Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye (flame_queen) wrote in knowhereic, @ 2017-10-03 04:01:00 |
|
|||
Riza Hawkeye wasn’t to blame. She hadn’t told a living soul. But then again, she hadn’t needed to. Alphonse Elric knew the Colonel’s birthday and had been eager to tell his brother and York, and the three of them had thrown Roy a little party. Sure, Ed had been weak and tired, but he was still up for making sure the Colonel knew he was another year older. By Al’s estimations, he’d be thirty-one, a solid four years now separating him and the Lieutenant that was always at his side. Including now, as she finished cleaning up the mess from the party. Yeah, they’d had it in Roy’s apartment, it’d been sort of a surprise (one Hawkeye had been let in on, and then warned Roy about). And when it’d been over, Riza had assured them that she could clean up and had urged the trio of blondes out. Roy Mustang and his collection of blondes. Hawkeye was currently picking up the plates with cake crumbs on them, stacking them neatly and taking them to the sink, leaving the Colonel to relax there on the couch. Hell, York had even gotten him a present, though he’d slipped it to him in secret and told him to open it later. It’d just been a small box, something easy to fit in your pocket. When he opened it later, alone, he’d find it to be a chunk of gold. For.. whatever purpose he might come up with. *** It was a good thing Hawkeye had warned Roy about the impending ‘surprise’ party, because otherwise he would have been surprised right into irritation and anger. With some kind of primer to the festivities, he could at least prepare himself for it mentally. Fortunately it was a small affair, with precluded the noise and the chaos of something louder. Roy kept that ridiculous cheerful disposition of his throughout the night right up until his trio of blondes (what gave, anyway?) trouped out back into the night with York as their guard. Good riddance. Roy cared about his people, don’t get him wrong. He cared about them all a metric ton, it was just also exhausting keeping his happy exterior in place for lengthy periods of time. But like he’d told Ed, you faked it for them, not for yourself. So they’d gone, and the Colonel was a boneless heap of flesh on the couch with a hand over his eyes, and a chemistry book (thank you, Alphonse) resting on his chest. He could hear Hawkeye putzing around the apartment, cleaning. Always cleaning. Hell, she’d cleaned up his alchemy notes before the others had come and he hadn’t said a word. But now, Roy squinted open one eye, pushed himself to sitting, the book falling into his lap, and turned to watch Hawkeye go about her business. “Don’t you ever get tired of doing that?” he asked. He’d asked her that a lot as children, actually. *** As a child, she’d never answered him, she’d only looked at him. Her expression had always told him it was really none of his business.. Her eyes had sometimes answered with a solemn affirmative. But she did it anyway. If she didn’t, who would? As a girl, she had a father and a young man to clean up after, as well as herself. Now, it was just herself and the Colonel. Today, she glanced over at him before stepping into the kitchen with the last of the dishes. She didn’t bother to answer, she only gave him a look. She didn’t do it because she liked doing it, Roy. She did it because it needed to be done. She always had. Hawkeye had always done what needed to be done. What was expected of her. She’d wanted to be a good daughter. She wanted to be a good assistant. She wanted to be a good Lieutenant. A good friend. And now, a good roommate. And the place needed to be cleaned, so she would do it. Without complaint. Always. The sink turned on and the blonde got to washing the dishes. *** Did she want to be a good wife? Roy touched the box in his pocket briefly before he opted to ignore it. He hadn’t opened it yet but the stupid thing was about the right size. He wanted to strangle York sometimes. Why the hell was the man so big? But, setting aside thoughts of York, Roy watched Hawkeye and didn’t flinch away in wake of the Look she’d given him. Sometimes he was immune to her, too. He smiled instead and got up to trail lazily after her, yawning, then rubbing his eyes like a sleepy child. “You could tell me to do it, I probably would for once,” maybe. Maybe not. Roy Mustang was a notoriously lazy individual, which Hawkeye knew. He paused just behind her, unsure suddenly why he’d followed her into the kitchen or what he’d intended to do once he was there. He watched her wash the dishes for a moment before he stepped in closer and turned off the water. “It’s my birthday, relax.” *** “I’m not going to tell you to clean up the mess from your own party, sir.” She reminded him calmly, scrubbing off the dishes before setting them aside and getting to work on the forks. That was, until the water turned off and she turned her head to look at him, hands soapy, the white foam all over the sponge and fork in her hand. “As soon as I’m finished, I’ll come join you on the couch and we can watch whatever you want.” On the television, that was. They often sat there at night, while Hawkeye did paperwork from the day. She hadn’t had any paperwork in the last week, thanks to the tribbles. “Read your chemistry book, I’ll be done soon.” And then he could have her settled beside him. But these dishes weren’t going to clean themselves... and she hadn’t seen Roy clean a dish since they were children and he’d stopped her from cleaning his that one evening. The evening he’d told her that he was leaving her. *** She looked at him, standing there with soap on her hands, a fork clutched in her fingers and a sponge in the others, that expression in her brown eyes a flat look that questioned what he was doing on five different levels. He knew her expressions so well he probably deserved some kind of award. Who else knew Hawkeye so well? But she looked ridiculous and Roy was in a mood. So he leaned his elbow on the counter and reached with his other hand to touch the foamy soap and then… touched her nose with it. Roy grinned his boyish grin. He chuckled his mild chuckle. “They’ll be there later,” he said, “come relax for a minute. It’s been a damned long two weeks for everyone.” *** What was he doing? She set that stern gaze on him-- and he dabbed soap on her nose. It caused her to blink and her eyes crossed to look at it, then she turned her face and shrugged up her shoulder to wipe the soap off there. “Sir.” She scolded softly. “Go read your chemistry book. I’ll be done soon.” Reaching out, she turned the water back on and went back to washing. She only needed another ten minutes. Most of it was already done. She needed to vacuum, clean up the bits of paper from the floor (they’d used regular old paper, as they’d had no wrapping paper), change the sheets on his and her own bed, and toss their laundry into the laundry room. Yes, he could change his own sheets.. But he didn’t. So she did. Sometimes, she wondered when she’d become a mother. *** She’d always been a mother. Or a maid. Either way. The only thing she missed was the satisfaction of doing it. Roy smiled still, especially when she crossed her eyes then wiped her nose, his laugh was given more freely at both. Then he relented and nodded his head. “Fine, okay,” but Roy was in a mood, still, so he flicked the water at her from the faucet then launched himself away before she could retaliate. Christ, he was like a child on a playground who pulled your hair when he liked you. Still laughing, he stepped out of the kitchen and returned to the main room, sliding gracelessly back onto the couch where he took up the chemistry book and the scientific calculator he’d gotten from a boy named Marco the day before. Who would have ever thought the exceptionally charming womanizer was actually a science nerd? Roy propped the book open in his lap and started to read. When Hawkeye finally came out to join him, he’d abandoned the book in favor of inputting the incorrect functions on the calculator in a bid to figure out how the thing actually worked. Who would have thought doing calculus by hand would be easier? *** Hawkeye had turned out to be.. Well.. somewhat of a wiz with the technology. She’d taken very well to the tablet, and the multiple computers in the office, as well as the other office equipment. So when she came to finally sit on the couch, she eyed the calculator, but said nothing, only set the tea she’d made on the coffee table, and lifted her own cup to take a sip. For a moment, she thought about asking him if he’d figured it out. Asking him if she could have a go at it.. But she didn’t. There were lots of things Riza didn’t do, that she could do, simply because they were things Roy wanted to do. There was no reason for her to take on a task when he wanted to do it himself. She generally did the things the Colonel didn’t like to do. So instead, she sat quietly there and drank her tea while he played with the calculator. It was his birthday, he could do whatever he liked. *** Hawkeye joined him. With tea. And since Hawkeye’s tea was legendary, the Colonel put the calculator and the chemistry book aside in favor of taking up the cup. It was hot in his hands, and the aroma met his nose with cheerful delight. They’d drank a lot of tea the last five or so days, because the caffeine worked both to keep them awake and to stave off the hunger generated by their lack of resources. They weren’t anywhere near starving (no matter what Alphonse complained about) but still, their first portions once food had begun trickling back into Knowhere were light, so as not to overwhelm themselves. They’d indulged in a bit of cake today, but Mustang wouldn’t be surprised if they each felt just a bit off for the sweetness of it. Roy drank his tea, looked from the calculator to the blonde, and back again. “You seem irritated,” he said finally. *** Thankfully, Riza’s cake (like her pie) wasn’t particularly sweet. It was right on the edge, but leaned more to the flavor of the vanilla or chocolate she had used, instead of any sugars that were added. Alphonse had certainly been pleased, as he’d missed the woman’s baking. “No, not irritated, sir.” She assured him, glancing over with those killer’s eyes. “I just have a lot on my mind.” The Elrics. York. The new Spartan. How Harry and Tex fit in. The rest of Knowhere. The issues they faced out here. Whether they’d ever get home or not. What would happen to Ed once they did get home, and he lost this version of his brother. When this warm, human version was replaced by a suit of armor. She just had a lot to think about and nothing to keep her mind off of it. She needed to get back to work. *** A whole two sentences. Roy quirked his brow and regarded his Lieutenant with serious dark eyes, scanning her face and the depths of those deep brown’s, searching for something. A lot on her mind? Roy always had a lot on his mind, he was just an expert at not giving a damn sometimes. Or, you know, pretending he didn’t anyway. He drank his tea and frowned slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?” Roy Mustang wasn’t stable, but one could never say he wasn’t a good person. And being a good person, he did care. One might say he cared too much. Who was this nerdy, womanizing scientist with a good heart, really? Who cared about the wellbeing of his people more than he cared about himself. *** “No, sir, it’s just a few errant thoughts.” She assured, leaning to set the tea down, then turning to face him there on the couch. “It’s your birthday, Colonel, for another..” Brown eyes glanced over to the clock, then back at him. “Four hours. Four hours to do whatever you’d like.” Did he want to sit here and play on his calculator? She would allow it. Whatever he wanted for the rest of the evening. “Finish your tea.” After he was finished, anyway. *** His birthday for four more hours. He refused to accept, for the record, that he was thirty-one years old. There was no sun around which Knowhere orbited, there was no calendar to mark solar years. He hadn’t been here long enough to turn thirty-one, though he supposed it wasn’t an awful age. Mustang eyed Hawkeye. Her steadfast refusal to say what was on her mind always drove him a little insane. It was always difficult to have a conversation with a woman who never said much of anything about anything in particular. He never struggled as much to speak with people as he did her. But then she gave him an olive branch and he smiled his devious smile when he had a stupid idea. “Whatever I’d like, huh?” he questioned. “Then I want to play twenty questions,” because she knew everything about him and he knew next to nothing about her. *** Twenty questions? Her tea lowered. He wanted to play a children’s game? Why? Was he really that interested in finding out what was on her mind? Brown eyes searched his face for a few seconds as she thought, as she wondered, as she tried to pick through his brains by staring into those dark blue eyes. But, it was his birthday, and she nodded. Though, her look reminded him that this shouldn’t turn into anything ridiculous. If he started asking her about what sort of sexual positions she liked, she would shoot him. “Very well.” He wanted to play twenty questions. They would play. *** “With a caveat,” he said, his eyes glittering in amusement. She’d actually agreed and that would never not be funny. Sometimes Roy questioned why she put up with him, but his mood was apparently a manic high one today so he took her agreement for granted. He got up to fetch a bottle of alcohol that had taken a backseat in his life since the tribbles arrived and sat it between them now. “This is your lifeline,” he said, “If you don’t want to answer a question you can take a drink instead.” He grinned that stupid grin of his. You might have made a mistake, Hawkeye. *** The Lieutenant might have made a mistake. But she wasn’t one to back down, something the Colonel knew far too well. As if she was going to agree to do this, then tell him that she was retracting her answer, just because he added alcohol. She’d just have to answer all of his stupid questions. It was the Colonel, after all. He was going to want to know things like what shampoo she used, the size of her shoes, what her favorite tea was. Whether she liked sunsets or sunrises more. He was going to want to know ridiculous, useless things. Because that was the sort of man Roy Mustang was. “Fine.” She agreed simply, chin lifting a little. Bring it on, Colonel. *** He chuckled lightly. Fine. She raised her chin in defiance. She welcomed the challenge. She was a fierce competitor behind her stoic killer’s eyes. Roy knew all of that just as well as the rest of her stubborn attitude. So he popped open the bottle of alcohol and took a drink directly from it before he put it back on the table. She was right though, his first question wasn’t particularly thoughtful. “What’s one thing you always procrastinate on doing?” She was always on target, right on time down to the minute there had to be something she dragged on accomplishing. No one could be so ordered in every aspect of their lives. *** What did she always procrastinate on? She often waited until the last moment to dress in the morning, but that was by design. The less time in her uniform, the less chance dog hair might get on it. She couldn’t really think of anything else. Even the tasks that she didn’t like to do, the Lieutenant did swiftly and completely-- and to the best of her ability. Usually before the other tasks, so she wouldn’t procrastinate. She couldn’t think of a single thing she always procrastinated on. Riza Hawkeye was an ordered person. She had been as a child. She was as an adult. But he’d asked a question and it deserved an answer. The clear thought on her face was obvious, the blonde was having a hard time coming up with an answer. “Sometimes, back home in my apartment,” she settled for an example, finally, “I don’t wash the exterior of my windows exactly on time.. Sometimes I wait for the hired washers to do it.” She procrastinated on cleaning the outside of the windows.. And let the men hired to clean the windows.. Do their jobs. Lieutenant Hawkeye, everyone. *** Roy stared at Riza with a blank expression, his eyes flat, his mouth a thin line. “Don’t you live on the second floor?” he asked. What did she do? Climb outside to clean when she was feeling anxious enough not to let the cleaners clean the windows? What the hell kind of answer was that? And did he just ask his second question just then? Was that cheating if she called him on it? Roy pushed the bottle toward her. “That wasn’t exciting enough.” What had he been expecting? Some secret life Hawkeye was hiding from him? Not when she spent her every waking second looking after him. She hardly had the time to conduct her own affairs when she was so entrenched in his own. “What would you do tomorrow if you weren’t my assistant?” Maybe that was a better avenue to pursue. *** “The third floor, sir.” Wow, he really didn’t know anything about her, did he? And he knew where she lived (about, anyway), though he’d never been there or even seen it. When he pushed the drink at him, though, she rolled her eyes. “I answered your questions, sir. Don’t break your own rules. Eighteen.” He had eighteen left. And then another ridiculous question came. She might never have to drink a single drop. “I would worry about whether or not your work was getting done, sir. You’ve been enjoying your alchemy more lately, and I’d like to see you continue on that trend.” Someone would have to make sure he did. She’d worry about that. “Seventeen.” Poor Roy. *** The third floor--that was the same thing. He rolled his eyes. And then she answered a question the same way she answered everything else--in context of what he’d be doing. Did she have anything else in her life besides the work she did for him? God. Roy pushed a hand through his dark hair and scowled. “Cheater,” he replied. “I didn’t ask what you’d worry about, I asked what you’d do if you weren’t my assistant. Take a damned drink,” he said, and pushed the bottle toward her just that much more. “What’s your favorite color of gemstone?” he asked. “Or diamond.” That answer mattered, okay? *** Fine, she would give him that. It’d been a crappy answer. So, snagging the bottle in a skilled hand, she’d take a drink and set the bottle back down. But then another question came and the blonde woman tilted her head a little. It was a strange question. “Diamonds are nice. I like sapphire, though. The deeper blue, the better.” Nearly the color of his eyes. “Sixteen.” Why was he asking that? Was he going to ask her favorite type of animal, next? Well, she’d known to expect strange questions. At least he wasn’t asking for her bra size, right? The barest smile crossed her face as she thought about that, but it was gone an instant later. *** Huh. Sapphire. A mineral corundum, an aluminum oxide. Maybe that would be easier to form than diamo-- Hawkeye smiled. She never did it obviously, but he was attuned to the subtle expressions on her face because together they communicated on a level above everyone else. So she smiled and then it was gone and the idiot man that he was wasted his next question. “What did you just smile about?” he asked. His dark eyes narrowed and he watched her face for the tells she gave that he was better at reading than anyone else in the world. Except, perhaps, for Grumman. The Colonel sat back and folded his arms across his chest. *** “Is it a crime to smile now, sir?” Her eyebrows lifted at him, but there was a small tone of amusement in her voice. Dark eyes remained locked onto dark eyes, searching for some sign that he expected an actual answer, instead of having asked a rhetorical question. When she realized he was waiting for one, she folded her hands one over the other and set them in her lap, like always. “I was considering some of the questions you might ask me and how ridiculous they might get.” Her truthful answer. She was pretty sure he could come up with some rather insane questions. But the more crazy they were, the more amusing they were. “Fifteen.” *** She was too good at answering in a way that wasn’t an answer. Too neutral but still truthful. Still to the letter of the word rather than the spirit of what he’d intended. But that was Hawkeye for you. Roy tilted his head, his eyes narrowed, he watched the fold of her hands and the way she sat, the subtle way she held her shoulders and the amused glint in her eyes. His questions. How crazy could they get? Pretty damned crazy, it was true, he wasn’t typical and in the best of times he was fairly off the walls and eccentric. Nothing he was currently asking had surprised her though, she knew him too well. “Will you go on a date with me?” he asked. Maybe that would throw her for a loop. *** Now that.. Was a little surprising, but not unexpected. Not entirely. Besides, it was also a wasted question, he knew the answer. “One date, sir, yes.” She would go on a date with him. “Fourteen.” She was beginning to believe that the famous Flame Alchemist couldn’t even come up with twenty questions to ask to her. He knew almost nothing about her, but he didn’t know what he wanted to know. Not until he wanted to know it. And now that he could ask, he was floundering. So he’d asked her on a date. It seemed very much like the Colonel. “We don’t have to finish this game, sir.” If the dark man needed an out, his assistant would give it to him. *** One date. Well, that was good anyway. Their last one was… wasted. It had been a disaster. And the fact that she’d agreed to another one? He didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Roy sank further into the couch, his arms still across his chest, as he stared at his Lieutenant, forlorn. But she was giving him an out and that just made him dig his heels in because he was just as stubborn as she was. He scowled at her, pushed a hand through his dark hair and then sat forward to take the bottle, taking a drink from it. He set it back down, leaned his elbows on his thighs and dropped his hands between his knees. “.... what is the one question you want me to ask you?” She was right, of course, he didn’t know what he wanted to know about her. Not until he thought to ask, and since he usually didn’t think to ask, his sudden opportunity to question her was entirely wasted. He was coming up with questions on the fly and she wasn’t answering the ways he wanted her to, but in ways that made sense. How the hell did she deflect so easily? *** She was a master of deflection, Roy should have known that by now. Everything he wanted to know, she easily turned around. Nearly twenty years together and he knew almost nothing about her. That wasn’t natural.. And his being so self-centered was something she’d guided him into. Each time he asked about her, she’d somehow made it about him. And after a while, it just sort of became the norm. The one question she wanted him to ask her. Staring at him for a long moment, Riza Hawkeye finally reached out for that bottle and took a drink. “Thirteen.” No, she wasn’t answering that question. Try another. *** Roy watched the thoughts float through Hawkeye’s eyes. He watched with his occasional intensity, not the burning fury when he was angry, but the look of a man interested, made worse by the fact he was in a spirited mood. Hawkeye stared back at him, the dark man raised a brow, and then she took a drink. A slow grin spread across Roy’s face. Then there was something she didn’t want to talk about. But what? And how to wheedle it out of her? He really was an idiot. Roy tilted his head, but make no mistake that it was indicative of a thoughtful moment. It wasn't. He had thirteen questions left. Roy pushed a hand through his dark hair and smiled a little. “What do you want to do for our next date?” he asked, because that was something he could focus on. He’d cast himself too wide with his general questions but narrowing it down to something smaller gave him more grounding, a better footing. He didn’t flounder quite so much. He could stay in some form of control. *** Their next date? Was that really what he was going to use his questions on? To be honest, the Lieutenant found herself a little disappointed. It was almost like he was giving up. “Perhaps we could go to Earth. Have a proper meal.” See what the future looked like. It was exciting and terrifying all at once. “Maybe see the ocean.” It was something she’d never seen before, a body of water that large. “Or just spend some time at the gun range.” Which might be just as much fun for Hawkeye, but certainly not for poor Roy. Brown eyes set onto him, then lowered to the bottle, and came back up again. She looked directly at the birthday boy, eyes locked. A few, long moments of silence passed, then she lifted a hand to tuck her hair back behind her ear and pushed up to her feet. “Twelve.” Leaning, she picked up the glasses that were leftover from the small party, then she was taking them to the kitchen to drop them off before returning to the living area and sitting down again, letting out a small breath. She felt better, at least, that the glasses were out of sight. *** Go to earth. See the ocean. They lived in a landlocked society with deserts to most of their borders and a frozen wasteland to the north. The ocean would be the most exciting thing they’d seen in recent years. Something new. They could do that. Roy peered at Hawkeye, watched her struggle for a moment, before she caved and cleaned up the remaining dishes. Roy smiled at her back then reached into his pocket for the stupid little box York had left him. Sometimes the Colonel wanted to set York on fire. He opened it, knowing exactly what he was expecting to find, and found himself…. With something else entirely. A small chunk of what looked like gold. The scientist inside him wanted to stare at and figure out if it was real. But Hawkeye was coming back so he blinked at it then up at her. Twelve. A bolt of inspiration. “If I made this into a ring, would you wear it?” he picked up the little chunk and held it between his thumb and forefinger. *** Brown eyes stared down at the lump of gold.. Then she lifted those Killer’s eyes back up to him. “Rings can be dangerous in combat, sir. If it got caught on something, I could lose my finger. Perhaps around the office, yes. If it was aesthetically pleasing.” She paused, considering him for a moment, then she lifted her chin. “However, York gave that to you as a present.” She recognized the box that was in his other hand. “Perhaps he means for you to make something out of it for yourself, sir. I’m not entirely sure that giving away his gift is appropriate.” It wasn’t the question she wanted to hear. “Eleven.” The bottle was lifted, capped, and set aside on the coffee table. Roy had enough for the night and she didn’t plan to drink anymore. *** Roy opened his mouth to ask why she was always logical, but that would waste his quickly dwindling questions. Why was she always logical? Why did she twist things around so casually? The answer she gave wasn’t one he wanted to hear because it hadn’t been the question he’d wanted to ask. He was utterly incapable of talking to the woman sitting across from him. “He didn’t give it to me, for me, when have you ever--” He stopped, she’d almost gotten a free question out of him. Roy frowned slightly. “I’ve never been known to wear jewelry.” Which was true. Roy put the chunk of gold back inside its box, set the box aside then dragged his dark eyes back up to Hawkeye’s face, peering into those calm brown eyes so certain she was just wasting the rest of her night sitting here, entertaining him. Eleven questions. What did he want to know? “Back home, what do you do on your days off? And I don’t mean.. A damned list of chores. What do you do? Do you listen to music?” Roy didn’t, he lived in perpetual silence when he was home. *** Now that.. That was a better question. It was almost intimidating. Almost. Roy had actually thought about that one. Maybe he was figuring it out. But not quick enough. “Generally, I take care of my chores. Our laundry. Shopping. Errands.” Because the Colonel had certainly never done his own laundry. She didn’t either-- not for her uniforms, anyway. Her casual clothes, she did herself. “I take Black Hayate to the park. Once a month I have my hair cut.” Chores. Errands. Normal things. Nothing fun. Not really. “I do enjoy some music.” Just quiet music in her own home, while she cleaned, or if she had time to cook. “Eight.” Oh yes. He’d just lost three questions on that one. Hopefully he was satisfied. *** It was so… normal. Her life outside of the office was casual routine. Somehow that disappointed him a little, even if it wasn’t that surprising. Everything about her was ordered and neat until she got to work and he threw it into chaos for her. Even then she wrested everything back into a manageable series of events. Why shouldn’t her outside life reflect that? Still though. He wanted her to do something other than breathe day to day. “How--” He scowled again, stopped himself from asking and eyed her, “Nine questions. That was two, because two of them were the same question. You can’t go from eleven to eight when you subtract two.” He stared at her stubbornly. “... do you want children?” They’d been surrounded by a bevy of teenagers these days, between Al and Ed, and this stray Marco that Roy had picked up. He hated to admit it, but he liked the kid. He liked all three of them. But teenagers were far different from children of their own. Her own. His own. Whatever. “Eight, what does your fantasy future look like?” *** “One was a question about what I did on my days off, the other was just what I did. Two questions. Eight.” A stickler for the rules, this one, and she was going to make sure Mustang was challenged. He thought better-- worked better-- when his back was up against the wall. The less questions he had, the better they’d be. “I’ve never really considered having children, sir. My future has always been predetermined.” Since joining the military. “However, I’m not against the idea of having children of my own.” She was far too good at not answering questions. “Seven.” A pause. “My fantasy future, sir?” Her eyes refocused on him and she stared for a few long seconds before looking around the apartment, and back at him. “I suppose.. That I’d be by your side, Colonel.” That was her fantasy future. Remaining at his side. Wherever he went. Whatever he did. She just wanted to be with him. It was, at least, an achievable fantasy, even if all they did was stand in line in front of a firing squad together. “Six.” *** “Not against the idea isn’t the same as wanting them definitively, you know. It wouldn’t hurt if you developed an opinion or desire that you bothered sharing with me, one day,” he said, his tone decidedly flat, his eyes mirroring the look and his mouth thinning into a line. Roy shook his head slightly and reviewed what he’d learned about Hawkeye in the space of 14 questions. 13 questions, she was cheating by taking away one. It was a pathetic amount of nothing, answers he could have gleaned if he watched her long enough for a day. How was it that after twenty years he still didn’t know anything about her? And yet she knew everything about him. Except… Hm. “Did you know that General Grumman has been telling me to marry his granddaughter for about… three years now?” He met Hawkeye’s eyes. She’d randomly tried distracting him with Grumman’s relationship to her a few weeks ago. While hilarious, in hindsight, Roy hadn’t understood the purpose for the misdirection then. Or, rather, the redirection. If that was Hawkeye off guard and in panic mode? Roy smiled to himself. *** Now that caught her attention and it made her lips thin, her pupils narrow, and her gaze sharpen on him. Was he serious? Of course he was serious. She could see it in his face. In his eyes. Grumman had been telling Roy to marry her for.. Years? But Roy hadn’t known who Grumman’s granddaughter was. He had no idea who Grumman had been trying to force onto his Colonel. “..No, I didn’t know that, sir.” She admitted, breathing in deeply through her nose and folding her hands, pressing them into her lap. “He’s always wanted the best for me.” The best husband. The best life. The best career. He wanted her to be First Lady. “Five.” Maybe it hadn’t been what he wanted, the reaction he’d hoped for.. But her moment of surprise had surely been worth it. It took a lot to surprise Riza Hawkeye. *** Satisfaction boiled in his chest, a giddy delight that he’d managed to elicit some kind of reaction out of her that wasn’t long suffering patience or a sigh of annoyance. For once he knew something about his life that she didn’t. How sad was that sentence? Roy furrowed his brows a little and rubbed his nose. Grumman wanted the best for her. That was…. That was an odd sentiment, considering. Five questions left. “Do you think I’m the best one for you?” he almost wished he could take it back once it came out of his mouth. He didn’t want to know the answer, because he knew the answer he’d give in regards to himself. That no, he wasn’t the best for her. He was a terrible human being in some regards. He wasn’t good for her. Even if her fantasy future involved him, being at his side. She never said in what capacity anyway. But then he’d never asked. Roy raised a brow. “... Hawkeye.” *** The question came. Silence lingered. Did she think he was the best one for her? It might seem like she didn’t intend to answer at all. Then he said her name and it prompted her to speak again. “I think you’re the only one for me, sir.” There was no ‘best’, because there was no one else. Slowly, the sniper pushed up from the couch again, moving back towards the kitchen so she could run some water over the dirty glasses, washing them out and setting them aside, so the remnants of the drink wouldn’t get sticky inside the glasses. “Four.” This wasn’t how she’d imagined this game going. He’d suddenly turned very serious and he’d focused in. He was dangerous when he did that. She had half a mind to shut this game down now, so it didn’t get any worse. Why had she agreed to this again? *** The only one for her. Roy stared after Riza for a moment, just a brief pause, as if he might let her escape the room. But then he was pushing up off the couch and following after, close behind--close enough to reach out and take her by the arm to stop and pull her back toward himself. It was sudden and he was suddenly there, pressed close, one hand on her arm the other rising up to touch her face and her hair like he always did. Four questions left. “Do you want to know when I first knew I loved you?” *** She heard his footsteps, she knew he was there. She felt his hand on her arm, the way he tugged her, turned her, and pressed his body close. Pulled her body close. The sniper let out a breath she hadn’t realized that she’d been holding. Did she want to know when Roy first knew he loved her? This time, she didn’t have words for him, she just nodded. Yes, she wanted to know. She wanted to hear the story. She wanted to know when it’d been. What had pushed him over that edge. Silence followed. Well. Almost. “Three.” *** She nodded, no words followed, her silence was always more telling. It had always been that way. Why speak, when she knew he’d know? But he didn’t always know what she was thinking anymore than she did him. But she’d nodded, yes, she wanted to know. So Roy smiled a little, cast back through the years easily and found the point in time when he’d known. When he’d realized with certainty that he’d never risk losing her. “After your father died,” he started, stroking his knuckles over her cheekbone. “And you moved through the house like you were in a dream. I wanted to stay so I could hold you up when you broke down. But you never did.” He brushed his lips over her forehead, ghosted across her eyes, “Because you’re strong, and beautiful and smart as hell. I should have told you then. But I swore I’d do everything in my power to keep you safe.” “May I kiss you now?” Wasted question, he already knew the answer regardless of what she said. *** He’d fallen in love with her at the same time she’d fallen in love with him. Well. Nearly. It had been in the cemetery when she realized she loved him, when he’d shown that idealistic side he’d had as a boy. He’d been so handsome. So perfect. So strong and brilliant and sure of himself.. And that smile. He’d been everything she’d ever wanted. It’d been easy to fall. “Yes.” Came the predictable answer, her chin even lifting slightly as she anticipated him leaning in. She wanted that kiss as much as he did. They both wanted more. But they hadn’t been able to have it, it hadn’t been in the cards. It hadn’t been in their future. But now.. Just maybe.. Only what happened when their time here was up and they went home? It didn’t matter. Not right now. All that mattered was that kiss. “Two.” She said quietly against his lips. *** He kissed her. And if he couldn’t convey all the feelings he was incapable of communicating to her otherwise with that kiss, then he was never going to get it entirely right. But he didn’t think about it and maybe that was the freeing moment in all of his paltry attempts before. Whatever the case, he kissed the woman he loved, one arm looping around her waist as the other hand curled into her blonde hair and held her head firmly (but not cruelly). And when they finally pulled away to breathe with their lips still touching, his dark eyes remained closed for just a beat longer. He smiled slowly, tilted his head and then looked into those brown eyes. “I already know what my last question is,” he told her. “Can I save it for later, or do you want me to ask you now?” *** His last question. “Save it.” His Lieutenant insisted, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his, a slow breath rushing from her nose. She wasn’t ready for him to ask. She wasn’t sure she could say yes. She wasn’t sure about anything right now.. Except that she loved him. And that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She wanted to have children with him. She hadn’t wanted to tell him that, but there it was. Riza had been concerned he hadn’t wanted children. There was no way she’d force him into something he didn’t want. He’d never shown any signs of wanting children before. So why had he asked her? To find a reason they shouldn’t be together, perhaps. To prove that she wanted something he didn’t. “Happy Birthday, sir.” He technically still had two questions.. But if he wanted to save them, she’d let him. *** Save it. Better that way. He’d fuck it up otherwise. He’d do something wrong which would make her angry, and then this night would go as anticipated. Right now it was going strangely well. So Roy smiled against her lips and nodded, okay. He’d save it. He’d do something with it later. Roy chuckled and wrapped both arms around the Lieutenant, holding her close against his chest, his cheek pressed against her blonde hair. He breathed her in. She fit there perfectly in his arms, right where he felt safe in hers. “It’s still my birthday, come play with my hair.” He liked when she pet him. |