[Fic] Maybe This Time (PG-13, Archer/Riza)
Title: Maybe This Time
Fandom: FMA
Pairing: Archer/Riza
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 869
Notes: For domminess, whose birthday was yesterday. This is a sequel of sorts to Friends With Benefits, the drabble I wrote for her in a meme a few weeks ago. I couldn't resist continuing this. Happy belated birthday, Dommi!
When Archer shows up at her doorstep, Riza considers not opening the door.
There he is, carrying himself like a good soldier, posture stiff and formal except for the fact that he's holding his left hand up in a pristine white bandage, and he just stands there. And stands there. Not moving.
Finally Riza heaves a sigh and opens the door wide. She has nothing to hide from him. "Lieutenant Colonel? Can I help you with something?"
"Good afternoon, Lieutenant. May I come in?"
"No."
"Good." Archer brushes past her and walks in anyway. "I think there's something we need to discuss."
Riza narrows her eyes dangerously. "Really."
"Yes. It's about the breakfast the other day."
She considers holding back her sigh, but then remembers she's in her own home and lets it out, her annoyance evident. "Sir? I'll remind you that you fondled my thigh."
Archer chuckles, and Riza can't figure out what that means. He smooths his jacket with the hand that isn't wrapped in bandages and sits down on her sofa. "Yes, but that's child's play." Still ramrod straight, prim and proper, he gazes at his injured hand for a minute and then returns his eyes to hers. "I've been thinking about this."
What the hell? Riza wonders.
"You see, Lieutenant," and here he finally relaxes, bringing one leg up and crossing it over the other, stretching his right arm down the length of the couch and allowing - Riza doesn't think he's capable of an involuntary smile - allowing his lips to quirk up ever so slightly. "I've been thinking quite a bit about this whole thing, and I think that we can agree that we both appreciate a certain, hmmm, strength of will."
Riza's pretty sure she's not going to like where this is going. She folds her arms across her chest and leans back against the front door.
Archer gives her a full smile this time and it's chilling. "I think that you and I, Lieutenant, would make an incredible team."
"What?"
"Yes, we would certainly be... something together. I'm beginning to understand how you operate, Lieutenant." Archer stands up, and Riza suddenly thinks she would actually rather he be sitting again. But no, he strides across the living room to her and stands in front of her, looking her up and down.
Her hand instinctively moves to her hip, where her gun waits, cold and ready. Archer smiles again. "Yes, I think I understand you a lot better now, Riza."
Her name on his lips sends shudders down her spine, and not in a good way. "Lieutenant Colonel," she says, emphasizing each syllable clearly, "I really don't know how, but I think there's been some misunderstanding here."
"Oh, no, Riza. I don't think so." Archer picks at some imaginary lint on the front of his jacket. "If you're into that sort of thing, well, far be it from me to deny you what you enjoy." He slides his cold gaze back up to her, and in a slippery voice he continues. "I enjoy that sort of thing, too."
She doesn't think about it, really. Years of training have made pulling her gun and threatening to take a life a reflex rather than a conscious action. She holds it to his head, but he merely smiles again.
"You truly disgust me," she says calmly. "And I can assure you, Lieutenant Colonel, that if you believe that what I did to your hand is some kind of sick kink of mine, you are mistaken." She cocks the gun with a click that seems to echo through the room. "Get out." With her other hand, she reaches for the doorknob and turns it. "Now."
"Well, well. You're so very feisty, Riza. Strength of will, like I said. I do like that."
Riza calculates a few things quickly, such as how far apart his feet are and the exact location of the rug behind him that she likes, and then moves her gun down between Archer's legs. She's glad she lives on the ground floor. The shot is so loud in the room that her ears are ringing after it's over. Archer's face has gone very, very white and very, very drawn.
"Perhaps I've made myself clear now," she says. "Get out."
"I see," he says faintly. "Maybe this was a misunderstanding, after all."
"I can move my hand two inches and you won't be walking out of this room, sir." She moves her hand up slightly and cocks the gun again. "One way or another, Lieutenant Colonel, your dick won't be anywhere near me after this conversation."
Archer swallows and offers a different sort of smile this time, stretched thinly across his lips, and when he speaks, it is in a more business-like tone. "Thank you for clearing up this matter, Lieutenant Hawkeye. I'll be going then."
"Yes, you will."
He stalks stiffly out the door and doesn't look back.
Riza sighs and glances at the splintered wood on the floor, then shakes her head. "Damn it. I just cleaned this this morning," she says out loud, looking at the gun.
Then she brightens. She's got a new brand of gun oil to try out.
Fandom: FMA
Pairing: Archer/Riza
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 869
Notes: For domminess, whose birthday was yesterday. This is a sequel of sorts to Friends With Benefits, the drabble I wrote for her in a meme a few weeks ago. I couldn't resist continuing this. Happy belated birthday, Dommi!
When Archer shows up at her doorstep, Riza considers not opening the door.
There he is, carrying himself like a good soldier, posture stiff and formal except for the fact that he's holding his left hand up in a pristine white bandage, and he just stands there. And stands there. Not moving.
Finally Riza heaves a sigh and opens the door wide. She has nothing to hide from him. "Lieutenant Colonel? Can I help you with something?"
"Good afternoon, Lieutenant. May I come in?"
"No."
"Good." Archer brushes past her and walks in anyway. "I think there's something we need to discuss."
Riza narrows her eyes dangerously. "Really."
"Yes. It's about the breakfast the other day."
She considers holding back her sigh, but then remembers she's in her own home and lets it out, her annoyance evident. "Sir? I'll remind you that you fondled my thigh."
Archer chuckles, and Riza can't figure out what that means. He smooths his jacket with the hand that isn't wrapped in bandages and sits down on her sofa. "Yes, but that's child's play." Still ramrod straight, prim and proper, he gazes at his injured hand for a minute and then returns his eyes to hers. "I've been thinking about this."
What the hell? Riza wonders.
"You see, Lieutenant," and here he finally relaxes, bringing one leg up and crossing it over the other, stretching his right arm down the length of the couch and allowing - Riza doesn't think he's capable of an involuntary smile - allowing his lips to quirk up ever so slightly. "I've been thinking quite a bit about this whole thing, and I think that we can agree that we both appreciate a certain, hmmm, strength of will."
Riza's pretty sure she's not going to like where this is going. She folds her arms across her chest and leans back against the front door.
Archer gives her a full smile this time and it's chilling. "I think that you and I, Lieutenant, would make an incredible team."
"What?"
"Yes, we would certainly be... something together. I'm beginning to understand how you operate, Lieutenant." Archer stands up, and Riza suddenly thinks she would actually rather he be sitting again. But no, he strides across the living room to her and stands in front of her, looking her up and down.
Her hand instinctively moves to her hip, where her gun waits, cold and ready. Archer smiles again. "Yes, I think I understand you a lot better now, Riza."
Her name on his lips sends shudders down her spine, and not in a good way. "Lieutenant Colonel," she says, emphasizing each syllable clearly, "I really don't know how, but I think there's been some misunderstanding here."
"Oh, no, Riza. I don't think so." Archer picks at some imaginary lint on the front of his jacket. "If you're into that sort of thing, well, far be it from me to deny you what you enjoy." He slides his cold gaze back up to her, and in a slippery voice he continues. "I enjoy that sort of thing, too."
She doesn't think about it, really. Years of training have made pulling her gun and threatening to take a life a reflex rather than a conscious action. She holds it to his head, but he merely smiles again.
"You truly disgust me," she says calmly. "And I can assure you, Lieutenant Colonel, that if you believe that what I did to your hand is some kind of sick kink of mine, you are mistaken." She cocks the gun with a click that seems to echo through the room. "Get out." With her other hand, she reaches for the doorknob and turns it. "Now."
"Well, well. You're so very feisty, Riza. Strength of will, like I said. I do like that."
Riza calculates a few things quickly, such as how far apart his feet are and the exact location of the rug behind him that she likes, and then moves her gun down between Archer's legs. She's glad she lives on the ground floor. The shot is so loud in the room that her ears are ringing after it's over. Archer's face has gone very, very white and very, very drawn.
"Perhaps I've made myself clear now," she says. "Get out."
"I see," he says faintly. "Maybe this was a misunderstanding, after all."
"I can move my hand two inches and you won't be walking out of this room, sir." She moves her hand up slightly and cocks the gun again. "One way or another, Lieutenant Colonel, your dick won't be anywhere near me after this conversation."
Archer swallows and offers a different sort of smile this time, stretched thinly across his lips, and when he speaks, it is in a more business-like tone. "Thank you for clearing up this matter, Lieutenant Hawkeye. I'll be going then."
"Yes, you will."
He stalks stiffly out the door and doesn't look back.
Riza sighs and glances at the splintered wood on the floor, then shakes her head. "Damn it. I just cleaned this this morning," she says out loud, looking at the gun.
Then she brightens. She's got a new brand of gun oil to try out.