Who: Riza Hawkeye (firebornfidelis) and Roy Mustang (ignite_the_sky) When: Just after he arrives Where: Outlander building Format: Paragraph What: Oh, it's a reunion. Warnings: Angst? sob
When he woke up on the floor of a room he didn't recognize, Roy had been incredibly confused. When he'd gotten a better look at his surroundings and discovered the little communicator, the confusion had doubled, but the relief that washed over him when he'd seen the Lieutenant's face was enough to push it by the wayside.
The Lieutenant's presence, even if it was just via the forge, had done wonders to calm his nerves --she'd always been the voice of reason in their relationship, like an attractive conscience-- so when she'd told him to stay put and she would come to him, he was more than willing to do as he was told.
The last time he'd seen her, the little Xingese girl had just finished healing her. She'd had her throat slit in an effort to 'convince' him to perform human transmutation. It hadn't worked, but had it not been for that girl, she could have died.
No. He wasn't going to think about that. About how close she'd come to getting killed because of him, how many times she'd come so close. He'd focus on the here and now, he'
( ... )
When the door opened and she saw him, her heart raced faster. Maybe it is real, oh god don't let him vanish again. She wanted to reach out and touch him, feel the familiar blue fabric of his uniform, the scar on his right hand, the warmth of his skin. The last time she'd seen him, been this close to him, he had been cold and pale. She remembered his skin felt almost the same as the medals on his chest and she had forbidden anyone else from getting near him.
He wanted proof? It was almost funny. Half the reason she was here was to prove that he really was who he seemed to be. But there were a thousand, a hundred thousand things that only he knew, that only they knew. She frowned and met his dark eyes, searching them as she thought.
"Your back," she said with a slight nod. "I made a promise to watch your back after you made my father's research illegible."
He regarded her warily as she thought it over and made a visual assessment, searching for something -anything- out of place which would signal that she wasn't Riza Hawkeye. There was no blood splashed across her throat and over the side of her face, but that didn't mean anything.
Everything seemed in order... and then she spoke and all doubt was thrown out the window. If he could have thrown his arms around her and hugged her for all she was worth without having her think he'd completely lost his mind, he would have. Truth be told, when the transmutation had started, he'd thought he'd never see any of them again.
"And apparently I'm still on your good side because you haven't killed me yet," he replied, and absently extended a hand toward her before pulling it back when he realized that she probably wouldn't appreciate it if he bled all over her.
Always, she wanted to say. Always always, even if you lead me to hell I will always protect you. But her mouth wouldn't open at first. This was so normal, it was almost as if the last six months had never happened.
"I believe I have the strength to continue to put up with you a while longer, sir," she said, a stock answer pulled out of an archive she had thought would be closed forever.
Her heart leaped, fearful, when his hand reached toward her and was drawn back again. It was the only way she could be sure he was really here and not just a product of the mist and her mind. She reached out for him, moving slowly, and touched his hand. Solid. Real. Warm.. Her heart felt like it was squeezing tight in her chest and her fingers trembled - just a little - as they closed gently around his wrist and turned his hand palm up. Blood. She didn't care if it got on her, because it was not from his throat, but from his hand. Where Wrath's swords had stabbed through. She closed her eyes and breathed out, eyelids stinging a little against
( ... )
Comments 25
The Lieutenant's presence, even if it was just via the forge, had done wonders to calm his nerves --she'd always been the voice of reason in their relationship, like an attractive conscience-- so when she'd told him to stay put and she would come to him, he was more than willing to do as he was told.
The last time he'd seen her, the little Xingese girl had just finished healing her. She'd had her throat slit in an effort to 'convince' him to perform human transmutation. It hadn't worked, but had it not been for that girl, she could have died.
No. He wasn't going to think about that. About how close she'd come to getting killed because of him, how many times she'd come so close. He'd focus on the here and now, he' ( ... )
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He wanted proof? It was almost funny. Half the reason she was here was to prove that he really was who he seemed to be. But there were a thousand, a hundred thousand things that only he knew, that only they knew. She frowned and met his dark eyes, searching them as she thought.
"Your back," she said with a slight nod. "I made a promise to watch your back after you made my father's research illegible."
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Everything seemed in order... and then she spoke and all doubt was thrown out the window. If he could have thrown his arms around her and hugged her for all she was worth without having her think he'd completely lost his mind, he would have. Truth be told, when the transmutation had started, he'd thought he'd never see any of them again.
"And apparently I'm still on your good side because you haven't killed me yet," he replied, and absently extended a hand toward her before pulling it back when he realized that she probably wouldn't appreciate it if he bled all over her.
Reply
"I believe I have the strength to continue to put up with you a while longer, sir," she said, a stock answer pulled out of an archive she had thought would be closed forever.
Her heart leaped, fearful, when his hand reached toward her and was drawn back again. It was the only way she could be sure he was really here and not just a product of the mist and her mind. She reached out for him, moving slowly, and touched his hand. Solid. Real. Warm.. Her heart felt like it was squeezing tight in her chest and her fingers trembled - just a little - as they closed gently around his wrist and turned his hand palm up. Blood. She didn't care if it got on her, because it was not from his throat, but from his hand. Where Wrath's swords had stabbed through. She closed her eyes and breathed out, eyelids stinging a little against ( ... )
Reply
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