Negotiation
by Granate, 2008 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Havoc whistled to himself as he cracked the eggs and mixed them into the waffle batter. He was always in a good mood on the mornings he didn't wake up to a blaring alarm. The best alarm clock in the world was currently using his shower, so he had nothing better to do than make her breakfast. Any morning that started with a kiss instead of the loud clang of an alarm was a good way to get the day started. He'd finally managed to convince Hawkeye that staying the night wasn't a bad idea and he'd been congratulating himself ever since. She got up before he did, so there was no danger of oversleeping, and she left earlier than he did, so if he got up at the same time as her he could take his time in the morning. All of this beat hitting the snooze button five times and being late for work. She didn't come over as often as he wished she would, but hell, he'd like to have her every night, so even three or four times a week didn't seem like enough. He made sure to play it cool, though, because sometimes he got the feeling she was testing him, intentionally or not. How many days could she tell him she was busy before he started getting demanding? He figured her dedication to her job - and a certain infamous Colonel - had gotten a lot of complaints in the past, so he let it go. It was sort of like trying to adopt a stray cat: you couldn't chase it around, you had to let it come to you, usually when it was looking for food or a place to sleep. So he let her come to him, and when she did he fed her and slept with her, and for one month, it had been working out just fine. At first, he hadn't quite known what to do with her. They couldn't exactly go on regular dates, and they had skipped that whole part of the deal anyway. It hadn't taken him too long to figure out that you didn't really do anything with Hawkeye. She didn't require fancy restaurants or surprise theater tickets. You just let her be Hawkeye and run her own life. You didn't complain when she worked late and pretty much let her come and go as she pleased. It was by far the lowest maintenance relationship he'd ever been in. So, basically, it seemed he was getting MORE by doing LESS. Unless it was happening to him, he wouldn't have believed it was possible. It made him wonder why he'd never tried dating a woman like Hawkeye before, but he was pretty sure there were no other women like Hawkeye. Anyway, it made him want to take her out and get all dressed up, just to throw her off balance a little. There were a few things they could be seen doing together in public. She had started coming to his rugby games. It didn't look that suspicious because Breda was also on the team, and Fury and Farman usually came to drink beer and shout at things, so with the addition of Hawkeye, it simply looked like their five-man group was supporting one another. Contrary to her image, Hawkeye could also get pretty into drinking beer and shouting at things. The Colonel preferred hard liquor and lighting things on fire, so he said he'd attend only if Havoc and Breda's team made it to the championship. Another activity they did together was shoot at the target range. They did it at least once a week and their competitions were becoming legendary. This pleased Mustang greatly because it made him look good to have two such talented subordinates. What no one else knew was that there was usually a bet riding on the match concerning who chose sex positions, who owed whom oral sex, or who might later be tied to whose bedpost - which made losing not really losing at all. She won most of the time, but it wasn't as if he was embarrassed to be beaten by Riza Hawkeye, one of the best shots in Central.
When Hawkeye got out of the shower, she immediately smelled waffles, something that would have been out of place in her own apartment. She reached for a towel and dried herself off. Staying over at Havoc's place didn't worry her much anymore. The building was huge and so many people lived there, no one would suspect that she didn't live there herself. She left earlier in the morning, which meant they almost never came or went together, so there was really nothing to be suspicious of. She liked coming here; being with him had continued to feel easy and natural. She liked waking up in his bed, even though it was usually with one or more of his limbs on her. It took a little getting used to, but it was better than waking up to the dog licking her toes. She wrapped the towel around herself and padded to the dresser. Black Hayate was lying sentry at the bathroom door and rose to follow her. The little mutt had already cast his vote. He always made his opinions on the men she dated crystal clear, and he had yet to pee in Havoc's shoes or chew them up. Sometimes he wanted to go in the direction of Havoc's place even when they were going home for the night, which she had never seen him do before. Over the month that they'd let Jean Havoc into their lives, he'd been teaching Black Hayate to play Frisbee and do stupid tricks like balance things on his nose. Hawkeye had been teaching the dog to sniff for illegal drugs and dangerous chemicals, and he seemed to take to pointless tricks as well as useful ones. So whether it was Frisbee, food, being allowed to sleep on the couch, or silly tricks, she wasn't sure, but Black Hayate approved. Hawkeye found some clean underwear from her stash in his top drawer and took her uniform from where it was hanging. She dressed quickly in the uniform pants and maroon undershirt, flipped her hair up and secured it with a clip. She also kept a stash of hair clips at his place, since they seemed to go MIA at an alarming rate when he got his hands on them. Once ready, she followed her nose to the kitchen. "I'm beginning to suspect you're trying to fatten me up," she said when she joined him at the stove. He hummed as he kissed her temple. "That wouldn't be so bad," he replied, snaking an arm around her waist and pinching her hip. He turned to her and she stood on her tiptoes so she could kiss him. His hand rubbed up her back as they parted. "No one makes this shirt look better than you do," he said appreciatively. "Uh huh, right, and next you're going to say, 'but it looks better on my bedroom floor,'" she deadpanned. "As if I'd use such a cheesy line!" he growled, wrapping his arm around her waist again and pulling her back against his chest. "It's true though," he said, resting his chin on her head, "about your shirt and my floor. They were made for each other." "Why Lt. Havoc, are you trying to get me into bed?" she asked incredulously. "No, but I'm about to try to get you to go out with me," he said, squeezing both arms around her. "Let me take you out." "Havoc, we can't," she reminded him with a soft laugh of surprise. Where had this come from, all the sudden? He knew as well as she did that dating was not really an option for them. "You could wear an enormous hat," he suggested, only half kidding, "and a skirt and those heels with the ankle strap, and later everyone will ask, 'Havoc, who was your mystery lady with the knock out legs?' but the secret shall go with me to my grave." She smiled, partially because his lips were tickling the back of her neck. She wished they could do that, a date would be nice. She wished she could treat him like a proper boyfriend, be a proper couple. "We really can't," she said again and broke free of his arms. "That a no, then?" he asked glumly. "Yes." "That's a yes?" he perked up. "No, I meant, yes that's a no," she attempted to clarify and then just glared at him. He went back to his waffle iron, trying hard to clamp his lips into a straight line and not grin. He knew he shouldn't play with her, really he did. She spotted an envelope under the door and went over to pick it up. "Letter for you," she said, handing it to him, "got a secret admirer in the building?" "Wouldn't you like to know," he smirked, taking the standard white envelope and turning it face up. "Oh, it's from my dad," he said after reading the return address, "I should have known. I keep telling him 36 was the number of my apartment in East City. The mail guy usually catches it, but a neighbor must have slipped it under the door this time." Hawkeye poured herself some coffee as he opened the envelope and scanned the letter. "Oh shit, he's coming to visit!" Havoc exclaimed, blue eyes widening. "He should be here," he flipped the envelope around again, looking for the post date, "oh shit, he should be here today! Argh, why does he always drop the letter in the mail right as he gets on the train?" "Where is he coming from?" Hawkeye asked and blew on her coffee. She watched with interest as Havoc's demeanor rapidly changed from relaxed to flustered. "South City," Havoc grumbled as he stuffed the letter back in the envelope. He looked around like he didn't know what to do first, get dressed, eat breakfast, or start cleaning the place up. "What does he do in South City?" Hawkeye asked. She was very curious to meet Havoc's father. She'd heard him mention his father before, in passing. From what she understood, his mother had died early on and his father wasn't really suited to taking care of a child alone. When she thought about it, all the signs of a man used to taking care of himself were there. Havoc cleaned up after himself, he took the trash out, he paid bills on time, he didn't overdraw his bank account. It sounded to her like he had raised himself as a kid, with his father not around much. "He owns a carpentry business," Havoc answered, fiddling with the waffle iron. "Is it a family thing?" she asked, using his distractedness to pry information out of him. "Oh, he'd like it to be, I think," he said, "but I don't want to work for my old man. Hasn't worked out so well in the past." "Why's that?" Havoc stopped what he was doing and looked at her thoughtfully. "It's odd," he said. "In some ways, I'm more of an adult than he is, but I'm never going to BE an adult to him, you know?" Hawkeye nodded her head thoughtfully. "How long is he in town?" "He says he's just stopping by Central for a night on his way North to visit a friend." "So what's he like?" "Well, let's see. How to explain," he pondered, wincing just a little. "First, take all the bad things about me, and then multiply by ten." The first lieutenant grinned. "So, when do I get to meet him?" "You? Meet my father?" Havoc considered, looking panicky again. "No no no. You will not be meeting my father." Hawkeye's scarlet eyes went wide and then hard. She set her full mug down on the table with a loud clunk, sending coffee sloshing over the edge. "What?" Havoc asked in confusion as she stood up and went to the door. "Don't bother to explain, I understand," she said as she stomped into her boots. "Hey, what's this now?" he asked. Notice of a surprise visit from his father, and now a bee under Hawkeye's bonnet - so much for a nice morning. She shot him an icy glare as she snatched her gun holster, purse, and jacket from the coat tree. "Come on, what's gotten into you so suddenly?" he fumbled, moving towards the door. What the hell? The last thing he needed right now was a fight with her. Ignoring him, she gave a sharp whistle and Black Hayate appeared at her heels. "Wait, at least stay and eat some of these - " he was cut off by the slamming of the door. "Waffles," he finished in the silence. He gave a frustrated growl and ran a hand through his hair. He turned back to the kitchen. "What am I going to do with all these waffles?" he asked nobody. He'd pick up his father about noon and drop him off here, so maybe his dad could reheat them if he was hungry. "Shit," he swore out loud. His father was coming and the place was a mess. Not to mention he had ladies underwear in his top drawer that he'd rather not have his bored father discover. First order of business, before cleaning up and getting dressed, was raiding the junk drawer for the pack of smokes stashed there. + Hawkeye arrived at the office even earlier than normal. Work would definitely take her mind off of the morning's events, so she went about it right away. They'd been compiling supplies inventories all week, so she searched through the metal filing cabinets for where they'd left off. It annoyed her that she was getting upset about this. What was the big deal, anyway? So Havoc didn't want to introduce her to his father, so what? It wasn't like they were getting married. Oh, God no, not even close. It wasn't even serious. So not meeting his father wasn't a big deal at all. She'd forget about it completely by noon. She stood up and kicked the file cabinet closed. The plants on top shook and one toppled over. She jumped to catch it, but it was caught by a steadier hand. "Feeling angry at Edo-kun today?" Mustang asked as he placed the plant back next to its larger companion, Alphonse-kun. "Or is there someone I need to roast for you?" Hawkeye calmed herself, embarrassed to be caught in such a snit. "I'm fine," she said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Like hell you're fine, using excessive force on my file cabinets. Even your own dog is hiding from you," the Colonel remarked. Hawkeye followed Mustang's gaze and saw Black Hayate peeking out at them from under a chair. The First Lieutenant sighed. "New office furniture is not in the budget this year, lieutenant," Mustang reminded her. "Is it Havoc?" he asked. "Would you like him charred or seared?" "No," Hawkeye said firmly. "No fire. It's nothing, all right? You don't need to be concerned about me." "If you say so," Mustang said, and went to hang up his coat. He had sworn not to meddle, but he couldn't just let Hawkeye go destroying office furniture left and right. He would see what he could bully out of Havoc when the man came in.
When Second Lieutenant Havoc did come in, he was late and he looked hurried, unhappy. Hawkeye made sure to be extremely busy so she did not have to look up. "Sir," he said. "Lt. Havoc," Mustang replied and tapped the first button on his uniform coat. Havoc immediately checked his own and buttoned it up. "May I have a word, Colonel?" Havoc asked. "Of course," Mustang said, sitting back in his chair. "Lt. Hawkeye, take Farman and Breda to Records for last year's petrol usage reports. Fury, go get some staples for ten minutes." Havoc looked around nervously as everyone cleared out. "I've been meaning to talk to you anyway," Mustang mused as he reached into a pocket and procured his gloves. First they were set on the desk and then put on slowly, one at a time. He tugged at the wrists and wiggled his fingers, making a grand show of finding the perfect fit. Havoc tried not to groan out loud. This had to be about Hawkeye. He knew this day would come. The Colonel could singe his eyebrows off, or create a couple of nice burn marks on his uniform, or even set his socks on fire. Mustang's flame alchemy was nearly limitless, as was his enjoyment of using it. "My first lieutenant seemed upset this morning," Mustang said with deceptive calm and folded his hands on the desk. "It was a misunderstanding, sir," Havoc swallowed and pulled at the collar of his coat. Was it getting hotter in here or was he imagining it? "Oh? And how did this misunderstanding occur?" "Actually this has to do with why I needed to talk to you, sir. My father is coming into town and I need a bit of an extended lunch break to go pick him up at the train station." "That would be fine," Mustang nodded. "Now how does this cause a misunderstanding between you and Lt. Hawkeye?" "I sort of told her that she couldn't meet my father," Havoc admitted. "What I meant was he lives to embarrass me and I don't want him giving her a hard time, but she took it completely wrong." Mustang snorted just a little. "Havoc, you really have no sense with women," he shook his head. "You have to assume that they are going to take anything you say exactly the wrong way. You've just insulted her by not being excited and proud to introduce her to your father." "Well, I realize that now," Havoc grumbled. "I'd apologize and explain myself to her if she'd talk to me. Or just listen to me. Or even frickin' LOOK at me." It felt weird to be confiding in his boss, and his girlfriend's ex at that, but Mustang knew her better than he did - better than he may ever know her at this rate. "Ahhh, your first experience with Total Riza Lockdown?" Mustang asked, rueful smile quirking his lips. "Oh great, it has a term?" Havoc all but groaned. "If you make her mad, she'll shut you out," Mustang relayed. "What do I do?" Havoc asked. "Let her cool down or find a way to get through to her." "How do I do that?" "Different every time," Mustang shrugged. "What?" Havoc frowned. "Argh, women are like... they're like this TRAP. They're all you think about and you bend over backwards trying to get one, but when you do, you've got no idea what they're thinking or just what the hell it is they want from you!" Mustang laughed heartily at him this time, which gave no indication as to whether he agreed or not. Probably not, Havoc realized with some embarrassment, it wasn't like Roy Mustang had problems like that. "And Riza is not even the worst there is, not by a long shot. Trust me, she's one of the best," Mustang told him. The Colonel seemed not to have noticed that he had called Hawkeye by her first name, but Havoc caught it instantly. He realized he never called her by her first name. Riza. He wanted to call her that. He should get to call her that. "Look on the bright side," Mustang said, interrupting his thoughts. The Colonel sat back with a smug look. "You managed to make her upset." "How is that the bright side, exactly, sir?" Havoc asked with a sinking feeling. Mustang turned in his chair so that he could lean an elbow on the desk. "You think about that," he smirked. Havoc frowned at him. "As I warned you both before, if you start acting like children, I'm going to treat you like children. I'm putting you on Time Out, lieutenant. Someone needs to go to Intelligence to copy down the details of a recent surveillance, so I'm sending you," the Colonel ordered. "Armstrong will know which report I want. You may come and go as you need to at lunch break. Dismissed." Lt. Havoc saluted and left for Intel immediately. He should probably be insulted that he was the one on Time Out, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Mustang had used Hawkeye's first name, just the sound of it, the familiar ease the other man had with it. Could he have that? "Riza," he said in the empty stairwell, just to practice. It felt strange, she had always been Hawkeye to him. It was the same for her, he'd always been Havoc to her. He couldn't think of a time when she'd used his first name. Maybe that wasn't likely to change, he thought glumly. How close were they, really, he wondered. What did he really know about Riza Hawkeye? He knew her preferred brand of ammo. He knew she was a real blonde. She liked dogs. She had a younger sister. She preferred pie to cake, white wine to red wine, liked her coffee black and her beer dark. She slept on her side most of the time. She liked to do the crossword puzzles in his evening paper. She had bad habits, too, like wearing her boots in the apartment and her occasional smoking. She really did have pathetic naming sense and was miserable at delivering jokes, which in itself was usually pretty funny. She was just too straight-faced. She had this bizarre calm in every situation. Lt. Hawkeye was famously unflappable. And he had gone and upset her. He had shaken that unshakable calm. Wait a minute, was this the bright side Mustang had been talking about? She'd gotten upset that he wouldn't introduce her to his father. It meant she cared. She wanted to be important to him, important enough to warrant an introduction. She hadn't just shrugged it off, she had gotten upset over it! Havoc was glad there was no one around to see the goofy look on his face right then. + Fury was busily filling staplers when Hawkeye led the others back in after the trip to Records. Havoc was no where to be seen the rest of the day, which was a relief. Mustang didn't say a thing about it and she didn't ask, because asking would have looked like she cared. And she didn't. Really, she didn't. Later in the afternoon, she delivered the Colonel (all but kicking and screaming) to a research committee planning meeting and then returned to the office to finish up the day. They were wrapping up when Havoc entered with a visitor. The man had to be Havoc's father, there was no mistaking that. He was shorter, but their faces were strikingly similar. The older man's hair was darker than Havoc's dirty blond and graying at the temples in a way that added to his looks more than detracted from them. They had the same color blue eyes, but there was something to the older man's eyes that Havoc lacked, a sharpness or a shrewdness that told Hawkeye he liked to be top dog. The Havoc she knew was a relaxed, dependable kind of guy. When he was in charge of a group, he tended to put the men at ease because he was fair and approachable. It looked like that wasn't a trait he'd picked up on the paternal side. "Everyone, this is my dad. He's visiting today and I thought I'd bring him in to meet everybody. Is the Colonel around?" Havoc said as he shut the office door behind them. "He's in a meeting, he should be back shortly," Fury spoke up. "Jim Havoc," the older man said to Fury. He stuck out his hand and broke into a smile that was disarmingly genuine and, Hawkeye had to admit, very handsome. "Sergeant Kain Fury," Lt. Havoc said up by way of introduction. He turned to the others and introduced them in turn as his father shook their hands, "Warrant Officer Vato Farman, Second Lieutenant Hymens Breda." Hawkeye was already on the move. She went straight up to him before Havoc could introduce her and held out her hand, saying, "Riza Hawkeye, first lieutenant." Mr. Havoc gave her hand a hearty shake. "Oh, a first lieutenant! Good to meet you, sir! Maybe you could teach my boy here a few things about how to get promoted." Sir? Hawkeye opened her mouth to say something, but the man turned back to his son. "We can wait until this Colonel Mustang fella gets back," he said easily, "no sense in coming down here just to leave before meeting him." He sat down at the work table and his son leaned on the backs of one of the chairs. Hawkeye was coming around the table to speak to him, but never made it. "So, son, your neighbor says you got a girlfriend," Mr. Havoc said conversationally. "Wh-what?" Havoc stammered, glancing between his father and the stunned look on Hawkeye's face. The other three tried their best to suddenly be busy. "Your neighbor!" Mr. Havoc continued, unaware. "We were talking this afternoon. Says there's been a girl at your place. Seen her on the balcony. Blonde, little skinny, but a real hot piece of ass." Suddenly, Hawkeye choked and started coughing so hard she had to leave the room. Mr. Havoc looked after her and then turned back. "Do you think he heard me?" the older man grinned. "Dad, first of all, that is not a 'he', that is First Lt. Riza Hawkeye," Havoc ground out. "And second of all, I'm sure EVERYBODY heard you. You're only talking loud enough for the entire floor to hear about my private life, thank you very much!" "So tell me about this girl, son," the man persisted. "Later, dad," Havoc hissed, glancing around at the other men still left in the room. He was going to get enough shit about this as it was. His frown deepened when something occurred to him. "Wait, who told you about her?" he asked. "Huh? Oh, Yancy, your neighbor on the right." Havoc clenched his jaw. "That louse called her a hot piece of ass?" he asked tightly. "Sure did! She must be a looker!" his father exclaimed, slapping him on the back. "I'm going to kill him," Havoc muttered, "I'm going to fucking KILL HIM..." "So tell me, she a looker, son? She got a nice rack on her?" Sgt. Fury dropped a file and hastily gathered it up before disappearing from the room. Havoc blinked in disbelief. His father couldn't really be talking like this in his place of work, could he? Surely he was imagining this. "Uh, dad...?" Farman tripped over a chair and didn't bother to push it back in on his way out of the room. "Dad!" Havoc burst out. "You got her pregnant yet?" "DAD!!" Havoc nearly shouted. "That's it, we're leaving!" "But I haven't met this Mustang yet." "Leaving! NOW!" Breda made a few stifled snorting noises trying to hold in the laughter as he left the room. As soon as the office door was shut he nearly doubled over laughing. He sauntered down the hall to the break room, laughing all the way. There he found Hawkeye sitting on the couch, cradling her head on her knees. Fury was fanning her with the file he was carrying and Farman was patting her back comfortingly. "It's not funny!" she groused without looking up when she heard Breda enter. "Oh, it's hysterical," Breda disagreed. "He just asked if Havoc had you pregnant yet!" he snickered. "Eh, these things happen," Breda shrugged, sitting down next to her and folding his hands over his stomach. "Oh, uh, you're not pregnant, are you?" "NO!" she shouted and whacked him on the knee, aim startlingly accurate for not looking. "Ok, ok," Breda chuckled. "And he thinks I'm a man!" she moaned, finally sitting up. A few wisps of her blonde hair had pulled free of her clip and fell around her face. "Well that's easy enough to fix," Breda said encouragingly. Hawkeye looked at him questioningly and he just grinned back in a manner she found highly suspicious and just a little unnerving. "Well, if he's anything like his son..." Farman added and the three men looked at each other. + Hawkeye fastened her earrings and looked at herself in the mirror, trying not to cringe at her reflection. She was not the kind of woman who dressed up to get a man's attention. That wasn't the kind of attention she wanted from men. This felt so foreign to her. She uncomfortably tugged her jacket down and straightened the skirt she'd shortened last night. This went beyond breaking regulations, it was downright humiliating. Using her body to impress a man - and not even the man she was seeing, his father! Why had she let those three stooges talk her into this? Jewelry, short skirt, hair falling loose down her back, maroon tank top under the jacket instead of the turtle neck undershirt, and lip gloss to top it all off. She took a deep breath, swallowed her pride, and stepped into her heels. To her chagrin, the changes had the desired effect. She tried to limit how much the heels made her hips sway, but heads turned as she walked past. It was no different at headquarters. She hurried through the halls to the sanctuary of Col. Mustang's suite. Farman and Fury both stood up when she entered, Farman with a jerky salute and Fury with gleeful applause. "Why hello, miss, I don't believe we've met," Breda leered, sidling up to her as she hung up her purse. "Another word out of any of you, and I'll give you a split lip that will make it awfully hard to say anything at all," she warned flatly. "No, wait, I do know you," Breda said, turning on his heel and going back to the table. "It really worked, you look amazing," Fury told her, feeling brave because he had the table between them and he was pretty sure she wasn't going to shoot him in the office because Mustang had reprimand her after the time with Black Hayate. She could always drag him outside and shoot him, but he was a fast runner and she was in heels. She gave him a withering look that he optimistically thought may have had a hint of gratitude in it. "You're going to wow him. Er, both of them," Farman chimed in awkwardly. "Here, let me adjust one thing," Breda said and carefully approached her again. When she didn't go for her gun holster or wind up to punch him, he reached for her collar. She stayed stock still and let him tug her jacket collar open a bit wider, exposing more of her chest and collarbones. "If this were any other day, I would deck you," she said through clenched teeth. "I know," Breda said cheerfully, "that's what makes it so fun." Her hand twitched and moved for the gun at her hip, and the three men scattered. Havoc swung through the door just then and kicked it shut behind him. He got one look at Hawkeye and dropped the pack of cigarettes he was holding. He stooped to get them and the cigarette fell out of his mouth when he happened to glance at her heels. She rolled her eyes impatiently, took him by the elbow and hauled him out into the hallway. She looked up and down the hall, heard footsteps coming around the corner and finally just shoved him into a closet. "What are we doing in the broom closet?" he asked in confusion as she pulled the string to turn on the bare bulb over head. She leaned up to kiss him, but he set his palms squarely on her shoulders and pushed her away. "You're trying to get me in trouble," he said with dismay. "I'm…" she said, and swallowed. "I'm trying to apologize." "Apologize? Wait, I was going to apologize," he said. "No," she ordered, putting a hand over his mouth. "Let me. I jumped to conclusions, I should have known better. After yesterday, I realize why you didn't want to introduce me to your father." One of his hands came to rest naturally on her hip and the other took her hand from his mouth and brought it to his chest. "Do you see now? It's not you I'm embarrassed of," he said ruefully. "I said it wrong, though, I wasn't thinking." "I didn't give you a chance to ex-" He kissed her to stop her. She didn't need to say anything else. He didn't know if he pulled her closer or if she just automatically brought her body flush with his, but it was giving him all kinds of ideas about skirts and broom closets that didn't belong at work. He pushed her away again. "You really are gonna get me in trouble," he said, gritting his teeth. "Why are you wearing that?" "Well," she said as enticingly as she could, "I was thinking that since your father didn't get to meet the Colonel yesterday, maybe the four of us could have lunch today." "You dressed up to impress my father?" he blinked. Hawkeye made a flat look so that she would not visibly cringe. "He thought I was a man yesterday," she reminded him. His fingertips stroked up her neck and came to rest on her jaw. "You look fine in your normal clothes. You don't need to get dressed up like this to prove anything," he said firmly and kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he unthinkingly backed her up against a shelf. Neither of them noticed when a dustpan clattered to the floor. His hand slid up her thigh and moved over her butt. Even in heels, she was not as tall as he was, but her legs were long and the extra height brought their hips closer to equal. He groaned into her mouth and finally managed to tear himself away. He turned around so he couldn't look at her and cleared his throat a few times. "So, you were saying something about lunch?" he asked, running a hand through his hair and then crossing his arms to occupy them. Hawkeye was straightening her skirt. "Yes, I was thinking it would be nice if you, your father, the Colonel, and I could have lunch together today," she said again. "He could meet Mustang and I could properly introduce myself." "Think the Colonel will go for it?" he asked, suddenly wondering if drinking some of the cleaning products in this closet would make him sick enough to not notice how sexy Hawkeye was. "I think I can persuade him, can you bring your father?" "I don't think he'll object," Havoc said with a shrug. He turned around with a slight grin, adding, "He loves blondes." He looked at her and, yes, she was still damned sexy. Maybe he could mix some of those cleaning products for extra effect. "Did he really ask if I was pregnant?" she asked, wanting to hide her face in her hands again. Havoc groaned. "You gotta understand my dad," he said, "to him that means, like, did you propose to her yet? I seriously think that's how he got my mom to marry him."' Hawkeye laughed weakly and shook her head. "Besides," Havoc said, slowly coming closer and fingering the hem of her jacket, "would that be such a bad thing?" Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Yes, that would be a bad thing," she answered incredulously. Something in his disappointed expression made her add, "Right now." He continued to play with the hem on her jacket, seemingly lost in thought. She was pretty sure she didn't want to know what those thoughts were about. She moved to the door of the closet before his fingers could move to the buttons on her jacket. "So you'll bring your father and I'll convince Mustang," she said, grabbing some cleaning supplies so she wouldn't look so suspicious coming out of the broom closet. "Deal," he agreed, grabbing a dust cloth and turning off the light. The Colonel was at his desk reviewing some paperwork when they returned, and he watched their entrance with mild interest. Office cleaning had not been on the schedule for today, but at least it appeared they had made up. It took only a glance at his first lieutenant to deduce why Central had seemed to be in chaos this morning. What was she doing, wearing something like that? Where those earrings? And… lip gloss? "The four of you find something to do for ten minutes, I need Hawkeye alone," he ordered. Hawkeye heard a pencil snap and Breda snicker and then the men finally shuffled out. "I do wish you wouldn't dismiss them like that, sir," she sighed when they were alone. "With all due respect, sir, how can you be sure?" she challenged him. "I haven't seen you with a measuring tape yet." There was a certain tone they used with each other when they were feeling playful. It had only come about after they broke up and its advent was the thing that assured her they could still work together. "Lt. Hawkeye," he said, giving her dubious look. "I happen to be an expert on skirts," he reminded her, tongue in cheek. She laughed despite herself and his smirk became a genuine smile for just a moment before he straightened his face and pointed a pencil at her. "After today, you are officially not allowed to wear skirts, lieutenant," he said. "It's bad enough you disrupted my office last time, now you've got the entire floor squirming." "Gladly, sir," she replied. "Now, out of curiosity, is there a reason for this get-up, or were you just feeling sadistic?" Mustang asked with a sly, commiserating look, as if he could appreciate a person's sadistic impulses. "No reason, sir, it's a complete coincidence that I'm going out to lunch with Havoc and his father today," she reported. Mustang snorted in an ungracious manner. "Why, lieutenant, I never thought I would see the day. An act of desperation! Oh, how the mighty have fallen!" he declared dramatically. "Are you finished?" she asked blandly. "Oh, come on, you can't expect me not to relish this!" "Can you hurry it up, then? I'm trying to get to the part where I invite you along to lunch," she said. "Me?" "Yes." "Well, I'll have to check my - " "Your schedule is clear, sir." Mustang narrowed his eyes. He should have known he couldn't pull that one on her, she knew his schedule better than he did. Hell, she'd probably cleared it. "Mr. Havoc is leaving tonight and really wanted to meet you while he was in town. It's only an hour, Roy, and well, I thought it would be nice to have four. Please?" she asked earnestly. The Colonel shifted imperceptibly in his seat. His first name and a 'please.' She was really busting out the heavy artillery, here. Must be important. Or maybe she'd picked up a thing or two about manipulating people. "What is this Mr. Havoc like?" he asked. Hawkeye smirked. "Take all the bad things about Havoc and multiply by ten," she told him. Mustang raised his eyebrows. "This I must see. Count me in," he said. "Thanks," she said with a gentle smile. The Colonel just grunted as he opened a desk drawer. He pulled out his week-by-week calendar and thumbed through it, rubbing his chin ponderously. "By the way, are you pregnant yet?" he asked, stopping on a page. Hawkeye's jaw just about hit the floor. What was wrong with everyone lately? If this disturbing obsession with her uterus didn't stop, she was going to start shooting. She really needed more girlfriends. Mustang looked up at her, fully expecting an answer. She slapped the stack of papers down on the corner of his desk with a loud smack and glared at him. "I am not getting pregnant!" she hissed. He put his hands up in surrender, obviously trying very hard not to chuckle. "All right," he conceded, "sensitive subject." She huffed and picked up her papers again. She gave him one more glare for good measure before taking the papers to the filing cabinet. "How about this," he offered, "we'll eat lunch at the Officer's Club, my treat." "Sir?" she asked, surprised. The Officer's Club was quite fancy and usually used when officers were entertaining important guests or having meetings among themselves. She'd only been in Central's Officer's Club once in her entire career. "They should have walleye this time of year," Mustang mused. He called and made lunch reservations, and eventually the rest of his gang filed back into the office. However, by 9:30 all four of them needed a Time Out, and Hawkeye generously volunteered for the next errand to Records. + Hawkeye took a long drag on the cigarette and released it slowly, watching the smoke rise and disappear into the steam that filled the room. There was a gentle splash as she settled back against Havoc's chest. He held onto her wrist as he leaned forward a bit to puff on the cigarette she held. She closed her eyes and hummed as his chest slowly rose and fell. At the moment, she was convinced that there was no place more comfortable in the entire world. His fingers closed over hers, stealing the cigarette, so she let her arm fall over the edge of the bathtub. The arm draped around her waist tightened a little. "Did I wear you out?" Havoc asked with a low chuckle. She hummed again. "Just resting up. I hope you are, too," she hinted. He chuckled again, chest rumbling. She was referring to the fact that it was only seven pm. It wasn't even dark out yet. Hawkeye habitually stayed late at the office, but Mustang had excused her not a moment after five o'clock. He had been annoyed all day because he kept getting unexpected visitors - forms personally delivered that could easily have been left in his mailbox, people dropping by with questions or small talk, the kind of things the telephone had been invented for. Hawkeye didn't like to think it was because of the way she was dressed, but the Colonel had been all too ready to get rid of her as soon as possible. Maybe she'd wear combat fatigues and her hair up under a hat tomorrow to make up for it. She had a reputation to uphold, after all. As they had agreed, Havoc came over to her place as soon as he saw his father off at the train station. She surprised him by waiting for him in the same clothes she'd worn that day, and they'd finished what both of them had wanted to start in the broom closet earlier - only in a place with a lot more space. Now they were relaxing in her bathtub and watching the evening light disappear. "I'm glad we went out to lunch," she said. "Yeah, me too. Thanks for dragging the Colonel into it." "It was no trouble," she shrugged. "Though, I think he was somewhat disappointed. He was expecting all the bad things about Havoc times ten." "Well, you're the one to blame for that," Havoc replied. "I've never seen my dad so well behaved. No lewd jokes, no outrageous come-ons, only a few mild innuendos. He didn't say anything to try to embarrass me or make you blush. You sure made some impression." "He was very much a gentleman," she agreed, "nothing like when he was in the office yesterday." "Oh, he can be charming when he wants to, but I've never seen him try so hard to impress a lady," he commented. "Well, it turned out to be a very pleasant lunch," she said. "Not gonna lose you to him, am I?" Havoc joked before bringing the cigarette to his lips. "Not a chance," she said. "Besides, I lose interest if a man can be whipped so easily." Havoc laughed and shook his head. "I'll remember that," he said, squeezing her waist. "See that you do," she said with a smirk and snatched the cigarette back. She finished it and put it out in the water before flicking it in the direction of the wastebasket. She didn't pay any attention to where it landed because Havoc was kissing her neck and shoulder. Her eyes closed on their own as one of his hands slid up to cup her breast and the other came to rest teasingly on her inner thigh. She released a shaky breath as he nipped and kissed the shell of her ear. "Let me take you out," he breathed. Her eyes opened again. "Out of the tub? Want to move to the bed?" she asked, even though she knew exactly what he was talking about. Her weak attempt at evasion wasn't nearly enough to distract him. "Happy right here, thanks," he all but growled as he pulled her tighter against his chest and moved his hand between her thighs. She gasped and arched in his arms. "But I want to take you somewhere. Let's go away for a weekend." His fingers stroked her suggestively but didn't enter. Since the very first time he had touched her, his hands had always done something inexplicable and devastating to her good senses. He must have figured that out by now. "Nnn, cheater," she moaned brokenly as she clutched at his arms. "Come on," he begged, kissing her neck again. "We'll stay at a little guesthouse south of the city. We can even play it all clandestine, take different trains and arrive separately. What do you say?" It sounded damned nice is what she wanted to say, but she still wasn't sure and his hands weren't helping her make any clear-headed decisions. "W-what about the dog?" she asked, stalling. "I'm sure Fury would dog-sit," he replied easily, not letting up on her one bit. "Come on, we'll get some real time together, get outta Central for a bit. I'll take care of everything." Her mouth wouldn't work and she could only shudder as he stroked her again and nuzzled her ear. "Riza, please," he whispered. "Oh yes," she moaned. He lifted one hand to turn her chin so he could kiss her on the mouth. She twisted around and kissed back hungrily. The water sloshed against the side of the tub as she moved to press herself up against him. "You're not going to regret this!" he promised as they kissed. She immediately backed up, giving him a blank look. "Me and you going away together, I promise you won't regret it," he said with a breathless smile. "When did I say yes to… Oh, god, I need another cigarette." He chuckled and caught her before she dove for the pack of cigarettes on the toilet lid. He relaxed back and happily arranged her against his chest again. She turned onto her side and nuzzled her cheek against him with the cutest, sulkiest look he'd ever seen on her. "When did you get so good at manipulating me?" she grumbled. "Manipulating you?" he laughed. "With the hands and the kissing and the - ugh!" she gave up disgustedly. What was happening to her? She was definitely wearing the combat fatigues tomorrow - and maybe for the next week. This was absurd. "Hey, didn't I promise you wouldn't regret it?" he asked, squeezing her shoulders. She just gave a defeated sigh and burrowed into him. She already didn't regret it. She very much wanted to go with him. "You should… call me that more often," she said, adding a tentative, "Jean." He swept her wet hair out of her face and kissed the top of her head. "Then I will," he said. She completely relaxed in his arms and he wondered if she could feel how fast his heart as beating. He felt like it was going to jump right out of his chest. Not only had he gotten her to agree to go away for a weekend, but she'd called him Jean. He hadn't meant to manipulate her, but hell, if that worked, maybe he wouldn't have to get her pregnant to marry her after all.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ View illustration for this fic!
Note: About the plants, Edo-kun and Alphonse-kun. I couldn't find a place to squeeze this in, but the two plants were nearly dead in the office when the crew got assigned to the office back in Central. The staff (ok, mostly Fury) nursed the plants back to health and they jokingly named them after the frequently-absent Elric brothers because one was big and the other much smaller. ^_^ |
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