Photographs

Disclaimer: Don't own FMA. Just like to play with the pretties.

There were rules to the game and Riza always played by them. Her first tenet was that dating had to be a precursor to sex. She needed to get to know her date; she needed to connect emotionally, figure out what made them tick. She needed to get them pliable. Then, of course, there had to be a decent seduction. Pushing the pistol in their face as soon as they got into the apartment would never do. She had to shock them carefully. They would shimmy out of their clothes in the hallway, exchanging a few mild kisses, and giggle their way to the bedroom. Then, and only then, Riza would push her date onto the bed and shove a gun in their mouth, saying in a thick, throaty voice, "You better do what I tell you." The shock creeping over their face as their eyes opened wide was beautiful. Those little sounds of panic and the heaving of their chest made her heart flutter pleasantly. Once she was sure they understood the gravity of the situation, she'd cock the trigger for emphasis and add, "Or I'll shoot." The threat was apparent from the moment the mouth of her gun hit the back of their throat, but hearing it spoken aloud always did wonders for their complexion. By that point, they'd be thinking about how fast a bullet could bite through their mortal flesh while they tried to tell themselves the gun surely couldn't be loaded. When their resolve seemed to creep back, their ruddy complexion evening out, she would fumble around with her free hand and "accidentally" spill a few bullets in the process.

She always made sure they got out of their clothes first. Blood on her casuals would likely spark interest after a few months in the laundromat. She'd pondered suffocation for quite a while, wondering if a blue-tinged lover would give her just as much satisfaction. But the warm, sticky blood made her breath irregular and knees weak in a way no gasping lover could. Besides, getting out of their clothes in the hallway gave her plenty of time to gain the upper-hand by the bedroom. Why they never noticed her palm the gun right in front of them was beyond her. Perhaps it was because they, unlike her, were already slaked with lust, oblivious to most anything.

She normally dated younger women, fourteen to seventeen, though occasionally she'd find a passive man. She had to make sure of two things; they had to let her go to their place after the date and they needed to keep their relationship an utter secret. There were two ways she could promise that: she could date a young, closeted girl who was barely comfortable with her sexuality or she could choose someone in the military. The mere thought of fraternization charges would normally keep their trap shut. And besides, it didn’t normally last long enough to make the secret hard to keep. Riza was just careful and wanted to make sure she couldn’t be attached to the corpses of young girls and second-guessing men.

She laughed that day, telling Edward Elric how much she hated her gun but it was a necessary evil to protect her ideals. But sometimes, at work, she’d run her callused finger over the trigger and imagine a warm, breathing, squirming body below her and she’d get so wet. A necessary evil indeed. The office rumors and gossip amused her immensely. Apparently she was in love with Roy, Havoc, and Edward (though that disgusted them slightly with the huge age gap). No, she’d never touch Roy. He was too much of an egotistical bastard, and though she’d like to feel him squirming, she doubted it would ever happen. Edward, though his age didn’t bother her in the slightest (she had gotten some of her best orgasms from fourteen-year-old girls), was unwilling to let a woman take charge of him. And besides, he was probably gay. Havoc? Well, let’s say that he didn’t interest her that much. She normally avoided dating smokers. Anyway, all these men were blocked off by another unspoken rule—you don’t kill people who will get a real investigation. Kill cadets, not officers, if you want to keep the murders quiet.

Ah rules! Rules were what got her the product—a squirming fifteen-year-old girl, seduced into her own bed after being fed tripe about her family misunderstanding her. This was art within itself. Riza didn’t always like to torture them but sometimes, to get the point across, a couple extra shots were necessary. This girl’s will was stronger than Riza had expected so a broken collarbone was necessary. Blood oozed readily from the nasty wound and Riza dabbled her free hand around the jagged hole, feeling the blood pump out readily over her fingers, coating them in the viscous liquid. The girl was so close Riza could tell. Her breathing was ragged and her eyes were dimmed, not in lust this time, but from blood loss. She ravaged the girls’ body with the phallic weapon, pressing the gun into the soft flesh of her stomach, listening for the fading whimpers. The climax was a gun shot to the head while she played with herself.

This girl was lucky to bring her to such orgasm, Riza told herself repeatedly. And to allow herself to be such a work of art. She’d take a shower in the girl's bathroom, get her casuals from the hall, and pretend next morning, like every other morning, that she was still not dating, focused so much more on work than sex and relationships. The rest of the office paid too much attention to their libidos. They should get their paperwork done.

She stepped back from the girl, looking at her bloody lover through the lens of her camera. "Say cheese," she said tonelessly. Not waiting for a response, she ignited the flash and took the last picture anyone would take of Jessie Grisham while the young girl's body was still warm.

Her most important and final rule was that she had no confidants. Well, except the camera, who, hopefully, would never betray her.

---

It was one of those boring days in the office. Riza leaned back in her chair sure that her entire day would be consumed with paperwork and forcing Colonel Mustang to do his paperwork. Next week would be much more interesting; the Elric brothers were coming back from their latest mission. It would only be interesting because Mustang knew from the third day the mission would be a bust. Such scandalous information could not fail to reach the Fullmetal Alchemist's ear.

She pulled out her gun, listening to Hughes explain in great detail the murder of a young girl. "She was only sixteen!" Hughes said, his eyes wide and dramatic, each word punctuated by a stabbing motion of his hands. "There were knife cuts down her sides and blood everywhere!" He finally took out a graphic picture as if to punctuate the statement with bloody evidence.

"Oh Hughes and your photographs..." Riza thought, laughing lightly, slowly piecing her gun apart to clean it carefully. After all, it had only been two days ago that she discharged four bullets from the gun. And she needed it in pristine condition.

If only to protect the Colonel.

Havoc looked down at the picture and his face suddenly tinged green. "What's really concerning," Hughes continued, ignoring the paleness of the Second Lieutenant's face, "is the bullet wound in the head." Hughes traced the photograph's edge, afraid to get fingerprints on it, but somehow wishing he could touch the girl's body, create contact with the photographs he lived through.

Havoc, feigning some interest in the story, not wanting to upset Hughes, looked at the body of the girl. "But there are also cleaner shots to her shoulder. As if they wanted her in pain. This wasn't just a murder..." Hughes stopped talking and adjusted his glasses as he spoke, looking at Havoc meaningfully.

"It was a rape. A highly sadistic rape," Havoc said, knowing what Hughes was about to tell him.

After all, this was the seventh of such murders in the past year and Hughes couldn't help but to show off photographs to any innocent bystander.

Riza rolled her eyes, annoyed that the investigations committee would categorize this under “rape.” Murder, she could understand in the eyes of the unenlightened. But in her mind the correct category would always be “art.”

The specs on the gun had already come in. The gun was a military pistol, the young messenger told Hughes, slightly uncomfortable around an officer of rank. They were already looking for leaks of military weapons to the public, the young cadet recited carefully, trying not to stutter.

Somehow, even though a First Lieutenant was cleaning that exact model right in front of them, they could never blame Riza Hawkeye for the murder and rape of five young girls and two military cadets. She was too busy with work to get involved in something like that. She barely had time to make it to the shooting range.

Havoc simply nodded to the young man, thanking him for his work. “I ought to get back to my desk,” he said finally, picking up his photographs. “With this case, we could have new evidence at any moment.”

---

She went through her closet, knowing that something silky and seductive was in order, but, still, she had to be able to carry a weapon on each. If the weapon had to be in sight, she could always claim her status as an officer. But it was somehow offsetting to wear a crimson dress, slit up to her mid-thigh with such a brutal weapon in sight.

Third dates were always the hardest to dress for. The date where she wanted to seduce them in their living room. Perhaps the hallway would do. Kissing on the first date. Touches on the second date. Blow their brains out on the third date.

"No, that's not the way to look at it," Riza reminded herself, letting her hair down in front of the mirror, marveling at her honed, naked body. "I'm creating art, remember?" Her eyes wandered over to her sacred camera in the corner.

It was so much easier to dress for the other dates. Although she brought her gun along every date, just in case, she could wear more concealing clothes that hid a weapon better. Sometimes she wondered if she could wear less revealing clothes on the third date. But by that point she was so pent up and wanted to release the trigger so badly she didn't want to lay anything to chance.

The outfit started piecing together. First, the matching black demi-bra and thong made their way to the bed. Next, a blood-red, v-neck, sleeveless top and a black miniskirt. It might be a little chilly so she strapped her gun into a black jacket she could toss over her shoulders. The camera fit in the pocket. Add a dash of stilettos and she was free to roam.

---

Hughes was showing photographs to anyone who would look. "The Snuff-man..." Riza thought dryly. "Couldn't they have thought of a better name?"

"The problem we're having," Hughes told a very interested Alphonse Elric, "is that there's no semen—" He paused and stared when a very angry Edward Elric pulled his metallic brother away with a quick shove and a nasty glare. Hughes' shoulders dropped and he watched the two alchemists make their way out of the room. "You're lucky you didn't sustain any injury," an amused Colonel said, watching the blonde alchemist complain animatedly to the suit of armor about Hughes' lack of discretion.

Hughes finally turned his attention to Riza, pushing a candid photograph of Ginny onto her desk. Ginny liked toffees, small dogs, and wanted to become a photographer. How ironic that Hughes would end up pimping around photographs of her dead, molested body. But of course Hughes didn't know any of that... And besides, Hughes' photograph was blurrier than hers, slightly out of focus. Her picture of Ginny had developed beautifully. Her pale face accentuated her light freckles perfectly. And the blood pooled around her black hair... This photograph didn't do her work justice. If only they could hire good photographers in the Investigations Department.

"We're having a problem..." Hughes began, but Riza cut him off, placing the tip of her fountain pen on his nose, leaving a dripping ink stain. "I know," she said simply. "The Snuff-man isn't leaving behind any semen. Does that mean he leaves the crime scene to jack off? Have you even checked if these girls are still virgins or not?" Riza shrugged, her lips pressed tight together as she grinned wickedly at him. Ginny was a virgin. But Katherine and Lizbeth weren't. Jessie had lost her hymen while fighting with two boys at eleven. Ah, what Hughes didn't know, couldn't tell from his precious photographs. At least her photographs spoke to her.

Did he know if Elysia was still alive if he pulled her picture out of his wallet? Did he know if Gracia was still faithful? What did his photographs mark? He had too many, that was the problem. Riza was careful to pick the most serene and serious moments before she brought out her camera.

Gracia one month pregnant, two months, three months... all the way to the eighth month... Sometimes you could tell the difference, sometimes you couldn't. "A before and after picture would have sufficed," Riza thought, trying to distract herself from Hughes. "Why did he need to take twenty-six pictures at Elysia's birthday party? If he chose the correct moments, the times of perfection, he could have one faultless memory of his daughter.

Hughes frowned lightly and pulled away, his hands out of sight below her desk. She knew he was playing with his wicked knives at that point. Though she couldn't see his fingers and the sharp blades the telltale twitching of his shoulders gave it all away.

Riza forced herself back into the situation, looking at Hughes coyly, her eyes moving from his shoulders back to his face. "Maybe," she said carefully, "you should be looking into murder, not rape. File the paperwork right, Maes...And I'll make sure it gets to the right people." She looked away from the photographs disdainfully, pushing them back towards him. "And hire a better photographer. I'll even make sure the expense report is taken care of."

She was sure Hughes thought this was a murder case. However, an easily misfiled piece of paperwork could have lead Hughes' superiors into thinking that this was a murdering rapist. What an ingenious way of getting money for an investigation before this “Snuff-man” had touched an officer. She picked her pen back up, ignoring Hughes for the moment. Her rules might need slight amendments now that Hughes had found a way to make this investigation truly military business.

The mail came in a few moments later, suddenly reminding Hughes that he needed to get back to his office. "Thanks Lieutenant!" he said before scooping up his precious, precious photographs and making his way back to the Investigations Department.

---

Normally she didn't drink coffee, but because she had stayed so late in the office last night, catching up with the paperwork she had set aside to go meet with Ginny, Riza found herself yawning around four o'clock, far too early to go home and take a nap. She went to the break room, a place she despised as being full of rumors and worse, people skiving off work. She wanted to just quickly grab a cup of coffee and make her way back to her desk.

Her pristine mug was in the cabinet; no one ever dared to touch it. She had the entire office almost as well-trained as Havoc and Mustang. Her reputation preceded her. Sometimes she wondered if the new officers were warned about her when they were brought to the office.

Well, perhaps not, she thought grimly as her ass was groped as she grabbed for the coffee pot. She finished pouring her coffee and turned around, drawing her gun quickly to face whoever groped her.

Maria Ross was grinning widely at her and leaned in to whisper against her ear. "I'm so sorry if this is breaking rank, Lieutenant, but it looks like you've been going to more than the shooting range lately."

"Your ass is really tight," Maria added after a long pause, her moist breath tickling against the shell of Riza's ear. "I think dinner is in order. Tonight, eight o'clock, Devida's. Followed by some drinks..."

Riza stared as Maria sauntered away with a wink. "Eight o'clock, Lieutenant."

---

Riza sat at her desk confused but glad she had just ended her relationship with Ginny. Rather satisfactorily, actually.

She opened her calendar and penciled in, "Eight o'clock. Dinner at Devida's. Maria Ross."

---

When Riza got to Devida's, Maria was already at her table. The bottle of red wine on the table told Riza they were going to begin the alcohol early on this date. She'd have to keep her wine if she was going to take care of the pistol strapped to her inner thigh.

As she approached, Maria told her how nice she looked, her eyes skirting over the lacy peach camisole and the black miniskirt. Maria stood up, gave her a quick kiss and they sat back down.

Riza moved her napkin into her lap and crossed her ankles politely, ignoring the cold bite of steel into her tender thighs. Thank god she had put her camera into her purse.

She wondered if it had been a mistake to wear clothes she normally wore on a second or third date. But as she eased into conversation with Maria, her worries were assuaged a bit. They talked about everything. Rumors in the office. Personal life. Well, everything except those gruesome murders. Every time their conversation moved towards that topic, Maria gently steered it in another direction.

The wine glasses were filled and refilled several times. It was a mediocre wine but it was alcoholic and neither of them could ever afford a good vintage so it tasted good enough.

Riza, who could hold her alcohol, was surprised at how tipsy she was when she stood up, the sudden dizziness coming over her. She giggled lightly and Maria told her they needed to take a cab home. Riza nodded and watch Maria saunter off in her tight black slacks suddenly aware of the warm metal between her legs.

Maria came back a few moments later and led her outside of the restaurant, wrapping an arm around her waist. Riza looked down at Maria with flushed cheeks. "We should go back to your place," she said, breaking one of her tenets. If she went back to Maria's place, they would probably end up having sex on the first date. The fact that Maria was an officer had still not hit her.

But when Maria smiled and leaned up to give Riza a hungry kiss, nothing like those timid gentle kisses her young lovers shared, Riza kissed back hard, wondering if she could redefine her rules to allow such exploration.

When the taxi driver arrived, Maria had her hand up Riza's shirt while the slightly inebriated blonde sat in her lap. It took two harsh honks for Riza to blush and pull away from the desperate kiss. She smiled apologetically at the driver and pulled her shirt all the way down, covering her midriff. Another rule broken. No public displays of affection.

The driver laughed at them and asked them how much they had to drink. Riza simply curled up against Maria and let her tell the driver where to go, her mind pleasantly fuzzy and her body wonderfully warm.

They stumbled their way into the house and exchanged a few more sloppy kisses before Maria pushed Riza up against the wall in the hallway. She suddenly reached between Riza's legs and grabbed the gun, pushing it up between Riza's breasts. "Mmmm... I never thought I'd date The Snuff-man," she said grinning, looking down at the pistol between Riza's ample cleavage.

Riza looked at Maria shocked, unable to figure out how she put the pieces together. Maria pushed the gun deeper into her cleavage, that familiar pistol, and Riza lay flat against the wall, worried more now about how she was going to survive this.

Still pressing the gun against Riza's heaving chest, Maria looked back at the umbrella stand. She hadn't bothered to clean up before Riza had come over, so she grabbed the red bra hanging over the umbrella stand. She looped one of the straps around Riza's left wrist, tightening it until it held her well.

Riza's eyes widened but she did nothing to stop this. The kisses, the groping, they had been nothing like the tender lovers she had before. The ones she could take advantage of so easily. She had broken another one of her rules.

She had let her guard down.

She didn't argue as Maria looped her right wrist with the same bra, tying them together. After all, she had brought this upon herself by breaking her rules, by ignoring her tenets. Carefully, Maria tossed the gun into the living room, listening as it landed on the sofa. Now, with two hands, she took the stretchy red bra and hooked it over the coat hanger, leaving Riza helpless against the wall.

Maria stepped back, taking a good look at her now powerless comrade. "Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye..." she said carefully, stepping toward Riza with obvious lust in her eyes. "It looks like you're wearing much too much."

Riza didn't know where the knife came from but just as quickly as Maria procured the knife, her clothes were scattered in ribbons on the floor. There was little to no alcohol left in her system to pad the fear so she closed her eyes, hoping that if she did so, she wouldn't remember it.

But she gave Maria an opening as she closed her eyes. She felt the soft tickle of silk on her face, and before she knew what was happening, the scarf was tied tight behind her head. Every touch and kiss would be a surprise now. She'd have no warning. The cool air was making her shiver and her nipples were so hard. It was almost a blessing when she felt warm lips on her breasts and fingers pressing at the dull bruises scattered throughout her inner thighs.

She arched into the touch, welcoming the warmth and heard a light giggle from in front of her. A tongue licked gingerly at the hard nub of her nipple before Maria took the whole thing into her mouth, scraping her teeth gently as she tongued the rippled edge.

Riza had lost control and there was nothing she could do about it now. The fingers playing with her bruises were making her wet as hell but giving no real relief. The mouth, now nipping at the sensitive flesh around her nipples, were making her breathe in small pants but did nothing to sate her sudden arousal.

She whimpered and fuck, she'd broken another rule. She would never beg; she would always take. But her hands were tied up, she was hanging from a coat rack, and she was blindfolded. How the hell was she supposed to take!?

Suddenly all contact was gone and there was just the cool air on her skin. She whimpered again, wanting the moist lips and playing fingers back. After a few moment she felt Maria's warm, moist breath on her ear. "Tell me what you want, Riza," she heard and it make her shiver even more.

"I—I want you," she heard herself saying. That couldn't be the alcohol talking because she'd metabolized that long ago. Even in fear, she couldn't imagine herself saying such a thing. That must have be the lust talking, a new emotion, a new sensation she'd never felt before.

"Really?" she heard, but it was further away this time. "I think I can tell that... You're so wet." A hand was groping her ass again and she breathed in suddenly, not expecting the contact. "You do have such a nice rear, Lieutenant," Maria said in a husky voice. "But these blonde curls..." Oh god, she could just hear the smirk in Maria's voice.

Fingers suddenly tangled in her pubic hair and she whimpered, trying to push back against Maria's hand, force it lower. "Touch me," she said quietly, wishing she could see the officer before her.

"Like this?" Maria asked, trailing her hand up Riza's chest, stroking between her breasts.

"N-no," Riza said, finding this new game ridiculous. Maria stroked her nipples with that hand and she bit her lip. "Do you like that?" Maria asked, leaning it to kiss Riza again.

Suddenly, the game seemed to have fair rules. Riza liked rules that involved her being able to retaliate, actually give, not just take.

After all, before she blew their brains out, she always gave them the best night of their lives.

Maria's kisses were never gentle, and well before Maria's tongue was in her mouth, she could taste the tinny flavor of blood in their mouths. Riza nipped at Maria's lower lip and the woman pressed up against her, tangling her fingers in the blonde locks to pull her closer.

Riza gasped when suddenly, Maria broke the kiss, trying to catch her breath. Maria's thigh was between her legs and her breasts were pushed up against her own. Riza struggled against her restraints for a moment, but the coat hook was too curved to get the bra up and over.

"I like you like this," Maria said, pulling back, her sticky juice on Riza's thigh. She traced a finger back down towards her aching clit. "Because I'm enjoying this little game, Riza."

Her answer was a simple moan as Maria stroked her clit, lapping at Riza's thigh, cleaning up the mess she had left. "I like to see you helpless," she continued, licking at the corner of her mouth. "Without your gun, you don't seem to be as dominant."

Riza sighed her acknowledgment. "Just make me come," she whimpered, thrusting against Maria's stroking hand. "Hard, fast, and now..."

Maria laughed, nipping at Riza's inner thighs, riddled with bruises already. "But Riza, we've barely started playing the game!"

Maria pulled back again, trying to tell Riza she wasn't in control. Warmth swirled around her other nipple as Maria took it into her mouth, sucking, nibbling, and finally pulling back, leaving the blonde breathless and hanging. Maria's hand sneaked behind her to stroke the small of her back. The touches were light, but not uncertain at all. More than anything, Riza just wished she could see where they were coming from. Expect them. Be in some sort of control.

Eventually the touches ceased entirely. Her small whimpers did her no good; she only felt the cool air on her skin. She couldn't even hear Maria. Eventually she resorted to begging, asking where Maria was, why she was doing this to her. After that, she slumped into unconsciousness, her arms above her head losing feeling and her body craving sleep.

---

When she woke up, her body ached so badly. Her arms felt like they were dislocated and in her fog of sleep, she couldn't remember why. "What happened last night?" she mumbled, throwing her arm over her eyes. Suddenly, she pulled her arm off her face, her eyes snapping open.

"I'm late for work!" she cried, rolling out of bed, hitting the floor hard.

Apparently, rolling out of bed was a bad idea, because the pink, silk scarf that had blindfolded her last night was now tied carefully around her wrists while another similar scarf was tied around her ankles. That alone wouldn't have been enough to incapacitate her, but the ties around her ankles seemed firmly secured to something higher than the bed, keeping her from pulling herself back up. She couldn't move more than an inch in any direction. She was naked and helpless on Maria Ross's floor.

At least she wasn't blindfolded this time, she told herself, watching Ross stride into the bedroom. “I heard you fall off the bed, Riza,” she said, wrapping her arm around Riza's waist and helping her back on the bed, carefully groping her in the process.

"I'm late for work," Riza said, frowning. "The least you could do was wake me up in time. Or let me sleep untied!"

"No 'thank you' for getting you off the floor?" Maria asked, pouting as if she was genuinely hurt.

"Thank you for helping me back onto the bed, Maria," Riza said in a monotone, like a kindergartener forced into repentance. "I'm glad to be of help," Maria answered in a jovial tone, getting out a hairbrush from her nightstand.

Maria sat on the bed next to Riza and started brushing her tangled blonde hair. "And no, you aren't going to be late for work. It's Saturday," she said, finally addressing Riza's concerns.

Riza racked her mind, trying to figure out how she lost track of the days. Well, she did work the last sixteen days without taking a weekend off. Before leaving she remembered vaguely Colonel Mustang telling her she could take the weekend off. No, he told her she had to take the weekend off. Wasn't she the one who normally worked his schedule?

Maria pressed her hand down on Riza's shoulder. "Hold still," she said. "Your hair is really tangled."

Riza looked at her confused. "Why are you brushing my hair?" she asked.

"When you take a shower, it's hard to clean tangled hair," Maria said with a grin. "Don't you want to get cleaned up? You're pretty messy..."

Riza changed the subject immediately, leaning in to give Maria a dizzying kiss, sucking on her lower lip, grazing it with her teeth. "Mmm... Maria, I didn’t expect you to be the kind of girl who would leave her lover unstated. Or the kind of girl that would leave herself unsated."

"Oh, I wasn't unsated," Maria retaliated with a sly wink. "I masturbated for hours watching you tied up like that. And besides, I think not giving you what you wanted was a very good lesson for you."

A dejected look passed over Riza's face. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, trying to keep a grumpy tone out of her voice.

"Your little girlfriends and boyfriends beg for you to not shoot them, Riza..." Maria said, stroking her fingers through Riza's hair softly. "Why don't you ever listen to them?"

Riza paused, the gentleness of the touch and the seriousness of the question taking her aback. "I—uh..." She looked up at Maria, not quite sure what to say.

Maria silenced her with a kiss. "I think you need to learn to listen to other people, Lieutenant," she told her, slowly untying her ankles. "You have all this power in the office. You have all the power in the bed. Isn't it about time you let someone else choose the rules?"

Rules. This was a game, Riza reminded herself. If she could figure out the rules, she could still win. She played to win, right?

She leaned forward, giving Maria another kiss. "So, in a relationship," Riza began, but was silenced by Maria's fingers.

"In a healthy relationship," Maria emphasized, staring to work on Riza's wrists.

"So, in a healthy relationship," Riza began, looking behind her at Maria. "You need to listen to what the other person wants."

"And not leave them hanging," Maria added with a wink.

Riza laughed at that and flexed her wrists, glad to finally feel the blood flow again.

Maria climbed into Riza's lap, sensually wrapping her legs behind Riza, tilting her head up for a kiss. "Riza," she said with a serious look on her face. "If we listen to each other, we can both get what we want."

The kiss wasn't as hard this time. Their lips were bruised from last night and they both had small cuts in their mouth. Riza licked at the edge of Maria's lower lip and the woman sighed open her mouth, allowing entrance to the prodding tongue. For a while, just kissing was good, their tongues seeking greater dominance, their lips pressed tight against each other. Eventually, however, Maria pulled away, her cheeks flushed and her lips shiny.

Last time, Maria had gotten undressed while Riza was blindfolded, but the dark-haired officer had redressed while Riza was sleeping, preferring to sleep in pajamas. The flannel bedclothes were easy to take off, but Riza took her time, kissing at Maria's neck as she undid each button with care, stroking at the bare skin as it was exposed. Maria's gasps were light and more feminine than Riza would have expected from her serious demeanor. She brushed the flannel top off of Maria's shoulders and caressed her breasts, holding them in the flat of her palm, the dark nipples hardening against the calluses of her fingers.

Riza nipped at the tendons on Maria's shoulder then sought her mouth again, swallowing the sighs and gasps while her fingers still massaged the officer's ample breasts. Maria's hands had been clasping the sheets, looking for anything to hold onto, but they wandered up Riza's back, one taking a firm hold in her hair, the other holding herself steady, pressing up against small of the blonde's back.

Riza pulled back again, giving Maria's lips a quick peck as she spread light kisses down along her cheekbones, her jaw, collarbone, the hollow of her neck. The boxers Maria had been wearing under the flannel shift were rubbing between them as Maria ground against her, promising a friction burn eventually.

Riza pushed Maria off of her, laying her flat on the bed, squaring herself above her, grabbing the hem of the boxers in her teeth and pulling the slightly sticky fabric over the woman's hips and all the way past her feet, careful to brush up against any sensitive skin she could find. Riza unclenched her jaw and dropped the boxers on the floor, right next to the discarded scarves.

Slowly, Riza began reforming her control that Maria had crumbled so easily last night. The ache in her arms was a constant reminder that Maria, if she wished it, could easily turn the tables once more. She held herself above Maria's body again, looking at her lusty face, licking at her lips, and nipping at her collarbone. Eventually she began licking down Maria's body, caressing under her breasts with long sweeps of her tongue, nibbling at the ribs exposed whenever Maria gasped a breath in, and eventually swirled her tongue around Maria's navel.

She dipped her tongue in for a taste then licked around the soft curves of Maria's stomach, her fingers grasping at Maria's hips, curling under to stroke her ass. She carefully nipped Maria's inner thigh listening to the feminine sighs echo away, replaced by hungrier throatier gasps and moans. Eventually, Maria gave up, threading her fingers in Riza's hair, aching for contact.

After only a bit of teasing, wanting to give Maria what she desired so much, Riza licked along the edge of the officer's swollen labia, tonguing the edge lightly before exposing her clit and scraping her teeth lightly across it. Riza pulled back, much to Maria's complaint, so she could reposition herself, bringing a hand between Maria's thighs to thrust a finger in while she worried Maria's clit in her mouth.

She added a second finger, stretching Maria and sucking harder, listening as the intensity of the moans grew. Eventually Maria came hard, clenching around her fingers. She drew the orgasm out, still sucking at her clit. Maria was breathless and lay against the bed for a while before leaning up and licking her juice off of Riza's face, kissing her once there was nothing left to clean up.

They kissed gently for a while, Maria still licking at the edges of Riza's lips and cheekbones, able to taste a shadow of herself. Eventually, Riza pulled back and licked along the shell of Maria's ear. "In a healthy relationship," she began, drumming her fingers down Maria's back, "we both get what we need, right?"

Maria laughed, kissing at Riza's neck. "I said want, sweetie. But I think you're right. You need it as well." Maria bit hard at Riza's neck, drawing a bit of blood. Riza gasped in surprise but then mumbled incoherently as Maria lapped at the wound and pressed her back against the pillows. “So tell me what you want, Riza...”

“I want you to touch me... rub my clit hard, take it between your teeth, lick it, thrust your fingers hard into me and make me come and scream your name,” she panted out in one gasp, her eyes rolling back as Maria massaged her breasts, leaning forward to suck hard on one of the nipples.”I'm...I'm ready Maria... please... I just want... need...” Riza managed to say, licking at her suddenly dry lips.

Maria didn't bother to answer, just dove her head between Riza's thighs, licking up, finding that hard nub and suckling. Riza had never been this wet without a dying lover in front of her and even then she'd never felt this good. She thought she was calling out Maria's name, but she seemed to be forgetting what she meant to say a few seconds after it was said. She felt overwhelmed but as Maria pushed a couple of fingers roughly inside of her, the orgasm swept her and this time she was sure she called out Maria's name, shuddering under her touch.

Maria gave Riza a sloppy, juicy kiss as she grinned, cuddling up against the blonde officer. Riza turned over, giving Maria a much harder kiss. “Maria,” she said, grinning widely. “You gave me what I needed. But you said we could get what we wanted...And if I'm not going to work today, I'm up to several more games...”

The look Maria gave her was priceless and Riza wished she had her camera. But the scarves were on the floor and the gun was in the living room.

Apparently neither were necessary.

---

A sticky, smiling, sated Maria Ross stared up at the camera. “Say cheese,” Riza said.

For the first time, one of Riza's lovers looked up at the camera, laughing lightly. “Cheese,” Maria said, sticking out her tongue.

Most of the pictures wouldn't be appropriate to put in a wallet. They'd stay home with Lizbeth, Jessie, Tom, Mark, Ginny, Carol, Katherine, and Marie. Maria stood up and told Riza she was going to take a shower, which somehow translated into Riza taking one with her.

---

Before Riza pulled her clothes on to make her way back to her room in the dorms, Maria paused. “I was doing dorm security,” she said quietly. “And it might not be me next time that finds those photographs on top of your dresser. If you're going to keep them, I suggest you move out of the dorms.”

Riza stared at her for a while, trying to figure out what she was talking about. Then her eyes went wide and she nodded. “I've been thinking about getting my own flat,” she admitted, swallowing hard, having forgotten about the people that came to check on the rooms. Finally, she looked down at Maria and cupped her cheek gently. “Thanks, Maria. For everything.”

---

A couple of months later, Hughes came up to Riza's desk but the photographs he shoved in front of her were of Gracia holding a young Elysia. “See the new necklace we got her?” he gushed, pulling out eight different variations of the same shot. Riza felt for her wallet, not her gu,n and laughed lightly, thinking of the one appropriate shot she had of Maria in her wallet.

As it was perfect, she only needed one.

---

The case was abandoned seventy-nine days after there were no more clues. Eight people had been murdered: six girls and two military cadets. The military had no idea who did it. They had the specs on the gun and plenty of photographs but no suspect.

Maria sauntered over to Riza's desk, spreading the Investigation Unit's terrible photographs over her pristine desk. “They've closed the case, Riza... The Snuff-man never touched another person... I wonder why?” The look of innocence Maria shot her was pure and pristine. It took everything Riza could muster to keep from laughing aloud.

She neatly stacked the photographs and placed them in her desk. “Hughes better not find out you took these,” Riza said calmly, first making sure no one was around.

“He's too busy with that new rapist,” Maria said offhandedly.

“Probably,” Riza answered lightly, shutting her desk drawer. “He did get his paperwork filed correctly this time.”

“So you've really stopped?” Maria asked, leaning over Riza's desk, playing with her fountain pens, accidentally spilling ink.

“Well, I am seeing someone,” Riza said firmly, quickly taking her pens away from Maria.

“Tonight?” she asked hopefully.

“Of course,” Riza added, a smirk on her face. “But this time, let's last long enough for drinks.”