Well, okay, he knew a lot of women, just none he’d ask questions like that. Roy pushed a hand through his hair. Why was this so complicated? “How’s Alphonse?” That was the safe discussion topic anyway. “Ed took the bait,” he sounded amused as he said it. “I’m sure he’ll be exceptionally gifted at the task, but I hope it frustrates him just a little.” *** He was staring at her. It wasn’t that unusual. Hawkeye didn’t bother to look over and find out which part of her body he was staring at, it didn’t much matter. It was probably her breasts. Men. She set Mustang’s food down for him, there on the table, then collected his key and slipped it into her pocket. She would make a copy and return this one to her Colonel, she didn’t even need to acknowledge it, he knew it would be done. “He seems to be adjusting well enough. He’s one of the most friendly people I’ve ever met, he reminds me of--” Hughes. Her hand paused. After a second, she took out the next box. “He’s very friendly. He’s very open about his use of Alchemy. And he seems to have an unhealthy attachment to Edward.” By virtue of the fact he’d looked back at the apartment several times before he’d actually made it to the stairs so they could head down to the bottom level. “I think he’s desperately looking for what he lost, I’m a little concerned about what will happen when he realizes he won’t find it here.” Finally, brown eyes came to meet the darker set of the Colonel’s. “Would you like tea with lunch, sir?” Lunch that was late enough it may as well have been dinner. Still. *** Roy paused, too. He knew what she was about to say. He was glad she didn’t. It would have just made him angry. Instead, he sank down into the chair at the table and actually seemed to take an interest in the food today. It was always unpredictable what his mood about anything would be. One moment he was agreeable and the next he wasn’t. No wonder Hawkeye was looking a little worn. After years of doing it, she was either entirely unphased or just stopped caring. Roy peered at her briefly. “I told him the same thing. That he’s going to be very disappointed by us sometimes, probably quite often. He assured me he’d be fine, that he was stronger than I assumed. I think it’s wrong to pretend to be the people he lost by coming here, so he’s just going to have to figure it out like the rest of us.” They were all equally lost as to what to do about the situation. Did he want tea? Was she asking because she wanted some-- No, she wasn’t one of those confusing women that went about things sideways. “Yes,” he said, anyway. Just in case. Besides, it would pair well with dinner. And she made it well. *** She didn’t just make it well, Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was the best when it came to tea or coffee. Many an officer had come in and wanted to know who had made the tea Roy had in his office. The Colonel had never told them and no one had ever suspected it was the stern blonde woman who would shoot them as soon as look at them. It was for the best, of course. She hadn’t wanted to be seen as a woman, but as a soldier, and Mustang had always backed her on that. Except, of course, where he was concerned. And mini-skirts, because who didn’t like mini-skirts? “He seems fragile.” She admitted as she passed by her superior officer and headed into his kitchen. “But there are times, when he says something, or the way he looks at me.” That blonde head shook just slightly. “I could believe that he’s stronger than he seems.” But the jury was still out. He was only a child, one who’d been through a few serious traumas, and now this. At least Ed had herself and the Colonel. Alphonse, for some reason, seemed worse off. No one he knew, not really. His dead brother now standing in front of him. And the Lieutenant knew Ed wouldn’t handle this very well. He’d do the best he could, but he too was only a child. Neither one could be expected to handle this like adults. Riza filled the kettle and set it on the stove, then turned it on to allow it to begin heating while she brought cups and saucers down, and began to ready the tea. *** Roy waited for Hawkeye to return with the tea. It was the polite thing to do, and after years of steady habits, he generally didn’t begin eating without her if they were sharing a meal. A lot of the time she stood over him and made sure he ate something, but sometimes she sat down and ate with him. Like now. So he waited and contemplated the issue of Alphonse Elric. Was he fragile? Sure, he was a broken, traumatized child looking for connection and community among a group of virtual strangers. He knew them, but he didn’t know them. He was alone in the wild, facing shades of people that mattered to him. Roy frowned at the idea. What would he do with a Hawkeye that didn’t know him so well or knew him better? He looked up at the woman when she finally returned, her wonderful tea coming with her. “Then I suppose we’ll protect him,” he said quietly, continuing the conversation as if they hadn’t left off. She’d pick right back up like there was no interlude, too. “I just need to get Edward off the ground, then I can worry about his brother.” If Ed did well enough on his own, Roy could leave him alone. He could trust him to York’s hands more as it was. York was doing well with him. Roy met Riza’s eyes. *** Slowly sitting down, her own tea in hand, Riza met her superior’s eyes steadily. “You don’t have to take on this burden, sir.” Alphonse, she meant. “And if you do choose to take it, you don’t have to do it alone.” She was there to help. York, of course, who had been handling the youngest Elric since he arrived, while Roy and Riza floundered with what the Hell to do with a boy they’d never seen before. A boy who wanted to stand close, who wanted to touch, and hug, but had only ever been a giant suit of armor to them. They’d never really considered that Al had needed the sort of attention Ed did, because of the way he looked. And Hawkeye was suddenly very ashamed of that. He’d been fourteen. Fourteen. But he hadn’t been their responsibility. “If you chose to leave him in York’s hands, no one would think any less of you for it.” Except perhaps Ed.. but then, it wasn’t like Ed’s opinion could get much worse. And she might even say that Ed’s opinion didn’t matter to the Colonel, but that was a bold-faced lie. “You should eat, sir. It’s getting cold.” With that, the blonde was turning back to her food, brown eyes dropping her attention there. *** Alone? Of course not. He was surrounded by a handful of people ready to make themselves useful. He collected them for a reason. Sure, that reason wasn’t to formulate a community capable of raising a helpless child, but still. If they had to be involved in that, they would. But he also knew what Hawkeye meant when she said that. Because he did tend to think of his subordinates as entirely his responsibility. He’d throw himself onto the fire for them in a heartbeat and think the decision was sound all the while he burned. He if chose to leave him with York, Alphonse would be crushed. Ed would get over it in a couple of years. His argumentative attitude was already at its peak, it couldn’t get worse. If Roy abandoned them to York entirely, who could blame him? But that wasn’t in Mustang’s character. He took his responsibilities seriously if it didn’t involve military administration and endless hours behind a desk. The Colonel peered at Hawkeye for a while longer, then he too began eating. It was a lot to consider. *** No, it wasn’t in his character, she knew it. He knew it. But the out had been given, even if he didn’t want to take it. Silence fell around them, the Lieutenant apparently having used up her quota of words for the day. Besides, there wasn’t anymore to say. Sure, they could have talked about the kiss.. Or the incredibly unexpected sex that had followed, or the fact that it’d pretty obviously been her first time, even though she was twenty-seven, and that she’d given that experience to him, on a couch. Or the fact he’d said he loved her. Twice now. Or even the fact she’d said she loved him, though it’d been under slightly different terms. There was tons to say, tons to talk about, but Hawkeye would let it all be drown in the silence if she could. She would let it crumble and fall away as if it’d never happened at all, she’d been clear about her commitment to him. His goals and his plan came first, they would get him to Fuhrer and she’d be there behind him the whole way. And once he had the office? Well, he’d need someone to keep him safe, and who better than her? And after that.. Well. They wouldn’t have long to live after that, there was no use in getting married. No use in trying to have a family. It would just be a cruel form of torture, that wasn’t something either one of them needed. It was better to be nothing at all. One of them had to stay strong. *** Their meal was shared in silence, and it wasn’t a silence of threes. For once it was just the silence of two people consuming food while they considered the bigger things. A mix of large and small concerns. It was probably the most human and simple act one could undergo, it was certainly the most calm and rational that Mustang had been all week. He had good days and he had bad days. His bad days just tended to be more frequent. But eventually, Mustang finished, his appetite sated, the rumble in his tummy quieted. His tea had cooled, but what was the point of doubling as the world’s most terrifying weapon if he couldn’t heat a cup of tea for himself? That white glove on his hand, he rolled his thumb slowly against his forefinger for the subtle friction, no snap of ignition or from his fingers, but the cup did warm and the liquid inside, too. Master of his craft. Heated cup in hand, Mustang sat back in his chair and took a moment to appreciate the fantastic tea Hawkeye had brewed herself. “So what now?” he asked, behind the rim of the mug. *** Brown eyes, which had seen such destruction and devastation come from those gloves-- those hands-- didn’t even flinch when she watched him pull on the white ignition fabric. Why would she? She trusted Mustang with everything she was and everything she would be. The Lieutenant watched as that thumb slid along forefinger and warmed up the tea, her face softening for the act. Her own tea, which had cooled as well, was extended out silently for the Flame Alchemist to repeat the action. When he did, and her own tea was warm again, the blonde woman gave her superior officer a slight nod. So what now? It wasn’t often her call, unless it was a matter of his safety, so why was he asking her now? It was just the two of them, sharing tea as their plates sat in wait there on the table. What now? Taking a terminal sip of her tea, the sniper finally sat it back down on the table and stood. “Now I clean up, you get back to deciding what we’re going to do with Alphonse Elric, and we’ll speak more on the matter later.” Once they both had a better understanding of what was going on. Collecting up her own carton, she was soon reaching out for the one in front of Roy. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done this a hundred times before, but somehow it felt just a little different today. She tried to ignore the feeling. “His gloves are made from ignition fabric, too. Did you know?” Maybe conversation would keep Mustang quiet, odd as that sounded. *** Go back to contemplating an issue he hadn’t had the faintest idea how to solve. Though the answer seemed so simple. Take care of Alphonse Elric. The problem was the execution; how was Roy Mustang supposed to care for a child he knew nothing about? The boy was expecting someone else and Mustang could never be the man Alphonse knew. Would it hurt more than it would help? He didn’t know. Roy’s dark eyes followed Hawkeye’s movements as she collected their waste, moving up slowly to her face. Al’s gloves. Roy quirked a brow. “He said we-” He frowned, “His General and he worked together. It’s a terrifying idea; kid specializes in air and wind.” Mix fire into the equation, Alphonse could either be Roy’s greatest foil, or his most prized tool. What was Mustang of that world thinking? *** What was Mustang of that world thinking? Perhaps if he would allow Alphonse to show him what he could do. Perhaps if he spent just one hour working with the boy, he’d know what that General had been thinking, because surely he would think it, too. Because if Mustang was working with the boy so closely, so intimately, and brought him onto the battlefield to stand at his side, it wasn’t to foil the day’s work-- it was to be a most needed and wanted tool. It was because he valued the boy, he trusted the boy, and he knew that like his brother, Alphonse could handle himself. Except Ed hadn’t been able to handle himself. He’d died. Under Mustang’s watch. In Mustang’s care. It was something neither the Lieutenant nor Colonel had considered yet.. They knew that Ed had died, but neither really knew the circumstances. Neither knew that Alphonse had seen it, that he’d screamed and thrashed and had been helpless to do anything, while being held down by Envy’s power, because his specialty wasn’t nearly as destructive as his brother or his superior. Neither knew that Mustang had seen it, that he’d been running towards the pair of brothers and shouting, demanding that Ed run-- that he move-- that he do something other than stand there and let himself be sacrificed for his little brother. Neither knew that Ed hadn’t even breathed his last before Mustang had managed to take on the Homunculi and put it out of commission, and that Alphonse had been able to hold onto his brother as he’d died in his arms. Neither knew that if Ed hadn’t offered himself up, that if he hadn’t thrown his arms open and told Envy to take him instead, that Al would be the one who’d been killed. That the mere ten seconds that his sacrifice had taken, had saved his brother’s life. That if Mustang had been ten seconds later, both brothers would be dead. It had been a perfect storm. Edward had known Mustang was coming. He’d believed it, he’d trusted it, and he knew he only had to stall just a little bit longer and he’d be able to save Al. And he had. Mustang had followed through, also. One life for another. Equal exchange, that was what Ed had told Alphonse in his final breaths. Neither Roy nor Riza knew that Mustang had needed to hold his young charge back in strong arms as the authorities had shown up to clean up the mess, and had taken the body of Edward Elric away from his little brother. Neither understood how utterly helpless and useless and worthless Alphonse had felt as he’d had to watch his brother murdered just feet away from him, unable to do anything at all. But the now-General had. He’d seen it. He’d borne witness to those lifeless golden eyes, he’d seen bronze eyes mirror the look. He’d watched Alphonse die alongside Edward and Mustang had done whatever was necessary to bring him back from that edge. And that included keeping the boy from ever feeling as helpless and useless and worthless as he had that day. The General had included him in his alchemy studies, he’d given the youngest Elric a purpose. At first it had only been for Al’s sake, but as time had gone on, Mustang had realized that the boy really was a brilliant tool and he’d put him to proper use. Neither Roy nor Riza understood how desperate General Mustang was, to ensure that he never had to bury Alphonse next to his brother. That he wouldn’t be the cause of both of their deaths. How could they? They hadn’t lived it. So to ask what was Mustang of that world thinking, Roy would have to try to get to know Alphonse a little better. “Perhaps you should do a little Alchemy with him, see what he did with his General, before you’re so quick to judge.” Sage advice from the Lieutenant, who was already taking the trash away and into the kitchen, leaving the Colonel there with his thoughts for a moment. She’d seen that frown. His Assistant knew what he was thinking, and it wasn’t fair to the Mustang in the other world. *** The Mustang of this world didn’t know those things; how could he fathom them? He didn’t know the situation or the outcome, only that Alphonse Elric knew a man this Mustang had never been. Though, it was unfair, he supposed, to say he couldn’t understand that man. He was him, in ways, and he did care about the boys as they were. He was guilty of writing off Alphonse-the-suit-of-armor, for focusing his attention on Edward as the living, accessible brother. But Ed had designed it that way. He put himself between Alphonse and the world. Maybe Hawkeye had a point though. Roy set his cup aside, his fingers lingering near the warmth of it just briefly until they curled into fists and he brought both hands back to his lap. Maybe he should get to know what Alphonse had learned from the Mustang of that world. The boy’s gloves were made of ignition cloth, hand designed by Mustang, brought to fruition through his own ingenuity and he’d either shared the secret with Alphonse or commissioned some be made for the boy. Why? Why did he care so much? What had those boys meant to his life? What did they mean now? Why did he go out of his way to give Edward an alchemy project to keep him from sinking into depression if he didn’t care? Roy closed his eyes, sinking down into his chair, his fingers slowly relaxing, his anxiety easing. All of this was solvable. He just had to stop questioning why he’d done the things he’d done in that other world, and just do what he thought was necessary now. Don’t worry about that other Mustang. Just be the Mustang here. So when Hawkeye came back, Roy had at least resolved to do that much, and his eyes looked much clearer. He seemed somewhat more peaceful, anyway. He’d talk to Alphonse, even if it took imagining him as a sixteen year old girl. *** Returning to the table, the Lieutenant paused and smiled slowly, a subtle, hidden thing. “It looks like you’ve made up your mind about something, sir.” Leaning, the woman would wipe down the Colonel’s table so it would be clean for next time, then she neatly folded up the rag and returned it to its spot over the handle of the stove before coming back to her Superior’s side. She was glad for it, the clarity she saw there in his eyes, he’d made a decision. It was that look of a man who’d realized his mission and was going to accomplish it. Hawkeye had always loved seeing that look in those dark eyes. It was inspiring. Even if he only got the look because he’d come up with some new, awful way to torture the men in his command. “Do you need anything else, Colonel?” It was her gentle cue that she was ready to leave, her task of feeding him and cleaning up (because she was sure he wouldn’t do it) after him done. That meant it was time to go. *** Roy laughed lightly, looking up at her when she came near, “It’s been a good week for decision making,” he replied. And wasn’t that the truth? He’d come to a lot of conclusions, it seemed. Each of them prompted by something far out of his control and then whittled down into pieces of things he could manage. Things he could accomplish and things he could encourage. So when Hawkeye spoke and made her cue known, he rose to his feet, “Just one more thing, Lieutenant,” he said, stepping near her. Then the Colonel reached out to grab his Lieutenant’s coat to tug her gently closer so that he could lean in to kiss her. Decisions had been made this week. Conclusions drawn. He had a goal he’d set out to accomplish. It was a good week. *** She’d seen it coming a mile away, when he’d stood. When he’d stepped near. She had time to turn away before his hands came to grasp at her lapels. The Lieutenant could had turned her face aside as her Colonel had dragged her nearer. Hawkeye could have said no before those lips met hers. But she didn’t. Instead, she let brown eyes slide shut and the sniper leaned into that kiss, allowing the Flame Alchemist to take what he’d wanted. Well.. it wasn’t really taking if she was so eager to give it up, now was it? Her hands found their way to trim sides, long fingers spreading out and sliding up his ribs and around to his back so she could hold on while the kiss deepened. Because oh, she urged it deeper. And this kiss would last longer than the one they’d shared in the locker room more than a month ago.. It would end better, as well. Well. Marginally. When the kiss finally had to come to an end, Riza turned her face away slightly, the flush on her cheeks evident. Those Killer’s eyes reopened and shifted to lock onto the man still holding onto her. Crap. “This side-arm is loaded, sir.” She warned him quietly, before turning her body and pulling from his embrace. “I’ll be in the barracks if you need me.” If she was going to escape, she needed to do it now. Why had she kissed him again? Well, that was an easy answer: she loved him. Shit. If allowed, Hawkeye would be headed for the door without so much as a glance back. *** “You’re not going to shoot me today, Lieutenant,” the Colonel replied, but he did let her go. He’d said one more thing, and that had been it. He didn’t want it to end, he didn’t want her to flee, but pushing too much too quickly wouldn’t do either of them any favors. She’d … do something. It was hard to say; she’d kissed him back, again, she’d told him she loved him out of whatever context she thought mattered more than any other, but she’d also threatened him. Nothing new, really, on the last part. But Roy let her go, watching her walk away, and because she didn’t turn she didn’t get to see the boyish smile that crossed his face. He was a man with a plan. He always had one. And she was part of it. Hadn’t she always been? Roy slid back to the chair, closed his eyes, and committed their kiss to memory. He loved her. She knew it now. |