Embers And Envelopes

Embers and Envelopes
Chapter 2: Bad Timing

Disclaimer: Not mine. Sorry. Wish I did.

Summary: The date from hell, a jealous lover, and PROBABLY the most awkward night ever. Lemon will be next chapter, I promise, so expect some down and dirty smut.

**

Riza twisted in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to twist her hair up. These disguises were part of the reason she hated going undercover. She jabbed a few more bobby pins into the soft blonde mass on top of her head. It was a little messy, but it would have to do.

She left the bathroom and slumped down in front of her dressing table. Picking up a pot of foundation, she started to change her entire appearance. During these missions she likened herself to a geisha, changing her entire appearance to fit a certain role prescribed. She let her mind wander as she mindlessly did her face, knowing the routine by heart. She applied foundation several shades darker then her natural skin tone, and carefully blended it, and slowly applied rouge.

When she was finished she sat back and appraised the results. She looked so different, but then again, that was the point. Black Hayate sat in the corner and beat his tail on the floor in approval. Dressed silly or not, she was still his master.

Riza stood up and walked over to the only large mirror in the room. It covered her from head to mid-thigh. A soft black skirt was offset by a lavender top that twisted around over her breasts and tied behind her neck. She carefully tied a black silk scarf around the base of the bun in her hair and allowed the ends to trail over her back and shoulders.

Grabbing her jacket, she looked into the mirror one last time, before hoisting a shoulderbag containing Roy’s requested files onto her arm. She gritted her teeth under the immense weight and turned to lock her apartment door behind her.

At least Roy was getting what he wanted, anyway.

**

Standing in the busy Square, Roy leaned on the hood of Havoc’s company car. Havoc had the window rolled down, taking deep drags on his cigarette. He flicked ash out the window, and Roy sighed.

“Dammit, she’s late!” Roy checked his pocket watch, watching the hands tick past 7:04 to 7:05.

“Relax, chief,” Havoc said lazily, stretching in the front seat. “It takes her a couple hours to get dressed, anyway.”

Roy turned to Havoc, confused. “How do you know how long it takes Elizabeth to get dressed?”

Havoc paled slightly and took the last long drag on his cigarette, flicking the butt out the window. “I was just sayin’, don’t it usually take women a long time?” He fumbled in glove compartment for a fresh cigarette. “Hey, can you light?”

“What? Oh,” Roy snapped his fingers dangerously close to Havoc’s face and instantly the cigarette in his mouth flared and then went down as he began sucking on the filter.

“Where you taking her, anyway?”

“I have dinner reservations, and then going back to my house.”

Havoc choked. “Your house?”

Mustang grinned with his customary smirk. “Well, yeah. I mean, a date with me, and then she’ll just be dying to have an intellectual conversation.”

In the darkness of the vehicle. Havoc blanched. Dammit! He was going to try and sleep with her, wasn’t he? Son of a bitch. He brightened slightly at the remembrance that it was Riza Hawkeye they were talking about, and then groaned again when he realized that once Riza was in Mustang’s company for the night, he’d be alone again for the evening.

“Sorry I’m late!” A higher pitched, feminine voice echoed across the square as a striking young blond hurried to them.

Both Havoc and Mustang had to stop and stare. God, why couldn’t Riza look like that more often? Her hair was twisted up and back, and her outfit…Christ. Long, pale, slender legs stretched out from under her short black skirt, and the halter top she wore accented the breasts that were usually hidden under her military uniform.

Roy found his voice first. “Elizabeth! Great to see you again.”

Riza smiled prettily, if slightly forced. “Of course, si—“ Riza stopped midsentence, catching the sir. “I mean, Colonel Mustang.”

Roy grinned broadly at his subordinate. “Call me Roy.”

“Yes, Roy.” Roy swung open the back door to the car, and stood back. “Come on, I have dinner reservations for us. “

Riza slid into the backseat, followed by Roy, who slammed the door.
Havoc stared at Riza in the rearview mirror, taking in the brunt of her appearance. She was beautiful, no doubt, but underneath the sexy clothes she seemed tense. Staring hard at her, he could see a tic working near her eye, and part of him wanted to comfort her, and the other part wanted to slap the shit out of Roy for taking her out like that.

Oh well. Best bet was to just get through the damned night.

**

Riza twisted in her chair, mindlessly bored. Roy chattered on and on about the military, the weather in Central, Amestrian politics, and every other pointless detail he could conjure up about anything.

God, was he always so damned boring on dates with other women? Maybe this was why he rarely had a second date with any of them.

She grasped blindly for the bottle of wine on the table, pouring herself her second—or was it her third?—glass. Roy watched, amused, as she upended the bottle into her glass and nursed it eagerly.

“Am I that poor a conversationalist?” Roy smiled at her sweetly. Riza widened her eyes at him, mocking.

“Of course not, Roy.” Her throat was tired from the slightly higher-pitched voice Elizabeth spoke in.

He smirked at her over his own glass. “Then I guess we should forget dessert and get on with the evening.”

That seemed like a good idea as any to Riza. She quickly drank the rest of her wine as Roy hailed the waitress and paid the bill. She was curious as to how much he actually spent on their “date” but the matter was over and done with before she had a chance to snag the case.

She stood quickly, and Roy helped her shrug on her jacket. At least he was a gentleman. But as he left her to struggle with the ridiculously heavy purse, made so by those files he requested, all notions of his chivalry went straight out the window with Havoc’s cigarette smoke.

Havoc drive silently, determinedly keeping his eyes on the roads before him and not on the couple in the back of his car. Riza had seemed slightly unsteady on her feet, leaving the restaurant. It certainly wasn’t the shoes, because earlier in the evening she had walked like a runway model.

He pulled up in front of Roy’s home. Although she’d been there before, Riza certainly wasn’t used to the sight, such a departure from her own typical apartment complex. It wasn’t especially lavish, but the decently sized two level house always made her wonder what he did in it all by himself.

Roy jumped out of the car and opened her door before she had a chance to herself, and helped her out of the vehicle. He offered Havoc a mischievous smirk before tapping the man on the arm. “Thank you for you services, First Lieutenant Havoc.”

Havoc’s eyes met Riza’s briefly before he pulled away. “Right, chief.” At first glance her eyes were expressionless, and then upon closer inspection, saw they held mainly annoyance mixed with flecks of tiredness. At least, that’s what he though before Roy whisked her away.

Roy took Riza’s elbow and lead her up the porch steps, and unlocked the front door.

“Finally home!” Roy said brightly.

When Riza spoke, her voice was raspy. “Yes, sir.” She stripped Fuery’s glasses off her face and rubbed her eyes. “Those damned glasses always give me a headache.”

“Either that or all the wine at dinner,” Roy suggested with a smirk.

“If you were better at being entertaining with your conversation I wouldn’t have had to drink until you were interesting,” Riza shot back.

Roy flinched slightly at the burn. “Ow.” He moved to take her coat from her, and throw it onto the coatrack in the foyer. “Well, then, on to my study.”

Riza’s heels clicked on the shiny wooden floors, and for some reason she wondered how many women had walked these floors before her. Her eyes took in the polished mahogany furniture in the house, including a beautiful cut-glass crystal vase of fresh flowers. The carpets seem freshly beaten and shampooed, and Riza had a sneaking suspicion that Roy didn’t do it himself.

“How do you keep your house so neat?” she asked the back of his head, as he walked in front of her. “Judging by your office, you damn well don’t do it yourself.”

“I have a housekeeper come in a couple times a week. A middle aged woman from Lior, Sarah. You’ll probably run into her eventually,” he explained.

“What makes you think I’m ever coming back here?” she retorted. She followed him into a pitch-black room, stopping short as she slammed into his back. “Dammit, turn on the lights.” She turned blindly, and caught the corner of a table in her thigh. “Son of a bitch.”

The lights in the room flared and then eased, filling the room in a soft glow. It was a study, all right. A desk lined one wall, with a fireplace on another, while a couch and coffee table filled the middle of the room. Riza rubbed the bruise on her leg in annoyance.

Riza kicked off her heels, sighing at the relief of being able to relax. Roy sat down on the couch, crossing an ankle over his knee. Taking advantage of his position, Riza heaved her shoulder bag at him. Roy tried to catch it and grunted as it hit him in the stomach. “What the hell do you have in here, Riza?” he demanded.

“Your files,” she said sweetly. She dropped to her knees on the carpet across from him, and opened the clasp of her bag, withdrawing the folios. “We have every internal military acquisition for the past year like you said.”

“Why the hell is it so big?”

“Because there are close to 100 military divisions and if they’re like us they go through authorized supplies like water!”

Roy groaned. How the hell was he supposed to know there was going to be so much? This wasn’t the plan. He picked up the top folder and skimmed it, but when his interest waned he watched Riza over the top of the papers. She looked beautiful in the soft lights, not in the bulky, shapeless military uniforms.

“You know,” he said, drawing on his charm, “if you want I can light the fireplace—“

“No,” she said brusquely, not even looking at him. “Now stop slacking and read the damn papers.”

Roy dropped the folio and picked up another. He was skimming the 7th page when a thought struck him. “What the hell are we looking for, anyway?”

Riza froze. He was fucking with her, right? She slowly looked up at him, and saw him sitting there, perplexed. Oh, this was too much.

“What are we looking for?!” Riza lost it. “Discrepencies! Problems! Anything that can help us with this!” She jumped to her feet, in full fury. “You bring me out on a ridiculous date, under false pretenses, and ask me why!? I should be asking YOU why! You’re the most arrogant—“

Roy had had enough. He too stood, but in the middle of her tirade, rather then surrender, he kissed her.

Roy’s own conciousness was screaming at him “YOU IDIOT!” but he couldn’t help it. Oh God, he couldn’t help it. And for the first time in the history of him knowing her, she was struck silent.

Riza was dying. It was a kiss she could have only dreamed of, and half of her was giving in and half of her was ready to kill him. How dare he do this to her, and put her in this position?

Her rage began to win over her lust, and she pushed him back with all her strength, seething.

Roy fell back onto the couch and he looked at her in her towering fury. Her face was flushed, her hair mussed, lips reddened from the kiss. Oh gods…

Roy may have thought she looked beautiful, but Riza was ready to kill him.

Her lips moved, but no sound came out. She was shaking with anger, and finally she was able to utter something coherent.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you bastard!”