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The service was lovely. It had rained the night before so there was a coolness in the air that seemed to infect everything. The grass and the rustling leaves of the trees around the tombs seemed greener and more alive than they should have given the solemnity of the moment. The sun warmed the small party gathered in front of Brigadier General Maes Hughes’ tomb.
Little Elicia read a poem written by her mother without mispronouncing her words, a fear she had shared while greeting her earlier. When she cried at the end, Gracia came to the rescue and finished the piece for her while the girl hugged her tightly by the hip - it still surprised Riza how much she had grown in four years.
Everyone clapped, and after the Fuhrer offered some kind words, they all started to walk back to the cars.
Riza was driving the Fuhrer home and was supposed to have lunch with him; they were about to leave when they were first intercepted by Mustang and then by Gracia. She was about to maneuver the car back to the street when the young widow rushed an invitation to her and the Major General for coffee.
Riza glanced briefly at the Fuhrer in the back who entertained himself making Elicia laugh through his window. Mustang accepted Gracia’s invitation immediately, but she hesitated. They had returned for a trip from Ishval not so long ago and rumours between the two were finally quieting down as they always did.
Gracia pushed her.
“It won’t be long, there’s something I’d like to give to you. Both of you,” she clarified.
“Sure,” Riza agreed, “I’ll take Fuhrer Grumman back to his state and drop by shortly after lunch”.
Despite his insistence, Riza decided to walk from his state to Gracia’s house. Grumman tried to convince her to take one of his cars, even offered the official one, but she wouldn’t relent.
“It is going to rain,” he pointed out.
In the time they had been inside all the fair weather of the morning seemed to have vanished giving way to a thick humidy that clung to the air. Dark greys cloud loomed from the west and the sun no longer seemed warm but rather suffocating instead.
She looked up and shrugged. “If it rained, I’d still need to bring it back and I’d found myself in this very same situation, only later. Hailing a car from the Hughes’ would be less expensive,” she countered back, closing the door behind her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She knew he meant well, but if she had to take the car back, she would have to have dinner with him as well and one meal was enough. He had harassed her with getting married enough times for the day.
Riza arrived to the building in less time than she had expected to the enthusiastic shouting of little Elicia who had spotted her from her window and received her in the hall of the building mere seconds later. She chatted hurriedly all the way up pulling from her hand energetically; in a blink, they were inside where Gracia and Mustang were sitting at the lunch table still.
“I’m so sorry, she had too much sugar,” Gracia apologised picking an empty tray full of sugary, colourful crumbs as Elicia jumped from Riza’s side to the back of the couch and then to the window before hopping on one foot back to the table. “Elicia, darling, could you please go change and put on your blue dress?”
The little girl who had been singing by herself next to Mustang stood in attention and dashed to her room excitedly.
“My extended family on her Dad’s side will be coming later, can you guys help me move some of the furnitures around?”
She pointed the sofa should go by the wall and the table in front of the window to make room before picking the coffee table up and disappearing with it in the kitchen.
Riza moved the chairs around the room and chuckled when she saw Roy attempting to push the heavy wooden table on his own. He looked at her, taking exception.
“Couldn’t you just ask for help?”
“And prevent myself from hearing you laugh?” He taunted.
Gracia just walked into the room preventing her from replying. She was carrying a cardboard box when the doorbell rang.
“Oh, no,” she sighed.
“Granny!” In a blur, Elicia had opened the door, ran one flight of stairs and pushed all the guests outside in; too quickly, they found themselves surrounded by the Hughes extended family. In another blink, they had abducted the Major General.
To be honest, Riza found herself as entertained as the rest of them while listening Mustang telling all the stories he could recollect about his time in the Academy with Maes. Elicia had climbed next to him and sat with her elbow on his knee, resting her face in her hand, deeply interested in his telling.
As he finished his last story and another round of coffee and cookies was passed around, she noticed his smile falter slightly as the late Brigadier General mother's murmured her admiration and thanks. They exchanged a brief look and she knew he was as ready to leave as her.
Gracia snuck up on them on their third attempt to leave as she was trying to disentangle the Major General from Hughes’ first cousin twice removed.
“Oh, guys, I’m so sorry. I meant to have a word with you alone,” she grabbed Mustang by the arm softly. “Can you two join me in the kitchen?”
Something required Gracia’s attention back in the sitting room as they shuffled into the kitchen, which was full with foil clad trays and various sandwiches. She saw him wandering nonchalantly to the counter, ignoring her warning glance.
“Don’t,” Riza admonished him as she saw him lifting the paper foil of one of the trays.
Roy had the decency to look at her sheepishly, but didn’t stop.
“We are leaving in a few minutes and we won’t taste any of them; that’s hardly fair on us and dear Gracia,” he pressed as he continued unwrapping the tray to uncover a dozen of cinnamon rolls. “I promise I’ll share.”
Riza tried to look as exasperated as she knew she ought to be.
Gracia came back and took the tray away, much to Roy’s chagrin before he actually took one. She placed the box she had been carrying earlier in the counter between the two so rapidly and so graciously, Riza chuckled at Roy.
“You know we are moving to a smaller place, much closer to my parents’ and Elicia’s school so I’m...” she breathed out shakily looking at the two of them. “I’m putting away some of Maes’ things, giving out some others and saving some for when Elicia is of age; and I found these,” she unlid the box to show several yellowish envelopes tightly tied together.
“Most of them are from you to him, Roy, of course. There are a few drafts as well” she stated. “And I thought you may want them. You know, in case you ever want to write your memoirs or something,” she took two brown paper envelopes from the box before passing it to him. “And then, these have your name,” she said giving the envelopes to Riza.
In a quick glance she noticed at least thirty photographs of the old team, some of her and Rebecca, a smaller white envelope in one of them and one folded paper that looked like one of the old green forms used at Central HQ a few years ago.
“They are a few pictures from the last time he was in Eastern Command,” Gracia confirmed.
Riza pulled one of them and found herself staring at four-year younger versions of herself and Rebecca Catalina, smiling from a hall - ‘To 2nd LT. R.C.’ was scribbled at the back of each.
Without taking the rest out, she peeped at a few of the whole squad; there was at least one copy of each picture.
“Thanks, Gracia, this is so unexpected,” she admitted, her throat thick, “but very appreciated. I’ll take care that everyone gets their picture.”
As she was engulfed in a tight embrace, Riza spied on Roy’s from Gracia’s shoulder. His hair hid most of his face as he thumbed through the stack of letters.
“Thanks...” he began, without looking up. “This would, um, definitely be handy when I start writing my memoirs.”
Gracia let go of Riza, chuckling and hugged him instead. “I’ll be looking forward to reading it.”
After saying goodbye to little Elicia, promising to visit once they were settled in the new place in order to be let go, they wandered into the street in silence.
Riza looked at the darkened sky and then to the street in hopes of getting a car to get home without getting wet and sick in the process; from the corner of her eye, she studied his companion, fidgeting with the car keys still in his pocket and clutching the box with the letters tight against his chest.
“It seems like it’s going to rain again,” she mentioned, putting her precious gift in an inside pocket of her jacket. “I’d better hurry as everyone seems to be already home, even cab drivers.”
Mustang seemed to startle at her words and looked up before looking at her and then at the keys finally in his hand.
“I’ll drive you home, Captain.”
Riza considered it. “No need, I can walk. It’s closer and less...”
“Conspicuous?” He smirked at her and opened the door for her. “Come on, as you said, everyone is already at home.”
They did not talk for the remainder of the drive, aside from a few remarks from her on the weather and the deserted state of the city. She gave up after getting only a few nods in response from him and blamed it on the shower that suddenly drowned her words; he was usually responsive if not the one leading the conversation, even though there were times they wouldn’t talk at all, Riza felt the need to check on him.
Roy stopped the engine in front of her flat complex and looked at her. It was so dark and the rain so heavy that the streetlights have been turned on in spite of the early hour.
“You don’t have an umbrella.”
“I always have mine at the office,” she admitted. As she made to open the door, he stretched himself towards the back seat and drew one.
“Let’s wait for the rain to let up, and I’ll walk you,” he said placing the umbrella on his lap.
“I’m only twenty steps from the door, I’ll be fine,” Riza retorted.
“I can take Black Hayate out for a walk, too.”
“You could always leave the umbrella and I’ll take it to the office tomorrow.”
“And risk myself getting sick for an act of chivalry?” He sounded so outraged she rolled her eyes. “I think sharing a coffee is a better exchange.”
“Is it now?”
“It is. You don’t like me that much when I’m sick.”
Riza snorted. No one liked him when he was sick - he was not a nice patient.
“You are not supposed to go to work when sick.”
“And have you telling me that it’s very irresponsible of me to lose a work day because I was very irresponsible to get sick in the first place?”
She sighed; there was no way she was winning this. He had never cared about the rumours between the two, and he was certainly not going to start now. Riza understood why he seemed especially adamant today but she bantered anyway.
“It sounds like a vicious cycle.”
“Easily broken by me accompanying you and then taking your lovely pet for a walk.”
“Under the rain?”
“With an umbrella,” he beamed proud of his logic. “I would only take him to the backyard, as you are bound to do, without it.”
“How considerate of you, sir,” she pointed out, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“What can I say? You being in good health is of utmost importance to me and do not feel bad, I would only ask for a cup of coffee as means of payment.”
Riza pursed her lips and prevent herself from rolling her eyes again. Honestly, she’d rather have him teasing than brooding. She considered her options: it was Sunday, but it was mostly a military complex meaning every soldier would be in their home. It was also Hughes’ Anniversary and the day was as depressing as it could get already.
He was looking at her in earnest, waiting for her approval as he was bound to do whenever they were on their own. It had been a month already since they had come back from Ishval, they could give their usual gossip mongers something new to talk about.
“Fine, we can have some coffee and you can help me sort out these pictures. I believe some will have to be sent North and some East.”
He smiled in a short-lived victory as she opened her car door. Riza laughed to herself as he practically jumped out of the car to reach out to her side.
“I’d like to point out how helpful I am proving myself to be in this rain,” he said as they hurried inside. He would never let go of that.
The pit patter of the unrelenting rain against the tense fabric drowned the sound of her laugh so she gave him a smile when he insisted.
Deep down, she knew the darkness she had seen earlier was still there, ready to swallow him whole at a moment’s notice but as they met with Hayate and he left with him walking briskly as the dog tried to run, she pretended none of it was real. It was nice, even if for some little time she could pretend there was only light for the both of them.
They came back after she had set the coffee tray by the sofa, he had Hayate’s leash in one hand and the box of letters in the other.
For a little while, they entertained themselves with the warm drink and the treasured objects each of them have. Mustang pointed out several letters in which he complained about Maes’ devotion to her wife and lack of important information.
He laughed at how several times he ended the letters with threats and how each time Maes ignored him and added even more insignificant details in the next one. They had found out early on that it was easier to pass each other messages or code information that way.
The first letter was dated when he was still at Central City on his leave after the war and it had been his RSVP to Hughes wedding. The last one had been a boring note complaining about Fullmetal destroying Lior and Grumman winning at Chess, again; they were talking on the phone a lot more those days and having Kain around meant communications could be encrypted much more easily.
As he read out some passages he deemed worth of interest and censored those in which she was certain he complained about her and his paperwork, she had set the original photographs in the table. There were fifteen original photos taken during the Lieutenant Colonel last visit to Eastern city. She was supposed to keep those as her name handwritten in the back indicated. Out of these, five copies she was supposed to give to their former team. Rebecca would receive three - one as a photo crasher of a very solemn picture the team had attempted to take, one copy of the one with Riza and the single copy of the one she parodied a magazine model lying uncomfortably in an office sofa. Aside from the first five, the major general would get four originals himself, one of him by the window, one where Maes was hugging him by the shoulders and him looking not so appalled by the idea, another of the two of them and little Elicia - she remembered taking it - and one of her smiling shyly at the camera while in civil clothes. She pushed the little stack to his side of the table, her picture at the bottom of the pile rolling her eyes at the obvious message in the gift.
She was about to complain she hadn’t got one of the then coronel just to bother him, when she remembered that picture had been taken in a chance encounter a sunny Saturday morning she had dropped something at the Lieutenant Colonel's office in Central when Mustang had failed to meet a delivery deadline the day before. Hughes had convinced her to have her picture taken as he only had one left to develop the whole photo roll.
Four years later and it felt like two different lifetimes.
As she piled up the remaining pictures by their respective owners, she felt the brown envelope that carried them, remembering the little note folded and the second white-now-yellowish envelope with her name on it.
Two more pictures fell from it when she opened it.
Dear Lt. Riza Hawkeye,
I apologize in advance for the delay in these getting to you. I promised they would be with you in a month-time but I forgot about the discount they give you when you develop a full photo roll.
It was really lucky that you had to be in Central these past few days.I like my photo rolls to stay with one theme so I can order several copies of each and give them away. I trust you will make sure they reach who I considered their rightful owners. If you think any of them would not like the picture or would accept it, feel free to send it back to me. Do not worry about the expense, I am sure we can charge it to our dear old Roy.
If not, I am bound East after my beloved Elicia’s birthday so you can give them to me then. I am enclosing a picture of her colouring her birthday cards and another of her helping her dearest mom.
I look forward to seeing you soon and will wait for your reply until we meet again.
Yours truly,
Lieutenant Colonel M. Hughes
P.S. Check the paper quality! Isn’t it amazing?!
She frowned at the letter - it was as simple as it got, mere instructions as she was known to be responsible but it was a bit too serious and detached for Hughes. The absence of a date meant he had written it before being sure when he would be able to send it; the closing paragraph and the post scriptum were all his though, brief comment on his life, and drew a smile on her face.
She laughed a little at herself when she touched the paper to feel it. Even despite all those years, the paper had retained its quality. It had yellowed out in the outer sides but it was still hard and despite being folded, the creases were not very visible. She raised it to take a better look at it against the light; and then she saw some lines in white in a lighter ink began to appear.
Written in what must have been heat sensitive ink, she read a small addendum between jesting at Roy expenses and the next paragraph: you should consider dating him. He’s not as bad as he looks.
And another almost at the end. As I trust you with the safekeeping of these pictures and you finding out about these messages, I trust you with passing the attached message to Roy when the right time comes for you’re most likely to be by his side when that happens.
She rolled her eyes at the useless attempt at being discreet but smiled in spite of herself.
“What?”
Riza looked at Roy who had been trying to read over her should ever since she had unfolded it.
“Nothing. It’s just he hid a very obvious message in my letter.”
“What is it?” He inquired reaching for the paper.
“It’s private,” she replied softly, putting the letter away and giving him Elicia’s pictures instead. “Take a look at these instead.” She felt him rather than saw him rolling his eyes but he took the pictures anyway while she looked for the attached note that seemed to have been lost in the way.
As it had not been dated, maybe the note had not come to existence either.
She then remembered the folded piece of paper in between the pictures and picked it up. As she had suspected earlier, it was an old form paper with several doodles on it - an appalling drawing of Alphonse Elric’s Armor and what seemed to be a cat caught her attention. She unfolded it only to find another piece of paper inside of it, her name followed by a colon written in black ink drew her attention back to the first piece.
Riza: smart woman, stop reading. Just pass the message when the time comes. Please.
“Ah, he tried to convince me to use that ink but I thought securing our lines was better and much faster,” her companion deducted, raising himself from the table to go to her side. “What does it say?”
She crumbled both pieces of paper in her hands.
“Still private.”
He looked half hurt and half outraged. Riza bit her lip to keep herself from laughing.
“I can’t believe that even after all this time he manages to bother me.”
Riza shrugged nonchalantly, “Old habits, maybe.”
“He tried and in the end he succeeded,” he continued complaining good humouredly as she packed the rest of the pictures so they could be dispatched in the early morning. “He tried to put you against me and he finally did it...” she turned away to look for more envelopes to put Vato’s and Hayman’s stack of photos. “What a pest of a man, how... how do I miss the bastard.”
Riza turned back to him slowly. She placed a hand on his shoulder softly and before she could fully realized he had hug her and was holding her tightly.
“I know.”
Riza scanned the room and stifled a yawn pretending to drink from her champagne glass. Satisfied with the state of the crowd, she looked at her glass with pity, it was hot and almost bubbleless - she was losing her touch as incognito agent. Nothing was amiss, as Hayman had promised and told her, and almost growled at her last time she checked.
She changed the glass to her left hand and with her right, she felt the holster of her gun under her dress. It was no secret she hated State Parties. The older she got, the more uncomfortable and the more awful they seemed to her. It had been a hectic week and she was glad it was almost over. Riza glanced around the room once again, but this time looking for a specific person.
She found him to the left of the room, closer to the exit than she had anticipated. Probably because it had been a hectic week for him as well. Even though, it had been announced months prior, the assumption of the new Fuhrer had been a wearisome endeavor. Riza wondered as she walked towards him, if given the choice, he would still choose the endless stuffy meetings, the parliamentary debates that grew heated each day and the pompous parties where he drank little and ate less over his old office and hated paperwork.
“We’re making a difference, Riza. One that matters,” he sentenced still looking at the crowd celebrating a new beginning.
Ever since the fraternization rules have been amended, he had taken to calling her by her first name whenever they were alone. She was not so keen on it, especially when he considered themselves to be alone while surrounded by five hundred other people. Probably Havoc and Catalina intercepting anyone that wanted to reach to him was making him extra confident.
She agreed with him, but she would still miss the quiet days and the noble and easy responsibility that filing forms and documents were.
“Are you tired, Sir?”
Führer President Mustang shrugged. If Riza felt uncomfortable in shiny dresses and intricate hairdos, he seemed completely at ease in spite of the heavy suit. “Just the usual,” he looked back from the people dancing at Havoc and Catalina’s insistence to her. “Want to dance?”
She denied with a smile and his expression fell.
“I have a message for you.”
He seemed to have been expecting anything else but the small square of folded paper she extended to him or maybe recognizing the piece after such long time had rendered him speechless.
“Oh... this is...”
She nodded. “I was supposed to give it to you when the time came.”
Roy snorted. Riza could now see that the paper was extremely fragile breaking at parts as he unfolded it. A single line in regular ink occupied its center; but she still couldn’t figure it out the words as Roy had lowered his head and part of his hair obscured her view.
A single drop fall in the signature at the end and blurred Maes Hughes initials.
“He just never gave up,” he elaborated, still looking down.
Later that night while they were driving back to her place and meant to part ways, as she wondered how long he could keep her and the rest of his custody from forbidding him to drive his own car without any security, he startled her by bringing up the little note.
“You never read it?”
“It wasn’t mine to read,” she answered matter-of-factly.
“Weren’t you curious?”
“Of course, but again, it wasn’t mine to read.”
Roy turned off the car and she looked towards him.
“It was given to you and you kept it for almost 3 years and never ever read it?”
Riza chuckled softly.
“Is that so hard to believe? It was given to me to pass it to someone else. It was not mine to read.”
“And you do not want to know what it says?”
There was so much teasing in his voice that Riza felt tempted to say no.
“Only if you want to share,” she admitted in defeat.
He passed her the note smirking and she felt his eyes boring into her as she read the single legible line in black ink.
Congratulations, Roy-boy! Just marry her already!
Riza let out a breathy and shaky laugh. He did never give up.
“So, will you?” Roy brought her attention back to him and looked at her with a mixture of excitement and earnest, and maybe even nervousness?
“What?” She replied, smiling and half crying if she had to be honest. “Eyes on the road, please.”
“Will you do it?" He ignored her but manouvered to the side. His eyes glistened in the streetlights and she supposed his grin matched hers.
"Do what?"
He laughed and Riza followed though much more nervous and much lower.
"Will you marry me?”
She felt her own hands shaking as they breached the short distance in between and she kissed him softly.
“I thought you’d want him to ask for me.”
“He was just there as aide and support.”