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The night began like any other for Colonel Roy Mustang as he changed out of military blue into something more classy, more fitting of the image he tried to project. He was meticulous as he adjusted his silk tie and donned his heavy woolen overcoat. Early spring in Central was still chilly, especially at night. He took his time making his preparations, checking and double checking himself, ensuring that his alchemical gloves were safely tucked away, and easy to reach in case of emergency. It paid well to be careful in times like these.
He didn’t feel any need to rush, after all, his partner for the night was far more meticulous than even he was. She would be ready for him, no matter when he showed up. He walked the streets as though he owned them, confidence in every stride as he approached the rendezvous, a little back alley bar that he’d once called home. He swept in, taking note of the nightly patrons already starting to seat themselves and get comfortable. He knew every detail of the space intimately, from the curve of the bar to the creak of the dance floor, clinking bottles and glasses a counterpoint to quiet conversations, starting a song for the piano to finish later.
Ever eager, it didn’t take long for several bright eyed young women to surround him, drawn by his charm, his lady-killer mask.
“Rooooy~! You’re back~!”
“Now, now, Madeline, I’ve told you about using my name here…”
“Ooh! Are we going out again?”
“Ah, I am afraid not dear. I have other business tonight.”
She pouted, and threw herself onto him, clutching his neck.
“But it’s been so long!”
“Perhaps next time. I’m looking for a girl.”
“There are plenty of girls here~” She giggled, “Maybe you should reconsider that date?”
“A specific girl. Someone new to the place.”
“Ohhh, so little Miss Serious is your mark?” she glanced at the bar, where Riza was seated, sipping at a fruity looking cocktail. Roy couldn’t keep his grin off of heis face.
She was stunning, her hair unbound and slightly wavy, framing her face, her pastel skirt and blouse showing off the softer side she so often tried to hide. That she so often was forced to hide.
She looked nervous, and still hadn’t seen him. With a chuckle, he pressed a chaste kiss to Madeline’s forehead. “Thanks Maddy. I promise I’ll take you out soon.”
Reluctantly, she let him go. Roy Mustang had always been a man of his word, and no one knew that better than the women he called his sisters.
Tonight might be his only chance to relax amid the chaos of the political game he found himself playing, caught up in paperwork and the bureaucracy of moving from the boondocks of the East to Central Command, an unofficial promotion. A closer watch from the brass. He sidled up to the bar, an took a seat next to her, the start of a different game.
“Well well, what’s a pretty young thing like you doing in a place like this?”
He was still smiling that oh-so-charming lady-killer smile, the one he used to melt the hearts of fawning women. This was pure indulgence, meeting like this, anonymous strangers looking for nothing more than a night on the town.
She smiled back sweetly, eyes wide, he knew, taking note of every little detail of him, trapping it in her memory. Here, his rank and reputation meant nothing, there was no colonel to bow to. He was just a man, playing at something just as thrilling and dangerous as the politics he’d dedicated himself to.
This was just another bar, and another girl.
This was just another normal night.
“I’m just trying to relax.” her tone was casual, light.
“Surely this isn’t the first place you’d choose?”
“I’m waiting for someone. He said he’d meet me here.”
He found himself chuckling again. The bar had been his idea. If anyone could keep them off the radar, it was his aunt. “Well, is he here yet?”
“No.” She spoke dryly, dismissively. “And I’m starting to doubt he’ll show. Perhaps I scared him off?”
His lips quirked into a sly smile, and he turned to the bartender. “Scotch for me, and another of what the lady was drinking.”
The bartender nodded, and soon he had his drink in hand, still laughing as Riza rolled her eyes. He’d always been a man of action, and he saw no reason for that to change off duty. After all, this was almost like a battle in itself, and here, he didn’t have to hide his ambitions, his goals, didn’t have to couch his actions in pretty words, and smother them with bureaucracy.
“You’re awfully confident, aren’tyou?”
She took a drink, raising her eyebrow, daring him to make a move.
“What can I say? I have a certain way with women.”
She scoffed, but didn’t rebuff him. It was easy to enjoy their drinks and chat idly as more patrons filed in, all taking up roles in the scene. He would lead, only for her to follow, taking his bait with relish. They only had tonight. And he’d never been good at playing coy, anyways.
“Ah, I feel foolish. Here we are, chatting away, and I’ve not even asked your name. I’ll have to beg for forgiveness.”
“Of course.”
“Would you tell me your name?”
He gave her the lead, next move hers and hers alone. With her response, he’d know all he needed to know. He held his breath as the words settled. What was she willing to give him?
“Elizabeth.”
She said it with a smile, and his eyes sparkled, the significance all too apparent to him. Her codename, the flirty persona, the woman he made illicit calls to when his nannying lieutenant was away.
She wanted him.
She was rightfully cautious, in this city that seemed to have its own eyes, but she felt the pull, felt the heat of the flame that had burned him for so long.
He took her hand, and met her eyes, then kissed it, chastely, a knight pledging loyalty to his lord.
“It’s lovely to meet you Elizabeth.”
“And do I get to know your name?” now it was her voice that lilted teasingly as she slipped deeper into her persona. Her eyes blazed, inviting him to follow her.
“Just call me… James.”
His father’s name, the codename they’d called upon in rare situations, when they needed to discuss their nightlife in broad daylight.
He’d follow her through hell if that’s where she chose to go, but now she led him through flirtations as she laughed gaily, adding her own music to the room, drawing him ever deeper into her. It was the easiest thing in the world to let loose, the barriers that had contained them fully dismantled. The alcohol flowed, conversations turning like stones in its tide, all topics coming and going. Not even their work was off limits. He knew it made her tense, saw her tighten, but he was in too deep now. The bar was public, but as far as he was concerned, it was the safest place in the world. So he talked freely, not leaving anyone unscathed, even those he’d usually maintain careful respect for.
“It was just a routine inspection and the fire alarm wouldn’t stop going off. General Armstrong swore up and down that it was some Drachman spy who had infiltrated the fort and was wreaking havoc around the developmental levels.”
“Really? It was probably just a busted fire alarm. It used to happen at Eastern Command all the time.”
Roy snorted. “You know her. Always vigilant.”
He felt vindicated by her chuckle.
“A Drachman spy… I have it on good authority from Major Miles that everything is a Drachman spy up north.”
He nodded sagely and ordered another drink, smiling at his sisters who had now crowded around the bar. They were all making eyes at him, teasing him, pouting when he made it look like he was shooting them down. Yes, he’d have to make a family visit soon, greet Madame properly, start setting up a new network, develop new strategies for passing along the information that she dealt in. He couldn’t afford to go into this new hand blind, and no one else would support him so well. No one but her and…
This wasn’t the time to think of the dead. He let Riza distract him, pull him away from sullen thoughts. She was still laughing with him, but he couldn’t ignore the way she tensed any time he took his eyes off her, her silent fears thunder in his core.
She was jealous, even knowing the situation, what these women meant to him and the work they did, the roles they played in his games. They’d never hold a candle to his Queen, and yet still she worried.
He only realised just how trapped in his head he’d been when her attention drifted, the conversation having lapsed. He followed her gaze to the small jazz band that was tuning up, took note of her interest. This was the perfect time to advance his cause.
“Care to dance Elizabeth?”
Already, the band was playing quietly, a tune Roy knew well from his childhood.
“I’m not much of a dancer James…”
He offered his hand, a more insistent invitation.
“Humour me.”
Still hesitant she took it, and he pulled her onto the dance floor, drinks as easy to forget as they were to consume. Boldly, he pulled her close as he started to sway gently in time to music, leading them both in the simple dance.
He knew how she moved better than he knew himself, her easy grace etched into him by years of fighting side by side. She always held herself with pride, with fluidity, but here it was magical, transformative. He knew he’d have lie if he tried to give a reason for asking her for this. Soon, her head was resting on his breast, and she was entirely at ease, the dance floor no longer a battlefield. She let his flames melt her, a normal young woman with him, the two of them another young couple finding solace in the arms of their amor. He hummed along with the music softly, a concert for her alone. The only time he kept track of was he beat of her heart, mingling with his, the two joining in this simple sinful pleasure.
Just another crime on his litany of charges.
The only crime he’d never be ashamed of committing.
The sky’s mood mirrored the atmosphere, burning from passionate pink orange to subtle blue blacks, taking their confidence as they whispered dulcet secrets beneath its covers. This was their only freedom, throwaway words and plans, a future for just the two of them. There was only one thing left unsaid, the testimony that would seal his sentence.
There would be no chance to confess. Their time was up, street lights flickering on, the night’s cloak of secrecy destroyed.
Riza pulled away from him, grabbing her sweater and politely thanking the bartender. He followed as she left, pulling his own coat tighter around himself, a shield against the cold of the outside.
Still, the jovial warmth of the liquor and the light of the bar weren’t quick to fade. He still had tonight, he could buy more time.
“Let me walk you home?” he pressed his hand to her elbow, ready to escort her through Central’s winding streets, the winding secrets and lies that seemed to build the capitol.
But she pulled away, and shook her head, avoiding his gaze for the first time that night as she spoke. “It’s better if we don’t.”
The oh so easy smile fell away, any lingering warmth smothered in an instant. He had felt her passion, her fiery desire, felt those things she left unsaid.
“There’s no one watching us here. Please… It’s been too long.” Once again, he forced her to catch his eyes, knowing what she’d find in them.
Hers were still soft and sad, pitying.
“I… It’s better for the both of us if we don’t. Your reputation… Your ambitions. It would be foolish to give up now, when you’re getting so close.”
“We came out here just because we knew no one would find us. Are you telling me it didn’t help? Are you still unwilling to stay with me for a night? One night?” He knew he was pleading, knew it was foolish. And yet he didn’t care.
“I… I wish I could stay with you, Sir.”
His face tightened. So this was what she was playing at.
“What if I ordered it, would you stay then?”
She broke eye contact again, looking at the ground. His words hung in the air, heavy and unavoidable. He had crossed a line.
When she looked back up, her face was hard and jaw set, all traces of Elizabeth gone. He met the eyes of a hawk, a soldier, a woman of duty.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir. Please try to get some rest.”
Before he could respond, apologize, make another move, she was walking away.
Checkmate.
He was left alone on the street, with nothing but sparks to warm his broken heart.
Yes, he was a fool to play with fire, but it was a talent he had honed, had sacrificed everything for. She didn’t need him, she never had. But she had chosen him, made him a promise.
He needed her. But he had made a promise too, long ago.
He made himself turn away from her, his long strides carrying him quickly through the city, towards the apartment that held nothing but tomes of records, the past he had learn from in order to create a new future. He had to build it, even if it meant sacrificing his own.
“You always told me how hard this was gonna be Hughes…”
He sighed, and let moonlight guide him home.
The army was built of rigid rules and regulations, but those had never been able to govern his soul. He had been made a sinner and a criminal, guided by their orders. They had played him as a pawn. But that had been before. Now he had her, and a country in need.
Somehow, someday, he’d find a way to win this deadly game.