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Wooooo. [spins finger in air] It's RAINING AGAIN, and this time we've got spectacular lightning and thunder--everyone always told me SEATTLE was the place where it was always wet and rainy and gray, but it's been raining pretty much nonstop HERE since Friday, soooooooo. XD
Anyway, fics! First off, the second birthday requestfic I owe![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
harukami (the first being here, for something completely different from this XD), and something of a twist--she asked for a genderswitch!Roy. [grins] Minor spoilers for anime ep15, but set probably sometime before the series proper begins--i.e., I'm guessing Ed's probably fourteen-edging-on-fifteen in this.
**********
Water
Rae Mustang swims constantly, and owns no umbrella; these are her almost-secrets.. Men who know her by name and reputation are surprised when they learn this; they expect her to hate the water, to shun what symbolizes her greatest weakness.
Her actual secret is that she is terrified of water, but she faces it like all other fears: directly, to master some degree of control over it, so that it cannot rule her. When she has time, she uses both obstacle course and pool at the gym, and every time she climbs out of the water, she thinks *One more for me* with a grim kind of satisfaction.
And the greatest irony is that the most horrific nightmares of her adult life have to do with heat, with the choking suffocating weight of the desert sun. Then again, perhaps not: there were places where the sand was smooth as silk, and noonday heat rippled from it like reflections off the ocean. Some nights, she awakens and feels like she can't breathe because sand
(water)
is being poured down atop her, by the bloody charred hands of the lives she stole. The Rockbell doctors are there, and so is their daughter (though she's never touched the girl, never ever, couldn't even *look* at her that one rainy night), who smiles at her like an angel and drops the last handful of water
(sand)
on her face. Rae does not scream when she wakes from these nightmares, but once it wakens her, she does not sleep again for the rest of the night. If they came any more frequently, it would be a problem, but over the years, they have tapered off, diminished by the inevitable passage of time.
One is all, all is one. She remembers hearing Fullmetal mutter this once, as he poured over books in the library, unaware of her presence. She did not get close enough to see what he was reading: she could easily guess. His quest is what he defines himself by, though the rest of the world weighs him by the automail limbs that give him his second name. One is all, all is one.
Rae is familiar with that style of learning, and it does not surprise her that Fullmetal is of that school. It suits him, too brilliant and bright to be stopped--and still so very insignificant despite that.
Today it is raining, and she stands by the window and watches it come down. Her hands are clasped beside her and her gloves are in her pocket; even so, she rubs thumb and middle finger together. She feels restless, uneasy, like the weight of disaster is about to come sliding atop her. Last night, she dreamed, and her eyes feel sandy and heavy, her body oddly weighted down, as though water has soaked into her uniform and drags her under. It gathers between her eyes and aches dully, like the slow heavy roll of thunder.
She hears the door open behind her and does not turn; she knows the footsteps that walk towards her, then stop before they reach her desk. Because it's dark outside, the window picks up his reflection perfectly. "Fullmetal," she says.
"Colonel." There is discomfort in his voice and the way his body moves in the window. He may be too young to understand many things, but he has served the army well for years, and there is no doubting his instincts about conflict. Rae sees him hold out a small sheaf of papers, and not quite look directly at her, even with her back turned. "My report."
Slowly she turns to him, walks the short distance between them and takes the papers directly from his hand. He is taller, she thinks; more of his wrists stick out from the end of his sleeves, and the top of his head is lined with her nose, rather than her chin. "I hear you've been busy," she says, when he starts to back off, ready to leave.
He freezes, looks at her warily. She meets his eyes and does not insult him by smiling.
"A little," he says, at last. "They … the dam was breaking, and *something* had to be done." He shrugs, like it's no big thing. "I happened to be there."
"And the young lady trying to get you to teach her?" Rae makes a show of leafing through Fullmetal's report when his head snaps up, staring at her in surprise. A moment later, his shock melts into familiar disgruntlement.
"I told her no," he said gruffly. "I'm not teaching material."
"Pity," she says, still watching him from the corner of one eye. "Not to your tastes?"
She sees him turning that over in his head a few moments, before his face goes red. "She was *twelve*." *You perverted Colonel,* he doesn't add, though it's vividly clear in his expression. "That's--don't go projecting an adult's thoughts onto a little kid!"
"Children aren't as innocent as we'd like them to be," she says, as she goes to her desk and sinks into the chair, raising her eyebrows at him over the edge of the paper. "Hughes was peeking at girls when he was eleven."
Fullmetal gapes, and, impressively, his blush deepens. It was probably rude, she thinks; he thinks of Hughes as a father (however much he would argue), and no child ever likes to consider that about their parents. "I don't--look, that's sick, I don't wanna hear that sort of thing about Brigadier-General Hughes," he stammers. "That's, um, well, it's--"
Rae chuckles, low in her throat. "It's never too early to have a crush, Fullmetal," she murmurs, and taps one corner of his report against her lips. He is watching, she sees, the way her mouth bows into a smile, watches the movement of her hands as though hypnotized. "That's all."
He continues to sputter at her for a moment, then garbles some sort of request for dismissal, smacking himself in the forehead when he tries to salute. She hides a wince at the sound automail makes, clanging off his skull, but he seems only slightly dazed before he turns and bolts for the door. The door to her office rattles with the force of his slam.
Her headache, she notes with no small amount of wry amusement, is gone. Outside, the rain is still falling, but the rhythm is more soothing now, less nails on a chalkboard and more fingertips down a lover's spine. The look on his face had been worth Hawkeye's inevitable disapproval.
Tonight, she thinks, she will go to the gym and swim for a while. And when she sleeps tonight, she knows she will not dream.
--end--
Secondly, a fic with a very corny title, but dealing with a crackpairing I'm oddly fond of. XD After we watched ep37,chirachira dared me to write this, so--minor spoilers for that (or the manga omake "Fight On! Second Lieutenant!!" whichever chapter that is), but nothing huge. Woo. XD
**********
The First Date
*"I prefer people like my older brother … I'm sorry, Lieutenant, you're not my type, so--"*
There were precisely three small cracks in the plaster of the wall opposite to his desk; Havoc had counted them multiple times over the past three weeks. He had the distinct impression that he was letting things slide by that he really shouldn't, and couldn't much make himself care.
*"You're not my type, so--"*
"Second Lieutenant Havoc," Lt. Hawkeye said. Very slowly, he turned to look at her. Ignoring the Colonel he could usually get away with--but even in his stupor, he knew better than to ignore Hawkeye.
She looked down at him thoughtfully, lips pursed. "It's come to my attention that, ah … well, to be blunt, that you've been entirely unsuccessful in finding yourself a girlfriend."
He twitched and made a pathetic noise. There was no need to rub it in, he thought mournfully. Catherine had been so cute, too, and Grace before her, and Allison before *her*--ah, he was so unlucky; women never seemed to notice him--
"Very well," Lt. Hawkeye said, her tone brisk. "I will expect you to pick me up at seven o'clock sharp tonight."
Havoc stared blankly at her. Then, as though the light suddenly flipped on again, he yelped and backpedaled, staring at her in something akin to horror. "What?!"
"You've been unresponsive and unproductive for nearly two weeks, Lieutenant," she said crisply, as she began to gather her things. "That sort of professional attitude is unacceptable."
"But--whossa--whaa--"
"Unless you have objections, I'm willing to give this a shot," she said, and smiled. He'd seen her do that before many times--but now it was *at* him, and that somehow made all the difference.
And she *was* awfully pretty.
He coughed, tugging at the collar of his uniform. "Then, uh," he said, slightly red-faced, "I'll see you tonight, First Lieutenant."
"We're off-duty right now," she said. "It's all right to call me 'Riza.'"
"… Riza." The name felt strange to him, like it represented mysteries untold. First Lieutenant Hawkeye he understood, after so many years--Riza was something entirely different.
"Seven o'clock, then?" She picked up her bag, then clicked her tongue sharply. From under her desk, Black Hayate trotted out, ears up and tail high. He followed at her heels as she turned and walked out.
"Seven, sure," he said, and watched her leave. A huge, stupid grin spread across his face as he turned back to his own desk, then blinked at the mess piled there.
"Hey, congratulations, Lt. Havoc," Breda said, popping up behind him. He looked at Havoc's desk, and whistled low between his teeth. "If she's willing to go out with you, even when you keep your stuff like *this*--"
"She's a very nice lady," Fury added, appearing on Havoc's left. "It'll be good for you to get out."
"Flowers are good," Farman added, to his right. "Something tasteful and understated, like the First Lieutenant herself--"
Someone coughed. As one, the four of them turned and looked at Roy Mustang's deadpan expression.
"So," he said, looking at Havoc, "you've managed to get a date out of Lt. Hawkeye."
Havoc blinked a few times. The distant part of his mind that had noted how pretty Riza was wondered, idly, if it was possible to outrun alchemical flame. "Yessir?"
"Congratulations," the Colonel said, still deadpan. "And good luck."
He walked to the door, pausing to shrug into his coat, then glanced back. "Don't bring her roses until the third date," he advised. "She won't take you seriously otherwise."
Then he was gone, and Breda whirled on Havoc, prodding him hard in the chest. "Not bad, not *bad*--he stole your girlfriend, so you can take his!" He ended that with a slap to Havoc's back, doubling him forward. "Congratulations!"
"Ah, no, it's--"
"Not roses, hm," Farman said. "Perhaps lilies, then--calias, because you wouldn't want to send the wrong message--white ones might work, as well--"
"I didn't think the Colonel was dating the First Lieutenant," Fury said to Breda. "Their relationship always seemed so professional--"
Breda slapped him on the back, too. "Ah, that's because you're young, and still innocent," he said grandly. "Really, it's probably just a cover up--"
"--irises might suit her, too, though where you'll find those at this time of year--"
"--I mean, who knows what goes on when she goes to report to him, and closes the door behind her? Nah, I'll bet they've been carrying on for years, now--"
"Sir, I don't think that's very professional to say; she'd kill us if she--"
Under the cover of their chatter, Havoc snuck out.
***
He had a brief moment of panic before he found her house--the Colonel insisted the people of his unit to keep each other's addresses and numbers in case of opportunity--and thought that, perhaps, he should have waited for the others to offer their "escorting" services again.
Havoc paused and tugged at his tie; he had, perhaps, tightened it too much before leaving. As he went up the stairs, the small doggy-door moved, and Black Hayate poked his head out. Rather than bark, he blinked at Havoc, then disappeared back into the house.
A moment later, the door opened, and Riza emerged, elegantly dressed in black. She'd left her hair down, fastened at the base of her neck with a fancier clip than she used at the office. Havoc gaped for a full half-minute before remembering himself and holding out the flowers--lilies, and white, as Farman had suggested. She smiled and descended the stairs from him, taking the flowers and setting them in the crook of her arm.
"We have reservations at the Blue Moon in half an hour," she told him. "Shall we, then?"
He babbled something that was probably agreement, and saw Riza smile at him again. He even remembered to open the door for her, even if Black Hayate took that as an invitation and jumped in first. Havoc was leaning forward, ready to shoo the dog out, when something clicked by his temple.
He looked up, and right into the barrel of a gun. Black Hayate whimpered.
"Bad," Riza said sternly, her tone every echo military command. "Out." She pointed with her other hand, and Black Hayate obeyed, hopping down and sitting with ears and tail lowered. Riza bent swiftly, tucking away the gun as she went, and took the dog's muzzle in her hands.
"I'll be home soon," she said. "Be good."
Black Hayate whined, but when she let go and stood up, he merely watched as she got into the car. As Havoc closed the door behind her, he looked down and found the dog staring at him.
Oddly, he heard the Colonel's words echoing in his head. *"Congratulations. And good luck."*
The date itself went relatively smoothly; the prices on the menu didn't make him wince to see, and Hawkeye had apparently read some of the same books he had, which meant that at least there was something to talk about over the meal.
Afterwards, he drove her back and counted down seconds until disaster. Things were going *too* well, and he was just *waiting* for something to happen--a tire exploding, maybe, or he'd say something that would completely repel her once they got to her house, or--
"You've passed my house," Riza said. He couldn't see her face in the dimness, but it *sounded* like she was smiling, at least. Embarrassed, he coughed and turned the car around.
Black Hayate didn't poke his head out when Riza got out of the car, but she didn't seem particularly worried by this, and Havoc belatedly thought that he probably should have opened that door for her, too. He got out of the car, and they looked at each other across the hood for long seconds.
"Was that, um." Havoc resisted the urge to pull on his collar yet again; he'd stopped after catching her disapproving look around the third time during dinner. "Did you have fun?"
Riza came around the car to stand before him. She was no more an alchemist than he was, but he felt like some small dissected specimen under a microscope, trapped in place. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at her left ear, rather than in her eyes.
She leaned up and kissed his cheek. He blinked at her, then *blinked* at her, eyes going wide and his jaw dropping to hang slackly.
"I enjoyed myself very much," she said. "I'll expect you on Sunday, at seven."
She'd already disappeared inside before her words registered. Like a man completely of automail, he turned to gape at the door. On his cheek, her kiss seemed to burn.
"Ha," he said weakly, to himself and the night sky, "ahahaha." Very gingerly, he touched his cheek, and thought, all over again, about how pretty she'd looked in that dress.
Three dates until he could bring roses. He'd have to ask around, and see where he could find irises at this time of year.
--end--
Now excuse me, I'm gonna go play in the rain♥♥♥♥♥
Anyway, fics! First off, the second birthday requestfic I owe
harukami (the first being here, for something completely different from this XD), and something of a twist--she asked for a genderswitch!Roy. [grins] Minor spoilers for anime ep15, but set probably sometime before the series proper begins--i.e., I'm guessing Ed's probably fourteen-edging-on-fifteen in this.**********
Water
Rae Mustang swims constantly, and owns no umbrella; these are her almost-secrets.. Men who know her by name and reputation are surprised when they learn this; they expect her to hate the water, to shun what symbolizes her greatest weakness.
Her actual secret is that she is terrified of water, but she faces it like all other fears: directly, to master some degree of control over it, so that it cannot rule her. When she has time, she uses both obstacle course and pool at the gym, and every time she climbs out of the water, she thinks *One more for me* with a grim kind of satisfaction.
And the greatest irony is that the most horrific nightmares of her adult life have to do with heat, with the choking suffocating weight of the desert sun. Then again, perhaps not: there were places where the sand was smooth as silk, and noonday heat rippled from it like reflections off the ocean. Some nights, she awakens and feels like she can't breathe because sand
(water)
is being poured down atop her, by the bloody charred hands of the lives she stole. The Rockbell doctors are there, and so is their daughter (though she's never touched the girl, never ever, couldn't even *look* at her that one rainy night), who smiles at her like an angel and drops the last handful of water
(sand)
on her face. Rae does not scream when she wakes from these nightmares, but once it wakens her, she does not sleep again for the rest of the night. If they came any more frequently, it would be a problem, but over the years, they have tapered off, diminished by the inevitable passage of time.
One is all, all is one. She remembers hearing Fullmetal mutter this once, as he poured over books in the library, unaware of her presence. She did not get close enough to see what he was reading: she could easily guess. His quest is what he defines himself by, though the rest of the world weighs him by the automail limbs that give him his second name. One is all, all is one.
Rae is familiar with that style of learning, and it does not surprise her that Fullmetal is of that school. It suits him, too brilliant and bright to be stopped--and still so very insignificant despite that.
Today it is raining, and she stands by the window and watches it come down. Her hands are clasped beside her and her gloves are in her pocket; even so, she rubs thumb and middle finger together. She feels restless, uneasy, like the weight of disaster is about to come sliding atop her. Last night, she dreamed, and her eyes feel sandy and heavy, her body oddly weighted down, as though water has soaked into her uniform and drags her under. It gathers between her eyes and aches dully, like the slow heavy roll of thunder.
She hears the door open behind her and does not turn; she knows the footsteps that walk towards her, then stop before they reach her desk. Because it's dark outside, the window picks up his reflection perfectly. "Fullmetal," she says.
"Colonel." There is discomfort in his voice and the way his body moves in the window. He may be too young to understand many things, but he has served the army well for years, and there is no doubting his instincts about conflict. Rae sees him hold out a small sheaf of papers, and not quite look directly at her, even with her back turned. "My report."
Slowly she turns to him, walks the short distance between them and takes the papers directly from his hand. He is taller, she thinks; more of his wrists stick out from the end of his sleeves, and the top of his head is lined with her nose, rather than her chin. "I hear you've been busy," she says, when he starts to back off, ready to leave.
He freezes, looks at her warily. She meets his eyes and does not insult him by smiling.
"A little," he says, at last. "They … the dam was breaking, and *something* had to be done." He shrugs, like it's no big thing. "I happened to be there."
"And the young lady trying to get you to teach her?" Rae makes a show of leafing through Fullmetal's report when his head snaps up, staring at her in surprise. A moment later, his shock melts into familiar disgruntlement.
"I told her no," he said gruffly. "I'm not teaching material."
"Pity," she says, still watching him from the corner of one eye. "Not to your tastes?"
She sees him turning that over in his head a few moments, before his face goes red. "She was *twelve*." *You perverted Colonel,* he doesn't add, though it's vividly clear in his expression. "That's--don't go projecting an adult's thoughts onto a little kid!"
"Children aren't as innocent as we'd like them to be," she says, as she goes to her desk and sinks into the chair, raising her eyebrows at him over the edge of the paper. "Hughes was peeking at girls when he was eleven."
Fullmetal gapes, and, impressively, his blush deepens. It was probably rude, she thinks; he thinks of Hughes as a father (however much he would argue), and no child ever likes to consider that about their parents. "I don't--look, that's sick, I don't wanna hear that sort of thing about Brigadier-General Hughes," he stammers. "That's, um, well, it's--"
Rae chuckles, low in her throat. "It's never too early to have a crush, Fullmetal," she murmurs, and taps one corner of his report against her lips. He is watching, she sees, the way her mouth bows into a smile, watches the movement of her hands as though hypnotized. "That's all."
He continues to sputter at her for a moment, then garbles some sort of request for dismissal, smacking himself in the forehead when he tries to salute. She hides a wince at the sound automail makes, clanging off his skull, but he seems only slightly dazed before he turns and bolts for the door. The door to her office rattles with the force of his slam.
Her headache, she notes with no small amount of wry amusement, is gone. Outside, the rain is still falling, but the rhythm is more soothing now, less nails on a chalkboard and more fingertips down a lover's spine. The look on his face had been worth Hawkeye's inevitable disapproval.
Tonight, she thinks, she will go to the gym and swim for a while. And when she sleeps tonight, she knows she will not dream.
--end--
Secondly, a fic with a very corny title, but dealing with a crackpairing I'm oddly fond of. XD After we watched ep37,
chirachira dared me to write this, so--minor spoilers for that (or the manga omake "Fight On! Second Lieutenant!!" whichever chapter that is), but nothing huge. Woo. XD**********
The First Date
*"I prefer people like my older brother … I'm sorry, Lieutenant, you're not my type, so--"*
There were precisely three small cracks in the plaster of the wall opposite to his desk; Havoc had counted them multiple times over the past three weeks. He had the distinct impression that he was letting things slide by that he really shouldn't, and couldn't much make himself care.
*"You're not my type, so--"*
"Second Lieutenant Havoc," Lt. Hawkeye said. Very slowly, he turned to look at her. Ignoring the Colonel he could usually get away with--but even in his stupor, he knew better than to ignore Hawkeye.
She looked down at him thoughtfully, lips pursed. "It's come to my attention that, ah … well, to be blunt, that you've been entirely unsuccessful in finding yourself a girlfriend."
He twitched and made a pathetic noise. There was no need to rub it in, he thought mournfully. Catherine had been so cute, too, and Grace before her, and Allison before *her*--ah, he was so unlucky; women never seemed to notice him--
"Very well," Lt. Hawkeye said, her tone brisk. "I will expect you to pick me up at seven o'clock sharp tonight."
Havoc stared blankly at her. Then, as though the light suddenly flipped on again, he yelped and backpedaled, staring at her in something akin to horror. "What?!"
"You've been unresponsive and unproductive for nearly two weeks, Lieutenant," she said crisply, as she began to gather her things. "That sort of professional attitude is unacceptable."
"But--whossa--whaa--"
"Unless you have objections, I'm willing to give this a shot," she said, and smiled. He'd seen her do that before many times--but now it was *at* him, and that somehow made all the difference.
And she *was* awfully pretty.
He coughed, tugging at the collar of his uniform. "Then, uh," he said, slightly red-faced, "I'll see you tonight, First Lieutenant."
"We're off-duty right now," she said. "It's all right to call me 'Riza.'"
"… Riza." The name felt strange to him, like it represented mysteries untold. First Lieutenant Hawkeye he understood, after so many years--Riza was something entirely different.
"Seven o'clock, then?" She picked up her bag, then clicked her tongue sharply. From under her desk, Black Hayate trotted out, ears up and tail high. He followed at her heels as she turned and walked out.
"Seven, sure," he said, and watched her leave. A huge, stupid grin spread across his face as he turned back to his own desk, then blinked at the mess piled there.
"Hey, congratulations, Lt. Havoc," Breda said, popping up behind him. He looked at Havoc's desk, and whistled low between his teeth. "If she's willing to go out with you, even when you keep your stuff like *this*--"
"She's a very nice lady," Fury added, appearing on Havoc's left. "It'll be good for you to get out."
"Flowers are good," Farman added, to his right. "Something tasteful and understated, like the First Lieutenant herself--"
Someone coughed. As one, the four of them turned and looked at Roy Mustang's deadpan expression.
"So," he said, looking at Havoc, "you've managed to get a date out of Lt. Hawkeye."
Havoc blinked a few times. The distant part of his mind that had noted how pretty Riza was wondered, idly, if it was possible to outrun alchemical flame. "Yessir?"
"Congratulations," the Colonel said, still deadpan. "And good luck."
He walked to the door, pausing to shrug into his coat, then glanced back. "Don't bring her roses until the third date," he advised. "She won't take you seriously otherwise."
Then he was gone, and Breda whirled on Havoc, prodding him hard in the chest. "Not bad, not *bad*--he stole your girlfriend, so you can take his!" He ended that with a slap to Havoc's back, doubling him forward. "Congratulations!"
"Ah, no, it's--"
"Not roses, hm," Farman said. "Perhaps lilies, then--calias, because you wouldn't want to send the wrong message--white ones might work, as well--"
"I didn't think the Colonel was dating the First Lieutenant," Fury said to Breda. "Their relationship always seemed so professional--"
Breda slapped him on the back, too. "Ah, that's because you're young, and still innocent," he said grandly. "Really, it's probably just a cover up--"
"--irises might suit her, too, though where you'll find those at this time of year--"
"--I mean, who knows what goes on when she goes to report to him, and closes the door behind her? Nah, I'll bet they've been carrying on for years, now--"
"Sir, I don't think that's very professional to say; she'd kill us if she--"
Under the cover of their chatter, Havoc snuck out.
***
He had a brief moment of panic before he found her house--the Colonel insisted the people of his unit to keep each other's addresses and numbers in case of opportunity--and thought that, perhaps, he should have waited for the others to offer their "escorting" services again.
Havoc paused and tugged at his tie; he had, perhaps, tightened it too much before leaving. As he went up the stairs, the small doggy-door moved, and Black Hayate poked his head out. Rather than bark, he blinked at Havoc, then disappeared back into the house.
A moment later, the door opened, and Riza emerged, elegantly dressed in black. She'd left her hair down, fastened at the base of her neck with a fancier clip than she used at the office. Havoc gaped for a full half-minute before remembering himself and holding out the flowers--lilies, and white, as Farman had suggested. She smiled and descended the stairs from him, taking the flowers and setting them in the crook of her arm.
"We have reservations at the Blue Moon in half an hour," she told him. "Shall we, then?"
He babbled something that was probably agreement, and saw Riza smile at him again. He even remembered to open the door for her, even if Black Hayate took that as an invitation and jumped in first. Havoc was leaning forward, ready to shoo the dog out, when something clicked by his temple.
He looked up, and right into the barrel of a gun. Black Hayate whimpered.
"Bad," Riza said sternly, her tone every echo military command. "Out." She pointed with her other hand, and Black Hayate obeyed, hopping down and sitting with ears and tail lowered. Riza bent swiftly, tucking away the gun as she went, and took the dog's muzzle in her hands.
"I'll be home soon," she said. "Be good."
Black Hayate whined, but when she let go and stood up, he merely watched as she got into the car. As Havoc closed the door behind her, he looked down and found the dog staring at him.
Oddly, he heard the Colonel's words echoing in his head. *"Congratulations. And good luck."*
The date itself went relatively smoothly; the prices on the menu didn't make him wince to see, and Hawkeye had apparently read some of the same books he had, which meant that at least there was something to talk about over the meal.
Afterwards, he drove her back and counted down seconds until disaster. Things were going *too* well, and he was just *waiting* for something to happen--a tire exploding, maybe, or he'd say something that would completely repel her once they got to her house, or--
"You've passed my house," Riza said. He couldn't see her face in the dimness, but it *sounded* like she was smiling, at least. Embarrassed, he coughed and turned the car around.
Black Hayate didn't poke his head out when Riza got out of the car, but she didn't seem particularly worried by this, and Havoc belatedly thought that he probably should have opened that door for her, too. He got out of the car, and they looked at each other across the hood for long seconds.
"Was that, um." Havoc resisted the urge to pull on his collar yet again; he'd stopped after catching her disapproving look around the third time during dinner. "Did you have fun?"
Riza came around the car to stand before him. She was no more an alchemist than he was, but he felt like some small dissected specimen under a microscope, trapped in place. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at her left ear, rather than in her eyes.
She leaned up and kissed his cheek. He blinked at her, then *blinked* at her, eyes going wide and his jaw dropping to hang slackly.
"I enjoyed myself very much," she said. "I'll expect you on Sunday, at seven."
She'd already disappeared inside before her words registered. Like a man completely of automail, he turned to gape at the door. On his cheek, her kiss seemed to burn.
"Ha," he said weakly, to himself and the night sky, "ahahaha." Very gingerly, he touched his cheek, and thought, all over again, about how pretty she'd looked in that dress.
Three dates until he could bring roses. He'd have to ask around, and see where he could find irises at this time of year.
--end--
Now excuse me, I'm gonna go play in the rain♥♥♥♥♥
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I liked the imagery in the first one very much, too.
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Water - I know I've rambled at you in AIM already, but, OH, I like this. I love the water-sand imagry, the guilt that she doesn't really let *bother* her in day to day life, the way she fits with Riza's statement that s/he's useless when it rains. I love the understanding that children aren't how adults often think they are, I love that she notices the crush, and lets him see she's noticed it, and passes no judgments whatsoever, neither discouraging nor encouraging it. (Poor Ed! Only his own instincts to trust!) I love the symbolism of even the hysterically funny moment when Ed bops himself in the head - because her headache is gone after. And just... THANK you. [HUGS]
The First Date - HEH! So, Chira asked you to do this one too? XD (The one I've started is, er, short and comedic and hopefully won't seem to be copying too much. XD; ) I LOVE how you did this, how Riza is always calm and in control and planning things, I LOVE the way the military crew keeps their little yadda yadda yadda up in the background the other time. Your Riza's perfect, your Havoc's perfect, and HEE, I love the little Roy scene (Reminds me of his face when he first enters and looks at the dog in 13 XD). Just. PERFECT. And sweet in its own, subdued, Riza-ish way. LOVE it. <3
Thank you again, Kittylove.
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The whole rain and Seattle issue is a big, confused subject. It's wet here a lot, but it's not steady and long. You gotta go elsewhere for that.
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